The ranks of the greatest generation grow thinner by the day, as I was reminded last week while attending the funeral for my uncle, Albert L. Servant, who served in the European Theater during World War II.
Albert was one of seven siblings from my hometown of Southbridge, Massachusetts, who were in the U.S. Army during the war. That's right: seven! One of them, Roland A. Servant, was killed in action on Feb. 23, 1944, on Anzio Beach in Italy. Two years ago, Southbridge named a local intersection Servant Square in honor of this literal band of brothers.
The church service for my 90-year-old uncle was moving, but as the son of a World War II veteran, I found the graveside service especially poignant. After a bugler played Taps beneath a cloudless sky on a gloriously sunny October day, the two-man honor guard removed the American flag from the casket and folded it with military precision: twice on the length, followed by 13 triangular folds.
Tom Brokaw, the author of The Greatest Generation, has described the youthful accomplishments of men like my uncle, my father and their peers this way :
“This flag is presented on behalf of a grateful nation and the United States Army, as a token of appreciation for your loved one's honorable and faithful service.”
Albert was one of seven siblings from my hometown of Southbridge, Massachusetts, who were in the U.S. Army during the war. That's right: seven! One of them, Roland A. Servant, was killed in action on Feb. 23, 1944, on Anzio Beach in Italy. Two years ago, Southbridge named a local intersection Servant Square in honor of this literal band of brothers.
The church service for my 90-year-old uncle was moving, but as the son of a World War II veteran, I found the graveside service especially poignant. After a bugler played Taps beneath a cloudless sky on a gloriously sunny October day, the two-man honor guard removed the American flag from the casket and folded it with military precision: twice on the length, followed by 13 triangular folds.
Tom Brokaw, the author of The Greatest Generation, has described the youthful accomplishments of men like my uncle, my father and their peers this way :
They answered the call to save the world from the two most powerful and ruthless military machines ever assembled, instruments of conquest in the hands of fascist maniacs. They faced great odds and a late start, but they did not protest. They succeeded on every front. They won the war; they saved the world.At the funeral, my good-natured, sports-loving, unassuming uncle - the last of those seven brothers - personified Brokaw’s words, at least in my mind. That seemed especially true when a white-gloved soldier gave the carefully folded flag to my cousin George, the son of Albert and my late aunt Alice, with these words, recited softly but with great clarity:
“This flag is presented on behalf of a grateful nation and the United States Army, as a token of appreciation for your loved one's honorable and faithful service.”
