Remembering a Dead Friend Sixty Plus Years Later

The formal entrance gates to the American Cemetery in Luxembourg

       In honor of Memorial Day, Chuck asked that I tell you his favorite story that says so much about why we should take a moment on Memorial Day to remember.

Several years ago, the rascal cat and I were traveling in Luxembourg when we met this elderly gentleman and his wife.  He’d fought in World War II and had decided, now --before it was too late because he was in his eighties and life was slipping by fast -- to pay tribute to a fellow soldier who’d fought beside him in the Battle of the Bulge.  This soldier, who was his driver, hadn’t been as lucky as he was and hadn’t made it back alive. He was buried in the American cemetery in Luxembourg, which was established in 1944 as a final resting place for Americans killed in action.  The families of soldiers have a choice.  Their loved ones can be shipped home or they can be buried in the closest American cemetery located in neutral territory.   

When we arrived at the cemetery, and when you step foot in any of the American cemeteries on foreign soil, you gasp.  They are always beautifully kept up, massive in scope.  The rows and rows of crosses made of Italian marble take your breath away.  The knowledge that so many brave and courageous men and women fought and gave their lives to preserve our way of life hit you  hard when you are far away from your home.  These men and women left their home, never to return.  General Patton is buried here.

View of the rows of crosses--the stars represent the Jewish soldiers.

General George S. Patton made a special request to be buried at the American Cemetery with the soldiers he fought with when he died, and his wife honored his request.

The guide who showed us around the cemetery was a man who remembered the day the Americans freed Luxembourg from the German occupation.  He stood on the side of the road as the American soldiers marched into his town. He’ll never forget that day, and even though he was a boy then, he still felt a sense of gratitude toward the United States of America.

Rene, our guide, at the cemetery

Now in his seventies, he volunteers at the cemetery.  He enjoys saying thank you to the Americans who come to visit the cemetery.  

As to the elderly gentleman, he found his friend, William C. McGee, a Medal of Honor recipient, who died on March 19, 1945.  He stood near his gravesite and saluted.  It was a wonderful tribute to his friend.  

The American soldier who returned sixty years later to pay tribute to his friend

The gravesite of William McGee, Medal of Honor recipient

Chuck and I were amazed that he remembered him so many years later. The bonds that grow between those that fight for freedom. 

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Chuck Salutes the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier

         Chuck, the rascal cat, did not grow up wanting to be a soldier cat.
      He does not know that much about history.
      But every night when we’re home, he plasters himself on the rug in front of the television and watches the news.
      He knows about Arlington National Cemetery and the eternal flame that burns for President John F. Kennedy.  
      I shouldn’t have been surprised when one day he pointed with his paw to an article about the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier.  
     That is how Chuckie usually communicates with us.
     He wanted to see the ceremony. 
     And with Armed Forces Day coming up, and Memorial Day just around the corner, I thought what better way to honor our soldiers and pay tribute, than to visit this special place.
    From our hotel in Washington, D.C., we took the subway and then walked the rest of the way to Arlington National Cemetery.   At the cemetery we purchased a ticket for the shuttle bus service that rides you around to all the key sights, otherwise it would take hours to walk from sight to sight. 
    On our way to the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, I told Chuck that other countries in the world have their own Tomb of the Unknown Soldier  as a way to honor all the soldiers who fight in battle and yet cannot be identified when the war is over.  In fact, it’s key to the concept of this monument that the body buried within the tomb be unidentifiable so that the tomb can maintain its symbolic meaning.  
    The soldier buried in the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier is there to represent all the soldiers who fought and were never found after the war was over.  
    “Did you get that, Chuck?”
    I can never be sure, but he tilted his head in his usual Chuck fashion and we moved closer to the area where the soldiers go through the ceremony.  
    There is always a crowd.
    On the day we were there, a small group of high school students presented the uniformed soldiers with a wreath to be laid on the tomb.  Approximately eighty tourists stood in respectful silence, watching, as the soldiers followed a very precise pattern of marching back and forth in front of the tomb.  It was both elegant and precise.   
    My usually antsy Chuck went perfectly still as he peeked out of my smart bag.  He watched the soldiers perform their set maneuvers.  The entire ceremony lasted only a few minutes, but it was filled with emotion.  
    Maybe, as you stand there in the cemetery, surrounded by thousands of gravestones, the reality gets to you.
    Each gravestone represents a wounded warrior.  
    A man and woman who gave his or her life selflessly for their country.  
    For our country.   
    To maintain our way of life.  
    For us. 
    When the ceremony was over, I showed Chuck how to salute the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. 
    “It is a sign of respect,” I said.
    Although Chuck usually hates to be told what to do, he didn’t fight me this time.  
    The rascal cat saluted the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier.    


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