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#1133 – Dick Bernard: A Presidential visit to Hiroshima. Now it's up to us.

The annual Memorial Day observance of Veterans for Peace Chapter 27 is today, 9:30-10:30, at the Vietnam Memorial on the Minnesota State Capitol Grounds, St. Paul. This is always a meaningful observance.
(click on photos to enlarge them)

Long family, 1943.  Francis at right.  The  Francis' story follows the Vigil photo, below.

Long family, 1943. Francis at right. The Francis’ story follows the Vigil photo, below.


(I submitted the following commentary to the Minneapolis Star Tribune, May 20, 2016)
The scheduled visit of President Obama to Hiroshima is a great many years late, but commendable, a positive move away from our enslavement to a nuclear system and, hopefully, away from the “war is the answer” response to most any international problem.
I was five when those bombs dropped on Hiroshima, then Nagasaki, in August, 1945.
My mother’s brother, George, since 1943 a Lieutenant on the Destroyer Woodworth, was in the Pacific. The ship’s log records the boat as docking at Tokyo September 10, 1945.
After the bombs, Grandma Rosa Busch wrote her son a letter from the ND farm: “Hurrah, the old war is over!” August 9, George’s wife, Jean, wrote from near Grand Forks, “The news that excited everyone is Russia’s declaration of war on Japan. Surely Japan will crumble now under the combined pressure, new atomic bomb and repeated attacks.” Uncle George, in a letter written about the same day, concurred.
Hardly anyone, likely even new President Truman, knew what this atomic bomb thing was, except that it was something unlike anything before. Aunt Jean enclosed in her letter a newspaper clipping with an optimistic quote from the U.S. War Department: “A revolutionary weapon designed to change war as we know it, or which may even be the instrumentality to end all wars, was set off with an impact which signalized mans entrance into a new physical world.”
No one really knew what we had unleashed, except, as Grandma said in her letter, “the old war is over”.
War had been shown to be hell. 407,316 U. S. war dead.
People doubtless knew others – estimated 50,000,000 altogether – had died in World War II.
But that astronomically larger loss was different. All that mattered was our tribe.
We don’t have the luxury of ignorance, now, over 70 years into the nuclear age. We can assure our own destruction.
Latest estimates from the Nuclear Threat Initiative (NTI)) are that the U.S. has 7200 nuclear warheads, and we are about to expend billions of dollars to upgrade them? Why?
May 18, 2016, NTI sent a survey. Included in their e-mail was this brief statement, recommending “The Partnership“, by Philip Taubman. The book tells the story of five American Cold Warriors — George P. Shultz, William J. Perry, Henry A. Kissinger, former Senator Sam Nunn, and Stanford physicist Sidney D. Drell–who stunned the world when they came together to announce their support for a world without nuclear weapons. The New York Times called the book “fascinating” and “haunting.” “
We face a simple choice: we can continue to relive and debate the nuclear war past, which ended in an instant in August, 1945, and base our policies and our endless arguments on the perceived need of nuclear retaliatory force.
Or we can show good example of another way, by ridding ourselves of the scourge of nuclear weaponry and other similar weapons of mass destruction.

The downing of the Egyptian plane over the Mediterranean May 19 may give us an opportunity. If it does turn out to have been a terrorist bomb planted somewhere on the planes last ill-fated days, what do we do to retaliate? Launch an atomic bomb? Against who?
Or do we come to our senses and figure out a new way to deal with threats of all kinds, some of which, like the atomic weapon, we created.
President Obama’s visit to Hiroshima will shine a light on a new path. I am thankful for that.

Vigil, Minneapolis MN, May 27, 2016.  Photo by Hiroto

Vigil, Minneapolis MN, May 27, 2016. Photo by Hiroto


Monday, May 30: I watched the President at Hiroshima at 3:40 a.m. on Friday May 27, and was unable to attend the moving vigil in Minneapolis that evening (photo above).
The newspaper didn’t print my op ed, which is their right. My intent was and is to encourage civil conversation among unlike minds about the nuclear issue, and the destructive nature of war itself.
In my letter to the STrib I told only part of Grandma’s story. On July 2, 1944, the young GI in the picture at the beginning of this post (likely just home from Basic Training, before going to war), who lived perhaps three miles from their home, was a parishioner at the same country church in North Dakota, and was in school with her children, was killed in the Pacific: “Fri [Aug 18, 1944] we had a Memorial Mass for Francis Long killed July 2 on Saipan”, Grandma wrote to her son at sea.
Francis had left high school to go to war, not unusual in those days.
July 25, 1945, two weeks before the Bomb, Grandma noted in a letter to her son at sea, that her nephew, next farm over, Marine Captain August Berning, “had a bad battle [on Okinawa] got shot through his jacket”, though apparently not injured.
Everyone was on edge. World War II and death from war was not far away from her farm. It was not far away from anyone, anywhere.
My friend, Lynn Elling, missed President Obama’s speech last Friday: he died Feb. 14. I know what he would say to me and others. The phrase I most often heard from him was that we are at “an open moment in history” to achieve peace, and I agree with him.
Lynn visited the Peace Memorial Park at Hiroshima the year it opened in 1954. His peace moment came early in his two years as a Naval officer in WWII when he saw Tarawa Beach a short time after the horrors there, Nov. 20-23, 1943: Lynn U.S. Navy001. I think he would have been pleased with both the presence of the President at the Memorial, and the tone of the proceedings May 27.
You build bridges by direct engagement, and in steps.
In our polarized U.S. we tend to build walls, choosing confrontation with or detachment from those with differing points of views. We cannot survive in our own personal or interest group silos, much less with bombs in silos everywhere.
We need to look forward, not look backward, or engage in theorizing (as, “the bombs saved 200,000 lives….”) or such.
Still, the Bomb did happen. We still possess thousands of warheads, for no good reason. This world will not survive with nuclear powers. It is our responsibility to change the course, the conversation, not those folks over 70 years ago.
The road to peace is through all of us, one act of peace at a time.
Watch closely, the evidence is there, that more and more of us are getting that message.
Here’s to positive engagement.

A directly related post from my friend, Peter Barus, yesterday, is here.
What has been the human cost of war for the United States? Back in March I put together a graphic which simply speaks about American deaths in war. You can see the single page here (click to enlarge). Of course, this barely scratches the surface, not including injuries, dislocation, and on and on, but gives an idea. War is not a video game.
Human Cost of War001
Convenor and Vietnam vet Barry Riesch  opens the 2016 Vets for Peace Remembrance for Memorial Day, 2016.   This years event lasted over an hour and attracted what appeared to be about 150 people.

Convenor and Vietnam vet Barry Riesch opens the 2016 Vets for Peace Remembrance for Memorial Day, 2016. This years event lasted over an hour and attracted what appeared to be about 150 people.


COMMENTS:
from Christine, sister-in-law of Francis (though he did not live long enough to attend her and his brothers wedding.) We were in Hawaii twice and each time visited Francis’ grave at the Punchbowl Cemetery [Honolulu]. It’s a beautiful well kept cemetery. Thanks for remembering.At the Memorial service in LaMoure they list all those who have died and read off the gold star mothers because Francis was so young when his mother died and Theresa the twin sister came to help raise the family they have also listed her as a gold star mother.
from long-time friend Annelee Woodstrom who lived under the Allied bombs in Germany at the end of WWII and has written about it. Annelee is 90 in September, and in the process of writing her third book. She speaks often to groups. I’m honored to know her and be a friend:
“Thanks for the moving memorial blog May 30th. I feel we need much more emphasis of Memorial Day—
I spoke at Oklee (MN), I always take the first call for me to speak for Memorial Day. This year I had four calls.
When the callers ask me what I charge for the Memorial Day Speech and say, “Nothing”, they always seem to be surprised.
Why would I charge to remember what our soldiers endured? My driver charges mileage, but that is his-her problem.
What disturbs me most almost every year is the absence of the young people. I know they graduated most likely the day before:
Before the [program] was almost done, I ask if I could speak again. I told them that this was NOT on the program, but it needed to be said:
I said that where ever I have spoken I notice the absence of young people.
I bring up the example that once I spoke in a metropolitan city — the band, matter of fact, many of the students, were present;
I commended the students for being present—the band director said that he threatened them to be there or they would not get a grade in music.
I told the listeners today (someone had mentioned my third book.) I said I have decided today that I would suggest for the schools to have graduation AFTER Memorial day —-I would ask the students and graduates to be present—after all, it is the soldiers that died made it possible for them to live in a democracy. They gave much more than a half a day, they gave their lives.
Let them think about that— the parents could also have an influence to get the young people there.
I got a standing ovation after that, would you believe it— Out of over 100 adults, only 2 11th grader’s were there— and they had been ask to sing.
QUESTION? WHEN WE ARE GONE, DO YOU THINK THE YOUNG PEOPLE WILL TAKE OVER AND CELEBRATE MEMORIAL DAY LIKE WE DID?”
from Mary: Always interesting that the human cost of war statistics count those who died…..let us also remember the impossible to count numbers of those who survive a death in any arena.
Response from Dick: A valid point, certainly. You’ll notice in the sheet the hi-lited section at the end of the sheet which attempts to cover all bases in a few words. I chose American death count for two reasons: 1) it is possible to get what seems to be reasonably consistent and reliable data; 2) the low number of American deaths in recent years, coupled by the tiny percentage of the population which actually serves in the military, makes it possible for us to become anesthesized to the true cost of war.
At today’s Vets for Peace observance (which I attend every year), there were a large number of individuals who remembered someone or other affected by their service to the nation. Easily the vast majority of those remembered came home in one piece, at least physically, but ultimately were brought down by causes such as suicide or addiction for which clear causality was what they experienced in war-time.
Perhaps fifteen minutes from the end of the observance three visitors approached me near where I was standing, and one of the women, in very broken English, seemed to be inquiring if it was okay to place their car in a nearby parking lot; the man apparently sensed my uncertainty with the language, and confirmed that was her question. They began talking with the older lady with them, and both their appearance, and their language quite certainly was Vietnamese.
I showed them the Veterans for Peace flag, and they looked more closely at it, and noted the website.
My guess is that most of the people in the group this day, including the organizer of the event, were Vietnam era veterans or their survivors. What a rich and meaningful conversation their could be if there was the time and the inclination to dialogue.
For years, now, there has been a “bottoms up” process of reconciliation going on – veterans returning to visit Vietnam, etc. My friend, Lynn Elling, and his wife, Donna, adopted a Vietnamese youngster, and Lynn and Tod went together to Vietnam in 2013.
There is progress. Political progress works best from the base up – politicians know this. Too bad more of us don’t realize the same.
from Lydia Howell: Thank you for trying to yet again reach out to the Strib—who, like all Corporate media, REFUSES to allow any anti-war voices. (I can’t remember the last time I saw an op-ed in a “major” newspaper or heard an anti-war voice included on tv/radio). Also: thanks for promoting VFP’s Memorial Day event. It seems to me that these “holidays”–today, Veterans’ Day & certainly the 4th of July—have all become times to CELEBRATE war, to use the war dead (at least the AMERICAN VETERAN war dead) to PROMOTE war. So, anything we can do as a “counter-weight” to the celebration is good.
Right now, I am reading a CRUCIAL book: WAR IS A LIE by David Swanson, who WAMM & VFP are bringing to speak SAT. JUNE 11, 6pm (includes potluck) at MACALESTER PLYMOUTH CHURCH, 1658 Lincoln Ave. Saint Paul. WAR IS A LIE exposes the long history of the American people being lied into war by their leaders—that’s right,. George W. Bush was NOT the first, by any measure. The book also exposes the pro-war arguments that are repeated endlessly & never challenged. Much food for thought & highly recommended. I hope to interview Swanson on my show FRI. JUNE 10 (9am) on KFAI Radio.
Chante Wolf May 30, 2016

Chante Wolf May 30, 2016


At Vets for Peace Memorial Day, St. Paul, May 30, 2016

At Vets for Peace Memorial Day, St. Paul, May 30, 2016

#967 – Dick Bernard: The Wallet, Pearl Harbor Day, 2014

NOTE: November 25, 2016: The Dec. 7, 2016, post will include a link to this post, and more information relating to the 75th anniversary of Pearl Harbor. Directly related post here.
PRE-NOTE: I have written often, here, about the death of my Uncle Frank, my Dad’s kid brother, on the USS Arizona at Pearl Harbor, and how there was an unexpected family reunion – one I attended, as a one year old – in Long Beach CA less than five months before he died. Here and here are two related posts about this.
Dec. 7, 2014, at Landmark Center in St. Paul, I shared a small part of my own family story at a commemoration of December 7, 1941. A summary of what I said follows below, at “Pearl Harbor, a Family Reunion”. More details can be read here: frank-bernard001
The Wallet.
A month ago a mystery envelope appeared in our mailbox – the small packet from Scottville MI was postmarked Nov. 6, 2014.
It was from a cousin of mine, and when I opened the envelope the content was an old leather wallet (photo below, click to enlarge all photos).

The Wallet, 2014

The Wallet, 2014


It was very fragile, this billfold (another name for wallet). I was curious.
There was no money, but plenty of paper, all of which I removed. The Identification card said the wallet belonged to Vincent Busch, Berlin, N. Dak. Vincent is my Uncle, who I’ve spent a lot of time with especially this past year. Below are the entire contents of the Wallet.
Busch Vince Wallet003
See “More about the wallet” following “Pearl Harbor, the Family Reunion”
PEARL HARBOR, THE FAMILY REUNION
(Click to enlarge)
The family members in the story are, at right: Richard, Henry and Esther Bernard.  From left, Henry and Josephine Bernard, Josie Whitaker, and Frank Bernard, Henry's parents and siblings, in Long Beach.

The family members in the story are, at right: Richard, Henry and Esther Bernard. From left, Henry and Josephine Bernard, Josie Whitaker, and Frank Bernard, Henry’s parents and siblings, in Long Beach.


Summary of remarks made at Landmark Center, Dec 7, 2014
I am one of very few Americans today who can honestly say they actually physically met one of those killed aboard the USS Arizona, Dec. 7, 1941. My last meeting with my Uncle Frank Bernard was at the end of June, 1941, five months before he died. I was one year old. I have the photo to prove it (above)!
The constellation of each and every victim that fateful Sunday, carry their own stories, in various ways.
Here’s some fragments of mine.
Frank served on the Arizona for six years. He was a shipfitter. Getting in the Navy was an accomplishment during the Depression. He seemed headed for a career in the Navy, but then there’s that letter he typed aboard the Arizona on “Nov 7 1941” (a Friday) where he asks his brothers advice: “I think I will get hitch to that little girl up in Washington she is a honey…what do you think of that…?
I don’t know when that letter arrived back in ND. Neither do I know where the letter was written. From 27-31 October 1941 the Arizona was dry-docked at Pearl Harbor, and subsequent records went down with the ship.
Then, there’s a family picture I have, taken in late June, 1941, at Long Beach CA, of the entire family – there were 7 at the time. On the back of the photo Grandmother later wrote “the first time we had our family together for seven years and also the last.” It says it all. (The reunion was a surprise. No one expected the Arizona to pay a call at San Pedro, just down the coast from Long Beach.)
Forty years later, in 1981, Dad wrote a long and comprehensive history of his life and gave it to me. Ten years later, I was preparing a book of memories to give him on the 50th anniversary of Pearl Harbor, and found in that history which he had written, not a single word about Pearl Harbor. This is how repressed memory works (or doesn’t work).
On the other hand, my parents next male child, born in Nov. 1945, was named Frank Peter, doubtless in memory of Dad’s brother.
I asked Dad about the missing memories. My folks had a battery operated radio but Dad recalled that on December 7 they were not listening to the radio. The first word of the bombing at Pearl Harbor was received when [a colleague teacher] returned …late in the afternoon.
“During the week following the attack it was first announced that John Grabinski, a sailor from Grafton and Frank’s friend, had been killed. It was only later in the week that it was learned that John Grabinski was safe, but that Frank Bernard had been killed aboard the Arizona.” (Mr. Grabinski lived into his mid-80s, much of his later years in Arizona.)
Of course, the early chaos brought no news of who had died. A high school student in Dad’s class recalled years later that “I don’t remember us ever talking about [Dad’s brother] losing his life from the Japanese attack.
The family did not get together, and to my knowledge there was no memorial service, or funeral. My grandparents, of Grafton ND, were in Long Beach; their daughter was in Los Angeles, and my parents were in rural North Dakota.
There was nothing much that could be done.
Many years later, a relative of mine found a very long article in the Grand Forks Herald of February 17, 1942, and sent it to me. It was about a North Dakota picnic in Los Angeles (in those days, state picnics were major events, attended, sometimes, by thousands). Reference was made to a talk by the Polish Consul in Los Angeles, in which he remembered “a young man of Polish descent at Pearl Harbor, the young man being a native of the Grafton area.
The article continued: “When he had finished reading a man and his wife arose in the audience, the man asking if he might interrupt for just a moment…the man said the report of that boy’s death later was found to be in error, but that the man actually killed at Pearl Harbor was the pal of the boy mentioned in the first report. “The boy killed,” said the man, “was our son!” The couple standing were Mr. and Mrs. Henry Bernard, long time residents of Grafton. The entire audience arose and stood in silence for a moment in honor of the dead hero and the parents who made the sacrifice.
There are no winners in war. Let us not forget.
Frank Bernard, Honolulu, some time before Dec. 7, 1941

Frank Bernard, Honolulu, some time before Dec. 7, 1941


…More about the 1941 Wallet
Busch Vince Wallet002
Busch Vince Wallet005
Finally, the rest of the contents spilled out. Here they are, speaking powerfully for themselves (look for and note, especially, the name Francis Long): Busch Vince Wallet004
I surmise that this wallet was a Christmas gift to Uncle Vince in 1940, probably from his parents (he would have been 15, then). The assorted photos and cards are classmates including his 12 year old brother, Art, a couple of nearby cousins, Anita and Melvin Berning, and other classmates from the Berlin High School. There were also some Gas Ration cards from WWII. There are two photos of Art, lower left of the four visible photos above, and at the top of the first pdf page.
Vince and Art shared a tiny little room in the farmhouse until Art graduated from high school in 1945. The winter heat source was the furnace chimney which came through their room. Bedrooms were for sleeping, period.
If I’m right, that the wallet was new in 1940, it was probably in Vincents pocket when the below picture was taken on Mother’s Day, 1941, at the farm.
Busch Bernard may 1941001
Vincent and Art and Anita and Melvin are the kids towards the right of the photo. Are left are Vince’s parents, my grandparents, Rosa and Ferd Busch; and interspersed are by parents Esther and Henry Bernard and my other Grandparents Josephine and Henry Bernard, down from their home in Grafton ND.
This was a peace-time photo, at least in the United States.
Seven months after this picture, December 7, 1941, the Bernards youngest son, and my Dad’s brother, Frank, went down with the USS Arizona at Pearl Harbor. We last saw him in late June in Long Beach, apparently a surprise visit as the Arizona was in port at nearby San Pedro. Every American instantly became a part of America and the World’s most deadly war, till now.
In the wallet, there’s the card for Francis Long, a neighbor and school mate of Vincent.
On Thanksgiving I showed Vince the wallet and its contents, and I also showed him parts of some of the many albums his family kept over the years.
In the collection was this photo:
Francis Long, probably spring or summer 1944.  He was apparently killed in action shortly after going on active duty.

Francis Long, probably spring or summer 1944. He was apparently killed in action shortly after going on active duty.


“Who’s that?” “Francis Long”, he said.
Francis went off to WWII. Apparently shortly after he went to the Pacific theatre, things went wrong. August 20, 1944, Grandma wrote a letter to another son, George Busch, a naval officer on a Destroyer in the Pacific Theatre, and said this: “Fri we had a memorial Mass for Francis Long killed July 2 on Saipan in action….” (This photo was developed by Brown Photo, Minneapols, Oct 5, 1944. In those years, few pictures were taken, and it often took a long while to finish off an 8 or 12 exposure roll.)
War is never a solution, but for some reason we persist in our insanity that it is possible to kill off our enemies, and thus achieve piece. We are all “enemies” to somebody, somewhere. Let’s change the conversation.