Stars in the Window
As I read this to a friend and my grandson this evening I found myself crying. Though I wrote it some years back it has new meaning now with one of my grandsons heading to Baghdad.
Even though we were young at the time we were aware of the rumblings in Europe. The idea of war was really not new to us because there was an American Legion post in town and many of our fathers had served in the “big war”. We had heard the stories and seen the uniforms at the Memorial Day parade and we knew that bad things were going on in our world.
The realizations of Pearl Harbor and FDR’s declaration certainly had their impact but it was the stars in the windows that brought the idea of war home most clearly. Somewhere, somehow, someone got the idea that each home that had sent a serviceman off to fight should display a star in the window as a badge of honor. The term we use here “serviceman” is not to suggest that only men went off to war as women certainly served in all the uniformed services. But this was long before we had raised our consciousness to recognize that such terms were sexist in nature.
Stars began to appear in windows all over town, displayed proudly for all to see. These were small single blue stars placed on a white background about 6 by 8 inches in size. There were many homes in which several stars showed the world that brothers or father and sons had gone to serve their country.
This we understood and could deal with, sharing the pride of living in such a great country. But it was when the stars began to change colors that the enormity of war began to have its impact on our minds. Like the changing colors of the fall foliage, a few of these honorable symbols had turned to gold. We all knew quite well that this meant that the neighbor, the family friend, the exfootball star, the cousin, the town character, the HERO that lived in that house had died while serving his nation.
It is never easy to find the right thing to say to someone who has lost a loved one, but in those times it was even more difficult. These were young men, often really only boys, who were just coming into the prime of their lives. Many had gone to war directly from high school, having never had the chance to learn who or what they might become. Some were recently married and had only begun to share their life with a mate, and still others were fathers who would never have an opportunity to really know or enjoy their children.
For us the reality of war struck at a scout meeting. We all knew and admired him as he had recently begun to work with out troop and was certainly willing to share himself with us. Although he was married, he had no children and was well past twenty-one, which placed him high on the list at the draft board. His notice was soon in the mailslot and almost overnight he was gone, off to war. Meetings were not the same without him but we had learned that there would be many changes and we would have to adjust. The night we were told that Everett Kent had been killed in battle we learned some real truths about that war. It wasn’t always to be someone else, someone whose name you knew, someone who lived over on the other street that was going to die before this war was over. It was going to be real folks just like our brothers or even us who would be called upon to make the ultimate sacrifice. No longer could we think of this war as being somewhere “over there” for now it was here, clearly evident in the falling tears and golden stars.
Even though we were young at the time we were aware of the rumblings in Europe. The idea of war was really not new to us because there was an American Legion post in town and many of our fathers had served in the “big war”. We had heard the stories and seen the uniforms at the Memorial Day parade and we knew that bad things were going on in our world.
The realizations of Pearl Harbor and FDR’s declaration certainly had their impact but it was the stars in the windows that brought the idea of war home most clearly. Somewhere, somehow, someone got the idea that each home that had sent a serviceman off to fight should display a star in the window as a badge of honor. The term we use here “serviceman” is not to suggest that only men went off to war as women certainly served in all the uniformed services. But this was long before we had raised our consciousness to recognize that such terms were sexist in nature.
Stars began to appear in windows all over town, displayed proudly for all to see. These were small single blue stars placed on a white background about 6 by 8 inches in size. There were many homes in which several stars showed the world that brothers or father and sons had gone to serve their country.
This we understood and could deal with, sharing the pride of living in such a great country. But it was when the stars began to change colors that the enormity of war began to have its impact on our minds. Like the changing colors of the fall foliage, a few of these honorable symbols had turned to gold. We all knew quite well that this meant that the neighbor, the family friend, the exfootball star, the cousin, the town character, the HERO that lived in that house had died while serving his nation.
It is never easy to find the right thing to say to someone who has lost a loved one, but in those times it was even more difficult. These were young men, often really only boys, who were just coming into the prime of their lives. Many had gone to war directly from high school, having never had the chance to learn who or what they might become. Some were recently married and had only begun to share their life with a mate, and still others were fathers who would never have an opportunity to really know or enjoy their children.
For us the reality of war struck at a scout meeting. We all knew and admired him as he had recently begun to work with out troop and was certainly willing to share himself with us. Although he was married, he had no children and was well past twenty-one, which placed him high on the list at the draft board. His notice was soon in the mailslot and almost overnight he was gone, off to war. Meetings were not the same without him but we had learned that there would be many changes and we would have to adjust. The night we were told that Everett Kent had been killed in battle we learned some real truths about that war. It wasn’t always to be someone else, someone whose name you knew, someone who lived over on the other street that was going to die before this war was over. It was going to be real folks just like our brothers or even us who would be called upon to make the ultimate sacrifice. No longer could we think of this war as being somewhere “over there” for now it was here, clearly evident in the falling tears and golden stars.
posted by Bruce May at 12:08 AM
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