Fading Heroes
Preserving the Legacy of the Greatest Generation
They used to be everywhere. They were ubiquitous in the community. I would go to my local grocery store and listen to the three men who always sat on the bench and waited as their wives shopped. Pretending to read something on the wall, I would stand and listen, mesmerized, and hear stories of bombing the Romanian oil fields at Ploesti, where you didn’t want to bottom-out in a B-24 Liberator because the bottoms would rip right off if you tried to crash land it. Or hear how it felt to be in the top gunner’s turret of a B-17 Flying Fortress, hearing the crack of bullets off the glass. Commonplace stories back in the 1990s, from men who were anything but. And now those men are becoming less and less common.
According to the National World War II Museum, approximately 492 World War II veterans die every day. That is a staggering thought. With each veteran go their memories and their contributions to the war. They take with them their hopes, dreams, pains, sorrows, joys, and gladness over the years. Each one of them is their own microcosm of World War II. Each one has their own unique story.
Next time you are in a cemetery, stop by a World War II veteran’s grave. Most will have some kind of marker, denoting their service affiliation or even where they served. Some may just have a simple American flag fluttering through the grass, a small reminder of their service. As you look at their grave, think about what they saw, what they experienced, and what they carried with them their whole life. Think about what you would ask them if they were still alive and standing with you today. And think of what they would want to tell you and have preserved for posterity. This is what I do every single time I am in a cemetery, and while it is sometimes overwhelming, it gives me peace to be able to stop and remember each person. It also gives me the drive to go out and capture the stories of those who are still with us.
The best way to capture those stories is through recorded interviews, and quite a few organizations have made that easy: The Library of Congress, the National World War II Museum, and Friends of the National World War II Memorial all have good programs that the public can participate in. It might not be a recorded interview, but at least try to sit and exchange a few words with a WWII veteran, to try to capture what they thought was the most important thing about their service.
When I sit down with a World War II vet, I usually find that they are remarkably similar to today’s generation of veterans. Speaking with many of them, they often want to know about my own service. My usual reply is something along the lines of, “Oh yeah, sure, Afghanistan, it was, okay, you know, but what was that you were telling me about fighting in the mountains on Luzon with no resupply for two weeks?” And their response, “Oh, it was okay, you know, kinda rough.” Kinda rough, indeed.
