Embracing Our Veterans
Venerating the veterans of wars past begins by sundering the arbitrary wall that some suppose sets them apart from others
In May, I was privileged to commemorate the remarkable testimonies of fifteen living World War II veterans in Junction, Texas — a quiet Texas town two hours west of San Antonio of about 2,448. Junction prides itself as the gateway to the Texas Hill Country and, like many small towns, is even prouder of its WWII veterans — its own greatest generation. The opportunity to speak at their veterans’ commemoration came to me by way of my unit’s public affairs office. The town’s first keynote speaker fell through only a few weeks before the ceremony, and they needed help fast. Serving as the voice of a community to honor their WWII veterans is a singular privilege, and I did not hesitate to take it up.
The opportunity to speak at the commemoration had a personal significance to me beyond the purpose of the ceremony itself. For me, it was an overdue prompt to reflect on the substance of veneration. There is a profound divide that often sets apart those of deep lived experiences, and it tempts us to mentally remove those individuals from our midst albeit as heroes. In preparing my remarks for the ceremony, I concluded that our impulse to lionize veterans has led some of us astray. Properly esteeming military service can begin with appreciating the exceptional burdens of war, but it can be made complete only by also recognizing the ordinary in our heroes. We must remember the importance of remembering to be humbled by the familiarity of the veterans who experienced war even as we retain the capacity to be astonished by its superlatives.
War has always been a cruel companion to the best among us. When reflecting on this, I sometimes turn to the words of E.B. Sledge. Many consider Sledge’s With the Old Breed the most important American military memoir of the Pacific War, capturing his experiences in Marine boot camp and the harrowing battles for Peleliu and Okinawa. He concluded his reflections with simple honesty:
“War is brutish, inglorious, and a terrible waste. Combat leaves an indelible mark on those who are forced to endure it. The only redeeming factors were my comrades’ incredible bravery and their devotion to each other. Marine Corps training taught us to kill efficiently and to try to survive. But it also taught us loyalty to each other – and love. That esprit de corps sustained us.”
The military has always been mindful of its heritage. It has celebrated the sacrifices and valor of minutemen at Lexington and Concord, of doughboys in the Meuse-Argonne, sailors at Midway, and of GIs in places too numerous to name – noble last stands as well as honored victories. The armed services have preserved the memory of campaigns as distant as the American Revolution and as recent as the battles for Fallujah and the Korengal Valley. Yet, in its remembrances, to me, it has been the glories and triumphs of WWII that shone brightest in the hearts of Americans and in the minds of today’s military service members of every living generation.
In the greatest test of our modern times, Americans stepped forward in the millions to resist the move of authoritarianism around the world and to liberate oppressed peoples from the war’s horrors, such as the Holocaust in Europe, and, perhaps most importantly, to make safe the idea of liberty.
The lie of the totalitarians was that it was the fate of races to either dominate or to be subjugated. It was brave and determined Americans, such as those from Junction, who took their place alongside America’s allies in rejecting the lies of murderous regimes and redeeming the world’s hopes.
The service of our WWII veterans is easily mythologized and made to seem superhuman. In the age of mass media and celebrity, it feels good to memorialize the combat experience of that war’s generation, to read their accounts, to watch recreations of their exploits, and to bask in the glow of heroes connected to us through bonds of blood, community, and flag, but I would challenge those of subsequent generations to remember them not as gilded figures, but as one of us. Remembering them as one of us does not detract from their life’s accomplishment. On the contrary, it renders their service all the more remarkable and sublime.
We presume so much in our daily lives. Put those presumptions into the context of 1941 to 1945 before V-J Day. Think of nervously planning for college or a trade school in the fall of 1941 – and the sudden shock of the attack at Pearl Harbor that December. Think about turning 18 years old in 1942, never having married or even had the opportunity to find the love of one’s life, and at the same time anticipating service in a war that was consuming the world. It is in the juxtaposition of the ordinary of our lives with the extraordinary circumstances of that war’s vastness that we authentically appreciate what it meant to be there in that time. It is in that place of mind that we can truly understand, in a way that edifies our honored veterans, who they were, who they are, and what their service represents.
These are not a people apart from us. These veterans are us. They are not superheroes with whom we cannot relate. On the contrary, they possess the same aspirations and fears that are natural to all people. So, it is our burden then to measure up to the challenges of today with the same dignity and determination that they lived out.
What fears that I had in the shadow of 9/11 were not unfamiliar to veterans of the Second World War. It is that understanding that has inspired me and many others to serve through this nearly two-decade struggle to render our nation and our allies safe from the scourge of violent extremism and other threats. If ordinary Americans did not shrink from the daunting prospect of war in 1941, how could we not do the same in 2001 or in 2018; how could I?
Sledge signs off his war memoir with a mandate. It is a charge for every generation that has followed his own and for every generation yet to come:
“[I]t will be necessary to accept one’s responsibilities and to be willing to make sacrifices for one’s country – as my comrades did. As the troops used to say, ‘If the country is good enough to live in, it’s good enough to fight for.’ With privilege goes responsibility.”
It is for us then to accept that responsibility which was so nobly and well fulfilled by Junction’s WWII veterans and their comrades. To them: thank you for the proud country that you helped to establish for my generation and those that will follow.
Disclaimer: The views expressed in this essay are mine alone and do not represent those of the US Army, US Department of Defense, or any other agency of the US government.
