The building on 110th street shook one night and my sister and
I heard the noisy rumbling outside and ran to the window to see
what was causing the noise. We watched the army tanks with their
menacing guns crawl up the streets and we jumped up and down
excitedly. It was time for the Armed Forces Day parade.
The next day, we stood on the crowded Fifth Avenue sidewalk and
cheered on the Army, Navy, Marines, Air Force, Coast Guard and
anyone in a uniform. Even the sanitation crew got an ovation when
they swept up after the horses that had just proudly strode by
with their riders in full military regalia.
Then there would be a display of our massive weaponry. A flat bed
truck festooned with small American flags would carry an enormous
deadly missile and another would showcase the latest feat of
American ingenuity in rocket engineering. The bands would stir
our heartbeats and our marching armed forces would smile with
pride to the cheers of the crowd and the squeals of the admiring
young girls. It seems like a million years ago but this was still
in the early sixties.
I'm not sure when the city stopped these parades or why but the
most obvious explanation would be the Vietnam War. But there were
other factors involved besides the war that triggered this loss
of patriotic zeal. In particular, JFK's assassination infected us
with a malaise that went unrecognized for years but manifested
itself in many of our films.
In 1964, I saw a film called ``The Americanization of Emily,''
starring James Garner. It was supposed to be a light-hearted
romantic comedy set in 1944 just before D-Day but it's message
was hardly light. The protagonist was a cynical hero who insisted
those military parades and memorials to heroes perpetuated wars
and made them romantic. He insisted that war was evil and ugly
and that if we quit glorifying war, we'd be less likely to ever
tolerate them again.
I found the film to be disturbing because it implicated
patriotism as a cause of warfare. This cynicism, however, was
merely a harbinger of the anti-military culture that dominated
the Vietnam Era. We stopped the parades and carried peace signs
and decried the evil machinations of our elder statesmen. Evil
old men who sent our young teenagers off to become trained
killers did not deserve respect or remembrance.
After the war, the name Vietnam became one to be avoided. For
many years, politicians refused to acknowledge the heavy price
that our soldiers paid in that conflict and only paid lip service
to their existence. It was Ronald Reagan in 1980 who dared to
praise the veterans for a job well done. This open admission of
our private pain allowed the nation's period of grieving to
begin.
The young man who protested the war so vigorously while a Rhodes
scholar in Oxford ironically is now a president faced with the
prospect of sending troops to their possible deaths in Kosovo.
One wonders how he will respond to anti-war demonstrators on the
Washington Mall. Of course, since we no longer have the draft, I
don't anticipate large crowds.
Regardless of what one feels about War and Peace, however, is
there ever any reason to dismiss the sacrifices of those who
served so bravely in our battles?
No sign of this neglect of our veterans is more blatant than when
referring to those vets of the ``forgotten war"". It's
ironic than when I ride down The Korean War Veteran's Parkway, it
is almost always deserted. Perhaps, like its namesake, it should
be called the ``forgotten parkway.''
I must confess that I, too, have always given little thought to
the Korean War. My husband is named after an uncle who perished
in this police action but no one ever talks about him.
``We lost Davey in the Korean War
And I still don't know what for
Don't matter anymore''
- John Prine
Given Hollywood's fascination with blood and violence, it seems
strange that it has largely ignored the dramatic possibilities
that this war offers. There are incidents of enormous valor,
desperate struggle and feats of Herculean resistance that rival
any war in our recent history.
For six weeks, U.S. troops fought fiercely over an area in Korea
known as the Pusan Perimeter. They suffered the heaviest
casualties of the war during this period and if anybody had
bothered to notice, this battle would be ranked along with
America's greatest displays of resistance and courage.
Do we need a Stephen Spielberg or an Oliver Stone to produce
films that stir our senses before we can appreciate the
sacrifices of our military personnel? Apparently, we do.
Tomorrow is Memorial Day and there will be a parade on Forest
Avenue to honor the dead Americans who perished in our wars. If
history repeats itself, attendance will be poor. What does it say
about us when Memorial Day only means a day off from work or
school and a day to barbecue? Time to open the beaches and break
out the suntan oil.
There is something heartbreaking about warriors marching past
empty streets to sparse crowds who represent the fewer and fewer
people who care. I intend to be there, somewhere along the route,
clapping and cheering and thanking those who served so bravely
and remembering the fallen who died for our country.
Being patriotic is not the cause of war. It is an expression of
pride for one's country and in the caliber of those who fight for
its survival. I can spare an hour or two. Please, please join me.