Thoughts for the Times

            Another World War II veteran has died, and "The Greatest Generation" is slipping away from us quickly on a daily basis. That historical chapter fades into our past, and the majority of people alive today have no personal knowledge or recollection of those terrible years that divided our worlds.

            We have recorded memories of course, made available by technology and families who want to keep loved ones alive for generations to come. We have books and CDs, television programs and Tom Brokaw, who helped to memorialize and better define those soldiers within their days of battles. Did you read "The Greatest Generation Speaks?"

            Did you ever watch "Bridge on the River Kwai, The Enemy Below or The Flying Leathernecks?" Have you seen "The Longest Day, Stalag 17 or Saving Private Ryan?" Did the sights and sounds of the stirring "Victory at Sea" swell in your gut as the ships drove forward through stormy ocean waters toward unknown challenges and battles? Were you cozy and comfortable in your recliner while these films played out their horror stories?

            Wartime has been documented from the European to South Pacific fronts, and we can see the history of those days in our local museum, libraries, video stores and televisions. But have we really learned anything from those veterans who fought "the war to end all wars" on behalf of the loved ones they left behind to "keep the home fires burning?" What did the patriotism and sacrifice of those wartime soldiers really mean to those who were born long after their times of service?

            I was privileged to grow up in a time when honor, truth and loyalty were virtues well demonstrated by my own father's actions. Although he and my mother had a young child, his sense of duty and patriotism were so real that he bravely volunteered for the Marine Corps. He was in his in his mid-thirties, well beyond the traditional age of most others called into service. But he felt his construction engineering skills could be of help to his country, and so he was sent to Iwo Jima and Tarawa, Saipan, Wake Island, Bataan, Tinian, Okinawa and Guadalcanal to help win "the war to end all wars."

            He nearly died of fever in a Pacific hospital, and came home to my mother gaunt and changed. He brought home some pictures of dead Japanese soldiers on a runway he had built, and silent memories of friends dying in his arms. But even more than that, he brought home a renewed sense of strength and courage.

            I didn't understand what war really meant then. I was a little child and thought there was no one more handsome than my Daddy in his uniform. But it wasn't until the very last years of my father's life that he was able to share some of those life-changing experiences. Sadly, it was not with me, but only with other veterans he met in the retirement community where he lived his final years. They were Army and Navy and Marines represented, and they grew close over those elderly years of wartime tales. My dad talked more about being a Marine in those last few years than I had ever heard him tell. He often wore a Marine cap over his balding head with pride; he always said he lost his hair in the Philippines under his helmet during the war! His Marine cap sat atop his coffin at his final service. We had "Taps" played for him. It seemed a fitting goodbye at his end. He had begun his life as an honorable man of great integrity. The Marines just kept up with him!

            As I attended the memorial service for another Pacific theater Marine veteran last weekend, the haunting "Taps" was played again and full dress Marines presented the folded flag with the traditional words; "On behalf of the President of the United States, the Commandant of the Marine Corps, and a grateful nation, please accept this flag as a symbol of our appreciation for your loved one's service to Country and Corps."

            I cried then, for this departed veteran who was father of my friend, for my own beloved father, and for all those soldiers who had battled for our freedoms over hundreds of years. And I cried too for the absence of the integrity and truth my father held dear in his own life, and gave his children as well. My father was an honest man in all his dealings with friends and strangers. His business ethics were unshakable. His word was his bond and all who knew him respected that.

            His promises were upheld and he treated everyone with the same dignity and honor he expected in return. Corruption and dishonesty were unacceptable to him. Even though he lived in a state with a terrible political reputation for leaders and subordinates, and headed a business notorious for payoffs, he refused to accept the platitude excuse that "It is OK to do it because everyone is doing it." He was generous, thoughtful and caring to all. But more than just demonstrating the outward symbols, he attended church frequently and practiced the meaningful faith of his youth. He lived his beliefs and moral code, unlike many of today's public churchgoing hypocrites who attend on Sunday but openly lie, cheat and steal from Monday through Saturday.

            My father nearly gave his life in wartime, as did my brother-in-law. They were brave men both, but much of their courage came from their personal convictions and heartfelt beliefs in the democracy of the country where loved ones waited for them to safely return. But in last weekend's memorial service, I also cried for the tarnishing of the ideals and honor that both drove and supported my father's life. Today, too many have dedicated themselves to self-enrichment, self-interest and self-promotion. The values of hard work, education and honesty suffer in the society around us. We see corrupt public officials, many of whom seem only to be interested in the "what's in it for me" theory of government. Such public tragedy exists at all levels now, when money will buy environmental permits, elections and promote the good of the few.

            Integrity? Ethics? Respect for just laws, for others, for self? We see instead an educational wasteland, elections bought and sold, Ponzi schemes, institutional, political and moral bankruptcy and perhaps even the beginning of the end of our culture and nation. Growing children wonder why they should do right and be honest because they see that "nice guys do finish last." We see society trying to destroy itself from within; never mind terrorists or outside aggressors!

            As I left the memorial service in that museum building designed in tribute to those who fought for the country they held dear, I wept for more than the loss of another veteran. I cried for the loss of values and honor that most veterans held dear. They fought and died for their country as well as for the safety and protection of their loved ones back home. Those soldiers and veterans held high respect for the ideals of their country and fought to make a better place for their children and families.

            How tragic it must be for them to see what their descendants have done to the democracy they tried to protect.

            Mel Kelly currently resides in Carrabelle.