“They answered the call to save the world from the two most powerful and ruthless military machines ever assembled, instruments of conquest in the hands of fascist maniacs. They faced great odds and a late start, but they did not protest. They succeeded on every front … As they now reach the twilight of their adventurous and productive lives, they remain, for the most part, exceptionally modest … In a deep sense they didn’t think that what they were doing was that special, because everyone else was doing it too.”
— Tom Brokaw, “The Greatest Generation”
They are a generation rapidly fading from the earth. My grandfather was one of them. He served in the 65th Infantry Division that landed at Le Havre, France on the 21st of January, 1945. He’s gone now, and I miss him terribly. Of the 16.1 million World War II veterans, there are just over 1 million still alive today. My grandfather’s generation, the “Greatest Generation,” are dying at a rate of more than 600 a day.
When my grandfather came home from the war more than 70 years ago, there were 16 million veterans just like him, 16 million young soldiers, sailors and Marines who returned to a vibrant workforce. They raised families and built lives. They faced challenges, many of which personal, though they never burdened anyone with them.
That’s not to say they all lived perfect lives, were perfect husbands or fathers, nor did they have perfect personalities. Lord knows, my grandfather certainly wasn’t a perfect man. My grandmother often told me how before the war he used to always laugh and sing, literally dancing in the New York streets to win her young heart. But after the war, she said, a noticeable yet subtle change could be observed. His once-burning fire for life had been replaced with something else, something far less innocent replaced his somewhat naive worldview.
Yet he, and other World War II veterans, refused to let the war be the end of them. For my grandfather, at least, he understood all too well that he had an opportunity, an opportunity so many others who answered our nation’s call did not — an opportunity to live his life.
The same could not be said for my grandmother’s brother, Mario Pelligrino, an Army Air Force gunner who was shot down over occupied France. The war would have taken everything from my grandmother had my grandfather let the war make him a casualty, too. So, though less perfect and with a heavier soul, he carried on.
From left – right: Uncle Danny, Grandpa, Aunt Patricia, Uncle John, Grandma, my father Rich, and the diabolical little midget nightmare in light grey, is me. I am standing next to my older brother Edward, who bares a striking resemblance to Grandpa.Over the decades, careers and homes were built, children were born and grew up, including my father. Their children got married — my Aunt Patricia’s wedding is shown above — and had children of their own, and now I sit here and put these words to this commentary.
My grandfather died years ago when I was a teenager, during the night, after what must have been an excruciatingly painful 25th of December. He held on throughout the somber festivities, an old soldier struggling to march on, because he didn’t want to ruin Christmas Day.
But before he let the last of that fire for life burn out, he filled my ear with life’s advice as if it was all he thought he had left to give me, perhaps not fully realizing how much he had already given. My grandfather was a part of an Italian-American generation who suffered and saw hardship at a magnitude we modern Americans cannot even comprehend, so that we future generations may be educated, leave the inner-city plantation, be prosperous, and most of all, live free.
As we lose more and more of our loved ones who were part of the “Greatest Generation,” we lose the quiet selflessness that was attributed to each of their characters, which collectively formed the foundation of the seemingly unstoppable, indomitable spirit that lays at the heart of American exceptionalism. It is only appropriate that we honor our veterans in the exceptional manner that we do, as does no other nation on earth.
This Veterans’ Day we recognize, cherish, and celebrate a generation we will soon be forced to live in a world without. They are a generation rapidly fading from the earth, but will never fade from our hearts.
Happy Veteran’s Day
Creator and Editor of People’s Pundit Daily
