Local WWII veterans honored at home, afar

Will Rogers said: "We can't all be heroes. Some of us have to stand on the curb and clap as they go by."

On Saturday, 98 World War II veterans from the Lowcountry took a flight to Washington, D.C., and because of their sacrifices, it didn't cost them a dime. There were people clapping for them all along the way.

Their ages: 83 to 95.

The vets wore yellow shirts identifying them as members of Honor Flight Lowcountry. The sleeves identified them as "Hometown Heroes," but these guys have never really worn their feelings there.

They told jokes, a few war stories and flirted with the flight attendants. It's the third Honor Flight to come out of the Lowcountry since November 2009 -- and this was the largest. As I settled in for takeoff, I looked around the U.S. Airways cabin and realized there was a story in every seat.

World War II was the defining moment of the 20th century. Some of these guys marched through Germany, jumped out of planes in France and sloshed around in "tin cans" in the Pacific.

Some were in prison camps. You know as well as I do there's some unwritten code that says they very seldom talk about "it."

Two doctors were aboard, along with volunteers and guardians.

Bubba Kennedy, chairman of Honor Flight Lowcountry, said no task is too great or too small for the volunteers. "They just roll up their sleeves and do whatever's asked."

As the plane descended at Reagan International, the laughter and conversations subsided. Waiting at the gate were other passengers and comrades who wanted to say "thank you."

As they walked into the terminal, a brass quintet started playing patriotic music. Boy Scouts and young children started shaking hands with people who looked like their great-grandfathers. Summerville Mayor Berlin G. Myers, now 93, told me: "I got more hugs today than I've got in my lifetime."

After we loaded the buses, it was off to the World War II Memorial. Lyle Holman, 84, from Cottageville, said he usually stays up until midnight playing poker on his computer, but "last night, I went to bed at 7 so I could get up at 3." Charles Bumgarner, 83, from Edisto was also excited. "I'm not sure who thought of this -- but I'm sure thankful."

Once at the memorial, the group of veterans had a little more than an hour to look around. It's an impressive site, with the Washington Monument to the left and the Lincoln Memorial to the right. Benjamin Dover, 86, from Johns Island, saw Gen. Colin Powell in the crowd and worked his wheelchair right to Powell's heels for an introduction.

Powell thanked Dover for his service, and Dover replied, "Sir, it's an honor to meet you."

Stops along the way included the Korean War Veterans Memorial, the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Wall, the Lincoln Memorial, the Marine Corps War Memorial and, finally, the Franklin Delano Roosevelt Memorial.

The quietest moment: riding through Arlington National Cemetery. The veterans grew silent as the rows and rows and rows of white crosses reflected through the bus windows.

It didn't take long before the moods picked back up.

Harry Grimball, Jr., 90, was shot down twice over France. He told me he came back to the states on a hospital ship. When asked if he was having a good time, he replied, "Hell yes!"

Red Wood, 88, of Sullivan's Island, was a little more eloquent. "This is the best day I've had in a long, long time."

On the ride home, there wasn't quite as much conversation -- still a little laughter, but most of the guys nodded off.

Little did they realize what was in store. The reception at Charleston International Airport was even more amazing than their experience some 12 hours earlier. On the tarmac, two Charleston Fire Department tankers offered an appreciation shower. Inside, backed by a bagpiper, Citadel cadets created a canopy of swords.

Active and retired military were at full attention and hundreds of people formed a welcoming committee while fighting back large lumps in their throats. No generation of Americans ever faced a tougher job than these did.

It was a long day, but a rewarding one.

Will Rogers was right: We can't all be heroes. Some of us have to stand on the curb and clap. There's just one problem with that.

It's tough to clap, salute and wipe your eyes all at the same time.