Mary Ann
When my father was alive, he would attend a local monthly WWII Veteran’s luncheon, so one year I was home visiting him for the 4th of July, and he asked me to go with him to the picnic. Despite being in his 90s, he could walk so I just think he wanted company because he didn’t need help to get there.
The picnic was at the local firehall, and there were about 50 people attending. For once, I was one of the youngest women there. That doesn’t happen very often anymore. The men were all greeting each other, and I was getting introduced to everyone. Maybe my father was showing me off a bit. Even though they were older gentlemen, they could still flirt with a knowing wink or mischievous smile. I was having a good time.
With each hello, I would ask what their role was during The War – there was only one war, WWII, for this group. They would share that they were on the beaches of Normandy or they freed a concentration camp or fought with the Marines on Iwo Jima. I was talking to living history. The gentleman across from me at the table told me every few minutes about D-Day, and I listened patiently because it was important to him, and it was a memory he still had.
Most of these men didn’t talk about The War when they came home, and the stories remained deep in their souls. They had a lot of lost time to make up for and didn’t need to dwell on the tough times in their lives. However, as they got older, the stories seemed to rise to the surface. At least, it did with my father. His memories, his stories are precious to me now.
Well, after the social “hour,” it was time to eat. We filled our plates with hamburgers, hot dogs, potato salad, and baked beans – typical fare at a picnic. Everyone was seated and grace was given, and birthdays were acknowledged with several of the men reaching milestones in the 100s. With each month’s meeting, fewer men were in attendance – The Greatest Generation was rapidly disappearing.
After the birthday wishes were extended, we all stood for the Pledge of Allegiance. Old men in walkers who could barely stand did their best to rise for the Pledge. They all did and loudly began “I Pledge Allegiance to The United States of America….” I became so overwhelmed with emotion that I began to cry. (Tears still fill my eyes as I write this.) I was free because all these men had sacrificed their youth with their bodies, minds, and souls. At that moment, I understood the meaning of the Pledge and why they fought for liberty and democracy.
In this very divided time in our country’s history, I don’t think those men were thinking along party lines or if they were from a blue or red state as they stormed the beaches of Normandy. They knew their purpose to fight for freedom and against tyranny. I will always be thankful for that day and the treasured gift those men gave me. That may have been my father’s purpose in including me that day. Daddy was always so wise, and there was a lesson to be learned that day.
Silver Sage Sisters 