“Although no sculptured marble should rise to their memory, nor engraved stone bear record of their deeds, yet will their remembrance be as lasting as the land they honored.” Daniel Webster.
Three months ago in the closing minutes of his 86th birthday my father Herbert Bingham Mead was “called home” at a hospice in Westchester County, New York, not far from our ancestral home in Greenwich, Connecticut. My sisters were with him in those closing moments. I was unable to be at his side to bid farewell.
This is the first Memorial Day he will not be with us in body. Dad is certainly with us in spirit.
My father made one final request to me in the summer of 2008. That was to research, write and publish a book about his service as a member of the U.S. 1st Marine Division when he was stationed in China 1945-1947. This blog is part of that final commission.
In 1983 my hometown newspaper, the Greenwich Time, opened the door by which I began my career as a published author. In May 9, 1993 Greenwich Time an published article, ‘Following in Historic Footsteps.’ In it I wrote in part,
“My vocation propels me to investigate the nooks and crannies of our culture and rediscover the traditional character of a New England town that I hold near and dear to my heart.”
While this sentiment still holds true 17 years later, my father’s final commission has thrust me into something extraordinary and exciting far beyond the hills southwestern Connecticut were my family has lived for over 350 years.
The articles and book I plan on publishing will preserve the histories and voices of not just my Dad and his fellow the China Marines. It will I hope include those who called Beijing and Tianjin home in those chaotic and frightening days in China.
The quote by Daniel Webster resonated with me. My Dad was a true patriot, one who found expression in an understated, unassuming style. But America was not the only land he honored. Dad truly honored Chinese civilization, one of Earth’s oldest and most dazzling. While stationed in Tianjin and Beijing he was privileged to visit palaces and cities steeped in allure and mystery, to walk in the paths and halls of “Sons of Heaven,” empresses, concubines, imperial households and court officials. That was just the beginning.
Never once did Dad utter to us a derogatory comment about his former Japanese enemies. It was not his way. When I shared the news several years ago that I was hired as an adjunct faculty to teach at a Japanese-based international college in Honolulu he was quite elated. “Keep them safe and take care of them,” he said. I understood. My father never wanted anyone to go through the trials of battle he had endured at such places as Guadalcanal and Okinawa, where he was almost killed in action on the front lines.
My hope is to bring to words, paragraphs and chapters the sights, sentiments, aromas and tales of an extraordinary time in history in a place steeped in mystery and history.
One of my father’s dreams –one that was sadly not realized before his death- was to return to China. Dad told me many times how much he loved China and its people. They were the happiest and the most dangerous days of his life and that of many others, and he always looked back with fond memories.
So, for me –and I hope for you- the windfalls of this amazing journey will be bountiful, enriching –and as we pause on this Memorial Day- somber and sobering.
A Prayer:
In the solemnity of our hearts and under the benevolent shade of freedom’s protection on this Memorial Day remember those who have trod the darkness of war and calamity, who rest eternally in the calm repose of God’s eternal blessings. Remember the families of those sunshine soldiers called home to your protection, Almighty God, and help those left behind find trust, healing and find the courage to move forward, ever hopeful that the sun shall rise on a day when such loss and sacrifice are no more. Amen.
