A Monument to Bravery and the Ultimate Sacrifice

It’s beautiful, tranquil, impressive, inspiring, sad and solemn. This August, I once again visited the Cambridge American Cemetery in England. As with every visit to this beautiful, lonely place, it was a moving experience. A time for reflection, for thanks and for recognizing the very personal toll of war. Not just for the soldiers, but also by their families. Each grave was someone’s son, father, husband, uncle, brother, nephew, fiance. Each was a profound loss for his family.

One grave stood out from all the others. Pink carnations were placed at the base of a cross honoring Lionel D. Fleming, corporal, 547 Bomb Squad 384 Bomb Group, from Indiana. He died June 25, 1943. Someone still remembers him. But what about the others?

That’s why I come back, as a stand-in for the families who can’t make the trip. Someone should remember them. It may not be Veterans Day when I visit, but it represents the same thing, paying homage, reflecting on sacrifice and bravery, on the value of freedom and democracy, of standing tall with allies in a time of peril.

This cemetery is the only World War II cemetery in England. Land for the 30-acre monument was donated by Cambridge University in 1944. It was dedicated in 1956 by President Dwight Eisenhower, former commander in chief of the Allied Forces, and is operated by the American Battle Monuments Commission.

In a dramatic fan-shaped arrangement, one can view the 3,812 crosses and Stars of David for soldiers such as Nathan Ungar, first lieutenant, 385 Bomb Group, from New York, who died Nov. 30, 1943, and Robert B. Leventhal, second lieutenant, 388 Bomb Group, from Missouri, who died Sept. 16, 1943. I like the fact that Jews and Gentiles are buried together, with respect for all faiths. They fought together, they are buried together. As it should be.

Each grave has a story. Each was a loss, some in the early days of the war, others at the very end. What a personal sacrifice, but what a gain for the world.

Beautifully landscaped and maintained, the cemetery is a reflection of American pride and appreciation. Yet few Americans visit there. Mostly the visitors are not British either, but “foreigners” on the “Cambridge Tour.” From all continents and language groups, they fan out over the grounds. It’s impressive that other nations want to pay their respects to our fallen.

I sense the loneliness, the distance from home that pervades this sacred ground, this little piece of the United States. As an American, I feel we are all family. As a Jew, I know that I might not exist had we not won the war. So I am doubly appreciative of the sacrifice. That’s why I have been visiting this cemetery over the past 32 years.

I grew up across from Fort Greene Monument in Brooklyn. The monument, made famous by Spike Lee’s films, honors more than 11,000 American Revolutionary War prisoners whose remains were cast off British prison ships near the Brooklyn Naval Yard. Playing in this park atop revolutionary cannons and cannonballs, I felt a connection with our nation’s history. There’s the same feeling when I visit the Cambridge cemetery.

Reading the comments of visitors in the visitors’ book, one finds others who share the same reverence for this final resting place. As one might expect, Americans and our allies pay homage to the United States. Interestingly enough, there’s also thanks to the United States from Japanese and German people. All the comments share respect, wonderment, dignity, beauty and, yes, grace.

Veterans Day is any day you choose to remember, to take time out and reflect on personal bravery and sacrifice. It’s important to remember and to say thanks, no matter what day of the year one has the opportunity.