Anyways, the point of this is to tell you just how interesting this has been for me. I am NOT in any way a military history buff. Or any kind of history buff. It's interesting, sure, but I'd rather read fiction than non, and I've seen more battlefields than I'll ever remember. I leave that to the men in my family. They're all in the Army (some on purpose, some by accident of fate), they're all ridiculously bright, and they all love history. Even my mom, with her graveyard and family history obsession, falls right in with them. So when I first started working at the archives, I felt a bit out of place. I'm just there to get some exposure to the field, everyone else that volunteers there is a veteran, over 50, and has lived through, not to mention studied, far more history than I. It's actually kind of fun because when there are more than 3 of them in a room they all reminisce about the crazy things they did as children (filling discarded hypodermics with gasoline and lighting it for an impromptu flame-thrower) and talk about how surprised they are they made it to adulthood. It's absolutely delightful.
So my lack of knowledge in this area is the reason I'm so excited to be going through each of these files. With each one, I get to see the faces of war heroes from eras past, read their spectacular stories, and learn a little bit more about that side of American history with each one. My favorite part are the items that personalize the stories: photos, letters, even just a signature.
It's also, honestly, quite heartbreaking. Many of the medals were awarded posthumously. In some of these cases, instead of a photo of the soldier in the file, there is a photo of his loved ones at the presentation ceremony. In these photos, the president awarding the medal is invariably ecstatic, clearly impressed by the example of these men, and appreciative of the opportunity to honor them in this small way (It's really cute actually, most of the ones from WWII, which also actually make up most of the medal winners, are president Truman, and he is just beaming. In the ones awarded while the soldier was alive, they usually show him hugging the soldier or holding him about an arm's length away while he talks to the soldier. I'll paste a pic below). In the posthumous awards though, the faces of the families, tell a different story. I have not seen one that is smiling. While I am sure they are grateful for the example of their lost son or husband or brother or father, their grief and pain at his loss is strongest for them, and it is so clear on their faces. These photos hurt the most. They show that, no matter how high the honor, there is nothing that can repay their sacrifice.
So every day that I go in there, my fingers get a little dirtier with newsprint. My knowledge bank grows a little bit more. My heart hurts a little bit more. But most of all, I gain more respect and understanding for the kind of man who would knowingly sacrifice himself to save his friends. That's what keeps me going back.
(the soldier in this photo is Desmond Doss, and I'm going to tell you his story because it's amazing. He's actually from my area! Anyways, he was the only conscientious objector to win the medal in WWII. He was Adventist and refused to carry a weapon or fight or work on his sabbath (Saturday). So he got a position as a medic with a unit stationed near Okinawa. One day, his unit got in a bit of trouble, and he was the only medic left. He agreed to come help as soon as he finished his scripture study (bless!), and arrived to find his unit on a high cliff with no escape but down the cliff. He waited, under fire, and used a rope to lower 75 (75!) other people to safety. Only when all were safe did he leave his post and seek safety himself. There are also a couple of other incidents where he rushed in to treat mortally wounded soldiers in incredibly dangerous situations, and continuing treatment even after he himself was wounded.)
