By Tom Davis, Executive Vice President, Susan Davis International
On May 5, 1868, three years after the last shots of the war that tore this nation asunder had been fired, an organization of Union veterans established Decoration Day, asking the nation to decorate the graves of the war dead with flowers. Over time Decoration Day became Memorial Day, a day to honor and mourn those who gave their lives while serving in the Armed Forces. It was World War I, when American forces suffered over 116,000 deaths, that spurred our national conscience to consider the sacrifices made by all the men and women who lose their lives in defense of this nation.
In September, we worked with the World War I Centennial Commission and a gifted sculptor, Sabin Howard, to introduce his incredibly moving memorial to those Americans who answered the call in World War I. His extraordinary work—A Soldier’s Journey—brings to life the path followed by the young Americans who left their homes to fight in a great war that raged in lands they scarcely knew.
While writing an introduction for “A Soldier’s Journey” I came across Mary Borden, a Chicago heiress who established hospitals in France and Belgium to treat wounded soldiers. Over 20,000 women served in the Army Nursing Corps during the war, spending endless hours exposed to and treating the horrible casualties. More than 400 nurses died in the line of duty. Mary Borden hauntingly captured the essence of their experience:
It is arranged that men should be broken and that they should be mended. Just as you send your clothes to the laundry and mend them when they come back, so we send our men to the trenches and mend them when they come back again. And we send our men to the war again and again, just as long as they will stand it; just until they are dead, and then we throw them into the ground. …
We send our men up the broken road between bushes of barbed wire and they come back to us, one by one, two by two in ambulances, lying on stretchers. They lie on their backs on the stretchers and are pulled out of the ambulances as loaves of bread are pulled out of the oven. …We receive these bundles. We pull off a blanket. We observe that this is a man. …This is the place where he is to be mended. …
We conspire against his right to die. We experiment with his bones, his muscles, his sinews, his blood. We dig into the yawning mouths of his wounds. Helpless openings, they let us into the secret places of his body. …
He is only one among thousands. They are all the same. They all let us do with them what we like. They all smile as if they were grateful. When we hurt them they try not to cry out, not wishing to hurt our feelings. And often they apologize for dying. They would not die and disappoint us if they could help it. Indeed, in their helplessness they do the best they can to help us get them ready to go back again.
Think about what gave rise to those thoughts so eloquently expressed. Think about what Mary Borden saw, heard, had etched in her mind for the rest of her life. Think about those who saw her face in the dimming light, held her hand, apologized as they slipped away.
Memorial Day … a day to reflect, to honor, to remember.