Every Veterans Day weekend, a variety of television stations broadcast old war movies; from a young age, I learned from my father the importance of these films.
My great-grandfather Henry and my great-granduncles Isadore and Raymond all fought in World War II. Raymond was the eldest, barely 24 when he enlisted just before Pearl Harbor, Isadore was 19 when the war began and Henry was a high school student. Isadore and Henry returned home safely; Raymond did not.
It became — and is — of solemn importance to watch these Veterans Day films to remember the courage of those who survived, and those who did not, and to hope for America’s future.
One of these Veterans Day weekend movies is the 1953 satire piece “Stalag 17,” which focuses on American POWs in a Nazi stalag (prison camp). Even facing atrocious situations, the American sergeants manage to laugh with each other and at the bumbling Krauts — the Nazis. What awes me no matter how many times I watch “Stalag 17” is the young American men’s bravery. Even at the hands of the Krauts, the sergeants never relinquished, exemplifying some of the characteristics we should try to embody and face the challenges in our own lives with, too.
“Without these courageous boys, without the Tommys and Novaks, we wouldn’t have even a fraction of the prosperity and peace we enjoy today.”
Since I wrote my junior year research paper on my family members who fought in WWII, Christopher Nolan’s 2017 “Dunkirk” also holds significant meaning for me. Focusing on the May and June 1940 evacuation from Dunkirk after the Germans surrounded the Allies, “Dunkirk” follows Tommy, a young British soldier, and another soldier he meets on the Dunkirk beach (whom we’ll call Guillaume since we’re never told his real name). “Dunkirk” exemplifies heroism and justice in a different way than “Stalag 17.” Tommy is incredibly inexperienced — every time I watch him escaping across the English Channel, I remember that he and Guillaume are hardly older than me. They drop their belongings in the sand to save a wounded man. They shake at the sound and sight of the Luftwaffe. And yet, they are brave and just. Guillaume saves Tommy from drowning, and Tommy believes Guillaume is no Ally traitor even when a band of Scots accuses his friend of being a German.
Despite youth, inexperience and fear, they’ll fight side by side until the end, be it bitter or melancholy sweetness. In both films, the bravery of these young men is astounding. To fight against the Nazis and Japan, to hold out in the face of sometimes almost-guaranteed failure, to sacrifice and toil for the preservation of the free world is honorable beyond any means, yet people nowadays are content to villainize America.
My grandmother recently found Raymond’s posthumous Purple Heart. Opening that pristine, 80-year-old silk box and gazing upon the weighty violet ribbon and golden medal, wrapped perfectly in paper, all I can impart is without these courageous boys, without the Tommys and Novaks, we wouldn’t have even a fraction of the prosperity and peace we enjoy today.
Films preserve precious moments in time, especially these memories of bravery that I cherish. If you feel the same, maybe this Veterans Day, give “Stalag 17,” “Dunkirk,” “Patton,” “Saving Private Ryan” or “Band of Brothers” a watch. Or better yet, go out and learn about your own family history. Learn, remember, honor.
In memoriam: Raymond Novak, Nov. 17, 1917 (Pennsylvania) – May 12, 1945 (Okinawa)
