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Quote of the Day: Remembering the Dead
“All gave some. Some gave all.” – Howard William Osterkamp
Osterkamp of Dent, OH, served in the US Army 1951-1953. He fought in Korea as part of C Company, 5th Regimental Combat Team, receiving a Purple Heart. He gave some. Many in his company gave all — their lives.
Osterkamp in Korea.
This is Memorial Day weekend, the weekend we honor our war dead. Every generation has a war they specifically remember on Memorial Day: the one they or their contemporaries fought in. For my grandfather Lardas, it was the First World War, where he too received a Purple Heart and earned US citizenship through combat service in the American Expeditionary Force. For my father and father-in-law, it was World War II, where each served in the Signal Corps, one in Europe and one in the Pacific. For my uncles, it was the Korean War, one in the Army and one in the Air Force.
For me, it was the Vietnam War, although I personally was too young to have served in it. I turned 18 in 1973, the year the draft ended. Yet many of my contemporaries served. Some did not come back. For those born in the 1970s, it was Desert Shield/Desert Storm. For the children of the 1980s and later, it was the War on Terror.
I have been largely untouched by all of those wars. While all male family members of my grandfathers’ and father’s generation served in wars, all of them made it through their war to return safely to the US. One of my wife’s cousins fought in Desert Storm and made it back safely. Some of my school friends served during Vietnam, but none saw combat, and all returned safely. Veterans’ Day touches me more directly than Memorial Day.
I am the only one of my generation — or my children’s generation to have served in the US military. (My service was brief — ROTC followed by discharge upon graduation due to a surplus of newly minted 2nd lieutenants. I went straight into six years of inactive reserve, and do not consider myself a true veteran.) It is not that surprising. The size of the military has shrunk dramatically. While service was part of everyday life for my grandfather’s and father’s generation, even when I was a young adult, it was fading as a rite of passage to adulthood. By the time my children were adults, only a tiny fraction of this country served in the military.
What those under 50 do not appreciate is how shabbily the country treated those who served in Vietnam during the late 1960s and throughout the 1970s. Those who survived were attacked and spat on (it’s not a myth — I saw it happen), reviled, and discriminated against. The dead? Many claimed they deserved it. It was not until Desert Shield the image of the veteran improved (“Thank you for your service”) and the war dead again became the honored dead.
I know members of the military died during Desert Storm/Shield and the War of Terror. (The grave of one of those men, a private who died before his 23rd birthday, is close to my wife’s grave in the cemetery where she now lays). I did not personally know anyone who died in Vietnam. Yet for me personally, Memorial Day is about the Vietnam dead, scorned when they returned. It may be generational. It may be because I still resent how they were treated.
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Published in Group Writing
I love that David Ball song. It chokes me up to hear it sometimes.
This quote brings to mind another country song.
Having lived in Arlington, VA for many years, I don’t associate Memorial Day with a particular war as much as with the rows upon rows of white headstones at Arlington Cemetery. I’m so grateful for each of the heroes who served and sacrificed so that we can live in peace. Considering your associations, I’m also grateful that my grandfather and father were just a little too old for WWII and Vietnam, respectively. And my husband might have gone to Afghanistan or Iraq, as many of his Army buddies did, but God had other plans for him. A horrifying car accident on the way to the base required multiple surgeries and a lot of recovery. We probably owe our marriage and family to that strange twist of fate, but I know there’s part of him that feels like he should have been deployed in 2001. He visits his friend’s grave in Arlington, alone, whenever he can.
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This post is part of the Quote of the Day group writing project at Ricochet. The rest of May is unclaimed, so please signup here to contribute. The signup sheet for June is coming soon.
I have a great uncle who served in WWI and who survived but seems to have suffered from the experience ever after until his death. Not much family discussion of him so his story seems to have been lost. My father was inducted in 1942 but permitted to complete medical school so his service was part of the occupation force in Japan. He remained in reserves and was activated for Korea but never in theater. I have cousins who served in Vietnam and survived. My own service was not until after that conflict had ended. I have some nephews who served in Iraq.
“Giving all” is clear when killed in action; less clear when surviving but affected ever after in ways that substantially limit the potential for their lives. Suffering and death is not a reason to abjure all war. But it is a reason to pursue peace through strength and to make damn sure when you go to war the mission is clear, the conflict has a beginning and end, and the sacrifices of the military men, women, and dependents are honored.
My grandfather served in WWI, although he never spoke about it: Uncles served in the Marines at Guadalcanal and during WWII but never spoke about it. Dad served in WWII and Korea but would only speak if a bit inebriated.
And I, too, remember the shameful treatment the Vietnam Vets took upon their return home.