Celebrating Veterans Day

 

Copyright © 2023

by Ralph F. Couey

Our autumn sojourn to Virginia included, naturally, a host of activities with our grandkids as we were looped into their very busy schedules.  2 concerts, 4 football games, 2 soccer matches, a visit to an art class, way too many trips to Sweet Frog, and coming to grips with the reality that the oldest one is not only driving, but off the college after this school year with the others to follow all too soon.

Beyond the fun of watching them is just the simple joy of being around them.  They grow so fast, and we are aging faster, it seems, so these moments are precious to us and to them.  These are memories that we hold onto with all we have, adding to the already special ones already stored away.

The youngest, 9-year-old Sophie (although she endlessly insisted she was already 10) took us to an event at her school for Veterans Day.  My son and I, both proud vets, attended.  When we arrived, we were directed to the library where we gathered with a roomful of other veterans and active duty.  I circulated around a bit, meeting folks who had served in Vietnam, Korea, Panama, and all the Gulf wars.  The ones still serving were present, wearing the uniform with pride. 

After a few minutes, we were all organized by service branch and lined up.  We were then marched into the gym, where each veteran was announced by name and rank.  The students loudly and enthusiastically cheered each one of us.  I have to tell you, it made my skin tingle.  We all stood and recited the Pledge of Allegiance (yes, they still do that here) and sang the National Anthem.  After we sat down, there were some short speeches by both students and staff and the guest of honor, a Captain from the National Health Service.  A video presentation of those who were no longer alive was given, and to see those young faces facing the exciting challenge of service made me sadly nostalgic.  But the reception by everyone was not forced or pro forma.  Everyone was genuinely happy to be there, and there was a warm, shared joy among everyone who was there.

After the ceremony, we were led on what was called a parade, and we trooped through hallways, lined with cheering, singing kids.  The noise was incredible, kind of like being in Arrowhead Stadium.  It was amazing.

At one point, I slowed and reached out to shake hands and high-five the kids lining the halls.  They responded with big smiles and shouts, returning the high-fives with enthusiasm.  I didn't realize immediately what such a simple gesture of acknowledgement meant to them.  And to me.  I would have taken pictures or video, but being a cold morning, I was carrying two sweatshirts and a jacket.  My one free hand was busy with a higher purpose, linking with those incredible kids.  One youngster saw my USS Missouri ballcap and talked to me in great detail about our sister ship, USS Iowa.  He knew all the vital stats, size, displacement, number and caliber of guns, top speed, everything there was to know.  I had to move on, but I could have spent some time with this one.

Because of my reduced pace, I was the last to arrive in the cafeteria where we were served some simple snacks and fresh fruit.  As I sat down with my family, I realized how pumped I was.  It had been an amazing experience,  real joy.  Looking around, I could see that my fellow veterans were feeling the same.  We had been deeply moved by what had happened.  Military service is difficult and dangerous, even under the best of circumstances, something nobody but another vet can fully appreciate.  They treated us as heroes.  And it was good.

I'll remember that day for a long time.  It was deeply satisfying for me to not only see that the kids had remembered, but that their teachers made sure they understood what being a veteran meant, and how that service affected them.  The legacy of service to our country is thus preserved and perpetuated.

Amid all my high-fiving, several teachers assured me that those kids would never forget that day, that someone after being thanked so beautifully would take the time to return that thanks.

I have no pictures to share, alas... But I know that that this memory is etched in my heart.

Perhaps that's for the best.