Two men from totally different backgrounds went to war, action separated by 47 years. Both were officers. One came from mid-America, the other from the northeast. One came home and ascended to the top political position in our nation. The other did not, killed in a rice paddy, carrying his rifle and a legendary name in the U.S. Army.
While Memorial Day marks a time to honor those killed in service to our country, I find myself thinking about those who escaped death, and those who didn’t. In combat, survival and death often bear little or no logic. In fact, survivors often spend their lives wondering why they lived, and others didn’t. They may feel guilty. Amid their joy of living and celebrating birthdays, anniversaries and special occasions, their comrades face the world with a marble tombstone.
Memories of harrowing experiences and lost friends never vanish.
Harry S. Truman, our 33rd President, was a captain who commanded an artillery battery in the 35th Division, a National Guard unit. He had been raised in modest circumstances on a farm in Independence, Missouri. Thousands of miles away in France, in late September 1918, his battery provided support for George S. Patton’s tank brigade during the Meuse-Argonne offensive, engaged German field guns and got credit for either destroying or forcing the abandonment of two complete batteries. The 35th lost nearly 7,300 men during four days of combat. A total of 1,126 were killed or died of wounds, 4,877 were badly wounded and the balance suffered mild wounds or combat fatigue.
As the country was engaged in the Korean War, President Truman, the former Missouri artillery battery commander, issued this statement on Memorial Day, May 23, 1952:
“On this Memorial Day we should again pay tribute to the men who, by their supreme sacrifice, have helped maintain our freedom in the rugged hills of Korea, and, before that, in the great wars when all mankind was threatened with enslavement. We should pay tribute to them especially because they have shown that aggression cannot pay off. They have thereby given the world a vision and a promise of lasting peace. We must not let these men down now that the goal is so nearly attainable.”
Memorial Day speeches usually are high-sounding, filled with lofty words and phrases. Meant to be inspiring, the words can sound hollow. Somehow, when I read Truman’s words, spoken by a man known for his candor and simplicity and ingrained with the mental scars of a past war, I sense a genuine commitment to our combat soldiers.
In college nearly 50 years ago, I played lacrosse against an exceptional athlete whose team soundly defeated ours. His name was Richard Warren Pershing, known as “Dickie,” who was the grandson of the General of the Armies John Joseph Pershing. Harry Truman served under the famed General “Blackjack” Pershing. For some reason, after the game, I gloried in the fact that I played (not well) on the same field of athletic battle as the grandson of World War I’s greatest general officer.
Dickie Pershing, a 25-year-old lieutenant in Company A, 502nd Infantry, 101st Airborne Division, was killed in Vietnam on February 17, 1968. He was searching for the remains of a missing unit member as small-arms fire and rocket rained down on his position. His death touched me, though I knew him only as an opponent with a famous name on a lushly green lacrosse field.
Wars bury young men and women from every corner, ethnic and socioeconomic group in our country. Their futures end. Families and friends wonder: what could they have accomplished free of enemy gunfire? Communities, particularly smaller ones, suffer.
Despite the widespread unpopularity of the Vietnam War, Lieutenant Pershing willingly served his nation. Many in his privileged social class did not. This war differed from World War II, when men of all economic and social levels wanted to serve and rid the world of the terrible menace posed by Adolph Hitler.
Ambiguity, if not outright opposition and disgust, permeated our country during the Vietnam War. Dickie Pershing followed his sense of duty and honor. And so did others.
As often said, Memorial Day prompts reflection. We mourn the loss of those who served and died in the service of our country. In some cases, we grieve the loss of family members and friends. We remember them. We thank God we knew them. We treasure our memories, sometimes painfully so. We pay heartfelt tribute.
A farmer’s son from Missouri fights and leads on the firing fields of France. He performs superbly well. He returns home, eventually becoming leader of the Free World. A wealthy young man from New York City enjoys a privileged background and exceptional schooling. Dickie Pershing serves his nation in Southeast Asia, losing his life.
While intended to honor those who died in foreign military actions, Memorial Day pays homage to what’s very much alive: willingness to serve in terribly dangerous conditions, for your country and your comrades in arms.
Courage and commitment linked Truman and Pershing. As it always does in war.
Columnist Howard Freedlander retired in 2011 as Deputy State Treasurer of the State of Maryland. Previously, he was the executive officer of the Maryland National Guard. He also served as community editor for Chesapeake Publishing, lastly at the Queen Anne’s Record-Observer. In retirement, Howard serves on the boards of several non-profits on the Eastern Shore, Annapolis and Philadelphia.
Dick Deerin says
Good story.