WWII Memorial

I was in Washington, D.C. on May 29. I was there with 434,000 of my closest friends for the dedication of the World War II Memorial. The place was packed, but the experience was awesome. There were World War II veterans and their families from all over the country who came together for this fabulous day of remembrance and reunion. 

 We saw people who waved banners advertising a seating section for a particular unit. Because of their efforts there were folks hugging and talking and laughing and sharing who had not seen each other since landing on the beaches of Europe. Two of the four ladies that were seated in front of us were veterans of World War II. They had some wild stories (some of which may or may not have been true but were simply shared to try to get a rise out of this chaplain).

There was a man two rows behind us who was a World War II veteran. He was estranged from his son who lives across the country.

But on that day, they somehow found each other in the crowd and cried tears of reconciliation as they sat together proudly celebrating this special day in the life of this great nation.

There were veterans there wearing the uniforms they had worn while they were in the military.

They walked around standing as tall and straight as their worn bodies would allow.

There was a Native American gentleman who wore a huge headdress.

He had been one of the Navaho code talkers. I felt as if I had stepped back in time to an era of great heroes, and I had the chance to shake their hands.

There were words from Tom Hanks thanking the citizens of this country for the monetary contributions that made it possible for this memorial to be built.

There were words of admiration from Tom Brokaw lauding the selfless efforts of this, “The Greatest Generation.”

There were words of heartfelt comradeship from former President George H.W. Bush to his fellow veterans of “the great war.”

When the Marine band struck up “Hail to the Chief,” the crowd went wild, and the air was filled with electricity as President George W. Bush walked onto the platform. All partisanship was laid aside and the central focus of every thought was of gratitude to these who had served in so many places, under such austere circumstances and with such valor.

Pictures were flashed on the big screen of cemeteries around the world that contained the remains of Americans who had died in combat at those locations.

Those pictures certainly added a somber tone to those particular moments in the day. 

As the dedication ceremony concluded and we left the area, we passed by the Korean War Memorial. Etched on the smooth granite wall of that haunting setting are the words that put everything we do into perspective: “Freedom is not free.”

Chaplain Bob Anders
Montgomery, Ala.