The Heroes In A Veteran's Story

One hundred four years ago today, the treaty to end "the war to end all wars" was signed.  For years after that, this day was known as Armistice Day.  Then it came to be Remembrance Day, as it's observed in much of the world.  But here in the US, it's Veterans' Day.

Now, I have nothing against a day to commemorate veterans.  This might sound counter-intuitive, but as I've become more anti-war,  I have become more pro-veteran.  Whether or not the cause was right--which, in recent wars, means whether or not the war was based on any sort of fact or truth--no veteran should ever want--especially if that veteran was disabled in any way as a result of serving in the armed forces.

Forty-four years ago, Kevin Hebert was 19 years old and in the Air Force.  The latter would change when he suffered a broken neck, which left him paralyzed from the neck down.

Eventually, he learned to walk with leg braces.  Then he took on another challenge:  riding a bike again. 

Perhaps not surprisingly (though it may have been a disappointment to him), the Wilmington, North Carolina resident wasn't going to ride a bike like mine or, probably, yours.  Yes, it's propelled only by his feet spinning pedals.  And, at first glance, it looks like a recumbent; it differs in that it has three wheels.  But its most distinguishing trait might be the grip bars that allow him to get into or out of the seat by himself.  He was adamant about having that feature which, he says, "is independence for me."

Well, if in the immortal words of Tom Cuthbertson, stealing a bike is one of the lowest things one human can do to another, stealing a bike (or anything) from a disabled veteran drops someone a rung lower in Dante's Hell. You can tell that Hebert, even after what he's been through, isn't a cynical New Yorker like me:  He assumed that someone "borrowed" the bike.

His faith in humanity may have been well-placed after all:  Someone spotted the bike, returned it--and refused the reward Hebert offered. Oh, and the cops found the perp who took his bike.

Kevin Hebert isn't being immodest when he says he's "accomplished a lot."  That's why I am happy that he got his bike back, not only because it's his bike, but for what it's allowed him, as a disabled veteran to accomplish.  I don't know him, but I suspect he, being the veteran he is, would say that he's not the, or even a, hero in this story.

By the way, today is the 100th birthday of the author who wrote one of the best novels about a soldier's experience in World War II--and of PTSD, although nobody was calling it that when the book was published.   I'm referring, of course, to one of the first writers I fell in love with (as a writer, that is): Kurt Vonnegut, whose Slaughterhouse Five was published in 1969.

100 Years After War Didn't End

The other day, I commemorated the 80th anniversary of Kristallnacht:  the night when anti-Semitism descended from harassment to violence and, ultimately, to death.  It was also the night of the first mass deportations of Jews to the Nazi death camps.

Today is the centennial of the event that was supposed to prevent the war into which the world descended not long after Kristallnacht.  (Some would argue that the war was already underway; I wouldn't disagree.) 

I am talking, of course, about the Armistice. As we all heard in school, "on the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month" in 1918, the Armistice--which was supposed to end hostilities, not only between the Allies and the Central Powers, but throughout the world--was signed.

Would it have worked if the United States had agreed to join a worldwide organization--one whose founders included the American President, no less--created for the purpose of fostering cooperation? 

We will never know.  I could not, however, help but to note the irony of this photo:



It's the 1940 Armistice Day parade in Yakima, Washington.  At that very moment, Europe was at war again:  During the fourteen months that preceded the scene in the photo, Germany had invaded Poland, Denmark, Norway, Belgium, the Netherlands, Luxembourg, France, Yugoslavia and Greece.  Less than thirteen months after that photo was taken, the US would also be drawn into that war.

Nobody has ever celebrated an "Armistice" to end World War II, or any war since then.

And, in the US, this day has been turned into "Veterans' Day" --a holiday I wholeheartedly endorse, as much as I abhor war-- which will be commemorated tomorrow.

(About Veterans' Day:  As much as I'm in favor of this holiday, I wish its emphasis was on the ones who gave their limbs, senses, bodies and even lives, rather than on the glorification of their "victories."  I also would favor calling it "Remembrance Day," as it's known in Canada and the UK.)

If You Really Want To Ride In Belgium...

This day is called Veterans' Day in the US.  As I have said in other posts, as much as I want to end war and not to glorify it, I think veterans should be honored.  To my mind, that means they should never want for anything.  It's a disgrace that some are sleeping under highway overpasses.

This day was formerly known as Armistice Day.  As I understand, it still is in much of Europe.  Ninety-nine years ago today, the agreement was signed to "end" the "war to end all wars".

Then, as now, recruiters used cleverly deceptive and deceptively clever appeals such as this:

to get young men to sign up for this:

Ted Henderson, a Canadian soldier in the First Division Cycle Corps, would remember his steed thusly:

Ode to a Pedal Pusher

We often recall the old C.C.M.
The first old steed we rode
Withits coaster brake and streamlined frame
And one rear rack for our load.

(Images from Canadian Cycling)