Guys like George Wahlen weren't the exception; they were the rule.

The war simply identified them.

In Gary Toyn's fine biography of George Wahlen, "The Quiet Hero," published in 2006, Toyn tells of a teenage Wahlen who played football at Weber High School.

Not very big and not very tall, Wahlen came into his senior season in 1941 hoping to finally get some playing time, but after not getting into either of the first two games, he walked into the coaches' office with his unsoiled uniform and said, "Here, take this and give it to somebody you'll let play."

Nowadays, we might be tempted to label the 17-year-old a quitter who would never amount to anything. But just weeks later, the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor and America entered World War II.

Wahlen enlisted in the Navy and got another clean uniform.

It stayed clean until Feb. 19, 1945, when he waded ashore at Iwo Jima. The next 13 days identified his character and defined his life.

He never got comfortable being called a hero, he told me that day at his home. He assured me he didn't do anything any of his buddies wouldn't have done for him, and he didn't think he should receive any more attention than the next guy.

After our interview, I walked to my car and took note of George's car parked in the driveway. It was a Japanese-made Honda. The war, I remember thinking, had clearly ended long ago for George Wahlen.

Lee Benson's column runs Monday, Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. Please send e-mail to benson@desnews.com