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Jewish World Review Feb. 4, 2004 / 12 Teves, 5764 Jewish War Veterans: A Wee Bit Slower But Still Fighting The Good Fight By Steve Young
http://www.jewishworldreview.com |
There's a regular caller who is part of Sean Hannity radio lore. His name is Marty and he is a rather elderly
gent who makes his presence known with his daily call to the show followed by Hannity's hallmark,
"Ma-a-arty!" A couple months back a columnist used Marty's name to take the conservative host to task.
Sean took great umbrage at the using of Marty, a WWII vet who fought valiantly at Normandy on D-Day, to
make political hay. Some thought that perhaps Sean was a bit over the top with his reaction to the columnist.
Then again, maybe not.
Over the recent holidays, I stopped in to Jewish War Veterans post 697 in Levittown, PA where I am a
member, though in dues-paying name only. I live on the West Coast so my involvement is pretty much limited
to receiving their monthly newsletters and using their holiday return address labels liberally, if you catch my
living in Hollywood, left-leaning no-snow drift.
This particular JWV post, Fegelson-Young-Feinberg, was named after my father and two other original,
now deceased, WW II veterans, and I have been a member for years. But it had been years since I actually
attended a meeting. In fact, when I was young I had been reticent to be part of any group that separated
itself by name. Didn't that mean you were different, or worse, better than another group? My youthful
idealism, right along with my youthful ignorance, kept me from gathering the real story. This meeting was that
story.
Here were men and women who, for the most part, received their veteran status through their involvement in
World War II and the Korean conflict when they were in their twenties. Over fifty years ago, most of these
vets are now in their late 70's and 80's, retired from business and looking little like the young, healthy and
enthusiastic individuals they were when they fought bravely protecting our country. Now their children are
too old to serve. Many of their grandchildren are passing the age of service.
They had trouble rising from their seats and walked slowly, if they still could walk, to the lectern to speak.
Their voices were low, raspy from age and those who were trying to listen weren't having it much easier.
In many ways, observing this group, with their youth harder to recall with each passing year, it would at first
seem rather sad. That is until you start to listen to what they were saying or you follow their plodding gait to
where they planned to lend a hand next. Then it was like these old warriors had taken a delightful swim in the
pool from "Cocoon" where they emerged from the wrinkled cloak of age and seemed to pick up right from
where they were when they wore their uniforms of country, to again, fight the good fight.
Know what these old coots were up to? For one, anything that has to do with veterans affairs, from writing
letters to get more aid for those brothers and sister veterans who will never get out of the hospital to picking
up the utensils and feeding those who no longer can manage for themselves. And it's not like they take the
easy route.
I went with a number of 697 Post members on a rather harrowing Christmas morning drive to Coatesville
Veterans hospital; through snow and ice, on more than a 100 mile slippery round trip up the Pennsylvania
Turnpike from Levittown to Coateville so that they could share some smiles and company with their interred
and invalid comrades. My fellow passengers, these near eight decade old youngsters, who had faced down
death in actual combat, now laughed hysterically at stories they had heard many times before and here I was
holding the arm rest so tight my fingerprints still remained months after I returned to my warm and un-icy
west coast home. What a man.
But when we arrived at our destination, the greeting from the staff and those damaged veterans who have
called this hospital "their home," many since they left the service to their country, it made clear why we were
there. The vets understood for that moment that they weren't forgotten and instantly my icy-road anxieties
and my doubts about the meaning of the JWV, became insignificant and embarrassingly selfish. No one
asked what religion or what political party was holding the fork or receiving the food. No one asked how
fast you could walk or how different one was from another. This was not about being divided. This was truly
about bringing together.
But the hospital visits are just a small part of what the Jewish War Veterans stand for. Nationwide, on a daily
basis, the JWV battles on the front lines helping their communities; collecting food, clothing and anything else
that they might bring hope to those in need. Whether caring for elderly veterans or cradling sick infants, they
are on hand helping out at the hospitals and retirement homes. They are at the blood banks, working with the
mentally ill, placing flags at the graves of our fallen heros, supporting the Holocaust exhibits, lobbying our
lawmakers to not forget those who sacrificed for our freedoms, telling their stories at schools, always
available to do whatever needs to be done for those who may not be able to do for themselves, showing that
you never need stop being of service, even when you're out of the service.
And while this particular story is about the Jewish War Veterans, the same story applies to all veterans
groups; the American Legion, Veteran of Foreign Wars, AmVets and so many others, no matter what war,
no matter what belief, no matter actual veteran or auxiliary.
As Abraham Lincoln once said..."To Care for Him who Shall Have Borne the Battle,
and for his Widow and his Orphan..." To that I might add, lest we forget their true worth.
I ask you, no matter whether you be Christian, Jew, Muslim, agnostic or atheist; Democrat or Republican;
liberal or conservative, honor these gems of the past, for they continue to do the work of today.
Thanks Ma-a-arty! Thanks every veteran! Thanks a lot.
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© 2004, Steve Young | ||||||||||
