by Bob Becker

I remember the day two summers ago when I was walking down the steps of the World War II monument in Washington, D.C., taking baby steps so I wouldn’t walk on the heels of the small, bent-over man who seemed to be having trouble navigating his way into the 7.4 acres of bronze and granite pillars spread out before us.

I am usually not as patient, but on this day I would have waited an hour to get down those six steps. Because the old-timer in front of me was wearing a white jacket, and on the back, in bright red letters, were these two words: IWO JIMA.

“Semper Fi!” I thought, and offered him my arm.

It was hard to visualize this same man, just over 60 years earlier, as a young Marine fighting foot-by-foot across an otherwise useless South Pacific island to root out a determined enemy willing to fight to the death from caves and tunnels.

But he did, as did millions of others who stepped forward to the sound of bugles when once again an enemy threatened our shores and our way of life.

The United States had over 16 million troops in uniform through World War II, and today that number is under 2.5 million, with the death rate for World War II veterans at about 1,000 a day.

To many in today’s younger generations, World War II is little more than a footnote in a history book, dates and places that need to be remembered for the mid-term.

But for the generation that lived through Pearl Harbor, battles in places like Guadalcanal, Midway, Omaha Beach and Sicily were very real. And very deadly.

Wednesday is Veterans’ Day. It is a holiday designed to honor those who served this nation when such service was needed the most.

I would hope that the students on campus that day would take at least a minute in chapel to remember those men and women, and to thank God that such people can be found to step forward whenever circumstances make it necessary.

I am a member of the Kent County Veterans’s Honor Guard, a group of volunteers, all veterans themselves, who have pledged to see that all honorably discharged veterans are given military honors at their funeral.

Last year the Honor Guard took part in 510 such funerals, with a service offering a eulogy, a prayer, a rifle volley, Taps and then a flag presentation to the survivors.

There are four World War II vets on my Honor Guard team. All in their mid-80s, they each attend 150 funerals a year or more. In good weather or in blizzards, they stand outside a church or at a graveside to offer the final salute to the comrade-in-arms being buried that day.

Memorial Day is set aside to honor our war dead. Veterans’ Day gives us a chance to recognize those who are still with us.

How many times have you gone to Meijer and seen the bus from the Veterans’ Home parked near the front door? Thursday is usually shopping day for those who have money to spend, and you can’t walk down an aisle without seeing a guy in a wheelchair or a cane moving slowly along, checking out the merchandise.

Instead of being in a hurry, ask if you can help. Or better yet, as you walk out and you see them sitting along the benches at the front of the store, or lined up to get back on the bus, reach out the shake some hands.

“Thank you for your service to our country” means a great deal to those who feel forgotten.

We aren’t in school for Memorial Day, so there is no chapel service to honor our war dead. But Wednesday is an opportunity to honor those who are still living, and to thank God for their courage to put their lives at risk in order to allow us to worship freely and as often as we want.

The next time you get behind a senior citizen in a check-out line who is taking too long to find the right change, or almost coming to a stop trying to make a right-hand turn, think, before you judge them, what it was like to be in a bouncing LST, waiting for the ramp to be lowered so you could rush into the teeth of enemy artillery and machine gun fire.

The last line of the Honor Guard eulogy goes like this: “Here lies, all that is mortal, of a true hearted comrade and a fearless defender of his nation and his flag”.

It’s a solemn line, but is seems as if we ought to be making more of an effort to offer our thanks while they are still with us.