Parades, Tributes and a Sea of Tiny Flags Recall U.S. War Dead

Everyone noticed--from Gov. Gray Davis, as he was whisked by in his motorcade, to the visitors treading across the wet lawns in gym shoes: A crop of little American flags sprouted across the pastoral grass of the Los Angeles National Cemetery like a field of new plantings.

There were slightly more than 84,000 of them, one by each grave, in preparation for Monday’s Memorial Day observances at the cemetery.

On a day of unexpectedly early sunshine that stretched from ocean to inland, the holiday in honor of the American war dead was observed across the Los Angeles region with parades, color guards, speeches and, as always, the laying of flowers on graves.

American men and women who served in conflicts from the Revolutionary War to the current war in Yugoslavia were remembered.

“On this day, there are essential lessons for our youngest generation--a generation, in the wake of recent school-related tragedies, which may fear itself more than it does a foreign threat,” said Davis. “Memorial Day teaches all of us the blessings of freedom, the awesome power of sacrifice and the strength of community.”

For grandeur, no service topped the one at the National Cemetery in West Los Angeles, where Davis spoke to nearly 1,000 people. The event featured several choirs, the music of show veteran--and Army veteran--Joe Vento and his orchestra, a 21-gun salute and a dramatic flyover of nine World War II vintage planes. It riveted every onlooker’s head skyward and threatened to upstage Davis just as he arrived at the podium to begin his remarks.

It was the last speaker, retired Air Force Brig. Gen. Wilma L. Vaught, who most movingly captured the emotion of the day, so much so that audience members sought her out later for autographs and snapshots.

“I hope you see me as not just me standing before you but as the over 1.1 million living women veterans, the more than 350,000 women serving on active duty . . . as well as the millions and millions of men who served--because we serve together,” said Vaught, one of the country’s most decorated women veterans.

As at other venues, the crowd was a mix of young and old, the older ones fixtures at this annual event. There was 80-year-old Judy Bell, a former WAVE secretary and an American Legion official from Post 796 in Topanga Canyon. “I guess I’m just patriotic,” she said.

Henry Kaufman, 76, received three Purple Hearts. “The highest respect I have is for the people not here--the MIAs,” he said.

For some, a lone bugler playing taps stirred memories.

“It really gets to me,” said 1st Sgt. Samuel T. Johnson at a ceremony in La Canada-Flintridge. “A great number of my friends died in combat. . . . Tears come to my eyes when I think about them.”

The 70-year-old Johnson, an African American veteran of the Korean and Vietnam wars, joined a still segregated U.S. army in 1948 and participated in its integration.

“Particularly in combat, racial divisions are out the window,” said Johnson, who is an ROTC instructor at Blair High School in Pasadena and working on a doctorate degree. “I wish the American society would do that.”

At Montebello Park, a drum pounded softly in the background as the names of those who died in combat were read. Guy Gabaldon, a 73-year-old World War II veteran whose story was made into the 1960 war movie “Hell to Eternity,” was the featured speaker. Phillip Chavez traveled from Moreno Valley to hear Gabaldon.

“When I was growing up [“Hell to Eternity”] was one of my favorite movies,” Chavez said.

The 11th annual Memorial Day Parade in Canoga Park drew thousands of cheering flag-wavers who lined the curbs. Many wanted to catch a glimpse of Army Staff Sgt. Andrew Ramirez, the famously freed prisoner of war from the Yugoslav conflict. Ramirez, in uniform and accompanied by his mother, waved to the crowd from his perch in the back of a convertible as it glided along the parade route.

“It was very emotional for me,” said Marie Garcia of Reseda. She came especially to see Ramirez, who, like her, is Hispanic. “It’s my race and I feel proud along with him,” said Garcia, whose husband served in Vietnam. “Like I have just a little piece of this too.”

One of the more unusual observances took place just inside the gates of the U.S. Naval Weapons Station at Seal Beach, where a bell was rung for almost an hour Monday morning, once for each of 52 submarines lost during World War II.

“Tolling the boats” is what they call it. The name of each underwater vessel sunk in wartime was called out--along with the fate of the shipmen--and punctuated with the clang of a bell.

Wives and widows of the sailors then silently dropped carnations into a reflecting pool.

Back at the National Cemetery in West Los Angeles, every person was handed a carnation. They would later be collected and scattered over the ocean.

Some people brought their own flowers. Jackie Campos, 37, was carting a bouquet to the granite grave site of her father, Andrew Campos, a Korean War veteran.

In what has become a Memorial Day tradition, she met at the grave (“seventh row, 11th in”) with her mother, stepfather and siblings.

When she reached the site, Campos looked down at the fresh calla lilies perched in a vase. “My brother’s been here already,” she said, smiling.

Times staff writers Karen Robinson-Jacobs in Canoga Park and Nancy Wride in Seal Beach contributed to this story.