The gently sloping hills of Arlington National Cemetery overlook the nation’s capital.  From this vantage point, thousands of soldiers, sailors, airmen and marines look across the Potomac River in formation.  It is as if in their passing, they continue to look over us and the country because it is their legacy. 

Here, colonels are among corporals and privates among generals.  Alas, they have come together for their final rest.  Some served for a short time while others did so for a lifetime.  But now, time is irrelevant as we salute them, pay respect to their deeds forever as they have arrived for their final rest. 

Overwhelmingly, those who rest here are unknown but to their loved ones and the brothers and sisters in arms with whom they served.  Often, their heroic actions are unknown to their parents, spouses, children, and grandchildren.  For the family, the only way they may know is through a written citation that accompanies the awarding of a medal.  Or, if they have met those with whom their loved one served.  Those heroic deeds are known only to those who, in their most life-threatening moments, served at their side to keep each other alive to see another dawn.

Today, March 5, my father’s ashes will be interred in Arlington National Cemetery for his final rest.  Officially, the documents inform us that Emerson “Top” Trainer retired from the Army after over 21 years of active duty.  Those years spanned the period from November 1949 to March 1971.  He was seventeen when he enlisted and found himself in Korea a few months after his eighteenth birthday and just weeks after the outbreak of the Korean War.  He was seriously wounded in January 1951. 

He kept re-enlisting.  He knew the risks, but he had also found a “home”.  While he didn’t excel in school, he was very good at soldiering.  From the ice and cold of Korea in the 1950s, the heat and humidity of Vietnam greeted him in the 1960s.  As he rose through the ranks to become a First Sergeant in a rifle company in Vietnam, his experience and contribution to the lives of his young soldiers were not unnoticed.

Retired General McCaffrey, my father’s company commander in 1968, wrote in the Foreword of The Fortunate Son: Top, Through the Eyes of Others that “He gave a sense of being the ‘father’ of these young soldiers. Absolutely fearless. Quiet. Dignified. A teacher. Very gentle way of dealing with people. He was a natural leader. He expected to be obeyed.”  As a young captain and company commander, General McCaffrey added that “I considered him to be the co-commander of the company. He was a rock. The soldiers loved him. He was one of them.” 

After two combat tours of duty in Vietnam and another Purple Heart, the Army was clear that its losses of combat-experienced senior non-commissioned officers dictated that he be placed back on orders for Vietnam after recuperating from burns he suffered.  He reluctantly retired from his Army family.   

Though he no longer wore the uniform, he was never anything but a soldier in mind and spirit.  As the years passed, the young soldiers he had helped get through their combat tours in Vietnam sought him out, and he relished being with them at reunions and other gatherings.  He liked being with other soldiers.  He was in his element.  He understood them, and they understood him.  He made life-long bonds as evidenced by the fact that half a century after serving together in Vietnam, he regularly attended reunions, weekend gatherings, and spoke often to his former soldiers.

For him and so many who are at eternal rest in Arlington, so much about who they were and what kind of soldiers they were is told by what appears on the uniform they wore.  Luckily for my family, there is a group of men who wanted to express their respect for their “Top” (their First Sergeant).  In The Fortunate Son, they described publicly their Vietnam experience and the impact that Top had on their lives so that he would know what he meant to them. 

We are fortunate.  Over the years, we have spent time with many of the men who served with our soldier.  While tears may be shed on this day that he is interred, we celebrate his life and the many positive effects he had on the lives of his brothers in arms and their families.    

If you find yourself in the nation’s capital, look west across the national mall to the rolling hills beyond the Lincoln Memorial.  You may see those who have watched over the country still in perfect formation and wonder if we continue to be worthy of their service and sacrifice.    

A good friend in Michigan announced the very recent passing of his father.  I never met his father, but the son, my friend, is someone with whom I have spent time discussing things professionally and also passing time as we solved the world’s problems.  The man was in his mid-nineties and a World War II veteran.  A year has passed since I received a similar announcement from another friend in New York.  In the latter case, I had met her father once, and we had dined together, having had a great, enjoyable and memorable evening. 

My thoughts of their passing were, for some inexplicable reason, emotional.  The passing of these two men made me pause and consider the fact that during the past year I have met two other men who are in their mid-90s.  Regardless where these men came from, what their long life’s activities may have been, the one thing that I realized that makes them special to me is that these men served their country during World War II.  I wonder if it would be possible to meet men of that age who did not serve in uniform during that war.

Considering the men I have met or fathers of friends who have lived into their 90s, their wartime service experience screamed out at me.  We often hear about the Greatest Generation and the men and women who make up that generation.  These men represent something special in the history of the United States.  They were of the depression era and a tough life as children and youth only to be called upon to fight a global war in Africa, Asia, and Europe. 

They created that glue that bound people to a common cause, common objective of a hard-working country that could do so much.  A horrific world war, their service, their sacrifices and the way they came home and went about their lives framed the way the country moved forward during the post-war period. 

They did not necessarily address the injustices of their own country, but they gave the country the time to progress to become the global beacon of the ideals that others sought to achieve.  We should remember that many of them returned home to create a vibrant economy and delivered a working middle class that was envied by the world.  Many of their contemporaries became elected officials who, while there remained many shortcomings of the promise of the country’s founders, worked hard and succeeded in passing legislation in the 1960s to address some of those injustices.

The passing of each of our 90-somethings citizens is more than the loss to one family.  It is a national loss to that direct link to a special time in U.S. history.  These are the great grandparents who, in their youth, confronted hardships that the vast majority of Americans will, fortunately, never know.    

We lose something of ourselves as we lose the direct link to that period when millions of Americans served and sacrificed far more than we have been asked to do in recent decades.  What they gave the country is its reputation of hard work, overcoming hardship, and some semblance of seeking to self-improve.  With their eventual passing, it may be that the reputation they fought for passes with them as the Greatest Generation hands off the future to something less.      

Money, power, fame and fan adulation appear to be important to politicians, sports figures, television personalities, and online influencers among others.  Given all the headline attention that some of the people in those fields receive, it is no surprise that a combination of big bank accounts, influence, and the spotlight follow.

Veterans, the thousands of anonymous men and women who are asked to be constantly ready for the worst things that might happen the country, do their work for modest pay, no “power” beyond the power that comes with their rank and respect from their fellow men and women in uniform.  Their “business” is done outside the limelight and make headlines when something happens that many would rather not see.  No one gets rich while serving in uniform and the few that may have any fan following get it after some horrific events have occurred.

The unfortunate historical development of the past fifty-five years is that we demonized our combat veterans of the Vietnam era.  Society’s reaction to those who met the call and served in Vietnam caused them to go “underground” in the sense that many who served their two or three-year commitments left the military and attempted to bury that experience and hide it for decades after their service. 

Veterans of the Vietnam era were the last to confront something that the majority of Americans today may not comprehend—conscription, or more commonly referred to as the “draft.”  Unlike today’s volunteer military, tens of thousands of young American men waited for the draft board to send them their notices, or facing the inevitable, some signed up with the knowledge that it was only a matter of time till they would be called upon to serve.  Drafting manpower to fight in Vietnam invested more of U.S. society into following what the Government was doing and that resulted in the pressures to find a way out of an unpopular war.    

During the past twenty years of wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, we seemed to have made a deliberate effort to make a distinction between the politicians and their decisions about wars and those who have volunteered to serve and fight the wars.  In recent years, on the streets, on television, on social media platforms, and elsewhere, we often hear or see notes expressing, “Thank you for your service.” 

It is hard to determine if expressing that sentiment allays the bitterness that some of our Vietnam veterans have felt for decades.  Whether it does or not, what is evident is that we do see more and more of our Vietnam combat veterans and other Vietnam era veterans wearing hats or shirts that signify their past service. 

While the vast majority of the veterans of our most recent wars are still relatively young, we should remind ourselves that as the few remaining World War II veterans pass away, the youngest of our two other wars (Korea and Vietnam) are now at least seventy years old.  Our Korean War veterans are well into their eighties.  With the withdrawal of U.S. combat troops from Vietnam in 1972, the youngest of those veterans are nearing seventy years old with the vast majority having already passed that milestone.

From the veterans of our most unpopular war, there is a great legacy being left to us by our Vietnam veterans.  The greatest legacy is the one they have given each other . . . life.  When a group of these old warriors reunite with men from their old units, they may shake hands, they may give their buddies a squeeze on the shoulder or a healthy slap on the back, but many embrace each other, embracing the life they gave each other for these additional fifty-plus years. 

That gift of life to each other has led to spouses, children, and grandchildren.  They provided each other a return home to see parents and siblings, living decades that were denied their fellow warriors who fell in battle.  Reunions are a time when each of these old warriors can see the legacy of generations that they gave each other. 

Today, the men and women who served decades ago in that most unpopular war are proud of their service.  Many proudly wear hats or shirts that signify their service.  These warriors, having their service and sacrifice disparaged for many years, have aged with the knowledge that, in the eyes of those who matter—their brothers in arms, they served with honor.  They had each other’s back.  They gave each other the legacy of life, allowing them to raise their families.  As individuals, they may not have fame or fortune, but the gift they gave each other is priceless.

On May 21, 2022, Chicago Podcast Day featured panels and presentations designed to help the Chicago podcast community create and succeed in the booming podcasting space. Curious about how to launch a show? It was covered. How about monetizing your existing podcast? That, too. Topics included editing tips, legal considerations, DIY marketing and creating a branded podcast for business. All levels were welcomed, from the “podcast curious” to the “seasoned veteran.”

The program was presented by James VanOsdol, 2112 Chicago, and the Center for Creative Entrepreneurship.

Speakers:

Amy Guth (Crain’s Daily Gist)

Jill Hopkins (Metro/GMan, formerly Vocalo)

Ilya Zlatkin (Zlatkin Wong LLP)

Chris Lanuti (Sox in the Basement)

Lou Carlozo (Qwoted)

Jaime Black (Dynasty Podcasts)

Alex Stewart (Sassy Confetti)

Erik White (Cumulus Media)

Mike Vanderbilt (Halloweenies)

Martin Atkins (Museum of Post Punk and Industrial)

Todd Ganz (If the Walls Could Talk)