When ‘The Greatest Generation’ Disappears
Approximately 550 World War II veterans die everyday, taking with them stories that will never be told again.
By Megan Turchi
Private J.R.Hunter singlehandedly shut down machine gun fire coming from a German bunker on D-Day in what was know as the Hillman Strongpoint.
In the fight, he was wounded and though he was the low ranking of Private, he was awarded the Distinguished Conduct Medal.
There is now a small green plaque left on the bunker in Normandy, France that briefly describes his efforts.
Approximately 550 World War II veterans die everyday, taking with them stories that will never be told again.
In the 1930s, Germany was in shambles, Hitler had risen to power, and America faced economic disarray with the Great Depression.
A little over twenty years after World War I ended, which was the supposed “war to end all wars,” a new conflict was afoot that America was, at first, hesitant to join.
Then, on a peaceful Sunday morning in December 1941, Japan’s naval forces attacked Pearl Harbor — thrusting America into yet another World War that would accumulate over a million U.S. casualties in about four years of fighting.
American volunteerism ran rampant, making WWII one of the most patriotic moments in U.S. history. Propaganda posters motivated the American people to support the war in any way they could and many complied.
WWII was a war where there was a clear enemy and it was a war that many Americans actually wanted to fight. Almost 40 percent of the servicemen were volunteers.
In the first chapter of his book, The Greatest Generation, journalist Tom Brokaw wrote:
In America, young men were enlisting in the military by the hundreds of thousands. Farm kids from the Great Plains who never expected to see the ocean in their lifetimes signed up for the Navy; brothers followed brothers into the Marines; young daredevils who were fascinated by the new frontiers of flight volunteered for pilot training. Single young women poured into Washington to fill the exploding needs for clerical help as the political capital mobilized for war. Other women, their husbands or boyfriends off to basic training, learned to drive trucks or handle welding torches.
But, despite the general support, the war did not come without its costs.
World War II ended many lives before they had the chance to begin.
Many soldiers never returned home and continue to lie in American cemeteries throughout Europe and the Pacific and there are only about 1.2 million veterans left from the 16 million who served during the war, according to the National WWII Museum.
The soldiers who did survive arrived home as primary sources to tell a version of history. Some veterans would stay quiet, while others spoke freely or needed to be asked questions. There were and are millions of stories to be told.
I took a trip with my grandpa, dad and uncle one summer to Normandy, France — the location of one of the most infamous battles of WWII, D-Day. We went to the beaches where brave soldiers left their ships, running directly into enemy territory. We went to the churches that had been used as a first aid stations. We went to the cemeteries where thousands upon thousands of Americans are buried.
What struck me wasn’t the stats, specific battles or military strategy. What stuck in my head was a Frenchwoman who let Americans stay in her home, a paratrooper who became stuck on a church steeple, and an American officer who risked his life for his troops.
Today most of these veterans are in their late 80s — their time is limited. Many will and have already passed before their story was able to be told.
As I stood in an American cemetery with 9,387 American crosses and Stars of David overlooking Omaha Beach in Normandy with nothing but the sounds of tourists’ whispering, the cold Norman breeze in the trees, and the sound of a patriotic song, I thought that this is a way to remember and show respect. But, I would never actually know these men and women’s stories told in their own voices.
Even if the people who witnessed history are no longer on earth to tell it, visiting the sites where battles were fought, people rebelled, lives were lost and change was made can help future generations attempt to understand. Going Normandy cannot replace the firsthand telling of history, hearing a voice tremble as they recall their life during wartime, or listening a strong voice remember their youthful bravery.
The dead tell no tales.
The National WWII Museum does what they can to preserve stories through collecting oral histories and artifacts. The American Folklife Center, In Their Words, the Naval Historical Center, and Witness To War are other groups dedicated to collect audio and video of vets while they are still here.
Listening to an old man or woman on public transportation who wants to chat or listening to the next time your grandparent wants to tell you another “boring” story can help pass down past stories to the future.
The “greatest generation” is not all gone yet.
There are heroes are still here, living among us as living testaments to a war that changed the world, ready to tell their stories to those of us that are smart enough to listen and pass them along.
There are still plenty of stories to be told.
