Perhaps the most moving moments for me were at the World War II Memorial. Many veterans of the war were there. I know it has been the goal of many to visit there before they die. There were many in wheelchairs; many walking around using oxygen. A very dear friend who is a missionary in the Dominican Republic was home on assignment a couple of years ago, and one of the first things he did was to take his dad, a veteran of WWII to the memorial so that he could witness it.
I took many photos of the towers, the fountain, the quotes in stone, but the most moving were the photos of the veterans. I talked with a couple of them as I stood by the pool. I shared with them that my father had volunteered or been drafted, I'm not sure which, but when he arrived at Camp Blanding in Florida, he was 4-F, so he returned to Lacoochee. There he worked as a foreman in the lumber mill and guarded German war prisoners who were brought to the States to work in places like Lacoochee who had sent their young men to war.
I was born in September of 1941, just four months before Pearl Harbor. Being that young, I remember very little, but I do remember the day the war was declared over. In that little sawmill town, there was the honking of horns and people on the wooden sidewalks, crying "The war is over!"
12 comments:
Beverly, my dad was 4F, too. He had flat feet and the army wouldn't take him. He was disappointed. I remember when the war was over, but only that my mom told me it was.
I was in Belgium earlier this summer, and visited the Henri Chapelle US Cemetery commemorating the Battle of the Bulge. It was a moving experience to be there, especially so close to the 4th of July. My brother in law told me that he has never been to the cemetery without there being at least one group of Americans touring through the Cemetery. Here is a link to the a post with photographs of it if you are interested http://sfwj.blogspot.com/2008/07/4th.html
I can imagine how many people (handicapped, oxygen,etc.) needed to visit the memorial.
I didn't know what 4F meant until I read Kenju's comment. My dad was also in the war, as I guess most of ours were. He was in the "intelligence" division decoding something. Messages I guess. He had a sword and a gas mask which he kept down the basement. I guess he was worried us children would hurt ourselves on the sword. The gas mask was scary, so I never went down our basement. (until I was older).
Oh, it wasn't a real sword - just a decorative one, but it was big.
It's always touching to go to any memorial. I often stop at our cenotaph during a walk with my man - never forget.
i was in an ossuary in france where all the leg bones of the war dead were placed in one room, and the heads in another room, and the arms in another...pretty morbid, for halloween especially
Dear Bev,
Thank you so much for sharing these photos of the World War II memorial. It was so touching for me to see it as Grandpa was a Pearl Harbor Survivor.
Your little Ella is absolutely adorable and cuter each time I see her photo. I totally understand your pride and joy with her!
xo
My parents both lived through the war years. Mom was a nurse and dad was in the army. They did not speak of it much as we were growing up but later, when we were older, we heard some of their stories. It was a sad time for many. Hopefully the memorials will help those of us who did not live the experience understand the tragedy and loss left in its wake.
vote early and often
Sorry I haven't been following you wonderful posts about Washington and the war memorials, we are on holiday in Florida abd we really don't have a very reliable internet connection.... we are piggybacking wi-fi from next door!
When are you heading back to Florida?
Hi Bev. Sorry I haven't been commenting for a few days. It seems that sometimes life just demands more of my time.
Love this series on Wash. D.C. and the memorials. I never saw this one but my Hubby and I were born at that time so its very relavant to us.
Enjoyed your DC visit blog posts. DC is such a favorite city of mine. It is the one city in this country that every American can say--this is my city.
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