“Silent Heroes”

Ephesians 6:10-13

November 13, 2005

 

One day when I was a young boy, I was rummaging around in the attic when I came across a dark green, canvas, duffle bag stuck back in the corner.  I grabbed the bag by the strap and pulled it out into the middle of the floor noticing that it was heavy.  As I pulled it, I could tell that there was something solid inside, but most of the bag was soft to the touch.  Curious as to what I might find, I opened the bag and peered down inside.  It looked like clothes, green clothes, but I knew there must be something in the bag besides just clothes, so I started emptying the bag. 

A pair of pants came out first, then another pair, then a couple of shirts, all of them olive green in color.  Then I came across two pairs of boots, combat boots, one pair all black, the other pair black and green.  “Why would dad have these military clothes,” I asked myself.  Then I came across the solid object that I had heard earlier.  It was a helmet, a soldier’s helmet.  I put it on.  It didn’t fit.  But there was more in the bag, so I kept digging. 

Another shirt this time, but this shirt had some patches on it, so I unfolded the shirt and held it out in front of me.  There over the breast pockets were two blue and white patches.  On said, “US Air Force.”  The other said, simply, “Matthews.”  I couldn’t believe it.  These were not just some military clothes; they were my dad’s military clothes.  I put the shirt down and opened the bag to look and see what else I might find.  There at the bottom of the bag was the greatest, and coolest, discovery I had yet to make.  The last item in the bag was my dad’s flight jacket, complete with Air Force patches and emblems, and a black, leather nametag that said, “Larry F. Matthews, Captain.”  I immediately tried it on too.  It didn’t fit either, but I didn’t care.  I wore it with pride, along with the helmet still on my head. 

On this Veteran’s Day weekend, we pay tribute to all those who served this country, those who not only risked their lives, but also those who gave their lives so that you and I may be free.  The men and women who served this country are a rare breed indeed.  They did what many of us would never dream of having to do.  And they did it with honor and integrity and pride.  When their country called upon them, they answered the call, sometimes willingly and sometimes not so willingly, but they answered anyway, all for the sake of a country not always appreciative of their service and sacrifice.

Having been born as the Vietnam Nam War was coming to an end, I was not old enough to get caught up in the civil unrest and political fallout that occurred during the war.  My thoughts were on other things like every other youth at that time.  For me, wars were something that I studied in History class and read in History books.  They were not something that captured my thoughts and emotions or caused me to pause and reflect on as it does today.  Sure there were plenty of events happening around the world, but they were the furthest thing from my young mind. 

As I have gotten older, I have come to appreciate and respect those people who served my country, because I have come to learn what they had gone through.  I’ve heard their stories and experiences and seen them stop in mid sentence to gaze off passed me reliving some moment in time that I would never know, and they would never forget.

I’ll never forget the day when I went to a man’s house a few doors down from our family.  His name was Van, and he and my dad would go arrowhead hunting together.  He invited me over one day to look at his arrowhead collection, and when I walked into is living room I noticed plagues and medals and pictures on the wall.  I asked him to tell me about them and he did.  He served in the Army during World War II in the European Theatre.  His stories were both amazing and awe-inspiring. 

But I’ll never forget the moment during our conversation, when he suddenly broke down and started crying.  And for a few minutes, we just sat there in the silence of our thoughts, as I wondered what images he was seeing and what names he was remembering. 

These people experienced the worst of humanity and also the best of humanity.  They experienced anguish and hurt, pride and joy, terror and horror, courage and bravery.  They experienced things that I pray I and my children and my children’s children will never have to experience in our lives.  But they did, these silent heroes who sacrificed their innocence and youth and hopes and dreams and bodies and hearts and mind, so that we, and others, may live in the freedom we were divinely given by our Creator.

          These men and women who answered their country’s call will never have their names in history books, they will never gain the fame and fortune like others who served, they will always be the silent heroes who did their duty without fanfare or glory, but always with honor and integrity. 

Some of our veterans still walk among us today, the common, everyday people we would never suspect, but whose stories would make you both laugh and cry.  And some of them die at a rate of 1100 per day, their stories, our past, forever lost, but never forgotten.  They are our grandparents and parents, sisters and brothers, husbands and wives, and sons and daughters, all with stories to tell, stories that we should know, so that we might never forget their service and sacrifice for us.  My hope is that we will continue to learn the stories of all our the silent heroes, that we will continue to lift them up to God in our prayers, so that we will never forget what they did and continue do for us.   

Yesterday, Hollie, Kara, and I went to Staunton to the Veteran’s Day parade.  Hollie was walking with her Girl Scout troop in the parade, and Kara and I stood on the side of the street waiting for her to pass by.  As Kara and I stood there watching the veterans walk by us I couldn’t help but shed some tears.  There I was at a parade with my hands on my five-year-old daughter’s shoulders all made possible because of what these men and women did, these silent heroes who I will probably never know, but to whom I am eternally grateful, because they stood firm during some of our darkest hours, willing to confront the evil of our time. 

Edmund Burke once said, “The only way for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing.”  These silent heroes were willing to take a stand against all that opposes human freedom and declare to the world that oppression, injustice, genocide, tyranny, and terrorism, and every from of evil will not triumph in the end.  They were willing to fight and they were prepared to die for that which is greater than ourselves, for that which is true and just and eternal.  And I pray that all of us will live by the example they have set.  I pray that all of us will be willing to stand firm and do our duty against the evils in the world and work for justice, freedom, and peace just like they did.   

 As I stood there with Kara and watched her wave at those silent heroes walk by, I thought about that day in the attic so long ago.  I thought about how that day changed everything for me in the way I thought about my dad.  There lying in the dark recesses of the attic was a whole other story about him that I had not known before.  He never really talked about his military experience much, probably because I never thought to ask. 

But once I took all that I had found that day to him, he told me his stories, stories that even to this day I do not get tired of hearing.  My hope for my children is that they will also hear the same stories I have heard, not just stories about my dad, but also stories about Jill’s dad, and stories about their great grandpa.  They would never think of themselves this way, but I will always think of them as heroes.

May God’s grace forever be upon our veterans, upon all of those silent heroes, whose lives are now with God, whose lives are now with us, and whose lives will be in the future.  May all of their service and sacrifice be lifted up with our greatest admiration, respect, and gratitude.  Amen.