When I was a youngster, World War Two was at the forefront of the stories told, movies viewed and play acting I did with childhood pals. The significant impact of that conflict’s victory still overwhelms. It is impossible to underestimate how important it has been to individual liberty. In the 1950’s my understanding of Memorial Day centered on the word sacrifice. I understood its meaning for Memorial Day. However, I didn’t have a personal connection to any soldier who did not return home. I had met veterans, been to the American Legion and VFW posts and watched our city’s patriotic parades. I enjoyed being around grownup veterans. At the end of May it felt right to honor the memory of those who made the ultimate sacrifice.
I have a specific memory of watching parades that included veterans. World War One veterans rode in open air automobiles while younger soldiers marched. That made perfect sense to me. The men in the back of those convertibles looked really ancient. I miss those parades. Parades with veterans seem more rare now. I still buy my poppies. Communities/cemetaries have ceremonies and speeches. Picnics are often offered. But, what would it be like to go back to my hometown for one of those old fashioned parades?
That thought is the time when I realized that I am way beyond ancient. In 1954, my young eyes saw WWI veterans who were removed from their war by 35 or 36 years. My own war is now 51 years in the rearview mirror. (But, Papa’s spunky, don’t you think?) Perhaps it’s best that there is no parade around here for us really old veterans. It’d require flatbed trucks with recliners I suspose. Time insists on marching on.
Yet, something other than arthritis has changed for me after all these years. The word sacrifice still comes to mind. However, I regret to say I have a connection to a soldier I knew who did not return home. A fraternity brother. As I remember him I will also be glad that, remarkably, I do not have any other close connections to soldiers lost in our nation’s wars. May Norm rest in peace.