Memorial Day - Lest We Forget

The purpose of Memorial Day is to honor the many members of our families who served in the nation’s wars—World War I, World War II, Korean War, and Vietnam War. Let me do so. My father served in the Navy during World War I, and two uncles fought with the 32nd Division in France. Sally’s father, James Porch, commanded an infantry company in the Fifth Division’s Sixty-first Infantry Battalion during the Meuse-Argonne campaign. Three of Sally’s uncles served in the army, one of them a doctor who was gassed in France. He died of its effects several years after the war’s end, by then married and the father of two small children.

Skipping to World War II, an older brother of ours, Jim, who served with the 34th Infantry Division, 125th Field Artillery Battalion was killed in action in Italy in October 1943. He was awarded a Silver Star for his bravery in directing fire on an attacking formation of enemy tanks. Several Hansen cousins served overseas, one of them in far-off China, and his brother in the U.S. On Sally’s side, her brother, Dick Porch, with the 15th Air Force, flew hazardous bombing missions over the Ploesti oil fields in German-occupied Rumania; a cousin fought in the Battle of the Bulge and suffered what would now be called post-traumatic stress syndrome; another cousin, a pilot with the 8th Air Force, was killed when his B-17 was shot down over Germany; and still another cousin, a young woman served in the Women’s Army Corps. The man she later married had been scheduled to participate in the first wave of the planned fall 1945 invasion of Japan. Sally’s sister, Nancy, married a man who served in the Army Air Force. Several other cousins and boyfriends or husbands of less close relatives also served. Nancy’s grandson fought in Iraq and Afghanistan, and later committed suicide.
 
During the Korean War, my two brothers and I were drafted into the army and served our time but not in Korea. I ended up training Turkish soldiers in Turkey; my youngest brother, Harlan, twice had orders for Korea but ended up as an artillery instructor at Ft. Sill, Oklahoma, and my middle brother, Forest, served in SHAPE headquarters in France. Several other cousins also served in the Korean War, including one newly-married who was killed in action there.  
 
My son-in-law, Harvey Dunham, served in the Coast Guard during the final phases of the Vietnam War, stationed in southern Thailand. His father served as a Navy medic in the Pacific, and was recalled to active duty in the Korean War. Two of his father’s brothers also served in WWII, one of whom fought on Iwo Jima and the other on Guadalcanal. Two of his mother’s brothers served in WWII, both of them ended up in VA Hospitals where they died. Finally, a cousin of Harvey’s was a veteran of combat in the Vietnam War.

​My reasons for celebrating Memorial Day took on new meaning following a 1956 visit Sally and I made to World War 1 military cemeteries and battle grounds in northeastern France. The area is spotted with cemeteries for the millions of soldiers---British, French, Australian, German, and American---who died in the vicious trench warfare that went on there for more than four years.
 
The largest and most significant military engagement for the American Expeditionary Force occurred in the brutal Meuse-Argonne campaign. It lasted from late September 1918 until late October 1918, ending a couple of weeks before the November 1918 Armistice. That month-long campaign claimed the lives of 25,000 American soldiers, and it left another 75,000 wounded.  The Meuse-Argonne Cemetery we visited contained the graves of more than 14,000 Americans.
 
An even more sobering experience was our visit to the Thiepval Memorial honoring the 72,000 British Army officers and men of the British Army whose bodies could never be identified. Many of them died in the first major battle of World War 1, the Battle of the Somme.
That battle began on July 1, 1916, one hundred-years ago, and continued until November 1916. When the smoke cleared at the end of the first day of that battle, the British had gained little or no ground. That was bad enough. Much worse was the human cost. The British experienced almost 60,000 casualties that day, among them 19,000 dead. In wave after wave, the “tommies” charged out of their trenches toward the well-positioned German gun emplacements. The newest “engine of death,” the machine gun, simply mowed down the British troops as they advanced across “no man’s land.”

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Out of respect for the many Americans who fought and died fighting this country’s wars, I am always drawn to attend Memorial Day events. These gatherings are especially meaningful for two reasons.
 
As a child I remember our Memorial Day family drives to a little cemetery on Highway 45, a mile north of the crossroads known as North Cape, about 20 miles west of Racine, Wisconsin, where we lived. We made these trips to decorate the graves of my mother’s Norwegian father, George Spillum, who as a young man settled there in the late 1850s and later her mother, Anna Setterlun, who arrived as a nine year-old child from Sweden in 1869. These annual excursions excited us children because car trips in the late 1930s were a rare luxury. While at the cemetery and before a brief outdoor service began, we placed flowers on the graves of our grandparents as well as our great grandparents, who died many years earlier.
 
Decoration Day, as it was then known, sought to commemorate the Civil War dead. If any Civil War dead lay buried in the North Cape cemetery, I don’t recall. Fortunately, our grandfather did not enlist in the 15th Wisconsin Volunteer Regiment, known as the Scandinavian (mostly Norwegian) Regiment, which suffered severe casualties. Among them was its Norwegian commander, Colonel Heg, whose statue stands at the southeastern corner of the Capitol Square in Madison. Later Decoration Day became Memorial Day, a national holiday to honor the dead, whether or not they had served in the military.

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​The other reason is to honor the many members of our families who served in the nation’s wars—World War I, World War II, Korean War, and Vietnam War. My father, William R. Hansen, served in the Navy during World War I, and two uncles, Miles Hulett and Arthur Spillum fought with the 32nd Division in France. Sally’s father, James Porch, commanded an infantry company in the Fifth Division’s Sixty-first Infantry Battalion during the Meuse-Argonne campaign. Three of Sally’s uncles served in the army, one of them a doctor, Donald McPhail, who was gassed in France. He died of its effects several years after the war’s end, by then married and the father of two small children.
 
Skipping to World War II, an older brother of ours, Jim, who served with the 34th Infantry Division, 125th Field Artillery Battalion was killed in action in Italy in October 1943. He was awarded a Silver Star for his bravery in directing fire on an attacking formation of enemy tanks. Several Hansen cousins served overseas, one of them, also named Lee Hansen, in far-off China, and his brother Roger in the U.S. On Sally’s side, her brother, Dick Porch, with the 15th Air Force, flew hazardous bombing missions over the Polesti oil fields in German-occupied Romania; a cousin, Don McPhail, fought in the Battle of the Bulge and suffered what would now be called post-traumatic stress syndrome; another cousin, Charles Chadwick with the 8th Air Force, was killed when his B-17 was shot down over Germany; and still another cousin, a young woman, Carolyn McPhail, enlisted in the Women’s Army Corps. The man Carolyn later married, Eddie Wiertelak, had been scheduled to participate in the first wave of the planned fall 1945 invasion of Japan. The man, George Crenshaw, Sally’s sister, Nancy, later married served in the Army Air Force. Several other cousins and boyfriends or husbands of less close relatives also served. Nancy’s grandson fought in Iraq and Afghanistan, and later committed suicide.
 
Between WWII and the Korean War, a cousin, Robert Fridlington, spent more than a year in Korea. During the Korean War, my two brothers and I were drafted into the army and served their time but not in Korea. I ended up training Turkish soldiers in Turkey; my youngest brother, Harlan, twice had orders for Korea but ended up as an artillery instructor at Ft. Sill, Oklahoma, and my middle brother, Forest, served in SHAPE headquarters in France. Several other cousins also served in the Korean War, including newly-married Donald Ebert who was killed in action there.

​My son-in-law, Harvey Dunham, served in the Coast Guard during the final phases of the Vietnam War and was stationed in southern Thailand and later on Marcus Island. His father, Jack Dunham, served as a Navy medic at a hospital on Manus Island, north of Australia, that cared for the severely wounded from fighting in the South Pacific in WWII; he was recalled to active duty in the Korean War. Two of his father’s brothers also served in WWII, one of whom fought on Iwo Jima and the other on Guadalcanal. Two of his mother’s brothers served in WWII, both of them ended up in VA Hospitals where they died. Finally, a cousin of Harvey’s was a veteran of combat in the Vietnam War. 

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​The Madison area features a number of Memorial Day celebrations. One of the biggest, and the one I usually attend, takes place today at the State Street entrance to the State Capitol. It begins with a VFW band concert at 9:30 a.m., followed by the 10 a.m. program that features the traditional reading of General Logan’s General Order #11 that established Decoration Day,  Lincoln's Gettysburg Address, plus comments from Madison Mayor Paul Soglin. In addition, family members of the several hundred Madison-area veterans known to have died within the last year are to be recognized.
 
Several years ago, I decided to do something different. I drove 80 miles to North Cape, located about 20 miles west of Racine, Wisconsin, and continued north to the old North Cape cemetery on Highway 45 for a 7:45 a.m. Memorial Day service. Arriving early, I took time to visit the graves of our ancestors. The worn gravestones of our great grandparents, the last of whom died a century ago, had been replaced a few years ago. The gravestones of our grandparents are so weathered the inscriptions are difficult to make out; soon those gravestones will also have to be replaced. Then I wandered about the cemetery, noting the names of families my mother and grandmother frequently mentioned when they talked about the “old days” in North Cape.
 
The Memorial Day ceremony was not an elaborate one. The American Legion Honor Guard from nearby Waterford assembled along the front edge of the cemetery. They faced the assembled crowd of about 35 local people, ranging from small children to one ancient man who must surely have been a WWII veteran.
 
The ceremony began with the calling of the roll, the names of the probably 15 local veterans who died in the past year. As each name was called out, the response was “Not Present.” The leader of the group then read from General John Logan’s 1868 Proclamation establishing Decoration Day to honor the Civil War dead. The Lutheran minister, from the Norwegian Lutheran Church (established in 1850) across the road, quoted from Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address, and followed with a reading from the Bible. The color guard presented arms and fired the customary salute. This was followed by the sound of “Taps” coming from two buglers, one with the honor guard and the other echoing the sound from a distant corner of the cemetery. 
 
The ceremony proved to be a moving one. As always, it left me more than misty-eyed. What a sad but still glorious day, to honor the many who died but so much too soon.

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​The crowds attending Memorial Day services seem to be steadily declining. As I noted a year ago, honoring Memorial Day faces ever greater competition - the proliferating array of activities that compete with the purpose of that day, which is to honor those who fought and died fighting this country’s wars. Among these activities here in Madison is the weekend’s “World’s Largest Brat Fest,” the Henry Vilas Zoo Birthday Party, Madison’s Half- Marathon, and a host of other local events.
 
Is there some way to reawaken public interest in Memorial Day and its significance? Doing so will be difficult as veterans of World War II and their families fade away, followed shortly thereafter by the veterans of the Korean War and their families. The unpopularity of the Vietnam War and the many fewer veterans of that war may further undermine the significance of Memorial Day in the years ahead.
 
Let us hope that will not be the case. Perhaps we should call for a minute of silence at 11 a.m. to make the public more aware of Memorial Day and what it means. For decades we observed a minute of silence at 11 a.m. on November 11th to commemorate Armistice Day, now known as Veteran’s Day. This might be an effective way to recognize the ultimate sacrifice made by so many young Americans to preserve our freedom, liberty, and way of life.