The Eleventh Hour
“Hostilities will be stopped on the entire front beginning at 11 o’clock, November 11th (French hour). The Allied troops will not go beyond the line reached at that hour on that date until further orders” (Allied Commander, French Marshal Ferdinand Foch).
Numerologists believe that certain numbers hold “special powers”. They say it’s no coincidence that the Armistice ending World War I went into effect on the Eleventh hour, of the Eleventh day, of the Eleventh Month. Eleven is a “Master Number*”. But the staff of French Marshal Foch, the Supreme Commander of Allied Forces, had a more practical reason. The ceasefire was signed at 5:00 am on that day. The battle lines were four hundred miles long, and there were continuing operations both at sea and in the air. 11/11/11 was an easy way to communicate to all that the battles should stop, at all places, at the same time.
* 11 represents illumination; a channel to the subconscious; insight without rational thought; and sensitivity, nervous energy, shyness, and impracticality. It is a dreamer (Numerology).
Estimates are that 3000 soldiers died in that six hour span. Some died because commanders hadn’t “gotten the word yet”. Some were trying to gain “that last” strategic advantage over an enemy they battled for more than four years. It is a measure of the massive size of the war, that so many died in that brief period before the shooting stopped.
The End of War
Originally, “Armistice Day” celebrated the end of “The War to End All Wars”. But the next generation discovered that World War I was only a beginning. November 11th was soon joined by May 8th, Victory in Europe Day, and the formal surrender of Japan on the deck of the USS Battleship Missouri on September 2nd. In the United Kingdom and Canada, it became known as Remembrance Day. In the United States we call it Veterans Day, to honor those who served. (That’s different than Memorial Day, that honors those who died in service).
I am the child of two World War II veterans. Dad was from Cincinnati, and joined the Army (rather than be drafted) in 1941. He ultimately used his finance degree from the University of Cincinnati to become part of Army Finance, dealing with payrolls and, after the D-Day Invasion, currencies in France.
Mom was British. Her war experiences were dramatic as a part of Prime Minister Winston Churchill’s “private” spy service, the Special Operations Executive (SOE). She was in and out of occupied Europe throughout the War (“My Story”, in her own words). They met and fell in love as the bombs fell on London, and had to move their wedding date up by a couple of months because of the coming D-Day invasion.
My Generation
So I’ve always had a special appreciation of those who served their Nation. After all, if it wasn’t for that service, I wouldn’t be here!! I grew up with their stories, shared around the living room over gin and tonic or straight Kentucky bourbon. I was too young (barely) to get drafted for the Vietnam War, but that conflict soured many Americans on military service. And many civilians had difficulty distinguishing those who served, from those who bore the responsibility for sending our soldiers there. Coming home from Vietnam meant hiding their service, even at the airports as they travelled. I had close friends who had the toughest duties in Vietnam, and it took a lot of trust for them to share their stories.
In my father’s generation, 33% of the men served in the military. Today, less than half of that percentage have that same shared experience. That makes Veterans Day even more special. It’s not just to honor their service, but to realize the huge sacrifice many of them have made. War hasn’t gotten “better” in our advanced technical age, in fact, advances have made the injuries more serious, and difficult to treat.
Haunting
Warfare seems different, maybe even crueler in this modern age. Our recent wars have been fought where it was difficult to distinguish between ally and enemy. A ten year-old child looking for a Hershey Bar from my father’s generation, more recently carried an improvised explosive device.
And we now know that brain injuries and exposure to varying chemicals leave lifelong effects. The veteran who seems “fine” on the outside, may still be suffering on the inside. I had the opportunity to spend some time with these “new” veterans. (As opposed to the old veterans sitting around our living room back in the 1960’s). Not only do they need to be recognized for their efforts, but also helped with the issues that still haunt them (often literally).
It’s Veterans Day, a day designated to honor those who served our Nation. I’ve gone from knowing veterans of my parents’ generation, to my generation, to the generations of kids I taught and coached in school. No matter the divisive politics of our current era; no matter whether someone is “MAGA” or “Woke” or somewhere in between. We all owe a debt of thanks to the few who served and serve now. That debt is payable on any day, but particularly today.
To my Veteran friends – Happy Veterans Day. Thank you for your sacrifice, for all of us.
