A Veteran's Take

The bumper stickers on the car in front of mine in the Shop Rite parking lot stoked an uneasy feeling that no amount of broccoli, lemons, and pistachio ice cream could assuage. A drooping American flag was affixed to the car’s roof above a collage of angry messages: “Bidenflation – the price of your vote,” “Go Brandon,” and “Dumb and Dumber” next to pictures of the President and Vice President. There was no way the puny flag atop the car could put a patriotic spin on that vitriol. As the Republican party moves closer to crowning a candidate with authoritarian designs, I can almost hear Colombo’s shocked intake of breath.  

As a sophomore at Joel Barlow High School in the fall of 2000, our daughter’s history assignment was to interview a veteran and invite him or her to a breakfast panel at school later in the year. Very few students were able to find World War II vets to interview; even then, there weren’t many left. Casey was fortunate her grandfather, Colombo, was alive and eager to tell his stories.   

In the war against Fascism under dictators Hitler, Mussolini, and Hirohito, Colombo had been aboard a B-24 Liberator that bombed the Brenner Pass through the Alps between Italy and Austria. When Dave and I backpacked through Europe in the ‘70’s, Colombo directed us, “Check out the pass; I expect it’s still smoldering.” But, beyond that, his war stories had been tucked away - linen-wrapped in the bundle of letters in his sister’s closet, packed with his flight jacket and mementos in storage. 

            

As a first generation Italian born of immigrant parents who’d arrived only two decades before, Colombo and his three siblings were staunchly American. They wanted little to do with the country their parents had left behind, although Nanny’s homemade pasta and fresh garden vegetables always lured them home for meals. Like so many young men of the time, the three boys responded to the Nazi threat and enlisted as soon as they were old enough: Phil shipped out to the Pacific, Jack to North Africa, and Colombo to Italy.What must the crawl of days and nights have been like for the parents, worrying about all three of their sons?  

 

When Casey and Colombo settled into wicker chairs on the porch in Rhode Island for the interview, the soothing calls of gulls on salt-scented air were a far cry from the echoes of war. Yet, those years reeled closer as Colombo sifted through memories, and his granddaughter jotted notes.

 

With practised precision, Colombo recited his rank, base, duties and missions: “Army Aircorp Staff Sargeant, Cheringnol, Italy.” He recalled an ill-fated flight from Bangor, Maine to the continent, with Louie Prima, barely audible over the plane’s rumble, crooning “That Old Black Magic” on the radio. Engine troubles plagued the journey, necessitating layovers in Iceland and England. Snorting in disgust, Colombo shook his head, “That plane was a brand new B-24 Liberator. Turned out it was a lemon, scrapped once we reached Italy. Never even saw duty.”

  

And in 1945, he was with the crew that flew into Rome with the “Stars and Stripes” newspaper staff that covered Mussolini’s death and the fury of the mob that strung him up. 

 

In December of 2000, Colombo came to Easton to participate in the veterans panel at Barlow. Of those WW II vets attending, Colombo was the hardy exception: strong, healthy, and in great spirits. Beyond sharing his experiences, he brought a satchel of fishing line, morphine and a reflecting mirror: the emergency survival kit he’d been issued for use had that lemon of a Liberator gone down.  

            

On the morning of the panel discussion, Colombo left an inscription in our guest book:  “12/7/2000 – Pearl Harbor Day – How well I remember it! I was sixteen years old and had just finished a sand-lot football game in the snow at Lake Park, Worcester. We won the Park’s league. Little did I know that two years later I’d be in the Air Corps, finishing off the Nazis in May of 1945. On this day, my granddaughter and her class of the year 2000 will be commemorating the fifty-ninth year of Pearl Harbor. I am happy to share this day with her and her classmates.”  

 

So much has changed since that day. 

 

What would those who fought Fascism in the ‘40’s have thought of the bumper sticker bile on that car in the parking lot in 2024? Of the American flag wielded as a weapon in an assault on the Capitol to prevent the peaceful transfer of power? Of the virulence that divides America, and the forces that support an aspiring authoritarian?     

                                                

While interviewing Colombo, Casey had asked what he fought for. His response was immediate, “For the freedom of the United States and all the countries involved.” 

 

To her final question, “What message would you pass on to the people of today?” Colombo said, “Have respect for the soldiers and servicemen, and respect for the American flag.”

Colombo, center

 

 

 

Pummeled

Waves of fury and incredulity pummel my mental shores. Naïve as I am, despite the pundits’ prediction that Senate Republicans would vote to acquit Trump, I believed that dedication to democracy, oaths of office, oaths of impartiality, and love of country would win out over party politics in the face of evidence and the terror of personal experience.  

But no.  

 

Buffeted by cross currents, America has been twisted and tortured like its flag in an insurrectionist’s grip.  Abused were the stars and stripes on January 6 as they were wielded as a weapon to bludgeon police.  Those who derided Black Lives Matter protesters this summer with calls to “Back the Blue” swarmed the Capitol howling “Stop the Steal” as they brandished the American flag along with their arsenal of bats, fence posts, and pitchforks to bloody those defending the Capitol.

 

When I was a child, I was told to kiss the flag 100 times if it touched the ground by mistake. Was this my parents’ invention or a national rule? I don’t know, but the message was clear. Dave’s father too, a WW II veteran, taught his grandchildren the solemn lesson “Honor the soldiers and the flag.” 

 

Although they sought to appropriate the motives of America’s revolutionaries, the Trump supporters who breached the Capitol can lay no claim to heroism. They desecrated American symbols while impeding certification of an adjudicated election, endangered lawmakers, spread feces, and destroyed and stole national treasures. Thugs were these, not patriots. The fever of doing Trump’s bidding superseded respect for the flag, democratic process, and human life.      

 

What to make of Mitch McConnell? He refused to call the Senate to session when the House Managers were ready to present the case in mid-January.  There was time for a trial, and the former president was still in office. Mitch had not the balls to vote “guilty,” but had the gall after the count to affirm the House Managers’ evidence of Trump as inciter-in-chief.  Although the Senate had already addressed the constitutionality by a majority vote, McConnell defended himself with the timing technicality he created.  

 

In his closing remarks, lead House manager Jamie Raskin looked around the Senate chamber at those before him and quoted Benjamin Franklin, saying, “If you make yourself a sheep, the wolves will eat you. Don’t make yourself a sheep.” How else but as sheep are we to see Senators who believed Trump guilty, yet in their fawning loyalty, absolved him of accountability at the expense of our democracy? 

 

What now?  In betraying their oaths and ignoring the result of the vote on the impeachment’s constitutionality, those senators eviscerated the Senate of its credibility and power.  They did not “defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic” when Trump and his mob sought to hold power despite the vote of the people. They waived their sworn charge, and clung to a technicality already dismissed by majority vote.  

 

By that acquittal, the Senate has granted future presidents a “January Exception” for whatever purposes he or she might have in that final month in office; Congress and the Republic be damned. After his final summation of the evidence of Trump’s efforts to prevent the transfer of power, delight at the attack, and refusal to send help, Representative Raskin said, “If that’s not a high crime and misdemeanor, then nothing is.”  

 

It is work to contain my fury and contempt, but friends remind me of reasons for optimism.  President Biden has remained focused on the people and the planet. Vaccinations have doubled. A COVID relief bill will soon pass. The U.S. has re-entered the global community in positive ways, re-joining the Paris Climate Accord and the WHO.  In discrediting their vote and abdicating their responsibility, the Senate has re-affirmed what has always been true: it is up to us, the people, to govern wisely with our votes. 

 

The Flag: for Country or Self?

As many did, after the 9/11 attacks, Dave and I hung an American flag on our front door. We were proud and emotional in this show of solidarity and love of country. It was particularly meaningful as the flag had belonged to Anthony Sylvestro, Dave’s father, a WW II veteran who’d been a radio operator on a B-24 Liberator.  All three Sylvestro brothers served during the war, in Italy, the Pacific, and North Africa, and it is extraordinary to imagine the sacrifice of their parents, recent Italian immigrants, as their boys put their lives at risk for their new homeland.  

Through our forefathers, Dave and I represent the melding of people who have sought and fought for America’s promise of equality, justice, freedom, and opportunity. My ancestors arrived centuries ago and my grandfather fought in WW I. Dave’s father and uncles fought to uphold American ideals and stop the spread of Nazism. While America has never lived up to the ideals professed in our Declaration of Independence and on the Statue of Liberty’s pedestal, in a mystical way, our flag has been a symbol of the country’s aspirations to those ideals.

Now the flag that liberated concentration camps and gave hope to refugees fleeing oppression is brandished by those decrying the trampling of their freedoms when asked to wear a mask to protect themselves, their loved ones, and those around them. 

If the veterans who saved us from Nazi rule were not dying of Covid, would they proclaim that yes, this particular freedom was what they fought for, given the resulting increased deaths of Americans? Given that this choice could lead to disease and a ventilator?  Given that exercising this right could consign unwitting passers-by to the same? What has become of those “who more than self their country loved, and mercy more than life”(1.)? How can people who demonstrate so little care for others’ well-being wave the flag and claim personal liberty as justification? How can the president and those who support him take issue with so small a “sacrifice” as wearing a mask when it might save their countrymen a terrible death? 

The freedom represented by the flag is not so trivial as license to do whatever you want. Freedom is a privilege and comes with responsibility to the greater good.  November will prove our Declaration’s current status: Who are we now, America? 

*1. From “America the Beautiful” by Katharine Lee Bates