VERO BEACH — Veterans Day keynote speakers often wax poetic about the glory and honor of serving in the military, but Commant Sergeant Major Ed Britt decided to reverence the fallen soldiers memorialized on Veterans Memorial Island Sanctuary by not sugar-coating what it’s like to face the enemy in close range in the midst of confusion.
CSM Britt surely knew that hundreds of people flock to the annual celebrations on the island to be inspired, to leave brimming with patriotism and maybe to shed a tear of pride in America and in the beautiful sanctuary that Vero Beach holds dear.
And those who traversed the footbridge to the island carrying folding chairs got what they desired from the presentation of the colors, the booming brass of the patriotic music, the lilt of the soprano singing The Star-Spangled Banner, the haunting walk of the bagpipes, the rattling gun salute and the somber playing of Taps.
“This place, this island . . . is fantastic,” Britt said. “Often I come here when I’m in the area and I walk these grounds. I come here to meditate and recall the young faces,” he said, the faces of the men he fought with and especially the faces of those who had to be left behind, or who died on the battlefield.
Along with the pomp and circumstance, those who attended Tuesday morning’s ceremony got something to ponder on Veterans Day. They got an education in, or for many veterans in the crowd, a reminder of the messy, brutal, complex, covert and frustrating parts of the wars that politicians send our men and women to fight around the world.
A decorated former U.S. Army special forces sergeant, Britt relayed not the memory of one of his many victorious missions, but of one that went gravely wrong. After arduous stateside training at Ft. Bragg, his unit traveled to Vietnam in September 1970 to execute a rescue plan, but when they arrived, the 70 U.S. prisoners of war they expected to find had already been moved.
Still, they fought their best, killed nearly 200 Vietnamese they found at the prison camp and prayed they would get back home to their families. Some were lost, others captured, held and tortured for three years in inhumane conditions.
He described the cells where POWs spent day and night amidst “years of urine, blood, vomit and feces,” he said, apologizing for the graphic picture he was painting, but acknowledging the harsh reality of how POWs lived. He told about the sparse meals, the diseases the suffered from and how they battled the elements.
Some comforts were available, he said, but they came at a price. Information given to the enemy could be traded for food or for a blanket or even for freedom, but the soldiers’ code of conduct prevented them from giving in, or from giving up that information.
He read Article 3 of the U.S. Military Code of Conduct: “If I am captured I will continue to resist by all means available. I will make every effort to escape and to aid others to escape. I will accept neither parole nor special favors from the enemy.”
It’s that kind of experience, Britt said, that haunts veterans when they come home. Those lasting effects of war are not new, he said, but the terminology has changed over the past century. He explained that veterans of early wars came home “Shell shocked” before it was called “battle fatigue,” and then Vietnam added Agent Orange to the mix, leading to the slow death of millions of those who endured the lengthy Vietnam conflict. Now, he said, it’s post-traumatic stress disorder or PTSD.
“What war couldn’t do to us guys, time and Mother Nature did,” he said.
That’s why local veterans’ groups are trying so hard to reach out to the younger veterans coming home from Iraq, Afghanistan and other battle zones. Their forbears want to be there for them, to empathize, to help them re-connect with family and to assimilate back into civilian life emotionally, economically and socially.
After Britt concluded his speech, a wreath of white mums was carried down the center aisle of those gathered at the ceremony and placed at the foot of one of the monuments on the island.
“The floral wreath is a living memorial of all those who have given their lives to the service of their country, said Col. Tony Young, who heads of the Vero Beach Veterans Memorial Island Sanctuary Committee, while the soulful notes of Amazing Grace played on the bagpipes were carried by the cool autumn breeze from the island to the Indian River Lagoon and beyond.
County Commissioner Tim Zorc, a native of Vero Beach has been attending ceremonies on Memorial Island for many years, and remembers the island in the 1970s, when it was overgrown with Australian pines. The City of Vero Beach purchased the island in 1947 and dedicated it in the early 1960s as Memorial Island Park. In 2003, the Memorial Island Sanctuary Committee was formed to plan memorials and aesthetic enhancements on the island.
Though the island belongs to Vero, Zorc said, it’s really the crown jewel of the wider community, and a truly sacred place.
“I think the numbers of the people who were here shows how much support for the veterans there is in Indian River County,” Zorc said.
A lot has to come together to make one of the major patriotic day events happen, from city grounds staff and law enforcement to dozens of volunteers and local businesses donating time and treasure.
Lisa Harvey lives in Sebastian, but she showed up early Tuesday morning because her employer, Palm Gardens, donates the use of their large golf carts to ferry people to and from the parking lot before and after the ceremony.
Tuesday was her second experience with ceremonies on the island, as she also worked the Memorial Day event.
“My father and my cousins are veterans and and I lost my uncle in Vietnam, so it means a lot to me, and my son is about to go into the Army” she said. “Every time I’m down here I see that flag and I’m teary eyed.”
