A Helper, a Handshake, and a Band

Honor Flight Maine makes its first trip from Bangor

There is a good chance you have heard of the Honor Flight Network or Honor Flight Maine. This nationwide nonprofit provides all-expense-paid trips for veterans to Washington, DC—officially so they can tour the monuments and memorials to service, but also, I have noticed, so they are recognized, smiled at, thanked by strangers, laughed with, cried with, and respected as human beings with feelings and memories and a rock-steady love for this country. That is no small thing.

I was privileged to participate in an Honor Flight Maine trip to DC last week (April 25th - 27th) as an EMT volunteer, meaning I was extra hands for odd jobs, maybe a band-aid now and then, or snapping a photo for some new friends in front of a flag or a plaque or a name carved into stone.

The logistics of organizing a trip this size is quite a job, and this organization knows how to make it work. There are plenty of helpers, so bad knees, “old bones,” and wheelchairs aren’t any hindrance at all. Each veteran travels with his or her own “guardian” to assist with everything, usually a younger family member, occasionally a volunteer. We had a couple of Maine game wardens on this trip serving as guardians for folks who didn’t have a relative able to come along. With at least eight medical volunteers (paramedics, EMTs, and nurses) along as well, everybody was going to be safe.

We toured Fort McHenry (learning about how the Star Spangled Banner was written) and stood quietly at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier at Arlington National Cemetery (where four Korean War veterans placed a wreath of Maine balsam provided by Wreaths Across America). We went to the Iwo Jima statue (Marine Corps Memorial,) Navy Memorial (where the CEO wanted to talk to anybody who had worked at Bath Iron Works,) Air Force Memorial, Vietnam Veteran’s Memorial, Korean War Veteran’s Memorial, Lincoln Memorial, World War Two Memorial, and the Military Women’s Memorial. It was just the right mix of cathartic sentimental stuff and good fun.

I’d encourage readers to look up the history of Honor Flight, which started with an emphasis on the veterans of World War II who did not have time on their side if they were ever to see the memorial that had been built in their honor in 2004, 59 years after that war ended. Nobody disputed the heroism of the WW2 generation. The issue with those folks was how some hadn’t been away from home in many decades, and were quite elderly, and the idea of a trip to DC was pretty wild. The trip was, for many, more about logistics than psychology.

In the case of the Vietnam veterans, though, there is more to walking through an airport than just getting to your flight.

Vietnam vets are now the overwhelming majority on Honor Flight trips. On this trip, everyone was moved by the warm greetings as school field trip kids offered a round of applause at one Washington, DC site or another, and as young, active-duty service members joined the group for meals and conversation, and as random travelers in airports stopped to shake hands with men who assuredly did not get a handshake 50 or 60 years ago. The restorative effect of a smile instead of an insult was acknowledged all around. I believe this “national do-over” is healing not only for the service members who were actively disrespected as they returned from a war many of them never chose to fight: it is good for all of us. One of the dignitaries who spoke at the Bangor homecoming event described how we, as a nation, will never again confuse supporting the men and women in uniform—the people--with the idea of supporting war in general.

The “welcome home” at Bangor, by the way, was truly inspiring, with six color guards, a band, Governor Mills and other dignitaries, and an airplane hangar solid full of people. The Bangor community is good at this stuff.

I overheard people asking each other if they identified a favorite or most meaningful experience on the trip. This was my fifth Honor Flight Maine trip since 2014, and although I still feel it right in the gut when I look at the Vietnam Nurses Memorial sculpture, and the bugler at the Tomb of the Unknown is always stirring, this time I’d say it was when the band started to play in the National Guard hangar at Bangor. Ahem, sorry; these sniffles must be what they call “Honor Flight allergies.”