the goat farmer's almanac

I refuse to celebrate them as "the greatest generation" because in doing so we are celebrating courage and sacrifice in the cause of war. And we are miseducating the young to believe that military heroism is the noblest form of heroism, when it should be remembered only as the tragic accompaniment of horrendous policies driven by power and profit. Indeed, the current infatuation with World War II prepares us-innocently on the part of some, deliberately on the part of others-for more war, more military adventures, more attempts to emulate the military heroes of the past.

Howard Zinn, The Greatest Generation?

As Zinn points out, the “greatest generation” is a dangerous cultural construct . For me, it's also personal having experienced firsthand the greatest generation in the personage of my Dad; a sullen, festering boil of resentment whose main avocation was falling off his bar stool at the American Legion Hall. Who knows, Dad and his greatest generation buddies at the Legion might have been the same emotional cripples without their war experiences but I'm pretty sure it didn't help. At his mother's funeral, my Dad's twin brother felt obliged -- probably out of embarrassment -- to explain to me why he couldn't cry: he'd seen "too many dead people in the war."

I watched an episode of The War the other night expecting a big dose of Greatest Generation hagiography but got instead some surprising glimpses of the real deal. Many of those interviewed about their war experiences expressed a disconcerting moral numbness typified by the reminisces of a bomber pilot who confessed to feeling sick before each bombing run knowing he was off to kill innocents. But, once he was in his plane and off the ground it became a job, a job he had to do.

People of my parents' generation were not a whole lot different than any other generation: most of them ordinary folks helpless, powerless or unwilling to buck the rules of life's big game. So, they end up doing their jobs as though firebombing Hamburg was no different than bolting fenders on the assembly line. Dad never considered himself a hero and treating him and his buddies as if they were marble war statues was the last thing they needed or wanted. Helping them regain and maintain their humanity might have helped.