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The colombarium at the National
Cemetery of the Pacific, Punchbowl crater. |
My father and his five brothers who wore the uniform during World War II are no longer with us, but I think of them often. Their stories are over, but they are not finished, in that what we consider is important about them has changed over time.
At 21 I had just moved to Palo Alto, while at that age Dad was about to complete his tour of duty in Yokohama. At 22 I was married, while Dad had yet to meet the woman to whom he would be married for 67 years. We can spend several pages more on comparing life milestones, but one thing Dad and his brothers will always--but I will never--have is their military service.
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| Paying respects to my uncles at Punchbowl |
From
2011: Lately I've been thinking more about the generation that fought and won World War II. Today's problems are daunting, but they are nothing compared to what they faced--economic catastrophe and the destruction of nations. They secured the blessings of liberty for themselves and their posterity, in the words of the Constitution, and so shall we, if we remember our forefathers' example.
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