One on vets, and Iraq.
May. 29th, 2005 12:34 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
conuly
I'm almost done, promise.
Old Soldiers Proud of Their Scars, but Unsure They'd Join Today
By PETER APPLEBOME
Levittown, N.Y.
THERE is plastic red, white and blue bunting above the U-shaped bar at American Legion Post 1711 on North Jerusalem Road, and a 20-foot-long torpedo outside. There are dozens of Little League and softball trophies in the meeting room upstairs, a forlorn copy of an ancient record album, "Connie Francis Sings Italian Favorites," and pictures of the post commanders going back to 1952. You can set your clock by the regulars who show up every day at 2 p.m. for the three-ball game at the pool table.
They all served, mostly in Korea or World War II, some in Vietnam. They're all proud of it. They like to think they serve still. They've organized two huge food drives to collect packages of food to send to the troops in Iraq. "Support Our Troops," reads the yard sign in front of the torpedo by the front door.
"We had a few guys shot up pretty bad or who were P.O.W.'s, but no one talks about it," said Vincent Solimine, a 75-year-old Korean War veteran. "We don't have lieutenants or sergeants or privates. We're just a bunch of guys who get together to play cards, play pool, drink a beer. We don't talk politics. We talk about our wives, or kids or vacations."
Still, when asked the other day, pride mixed with doubt, support with regret. And if the military wants to know why it's having such difficulty recruiting young soldiers, it won't get much comfort from picking the brains of these old ones. Questioned whether they would choose to join the military were they young men today, six of the eight veterans sitting around the bar said no.
"I don't think it's our war to begin with," Mr. Solimine said. "I still don't know what it's supposed to be about. Oil? Is it about mass destruction weapons they had which were never found? I'm not an isolationist, but I can't see what we're doing over there."
And so, for the most part it went, from Larry Fitzsimmons, at 53, the youngest, to Fred Cassar, at 83, the oldest. Mr. Cassar served in a heavy artillery unit during World War II and remembers it as both frightening and exciting. "I enjoyed being in the Army," he said. "You saw things you would not have seen, and I'm sure that's true now." But he, too, shuddered at the thought of service now in a perilous war whose rationale eludes him. "I will always support the troops that are there, but if my son wanted to join, I'd discourage him. I feel sorry for the guys that are over there. A lot of them are there because they have nothing to look forward to here, and they think the Army can give them a better life."
THERE were exceptions. Edward Silvester, visiting from Post 390 in Hempstead, said military benefits put him through college and helped him buy a house when he was young, so he might join, if he figured he could avoid Iraq. The only real hawk was Carl Austin, 58, the bartender, who said he did two Air Force tours of Vietnam and believed the war could transform the Middle East, which engendered much hooting back and forth.
Mostly there was the sense of too much risk for too vague a cause.
"You're in a place where you don't know who is your friend and who's your enemy, where someone can walk up to you like he's your friend and then blow both of you up," said Artie Delury, 62, who served during Vietnam. "How can you fight a guerrilla war like that?
Conflicted in a different way was Robert Patterson, an immigrant from Ireland celebrating his 60th birthday, who was sent to Korea during the Vietnam War before he even became a citizen. He could not see enlisting to go to Iraq. "This country has been so good to me," he said. "It's not my role to criticize, but I go back to the old country, and they used to love America, and they're now all anti-American. It hurts me very much."
Still, this is a weekend more about the past than the present. And they probably steer away from politics for good reason. So on Monday, most of them will march in the local Memorial Day parade. Some spent yesterday placing flags on graves at military cemeteries and others will place wreaths on monuments to the war dead. At the parade, Mr. Patterson will play his bagpipes, either "Amazing Grace" or "God Bless America."
And the men of Post 1711 will offer prayers of thanks and remembrance for the old warriors who sacrificed in the past and prayers of thanks and hope for the young ones sacrificing today in another war in another time in another place.
Old Soldiers Proud of Their Scars, but Unsure They'd Join Today
By PETER APPLEBOME
Levittown, N.Y.
THERE is plastic red, white and blue bunting above the U-shaped bar at American Legion Post 1711 on North Jerusalem Road, and a 20-foot-long torpedo outside. There are dozens of Little League and softball trophies in the meeting room upstairs, a forlorn copy of an ancient record album, "Connie Francis Sings Italian Favorites," and pictures of the post commanders going back to 1952. You can set your clock by the regulars who show up every day at 2 p.m. for the three-ball game at the pool table.
They all served, mostly in Korea or World War II, some in Vietnam. They're all proud of it. They like to think they serve still. They've organized two huge food drives to collect packages of food to send to the troops in Iraq. "Support Our Troops," reads the yard sign in front of the torpedo by the front door.
"We had a few guys shot up pretty bad or who were P.O.W.'s, but no one talks about it," said Vincent Solimine, a 75-year-old Korean War veteran. "We don't have lieutenants or sergeants or privates. We're just a bunch of guys who get together to play cards, play pool, drink a beer. We don't talk politics. We talk about our wives, or kids or vacations."
Still, when asked the other day, pride mixed with doubt, support with regret. And if the military wants to know why it's having such difficulty recruiting young soldiers, it won't get much comfort from picking the brains of these old ones. Questioned whether they would choose to join the military were they young men today, six of the eight veterans sitting around the bar said no.
"I don't think it's our war to begin with," Mr. Solimine said. "I still don't know what it's supposed to be about. Oil? Is it about mass destruction weapons they had which were never found? I'm not an isolationist, but I can't see what we're doing over there."
And so, for the most part it went, from Larry Fitzsimmons, at 53, the youngest, to Fred Cassar, at 83, the oldest. Mr. Cassar served in a heavy artillery unit during World War II and remembers it as both frightening and exciting. "I enjoyed being in the Army," he said. "You saw things you would not have seen, and I'm sure that's true now." But he, too, shuddered at the thought of service now in a perilous war whose rationale eludes him. "I will always support the troops that are there, but if my son wanted to join, I'd discourage him. I feel sorry for the guys that are over there. A lot of them are there because they have nothing to look forward to here, and they think the Army can give them a better life."
THERE were exceptions. Edward Silvester, visiting from Post 390 in Hempstead, said military benefits put him through college and helped him buy a house when he was young, so he might join, if he figured he could avoid Iraq. The only real hawk was Carl Austin, 58, the bartender, who said he did two Air Force tours of Vietnam and believed the war could transform the Middle East, which engendered much hooting back and forth.
Mostly there was the sense of too much risk for too vague a cause.
"You're in a place where you don't know who is your friend and who's your enemy, where someone can walk up to you like he's your friend and then blow both of you up," said Artie Delury, 62, who served during Vietnam. "How can you fight a guerrilla war like that?
Conflicted in a different way was Robert Patterson, an immigrant from Ireland celebrating his 60th birthday, who was sent to Korea during the Vietnam War before he even became a citizen. He could not see enlisting to go to Iraq. "This country has been so good to me," he said. "It's not my role to criticize, but I go back to the old country, and they used to love America, and they're now all anti-American. It hurts me very much."
Still, this is a weekend more about the past than the present. And they probably steer away from politics for good reason. So on Monday, most of them will march in the local Memorial Day parade. Some spent yesterday placing flags on graves at military cemeteries and others will place wreaths on monuments to the war dead. At the parade, Mr. Patterson will play his bagpipes, either "Amazing Grace" or "God Bless America."
And the men of Post 1711 will offer prayers of thanks and remembrance for the old warriors who sacrificed in the past and prayers of thanks and hope for the young ones sacrificing today in another war in another time in another place.
