On the local news tonight, they covered a moving story from this weekend. A group of WWII and Korean War veterans took an honor flight to Washington, DC to visit the memorials. A huge crowd full of current service men and women greeted them, bands played and everyone thanked them for their service. When they returned to Buffalo, another boisterous, cheering crowd met them at the airport. I broke down and cried as I watched. Those humble men and women, quivering with pride and a bit befuddled by the attention, smiled and waved shyly. Oh, how I wished my dad had lived to experience a moment of pride like that.
My friend Roxanne escorted her 90 year old father on the journey and posted hundreds of beautiful photos. She reported that he had never told them much about his experiences, sharing only superficial and humorous stories. That was very common to the WWII vets. All the years when my students did the interview project, they were shocked when they discovered what their old grandpas had done.
Only a million WWII vets are still alive. Already they are transitioning to honoring the Korean vets. Not far behind, the Vietnam vets.
Tonight, we watched the Nova Scotia Royal Tattoo, a moving tribute to Canadian veterans. They mixed bagpipes, Irish dance, military drum corps, and tumbling groups with powerful musical performances. One of my favorites, The Green Fields of France, the story of young Willie McBride, again brought me to tears. Each year, I introduced my WWI unit with tenor Ronan Tynan's wrenching rendition of this song. It tells the story of a 19 year old soldier who fell in no man's land in 1916. It reflected the senselessness of the slaughter, the futility of the sacrifice of the young men. Its poignant message is timeless.
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