Thursday, October 8, 2015

Shifting colors

 I read a short article about a class reunion. There were just two left able to travel to this event. It was the class of 1940 from the U S Naval Academy. It was their 75th such reunion. It will be their last. The old Captain says he will not make it next year. He is suffering from cancer and the outlook isn't so great. These two old warriors, side by side, once again walking the grounds of Annapolis, living history. Both fought the Nazis' and the Japanese. Both lost many classmates and shipmates in that conflict. Both have survived. As I read that article I couldn't help but be moved. To walk, with that knowledge, and all those memories for what you know will be the last time, I just can't imagine. These two sailors, gentlemen and officers surely walk with pride and honor. Members of the greatest generation.
 In the article it says that we are losing our veterans of WW2 at a rate of about 500 a day. By 2036 it is predicted the last will have left us. Old wars and old sailors. I wonder what these two men must think of the way it all turned out. I say that because, for them, the end is truly close now. They both are keenly aware of that and surely the last reunion serves as a poignant reminder. Was it worth the fight ? That is what I would ask them, given the chance. In my experience warriors of that generation seldom speak of battle. They made the sacrifice due to necessity. A sense of duty, honor and service to their country was their motivation. It is what was expected of them and they answered.
 In 1936 when they entered the academy they probably wasn't thinking of war. The first world war, the war to end all wars, had ended just 18 years prior to that. Sure they were aware of Hitler and the Nazi party, but concerned, probably not. I'm sure as they progressed through the academy and the threat grew it was discussed. With the bombing of Pearl Harbor their course was set. Pun intended. The article mentioned how many were lost from that class at Pearl and during the subsequent battles. These men witnessed the loss of classmates, suddenly, violently and without compassion. And to now walk those halls so filled with tradition one more time, the last time, indeed the last voyage. My words are inadequate to express the sorrow and pride I feel. Seventy five years of reunions. Longer than I have been alive. It is time. And there is only one thing left to say to these two men. I stand at attention and render a hand salute to each. I wish for them " fair winds and a following sea. "
 For just seven months after graduation they knew peace. Then four years of bitter battle followed. Young men when it began, they aged quickly. Now, these two are all that remain able to make the voyage. Other classmates are still with us, but moored to their homes, unable to sail again. And now these two have heard for the last time, " underway, shift colors " that old familiar command. It is that phrase you hear each time the ship lifts anchor or loses her moorings. It signals the beginning of the voyage. The " colors " or flag for you landlubbers is lowered from the fantail and raised upon the mast. It is symbolic, a nod to the days of sail. The ensign, as it is called, is not lowered again until moored. Shifting colors it is called. It means a transition. Soon these two old sailors and shipmates will " shift colors " and embark again. Anchors aweigh my boys, anchors aweigh.

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