Time, Space Tolling for Aging WWII Veterans

Resto D’Andrea looks down at a gray stone marker in a special section of the Mount Hope Cemetery.

The inscription reads: Robert T. Foster, World War II, 1926-1978.

“Old Bob was a good guy,” D’Andrea says, laughing. “We used to run around together.”

D’Andrea and fellow veteran Art Russell stand in what’s known as Legion’s Circle, a 150-foot-wide area striped with rows of headstones and filled with stories of brave men and simpler times. Local veterans have been buried in the circle since 1925.

But a problem has come clear. Russell points to the 65-foot flagpole in the circle’s center, where the flag is flying at half-staff. “That means another veteran’s getting buried,” he says.

Age is taking its toll on the nation’s World War II veterans, and burial grounds like Legion’s Circle are running out of space.

In the past, Cass County has lost about a dozen veterans a year. But this year D’Andrea, the county’s Veterans Affairs officer, recorded 15 deaths in January alone.

The Department of Veterans Affairs in Washington, D.C., expects the veterans’ death rate to increase steadily through the next decade, peaking at an estimated 620,000 deaths in 2008.

Steve Westerfield of the National Cemetery Administration in Washington says the country’s 115 national cemeteries are being expanded and new ones are being opened to handle these burials.

In Logansport, plans are already together for a new space once Legion’s Circle is full.

Meanwhile, inside the chapel at Mount Hope Cemetery, a service is being held for Anthony Gregor, 82, a veteran of World War II.

Men from local chapters of the American Legion and the Veterans of Foreign Wars stand at attention outside, ignoring the icy rain.

The ceremony has become routine: Three men with rifles simultaneously fire three shots, a cassette of “Taps” is played, the expended shells are collected for the family, and the group rolls up Old Glory.

“I know most of those fellows,” D’Andrea says of the dying. “It’s sort of humbling and even a little depressing.”

Inside the cemetery office, John Vernon leans back in a chair, his head almost resting on a wall-sized map of Mount Hope’s grave sites.

The cemetery’s sexton--a veteran himself--says 51 empty plots remain in Legion’s Circle. They won’t last long.

“We expect that we’re going to have more activity out here,” Vernon says. “We expect the average to increase pretty dramatically in the next two years.”

Vernon points out that not all veterans are buried in the circle. Some have private family plots. But, he says, the circle is imperative because many can’t afford a proper burial, something they are guaranteed for their service. Something, as D’Andrea says, they have earned.

When World War II ended, he explains, the nation went from wartime manufacturing to peacetime, and the economy dipped. “Many of the 12 million veterans took any job they could get because they wanted to get on with their families and lives.”

With a family and a mortgage, most veterans kept whatever job they had. They might not find another. “So now the vets from World War II don’t have the big Social Security checks or the big pensions,” D’Andrea says. “We’re talking about people who need a free grave.”

The Legion’s Circle is also important because many veterans hope to be buried together. The bond is strong. Just consider the efforts of D’Andrea, Russell and Vernon to ensure that those who die are given the best.

In the circle, Russell moves at a frantic pace, his eyes scanning names, identifying each as if it belongs to his closest friend.

“He’s the last Cass County World War I vet,” he says, pointing to the grave of Aaron Hickman. “He was 102 years old when he died last year.”

As resident historian, Russell has helped make sure that every name and date on the gravestones is accurate. His sense of duty is obvious.

He walks to the center of the circle, approaching a simple stone monument that bears a brown-and-gold plaque. As he reads aloud, his voice is solemn: “Let those who come after see that these men shall not be forgotten.”