The Occasional Observer

It's hard to find the words to explain the gratitude I feel towards Cpl. Frank Buckles, the last of the Doughboys. At the same time, there is a sense of loss at the passing of his generation. It makes me think of what we've already lost, and what we will lose in the future. I'll likely be in my upper 50's when the last remaining WWII vets are passing from the scene.

I've never known a WWI vet, but their contributions have been implanted into the consciousness of our culture. Their wisdom, their experience, and the witness of their lives have been powerful influences. These are men who, by their very being, remind us of the horrors that result when world powers commit to total war. And of what happens when abstract constructs like ideology and nationality (not bad things when placed to the proper use), are prioritized above more intrinsic "goods": virtue, family, and community.

I like to think that these doughboys grew up in a simpler time, when love of country was considered natural, not naive. When belief in God was considered rational, not medicinal. And when duty to family and neighbor was expected, not outdated.

I'm sure there are plenty of liberals who would love to disabuse me of my idealism.

The courage of Frank Buckley and his brothers does otherwise.