The Mall: Korean War Veterans Memorial

I was very young in 1953, but old enough to hear about the Korean War. Murmurs, phrases. There were no sons on our street old enough to go fight there. And the Dads were too old. We had a black and white TV and I'd hear voices booming out about it when the news was on. But that all faded from my mind, and I don't even remember ever studying this war in school. It was a thing of the past.

All that changed when I flew to South Korea in 2002 with my husband to attend the FIFA Men's World Cup Championship tournament. I hadn't really wanted to go to Korea. With no sense of the language we were relying on the good graces of the citizens, our guide book with phrases we'd studied, and the tour buses and trains to get to the various venues. During one break between matches we heard about a tour to the DMZ. Just thinking of it made me nervous. I didn't want to go. But I did. Something told me I should be there. We rode the bus through long miles of rice paddies and hilly country with tea bushes and grapes sculpturing the steeps.

The demilitarized zone was full of soldiers, barracks, thoughts of war, & precise changing of possession of the building that housed a table which was divided in half lengthwise by an imaginary line so that one half was in the South and the other in the North. I didn't know all of that before we visited. When we arrived we were ushered into a theatre room and then saw a movie. It educated us about the history of the Zone. How a soldier was killed because he was hacking off a branch of a tree that blocked the South's view of the North. Killed with the ax. Of North Koreans being shot & killed when they tried to run to the South across the bridge. How the North Koreans had created an entire ghost city that looked industrious and beautiful across the river where workers were bussed in each day to work the fields before returning home once again. It was to entice folks to cross into a prosperous looking North.




We were warned and tutored in how to behave before venturing outside close to the demarcation line. Number one, we weren't to raise our hands above our heads, nor shout, nor make large gestures with our hands and arms. And two, we were to follow without fail those precise instructions, entering the Observation Tower when told to, and then the shared building where when inside we could step into North Korea. Some fellow standing next to me in the Observation Tower evidently didn't think much of these commands and absentmindedly raised his arm above his head. I didn't appreciate this as I was standing right next to him. I told him to lower it, nervously admonishing him because he was putting us all in jeopardy -- even though it made me feel like an old school marm. We had to wait longer than usual because there was an unusually large group touring from North Korea and they got first dibs on the building.



I asked one US soldier accompanying us what it was like there. he said, "Lonely. I've only been here a week. I get hazardous duty pay here. There's not much to do. There is a golf course. The North Koreans play really loud music late at night to disrupt our sleep."

This trip had a huge impact on me. Life changing. It led us to the Korean War Museum in Seoul a few days later. Life-sized panoramas of war and village scenes brought the devastation home. And they had a copy of the music that blared from the loud speakers recreating that harrowing sound of horses hooves galloping right at you at the So. Korean side. We spent most of the afternoon there taking everything in. Educating ourselves on what it was like to have lived and still live in this divided country.



Upon approaching this memorial in DC so far away from the Pacific Ocean, I was struck immediately by the realism here and the representation of Americans intermingled with Korean countrymen fighting side by side in miserable circumstances. Life size figures staking out territory with war worn gaunt faces looking hard for any movement that might be the enemy.

So many Americans wonder why the US was there. Now I know. And I found this dedication at the Memorial:

OUR NATION HONORS
HER SONS AND DAUGHTERS
WHO ANSWERED THE CALL
TO DEFEND A COUNTRY
THEY NEVER KNEW
AND A PEOPLE
THEY NEVER MET
1950 KOREA 1953

The Mall: WWII

We wanted to see two newer Memorials that weren't there the last time we'd gone to the Mall in 1996. An uncle I'd never met, husband of my mom's second oldest sister, Emily, had died with his plane when it was shot down during WW II. Ejner Lovig (of Danish descent) had been my Aunt's boyfriend in high school, and they'd been married ten years when he died. They'd never had children. She never remarried. [To be honest part of that was due to the widow's pension she received that augmented her income as a secretary. She did find love again.]

We found Ejner's name listed both from the National Archives and the ABMC Cemeteries - US Army Air Forces -- entries, and surprisingly one from my mother. I know she'd sent at least one donaton for this memorial and mentioned Ejner when she did. His name is listed as Ejnerogrein Lovig by her and I can only conjecture that -ogrein might have been a middle name?? A figment of her imagination??? I'll never know since my mother had Alzheimer's Disease when she sent the donation(s). I believe he'd been the bombardier since the pilot and another crew member were able to bail out and survived, and also from what fuzzy memories I have from family stories.


I just got the shivers. I looked him up right now via the memorial site and found that his name was a hyperlink to more information. As I read it I'm reacting with emotion and tearing up. He was a Staff Sargeant in the 707 Bomber Squadron, 447th Bomber Group, Heavy. Air medal with Three Oak Leaf Clusters. He's buried in Neupre, Belgium, in the Ardennes American Cemetery. Dead a little less than three months before my brother's birth.



I like this Memorial. It's classic so not as evocative as the Vietnam Wall. Yet it seems cohesive, the way they worked in a wall of Gold Stars with its own reflecting pool within the confines of the arc of State wreathed pillars, the Atlantic and Pacific entry towers with fabulous bronzed birds hovering above as you go through, and the central pool with spraying water.

The Mall past and present: The Wall

I do remember feeling quite moved by the Vietnam Memorial the first time I encountered it. I don't exactly remember when that was! But neither does my husband so I don't feel quite so bad.

It couldn't have been in our family trip from Illinois to the East Coast in 1981 because it wasn't finished then. What I don't recall is if I went there when in DC for a LLL International Conference back in 1995. For sure we were stopped there in late July of 1996 when we stopped in DC on the way to Atlanta, GA, to watch our first US Men's Olympic Soccer match (against Argentina) in the electric atmosphere of a roaring color-ladened crowd packed into RFK Stadium.

I remember being drawn in to the Wall as I descended into the earth. Well, it felt that way. Walking down the crease in the ground along the expanding Wall elicited feelings of not quite doom or dread, but of solemnity, accompanied by memories of the turmoil the war caused when I was in college of protests, overturned campus police cars and the Kent State shootings and my own strong reaaction against war in general. But more importantly it helped me reflect on the newer perspective I'd gained with time as I realized that those who died while serving weren't war mongers but young men who'd been drafted or those who wanted to server our country or enlisted looking for a way to a better life. And the injuries and loss of all those who died and the impact on their family, friends and communities.

So this time it was a lighter day. Still we witnessed a poignant scene. Brought to the Wall to gather some info to show I'd really been there, right at the very panel the GPSr had guided us to were three adults, a man and two women. At first I'd barely noticed them. Too busy counting. Then I heard a question, Are you serving?" asked a woman who looked close to my age with an official-looking yellow cap of a volunteer on her head. "Yes, Ma'am," came the very respectful answer from the fellow with that telltale haircut. "Which branch?" "Marines, Ma'am." The two women had something to say. "Just commissioned yesterday! As a Captain." "Is that right?" came the volunteer's reply as she turned toward the man again. She then approached him, reached up and planted ever so gently a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you." It was so much more than words can describe. The joy she exuded, the pride, the full knowledge of what he'd committed to with all the sacrifice and life-changing events ahead of him. And might even had already with being commissioned at that rank.

Even though I'd seen it before the Wall still carried quite an impact with the leavings of loved ones at the foot of the panels, the searching, the rubbings being taken of the names in the careful interactions with the inscribed black granite.

Teaism

We saw a beautiful window with tea sets and items in it on the way from the subway to the first geocache location. My daughter and I lingered at the window relishing the colors. Much later we all made our way back to it. The perfect stop for a quiet rest before heading off to Zeds, the Ethiopian restaurant.

Is it still November?

A friend of our family has been staying with us for four months. He came to do a clinical rotation as a med student at the local teaching hospital. Last week he surprised us with the announcement that he'd made arrangements for my husband and me to travel with him to Washington, DC. He told me this just after I'd walked in the door from my day at work after a long and hectic two weeks.

Let's see. Two weeks before we'd unexpectedly flown to DC for one day to witness the NE Revs blow the MLS championship match for the third year in a row. The day before that my family had thrown me a wonderful birthday party filled with friends and food. And they cleaned and tided the house all day Friday afternoon before that.

Then Thanksgiving week brought us to a family wedding in Pennsylvania. My car recorded a 1300 mile round trip. We had fun with my new camera on the ten hour drive home.

So was I ready to hear about traveling some more?

I was so stunned when informed of plane reservations that I simply walked away speechless.

I don't know what KSz thought of that. Funny thing was just before my daughter arrived for my b-day she'd mentioned on the phone that I was coming down to DC in two weeks, right?

No. I don't know how you got that idea, but no, I'm definitely not going to DC again so soon.

Sure, in two weeks, right?

No.

She dropped it. When KSz told her he'd made the arrangements she assumed that meant that he'd told us about it. Nope.

I was so stunned that I recoiled from the idea every time it entered my brain. I couldn't fathom another trip.

I wanted down time. I wanted to do nothing and go no place. The tickets were bought. What could I do?

I went. And although I doubt I slept more than 8 hrs total the whole weekend, I had a great time. That's because he finally said the right words. Can't you go geocaching down there?

Ah,yes, there are virtual geocaches all around the Mall.

I was finally convinced it was possible for me to go, and maybe even enjoy it.