President Woodrow Wilson proclaimed November 11th an Armistice Day in 1919, a day to be filled with proud reflections of "the heroism of those who died in the country's service ..." during World War I. In the early 1950s, the sentiments of the country were that veterans from all wars should be honored and therefore a campaign was launched to pass a bill to turn Armistice Day into Veterans Day. President Dwight Eisenhower signed the bill into law in May of 1954.
My father and his twin brother are the only veterans I've been familiar with in our family and they both fought during World War II. My father was in the Pacific and my uncle was in Europe.
Neither one spoke very often of his experiences during the war and now they are both gone so there's no ability to query them on their personal experiences and/or their opinions of more recent wars. Having said that, I can say that one of the most painfully precious memories I have of my favorite uncle is of our trip to France in June of 1987.
John was already ill, fighting a battle for his life, but we'd spoken so often of going to France together and when his doctor said he could certainly go, John mustered all of his courage and agreed to the trip. John knew France quite well as he'd traveled there with his family when he was young, in addition to his marching across the country on his way to the Battle of the Bulge, in Belgium, during WWII. France, in fact, was part of his family fabric: his great-grandfather had had a farm in Charnay, near Lyons, where his mother summered as a child, and his parents met in Yvetot during the first World War.
Our objective, however, was Normandy where John had landed on Omaha Beach with the 3rd Armored Division in late June of 1944. Now, on a gray, damp spring day, almost 43 years later to the day, John asked to be left alone - standing on the beach - seeing and feeling I know not what. He lingered despite the damp chill which surely was going through to his bones. He was visibly exhausted when he returned to the car.
The American Cemetery in Normandy overlooks Omaha Beach and when we arrived I pulled out the "portable chair", the kind that looks like a cane but can expand to a "perch". John declined and with determination I've never seen since, he walked into the cemetery to pay his respects to those who'd fallen - perhaps even at his side.
John taught me a great deal about WWII during this trip, though most of it was fact and very little of it was personal. Pointe du Hoc, Sainte-Mère-Église and Caen - I learned something about each of these and their days during the war. However, he did tell me about being on watch one night with a buddy and as the sun began to rise, the buddy asked, "What is that?" "That's Mont-Saint-Michel", John said and with his natural enthusiasm he proceeded to explain everything he knew about this rocky tidal island to his buddy.
As we were talking over supper in our rooms in Avranches one night, John told me that his time in the service - during the war - was when he had felt the most valuable in his life; he felt he'd contributed the most during that time and, in fact, he said he'd wanted to stay on to help rebuild but felt the loving pull of family at home and complied.
Before we left New York, John asked me to promise not to take any photographs of him and of course, I agreed. The trip was taxing for John and tiring for both of us, and our last stop before returning to Paris and then New York was Chartres. John wanted to see the stained-glass windows in the cathedral. We needed to rent a wheelchair to get him there but he saw the cathedral on a gloriously bright sunny day. As he entered the cathedral, John became uncharacteristically quiet - drinking in the beauty and majesty, and praying I'm sure. God forgive me, this is when I broke my promise and took this picture of my beloved uncle basking in the colored light streaming through the stained-glass windows.
This former soldier, this veteran, had returned to his battle fields, grateful for having been able to serve. He died a month after returning to New York, telling the family that the trip had been "wonderful".
Beautifully written Claudia..and after reading the story and then seeing that photo of your Uncle in the wheelchair-whew! very moving photo indeed!
Peter and I had an Uncle John who was in Normandy - unfortunately he was never well after coming back. As we grew up we didn't quite understand why "Uncle Johnny" was such an alcoholic. He never spoke of the war. Such a sad sad story. My Mom (Peter's Aunt) would try to tell us "Uncle John has been through some awful times and was injured in WW2" Speaking as a Viet Vet myself, there just wasn't the support for those brave souls that we have today.
Posted by: Cuzzin Robert | Saturday, November 13, 2010 at 06:05 PM
Thank you one and all for your comments here.
Posted by: Claudia | Saturday, November 13, 2010 at 01:43 PM
Your posts have made me laugh, smile, and warmed my heart - - and now they have made me cry.
The picture alone would have done it, the story was the clincher.
Seriously, the shot of your uncle in the cathedral is nothing short of stunning.
God bless him, and all those who fight for the freedom we all enjoy.
Posted by: Paul Angotta | Saturday, November 13, 2010 at 12:41 PM
I remember your uncle John and your wonderful trip together. That was a great gift from you to him, and your beautiful photo pays tribute to him and the veterans you honored. Thank you for sharing it with us.
Posted by: Debra Cobb | Saturday, November 13, 2010 at 09:20 AM
mom sent me the link.wonderful tribute to your Dad and John! i knew John served in WW II, but I did not know that he was at Omaha Beach! I remember when you two made that trip to europe. I also thought of my Dad on veteren's day(wwII, navy, pacific).
cousin Frannie
Posted by: frannie | Saturday, November 13, 2010 at 12:03 AM
You also made me cry. You out did yourself Claudia!!!!! As another reader put it so well, "I think God forgave you for taking that picture of your uncle". It is the only picture I NEVER rotate out and the one picture EVERY visitor I have picks up and comments on.
Posted by: Sally | Friday, November 12, 2010 at 10:17 PM
This is a thank you to your father and uncle for being Patriots. As I marched up Fifth Avenue in honor of my own patriots yesterday, I was amazed not only by the magnitude of the parade participants but of the viewers. How proud they all seemed to be Americans.
Posted by: Martha Pierce | Friday, November 12, 2010 at 11:57 AM
You made me cry, you little devil. Could hear you reading the piece to me and remembering your telling me about the trip so long ago.
Posted by: Bonnie | Friday, November 12, 2010 at 11:20 AM
Truly wonderful post. I often think of dinners in New York with John. He was an elegant, welcoming, gentle man and that trip meant the world to him...and you.
Posted by: carol | Friday, November 12, 2010 at 10:43 AM
Ward....
I think God forgave you for taking that picture of your uncle. All day long I've been trying to keep myself in check and make sure I'm honoring this day and all it stands for. There are parades, articles, and spots on TV shows to help us remember and honor those who fought for our freedom. I thought this morning when I heard the phrase "Land of the free, BECAUSE of the brave" that the meaning clicked with me. That was until I read your post. Since our dinner in Swampscott the night you and Peter came out to see Junior and me, I've been watching Open Window for a tribute to your uncle. What better day than today. That picture will be with me for a very long time. The memory must be with you for a lifetime. How lucky.
Posted by: Bob Dollard | Thursday, November 11, 2010 at 08:09 PM
I can only imagine the images they have in their memories.
Posted by: Claudia | Thursday, November 11, 2010 at 05:42 PM
Wonderful post. As you probably know I am from Normandy. My parents were young children on d-day, yet they remember the events vividly.
Posted by: Valerie jardin | Thursday, November 11, 2010 at 05:27 PM