(The following text appeared in the November 9, 2006 "The Greatest Generation" compilation published by The Ellsworth American)

In the summer of 2004, several of us started talking about the harsh, sobering fact that American World War II veterans were dying at a rate of 1,200 a day.

We reflected on the message of the poet who wrote, “When a man dies, a civilization dies.”  That these men and women were passing away at such a rate was sad but inevitable.  That their stories were going to the grave with them was also sad – but not inevitable.

With the assistance of area VFWs, Veterans of Foreign Wars and Galen Cole of the Cole Land Transportation Museum in Bangor, we pulled together a list of WWII vets and started inviting them in for interviews.  In many cases, we went out to their houses and their nursing homes.

Some 12 years ago, when newspapers sought interviews with vets on the occasion of the 50th anniversary of the Normandy invasion, we were surprised to find that many of the men didn’t want to talk about it. It had been too horrible. It was in the past, best forgotten.  Theirs was a generation that dealt with adversity and moved on.  The British don’t hold the monopoly on the stiff upper lip.

But the passage of another decade has brought about a sea change.  Veterans are a little more inclined to talk.  Maybe 60 years of holding it in was enough.

Most of them tell us that they didn’t do that much.  To a man and woman they deny being heroes.  Not a one has boasted.

What they have shared with us are stories of fear and loneliness, discovery and awe, seasickness and sorrow.  A lot of Downeast Maine country boys saw places they never dreamed they’d see: Japan, Italy, England, Africa and the islands of the Pacific.  Many saw what they hoped never to see: death, fearsome wounds, furious ruin.

They’ve all told us tales they hadn’t told their own families.  Maybe the right moment hadn’t come along.  Many a wife or daughter-in-law has accompanied an elderly vet during the interview at The American.  Occasionally, after we’re through, a wife of 60 years will look across at her old sweetheart and say, “I’ve never heard that story before.”

As we begin our third year of weekly profiles under the heading “The Greatest Generation,” (thank you Tom Brokaw), we marvel at the appreciation and gratitude the series has generated.  Who knew?  Sometimes we launch a new feature and it promptly falls on its face.  But this one…this one soldiers on.

We proudly present this second annual compilation of a year’s worth of “The Greatest Generation” profiles, trusting that a new generation will come to respect and appreciate the men and women who put their lives on the line in a war that nobody doubted was being waged with the enemies of freedom.

Stephen Fay
Managing Editor