Some Gave All……
On a bright and crisp November morning, as I drove past the Dawson Veterans Memorial, the sun’s glow washed across the bronze names on the three military tributes making the names twinkle like daylight stars.
At that moment, I knew that I would be writing this column.
Three fairly identical monuments were erected in different eras honoring the finest from World War I, World War II, and the newest monument, which honors veterans of the Cold War, Korea and Vietnam years. Names listed are those veterans from Dawson and Lower Tyrone Township.
The memorials honor those who served and those who perished in service to their country.
I thought about Bob Franklin, the young neighbor who entertained me as a kid with magic tricks, and Melvin “Bull” Rimel, a giant of a man with a gentle spirit. Both lost their lives in the Vietnam conflict.
I thought about how the sun drenched, sparkling names represented those who loved their country so much that no sacrifice was too extreme.
I could not help wondering how those brave patriots would view the condition of America today, with political animosity and unrest embarrassing the country at historic levels.
I remembered my brothers, both of whom were listed on the WWII monument. Kenneth served in the infantry, and Louis in the Air Force.
My brothers were alike in many ways, though Ken was more outgoing and social, and Lou was quiet and reserved, especially about his military service.
Kenny talked often about his duties as an ambulance driver, the huge Red Cross on the white vehicle being a moving target for the enemy. On at least one occasion, his ambulance was hit and destroyed.
Louis rarely spoke of his service. We knew that he had trained to be a pilot, but was transferred to flight engineer when planes were not being built as fast as pilots were being trained to fly them.
His B29 bomber flew many missions, but that was all we knew. The curiosity about his silence increased over time, including thoughts that his plane may have been shot down, and the crew rescued.
I (the youngest of the family) was very close to Lou (the oldest), especially since he remained in Dawson. He and I shared a lot of ideas, and talked often about life and family.
One day, only months before Lou suffered a fatal fall, we were relaxing and enjoying a summer day on a couple of lawn chairs in his garage.
I seized the opportunity and asked, “Why didn’t you ever want to talk about your service? Everyone thinks you may have been shot down or something.”
His tearful (I had never seen Lou cry) response left me sharing my tears with his, as he seemed relieved to tell his story.
“I’m not a hero,” Lou explained, “I was trained to do a job, and I did it, but I had friends, they were like brothers. They did their job, too. But some of them flew out in the morning and never came back; some were wounded, some terribly. Some were captured. They were the heroes. I got to come back to my wife and family.”
“I never wanted to take any credit for what they died for,” he told me. “They died for my freedom.”
The session ended when Lou closed the garage door, and I sat in my truck for a while before I was together enough to leave.
With Veterans Day upon us, we are called upon to remember and celebrate the heroes of freedom like my brothers and all who served without reservation in pursuit of a common trust; a trust that reveres all who gave … and those who gave all.
Roy Hess Sr. is a retired teacher and businessman from Dawson.