Most of my serendipitous encounters with a stranger typically occur with older women. Breaking that paradigm was one Sunday's moving little exchange with an elderly gentleman - a retired veteran of World War II. Now, I understand how wars can be terribly complicated and so many of them these days are really mostly politically motivated. WWII however, leaves no wiggle room for argument or ambiguity and while I don't believe WAR is ever a good way to resolve conflict, I think I can at least appreciate how and why this particular war is called "The Last Good War".
So there he was, motoring along with the assistance of a walker, his wife by his side. I had just parked and was making brisk tracks toward Busch Stadium where the Cardinals were playing the Cleveland Indians (and where, in one of those weird twists of irony, we were actually seated next to two Native Americans).
Back to my WWII vet - As we drew closer to this elderly gentleman, I realized he was wearing a WWII cap. I stopped in my tracks! How often do I come across such a person? Not often. But when I do, I always feel momentarily paralyzed, kind of shocked. Having absolutely no personal experience with any war and never having served in the military, I have no clue about what this experience could possibly be like. But I appreciate the sacrifice, and am somewhat awestruck and very...sentimental - to think that these WWII veterans are quickly disappearing.
We live in an age of immediate response and cyber-technology; intel is taken for granted and diplomacy is based on economics; apart from 9/11, we have lived relatively sheltered and arguably complacent lives. But these older men and women — these men and women are National Treasures. They were out there in the infantries, overseas in the front lines, fighting the "good fight" and literally saving lives and countries with the very notions of freedom and humanity themselves at stake. As a child, just hearing those two words "World War" in a history class was enough to invoke respect and awe, of course, from the safety of my picket fenced life. Just...the world - the whole WORLD - at WAR?!!! How horrific and scary and history-altering!
So I think in a weird way, I regress back to a childlike reaction - part fearful, part awestruck - when someone who actually FOUGHT in this war of wars, is sighted nearby, never mind coming straight toward me.
As we passed each other, I stopped for a moment so I could say "Thank you for your service!" I don't have a lot of practice at this and it felt a little awkward. But this kindly old man negotiating his side of the sidewalk stopped to acknowledge what I'd said -- and to say "thank you" right back! I could sense that we both were hesitating, unsure of who was up next or even what to say. So I started to babble what was in my head, which was that it's an honor to cross paths and that I am so sad his kind is leaving us; yikes, I know how awkward and maudlin that sounded - but to my relief, he was absolutely beaming! It was so touching to see how delighted he was that someone said something to him, to be acknowledged for his service dating to a time that is fast fading. Maybe he gets that a lot -- but I'm also sure it can never be enough.
There can never be enough "thank yous" for the sacrifices those men and women made.
We chatted for a few minutes during which time I learned he'd been drafted (and btw, another thing I love about such random encounters - there's ALWAYS something I learn from them. For example, I did NOT know they were drafting for WWII!) I felt ashamed yet wowed at the same time, which I think he also enjoyed... seeing my reactions - I was shocked! Drafted?! So - what happened?!!!? Off he was shipped to the South Pacific, circa '42. He was actually in the infantry in Luzon in the Philippines...as he spoke of it, he began to tear up...but he wanted to talk.
At this point I could see the person I was with starting to drift away and also the gentleman's wife had continued ahead toward the parking lot and was standing there and as I hoped, patiently waiting...but I was completely thrilled that my vet was so open and wanting to share...and I told him that when I think of WWII, my first thoughts are always oriented toward the European front. But I was able to make a "connection" with this older vet after all. Imagine his shock when I told him I had been to Rabaul in Papua New Guinea, and had actually explored some of the caves the Japanese had dug into the sides of the cliffs to hide their artillery (the harbor of Rabaul being a very important strategic naval base and South Pacific headquarters for the Japanese); I dove Mitsubishi bi-planes off the coast of Walindi and had done some wreck dives in Rabaul Harbor. We were both excited. He said to this day, his wife still talks about taking a vacation cruise - but he can't bring himself to board a ship; the time he spent in the South Pacific aboard armed carriers has left him with his fill of the sea.
He also commented that he was growing old and that "there aren't too many of us left!" (tearing up again)....he said that when he first came back after 1945, he didn't like to talk about the war. But now, he's full of stories and would love to share them.
He was thrilled when I asked if he would honor me with a photo together - and when I look at this picture now, I see how remarkable this man's face is....so full of character, so full of those stories, no doubt many yet to tell. He gave me his name but I've forgotten it. This happened in 2012 so the likelihood that he is still alive today is small.
But I will never, ever forget him, or this encounter, or the men and women like "my" vet, who sacrificed so much for our collective ideals.
They are the Eternal Guardians.
