ARMISTICE DAY was what it was called when I was a child. A distant point in time in a vague war that was dimmed in memory by that which had just been won by painful human sacrifice that could be seen in every street of our small town, and especially at the local cemetery.
There was no mistaking the loss of furloughed Tom, whose right sleeve was empty of the limb he had given up in agony on some battlefield in Europe. Or of Mrs. Thompson, whose parlor table was crowded with the photographs of a smiling son who would never come home. The weight of World War II had lifted from the country, but the heavy burdens of individuals were still borne in sadness.
Even Mr. Lunsford's proud display of war souvenirs -- a Nazi flag, a pistol, a ceremonial sword -- to wide-eyed young boys was tempered by a sudden wave of sorrowful remembrance that puzzled us and smothered any celebration of the glory of battle and the war. People were just grateful that the war was over, that there was some relief from the years of unbroken strain and incessant worry. But they recognized the price that was paid.
There was rightful honor for the returned veterans of that war. But it never connected in our classroom to Armistice Day, which was as remote from us children as the Civil War or the War for Independence (only those wars didn't have holidays tied to their place in history).
Armistice was a funny word at the time, a big word for a little kid. It did not mean peace and it did not mean winning, it just meant that the fighting was over. I was party to several "armistices" called and then quickly broken in schoolyard scuffles by classmates who were also amused by the novelty of the word's definition.
Armistice Day didn't relate to that world war most recently ended, which was one of "surrender" by the enemy, of "victory" expressed in V-E and V-J days.
That wasn't simply a schoolboy misunderstanding, either. Not until after the end of the Korean War was the holiday changed to Veterans Day, to commemorate all who had served in the nation's armed forces. But the day was fixed by the magical formula of Armistice Day, when the World War I ceasefire was officially signed on the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month. It has stayed on that day, aside from a few years in the '70s, when holiday calendar rationalizers pushed it temporarily into October.
War to end all wars
