By Doc Lawrence

I first learned about the noble and long overdue project to raise funds for a memorial honoring those veterans who served in World War II while listening to a speech by Senator Bob Dole before a packed convention meeting in 1998 in San Diego.

Afterward, I interviewed the decorated war hero and former Presidential candidate about his Herculean undertaking and was so moved by his commitment that I did more than write a feature, I actually raised some money for his committee. Of course, I was motivated by someone a little closer to me than the charming Mr. Dole. My Dad – my hero – was a combat soldier in the European campaign.

Thirty years ago, my Father, who mustered out as a PFC from the Army, moved to Lake Worth, Florida after retiring from an Atlanta bank, then was recruited by a South Florida bank to work for them and he agreed. To no one’s surprise, he excelled and retired for a second time. I spend Sundays with him now and finally got him to talk a little about his war time experience, something he refrains from because the memories, I suspect, are so painful. I asked him all the countries he fought in. “I crawled on my belly across Europe, “ he replied, and I later determined that he meant France, Belgium, Austria and Germany.

His favorite commander was General Omar Bradley. “He brought all of us together in Innsbruck (Austria), to tell us thanks and how proud he was of each of us. He was such a great soldier and good man.” Bradley is one of the few men I’ve ever heard my Father describe so glowingly. I asked him about his most unpleasant memories and the response was automatic.”Everything. War really is hell. A person who hasn’t been there can’t imagine the horror and destruction.” My Dad rejects labels like hero or sacrifice. To him and millions of others, your country needed you to fight evil, you obeyed because it was your duty and you did your very best.

How lucky can a son be to have this guy for a role model?

You can’t get Dad to talk about any particular incidents and I’m almost certain he was in the thick of battle often. He has never watched a war movie and I don’t think he cares all that much about the Memorial dedication this weekend in Washington. He’d rather play golf but can’t because of two hip replacements.

I care deeply about the new memorial. I’m proud of Dad and those others who gave so much.

It took the men and women rallied by Bob Dole 17 years to get this memorial completed. It was preceded by memorials to the Vietnam and Korean Vets and now takes its place as a major shrine in Washington. I won’t be there for the dedication, but in New Orleans for a wine and food gala.

But there is a connection there with Dad. Just after World War II ended, he was assigned another tour of duty with a military police unit in New Orleans where he served as an aide to General Jonathan Wainwright who had been captured during the war by the Japanese. Dad stayed with the General at the luxurious Roosevelt Hotel in the Presidential Suite and tells stories that are spellbinding, often hilarious. The hotel is now the Fairmont and I received permission to see the suite and room where Dad lived shortly after he served his country on the battlefields of Europe.

He says he rested well and remembers one thing General Wainwright said to him: “Son, you’re my kind of soldier.”

Memorial Day weekend is the perfect time for the dedication ceremonies. I'm just glad that Dad and some others are still alive to witness this tribute from a grateful nation.

And, a special thanks belongs to Bob Dole. This was a monumental and laborious task. Without his untiring efforts, it might not have happened.