
Photo: The Unwritten Record.
African American Women in the military during WW II.
November 11 is Veterans Day in the US. Veterans come in all shapes and sizes and they all deserve recognition. The African American veterans above served in the military in World War II.
A veteran from more recent times was honored in this reminiscence at the Washington Post. Lauren Koshere, a volunteer with Veterans Affairs’ My Life, My Story program and a food service worker at William S. Middleton Memorial Veterans Hospital in Madison, Wisconsin, shared some poignant memories.
“Final Salutes don’t come with much notice, maybe five minutes. But even those of us in chronically understaffed departments can attend. I join a river of co-workers flowing toward Ward 1B: nurses in turquoise scrubs, doctors in white coats, executives in business suits, police in uniform and me in a hairnet and black polyester polo — ‘VA Food Service’ embroidered over the heart — but without my usual stainless-steel tray cart.
“Most of us working in Veterans Affairs hospitals are not veterans. But the nurse standing across from me, in a hall lined with people, must be a veteran: She knows exactly how to stand with respect for a memorial service. I try to copy her posture, feet shoulders-width apart, hands joined behind my back.
“No one speaks. Then the quiet is broken by a single resonant tone. Five seconds of silence. Then another tone. A nurse carrying a brass singing bowl and wooden mallet appears from the hospice unit. She strikes the bowl again. Behind her, another nurse escorts a morgue cart draped in an American flag.
“I think of a hospice patient I’ve been bringing meals to for weeks. He was born in the late 1940s. Every day, his thin form lies at the same angle under a faded Green Bay Packers blanket.
“Until a hot day in July, we had never spoken — I suspected he couldn’t — but he always nodded and made eye contact when I set down his dinner tray. On this day, I pointed to a cup of chocolate ice cream he had ordered. ‘It’s a good day for ice cream.’
“He surprised me by replying, ‘Every day is a good day for ice cream.’
“The gurney comes into full view, and I now see a black baseball cap with a yellow, red and green Vietnam veterans badge resting on the flag.
“When the procession stops, people remove their hats. Veterans salute, and hold it, while the rest of us raise our hands to our hearts. The first notes of a ‘Taps’ recording fill the hallway, and we are locked in stillness. …
“My vision blurs as the song continues, and I wonder how many other funerals are being remembered in this hallway. I hear soft, deep sighs and a few sniffles. …
“As the flag-draped gurney passes on its way to the morgue, I realize it isn’t every day that I’m this close to the sharply defined red, white and blue. Working with veterans reminds me of what millions have invested for the idea of that flag. But it also reminds me of what that flag has asked, has taken. …
“Joseph Campbell said, ‘Affirmation is difficult. We always affirm with conditions.’ But ‘affirming it the way it is — that’s the hard thing, and that is what rituals are about.’
“To affirm unconditionally. To affirm the way it is. Ritual asks us to suspend our noise and our opinions and our egos. For a few moments of sacred silence, we affirm, creating the space where ritual works its power: weaving the personal to the anonymous, the individual to the universal, the known to the unknown.
“During a Final Salute, the deceased veteran’s identity is not disclosed. … The Final Salute on this day has gathered strangers in honor of a stranger. I don’t know whose loved one walks behind the gurney. I don’t know who lies under the Vietnam veterans hat, the American flag. But I did know a veteran who liked the Packers and chocolate ice cream.
“I never saw him again.”
More at the Post, here.


