Listen to the Story
Submitters name: Norm Rust
Age Grouping: All Ages
Date Written: 11/11/05
In 2004, our nation rectified a nearly sixty year-old wrong. Last year, we
apologized and reflected anew, thankful that, at last, things had been made
right. May 8, 2005 commemorated the sixtieth anniversary of the end of World
War II in Europe; August 14 and September 2 did the same for the campaign in
the Pacific. As the calendar again turns and our opportunities to express our
gratitude slip with the sands of time, may we truly listen to their tale of
inspiration and triumph.
Sixteen million Americans served in the varied branches of the armed forces
between 1941 – 1945. Millions more on the home front contributed to the war
effort, uniting together to turn this land, in the words of President Franklin
Delano Roosevelt, into “a great arsenal of democracy.” During the war years,
the United States of America produced 5,777 merchant ships, 1,556 naval vessels,
299,293 aircraft, 634,569 jeeps, 88,410 tanks, 2,383,311 support vehicles,
6,500,000 rifles, 40,000,000,000 bullets and two atomic bombs.
As those two testaments to the destructive power of mankind fell upon
Hiroshima and Nagasaki, this awesome production machine was producing six times
the armaments of Great Britain, more than sixty percent of the total munitions
of the allied powers, and forty percent of all the world’s arms. At war’s end,
the scope of America’s power and possessions was overwhelming; yet, in spite of
this truth, she used her extraordinary might not for conquest, but for
liberation. As British Prime Minister Winston Churchill stated, in 1945, “…the
United States stands, at this moment, at the summit of the world.”
Having noted the vastness of her riches and magnanimity, America’s most
precious contribution to the effort to save the world from tyranny was none of
these. It was the costly sacrifice of 405,399 of her sons upon the altar of
freedom. Additionally, over 500,000 young men returned home physically maimed
with wounds that would be lifelong reminders of the horrors of war. Untold
numbers also carried with them emotional scars that seared deeply – not into the
flesh, but into the tender soul of the soldier. As we, with reverent gaze,
examine such offerings of life and pain, it is altogether proper that we also
listen to the story of what these men did. It must be told, heeded, and written
on our hearts, every word.
What had met the children of this nation’s most challenged generation was,
quite simply, the greatest catastrophe in the history of the world. Over fifty
million men, women, and children perished between 1939 – 1945 – over twenty
million Russians alone. All were victims of the hate and death-filled
ideologies of Nazi Germany and Imperial Japan. What our humble heroes, who
overcame and conquered such evil, have now been honored with is the first
national memorial dedicated to all those who served this nation at its moment of
extreme peril.
This monument stands as a silent witness to our devotion to freedom and a
poignant reminder of the everlasting love, honor, and respect in which its
defenders are held. Sadly, its realization was almost six decades too late.
The living members of the generation which honored us with their service are now
dying, according to the American Battle Monuments Commission, at a rate of over
1,100 per day – there are less than four million still living. Sorrowfully,
many will never walk its hallowed environs, established fittingly within the
presence of the Washington Monument and the Lincoln Memorial. Indeed now,
between that which honors the father who saved the nation at its birth and the
father who saved her unto its new birth of freedom, rises a tribute to the
children who saved her in the mid-life of her greatness.
Many of them will never see or know of this cherished place; but alas, they
already saw and they already knew. They knowingly saw the shadow of danger in
the brightness of their youth and they went, responding to the calling of their
time, fulfilling their duty and their destiny with distinction. They most
assuredly knew something of what Civil War brother-in-arms Oliver Wendell Holmes
Jr. reflected upon when he wrote, “If there is any part of your life where you
should have been and did what you should have done it is in the great Olympiad
of ’61 to ’65. What have you felt or looked upon since that is not pitifully
small in comparison? In our youth, our hearts were touched with fire. It is
for us to bear the report to those who come after us.”
Deep within their being, they would also concur with Shakespeare’s Henry V,
who roused his countrymen to battle thusly, “Whoever does not have the stomach
for this fight, let him depart. Give him money to speed his departure since we
wish not to die in that man’s company. Whoever lives past today and comes home
safely will rouse himself every year on this day, show his neighbor his scars,
and tell embellished stories of all their great feats of battle. These stories
will teach his son and from this day until the end of the world we shall be
remembered. We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; for whoever has shed his
blood with me shall be my brother. And those men afraid to go will think
themselves lesser men as they hear of how we fought and died together.”
Indeed they saw and they knew. Certainly, however, it is even more
important for children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren to come and
ponder, awe-inspired by their courage and accomplishments. They must learn that
these, our heroes, in the words of historian Steven Ambrose, “…did more to help
spread democracy around the world than any other generation in history. They
knew the difference between right and wrong and didn’t want to live in a world
in which wrong prevailed. So, they fought and won and we, all of us, for all
succeeding generations must be forever profoundly grateful.”
Ironically, the memorial serves as a deathless reminder of all those who
gave themselves in death that this nation’s posterity and the posterity of so
many other lands might know the blessings of liberty. Let it be our hope, as it
was Gen. Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain’s for Gettysburg, that it be a place where
“…reverent men and women from afar, and generations which know us not and that
we know not of, heart-drawn to see where and by whom great things were suffered
and done for them shall come to ponder and dream; and lo! The shadow of a mighty
presence shall wrap them in its bosom, and the power of the vision pass into
their souls.”
Gratefully, the vision is passing into the souls of America’s current sons,
clearly exhibited in the words, life, and death of twenty-seven year-old former
National Football League star Sgt. Pat Tillman, A Company, 2nd Battalion, 75th
Army Ranger Regiment, killed in a firefight in Afghanistan by friendly fire and
posthumously awarded the Silver Star for gallantry in action. He once stated,
shortly after September 11, 2001, “I play football and it just seems so
unimportant compared to everything that’s taken place. I feel guilty even
having this interview. My grandfather was at Pearl Harbor and a lot of my
family has gone and fought in wars, and I really haven’t done a thing. I’ve
always thought about Pearl Harbor and the people…and what they were going
through…their screaming and the passion they exuded and how they lost their
lives. I think of stuff like that. I imagine I’ll probably have a few other
things to think about now. Maybe a fireman running up those stairs.”
Upon learning of his story, most of his fellow countrymen would wonder how
Sgt. Tillman could walk away from a 1.2 million dollar annual contract to place
himself, compensated at a small fraction of that amount, in a foreign, hostile
land replete with mortal peril. For Sgt. Tillman, however, the question had
always been, in light of his forefathers and fellow warriors, “How could he
not?” One wonders, as his life waned on that fire-filled hill, did his mind wax
with thoughts of fulfilled purpose – of one’s conscience reconciled to one’s
duty? Truly, monuments to courage and honor are erected of marble and granite,
but let us never forget that they first rise to soaring heights from the seeds
of sacrifice watered by the blood of the fallen.
In a Sports Illustrated piece published after Sgt. Tillman’s death, it was
recorded that Elizabeth McKenrick, wife of 4th Ranger Training Battalion
Commander Terry McKenrick, wisely directed her nine year-old’s heart and every
American hearthstone to this quintessential patriot’s grave. Generally, she
does not allow her children to watch news regarding the war for fear that they
will worry for their father; but when she saw the reports about Sgt. Tillman,
she called the young one to her side: “Listen,” she said. “Listen to the story
of what this man did.”
Listen indeed. And remember, all of them. Those of the greatest
generation and those of every great generation. One of the Almighty’s many
blessings upon our heritage is the unbroken line of heroes that wind through the
halls of our history. As we turn to look at them with those eyes of reverence,
shrouded in tears, we can almost see them, resplendent in abiding youth. They
seem to be calling, beckoning us to meet them outside – within the gates of the
hallowed grounds ‘neath which they reside. One such place, the American
cemetery at Colleville-sur-Mer in Normandy, France, is home to 10,943 boys whose
sodded beds and immaculate marble, star and cross headboards all look west
toward the land they loved and left, never to return. In a chapel there, midst
them all, a message is inscribed. May God impel us all to engrave it upon our
hearts and minds, never to forget:
“Think not only upon their passing,” it reads. “Remember the glory of
their spirit.”
Norm Rust graduated with a degree in history from the Univ. of Md., Baltimore
County. He lives in Halethorpe and is currently available to conduct workshops
and seminars in American history and Christian citizenship. For more
information, Norm can be reached at 410-242-1329 or at
rust5532@hotmail.com
Age Grouping: all ages