Saying Goodbye to The Greatest Generation
It's not enough to visit Arlington National Cemetery. Attending a military funeral is a must, especially for a departed love one from The Greatest Generation
General James Van Fleet, a World War II and Korean War veteran, is credited with coining the term “Greatest Generation.” The Greatest Generation was born between 1901 and 1928. They were followed by my parents’ “Silent Generation,” which gave birth to us Baby Boomers.
It’s not hard to figure out what made those born after the turn of the last century so great. They were born during the “Jim Crow” era, a period of racial segregation and discrimination in the United States, and not long after the birth of the Industrial Revolution, a time of significant technological advancements and societal changes. They came of age during the First World War and began their careers as the Great Depression fell upon the country. A dozen years later, they lived to see Japan bomb Pearl Harbor and proceeded to save the world from the Axis powers of Germany, Italy, and Japan.
And there are very few of them left. Their generation produced some of our finest Presidents, including PT-109 Lt. John F. Kennedy and fellow Lts. Ronald Reagan and George H. W. Bush. The latter flew the TBF Avenger torpedo bomber for the Navy as a 19-year-old when he was shot down, losing two crew members in the process. It almost gave us another President in Lt. Bob Dole, who was severely wounded on April 14, 1945, on “Hill 913” in Italy’s Apennine Mountains. Dole’s injury occurred just three weeks before Germany surrendered on May 7, 1945.
More about that date, hill, and mountain in a moment.
This generation is almost gone. Less than 119,000 remain alive today, and the number shrinks by about 113 daily. Each departure from this terrestrial plane includes stories and history we should learn, honor, remember, and pass on.
I can’t remember the first time I visited Arlington National Cemetery. It was probably my first visit to Washington as a 17-year-old Civil Air Patrol cadet on my way to Canada in 1974 for an International Air Cadet Exchange trip. But I have visited many times since moving to the national capital region almost 43 years ago.
After moving back to DC three years ago, my wife and I chose to walk the Cemetery’s roads and hills on a beautiful Spring morning. A visit inspires and instills reverence and respect in the sacrifices almost every tombstone represents. It is humbling for someone like me who never served in the Armed Forces. I cannot help but feel a tinge of regret for not serving, but I’m always grateful, even reverential, to those who have.
But visiting Arlington National Cemetery isn’t enough. Attending a military funeral is an experience like no other. I’ve seen horse-drawn caissons followed by funeral attendees leaving the chapel at Fort Myer for the final resting place of a loved one. But, attending a burial ceremony, especially for someone I knew, which I did last Friday, was new and special.
Col. Ray J. Garcia (USAF, Ret.) passed away ten days after his 99th birthday late last year, shortly followed by his bride of 78 years, Gloria Cavazos Garcia. Gloria was my wife’s aunt. Col. Garcia served in the US Air Force for 26 years, flying 82 missions in P-47 and P-51 fighter-bomber planes in Europe late in World War II, most over Italy. He would later fly first-generation fighter jets, including the F-86 Sabre, during the tense early days of the Cold War.
Col. Garcia was a true rags-to-riches story like so many in his generation. His life experience, as chronicled in a yet-finished-and-unpublished memoir, taught me that “white privilege” really existed when he was growing up. As his mother was enrolling him in elementary school, noting his Hispanic name, he was initially told to report to the shacks behind the school where the Mexican children were taught. His mother, on the spot, fought and anglicized his name from Reynoldo Jose Garcia to Ray Joseph Garcia. His newfound “white privilege” won him a spot in the school for Anglo children.
That would not be the end of his brushes with discrimination. Fortunately, those days are mostly history, but they are worth remembering, learning from, and ensuring they are not repeated.
Col. Garcia—“Uncle Ray,” as we called him—developed a penchant for mathematics and science. He was inspired by one particular teacher who spotted his talent and skills despite others telling him he would need to learn a trade. During his senior year of high school, he worked full-time repairing military aircraft, finishing school at night. He also became a high school tennis champion.
A couple of years after World War II broke out in 1942, at age 18, he noticed a flyer that the Army Air Corps needed pilots. He saw his chance and took it. Two years later, he flew single-engine fighter planes in combat, facing German anti-aircraft guns and fire over Europe towards the end of World War II. No college degree or education at the time was required. That would come much later.
This is a favorite story. On June 8, 1995, at a reception following my swearing-in as Secretary of the Senate, I introduced Col. Garcia to Senator Dole in the Capitol’s LBJ Room. I mentioned that Garcia flew cover for Dole’s 10th Mountain Division in the Appenine Mountains of Italy. The looks they gave each other were priceless, as only two World War II combat veterans could share. Neither knew each other, had never met, and were unaware of the connection.
It was more true than I knew at the time.
Col. Garcia later discovered that his 64th Fighter Squadron of P-47s - “Jugs,” as the durable plane was called - dive-bombed and destroyed several farmhouses amidst heavy anti-artillery fire where Germans had entrenched themselves near the top of “Hill 913” on the day, April 14, 1945, that Lt. Dole’s troops were ordered to take. Then-20-year-old Lt. Garcia and his squadron could not prevent Dole from being wounded that day but might have saved his life and those of other soldiers fighting against an intense German barrage. Some 460 soldiers in Dole’s division were casualties that day.
It is a small world. Garcia would be a relative of mine through marriage, and Sen. Dole would be my boss.
Garcia’s funeral did not include the famous horse-drawn caissons prominent at Gen. Colin Powell’s funeral five years ago. The 60-horse caisson stables were badly neglected over the years, resulting in a scathing investigative report. They’ve been put on hold and may return this summer. In the meantime, we followed two hearses containing the remains of the Garcia couple, a 60-member entourage of musicians, and an Air Force honor guard. He was honored with a seven-gun salute (three rounds, which makes it a 21-gun salute), befitting his service and rank.
Arlington National Cemetery is running out of room. There are so many heroes, so little space. Who knows what future heroes are emerging among us?
We are on the verge of losing our direct connection to The Greatest Generation.
Fortunately, much has been written, and movies and documentaries have been made about these heroes, from “Saving Private Ryan” to Tom Brokaw’s seminal book, “The Greatest Generation.” There are many others and many more heroes whose stories have been told. I had several ancestors who fought in World War II, including a grandfather (Big Red 1), several uncles (including for the 101st Airborne), and several more in Korea and Vietnam. My eldest son, an Army National Guard First Lieutenant in the legendary 116th Infantry regiment connected to Omaha Beach (D-Day, 1944) and the Civil War, has been combat-deployed to East Africa. It likely won’t be his last.
Our family’s service to our nation, dating back to the Revolutionary and Civil Wars, lives on. I bet yours does, too. These heroes, stories, and legacies must be examples to the next generation. We must do it ourselves because we cannot rely on our schools and failing institutions to relay them. It’s important.
The lessons are numerous: how young men and women rushed to enlist to defeat an evil enemy that threatened our way of life, how they pursued and defended freedom, opportunity, and justice, how they committed to a just cause bigger than themselves, and how they were willing to pay the ultimate price.
I am better for knowing Col. Garcia and his wonderful and talented family, Sen. Bob Dole, President George H. W. Bush, and others who have served our nation in its crisis. We all are, and we must impart this lesson to future generations. It is our duty.
“I lived my life always wanting to be like The Colonel,” Garcia’s namesake grandson, Grant, remarked at a family event before the burial ceremony. “He was easy to admire and a role model for many. But what I’ve learned is he didn’t expect me to be him, nor would he want any of us to be him - he lived the suffering, the poverty, the discrimination, and the challenges and horror of war so that his children and grandchildren and all the rest of America didn’t have to.
“Rather, I believe he would want us to take his values, discipline, and commitment to learn how to be great and find that in ourselves. This is a wonderful lesson for all of us and inspiration to find greatness in all we do. As we remember Colonel and Mrs. Garcia, I know they would want us to always strive for more and do our best in this life. That’s what really makes them American heroes.”
Wonderful tribute. Thanks.
A fine honest tribute! Outstanding!