Obligations, patriotism, bravery, heroism, fear and nightmarish memories are seldom associated with people in the December of their lives. Watching two weathered old men helping each other navigate the steps of the VFW hall is a far cry from watching them as young boys answering their country’s call to war so many distant years ago.

The stories told in history cannot begin to describe the hardships and heartaches placed upon youngsters who only days before were contemplating the need to shave, or deciding which girl to take to the dance.

What thoughts must have raced through their minds as they were witness to the horrors of death and destruction that can only be found in the context of war, a war that shows no mercy and asks for none.

We, the living, are here today only because our parents and grandparents were fortunate enough to escape the jaws of death, a fate that cannot be said for the thousands of everyday people who gave the supreme sacrifice and are buried alone in some foreign field stained with their blood.

We cannot begin to fully understand what sacrifices these brave souls endured in their youth. We can, however, take time to simply shake their hand and sincerely thank them for their acts and deeds. You will see the deep appreciation in their aging eyes when they realize that even today someone appreciates their efforts and is willing to share their feelings with them.

We are honored by their presence, and giving them a hug every day of their lives will still not make up for what they have done for us, our children and our country.

We currently pay tribute to the men and women serving our country today, and I ask you never to forget the people who went before them, including my mother, 1st Lt. Ila M. Nolan, World War II U.S. Army Nurse Corps, and my father, Cpl. Leonard J. Wheel, WWII U.S. Army artillery.

Alan A. Wheel lives in Bangor.