Nation salutes WWII veterans

WASHINGTON — Nearly 60 years after the guns fell silent, the nation Saturday saluted 16 million ordinary Americans who stopped a storm of tyranny and changed the world.

The official dedication of the World War II Memorial, 17 years in coming, was the centerpiece of a day of pomp and grand gestures, small tributes and choked back tears.

Three presidents, movie stars, lawmakers, military brass and leaders from countries defeated by America and her allies hailed the thousands of veterans of "The Big One" and their families assembled at the afternoon ceremony, and millions more not able to attend.

Forever more, the speakers said, their sacrifices and their uncomplaining willingness to make them would be remembered. At an unimaginable cost — 405,400 GIs dead, 670,000 wounded — the 16.4 million U.S. soldiers saved Europe and the Pacific from the grip of tyrants and fanatics bent on stomping freedom from the map.

"Because of their sacrifice, tyrants fell, fascism and Nazism were vanquished, and freedom prevailed," President Bush said. Arrayed behind him were his World War II vet father, former Presidents George H.W. Bush, and President Bill Clinton, who signed a 1993 measure authorizing the monument.

Those assembled on the National Mall dabbed their eyes at such sentiments, tapped their toes to the marches played by military bands, applauded the ceremonial flyover of Air Force jets, and rose, some shakily, to sing the national anthem with obvious feeling.

As if in deference to their age, Washington's recent punishing heat broke for the day and a gentle sun highlighted the fields of white hair and colorful veteran's caps of those assembled on the National Mall. In the face of the government's warning earlier in the week that the event might prove tempting to terrorists, security was strict. But all proved peaceful.

Concerns about the physical and emotional strains the event might place on fragile octogenarians led to the deployment of paramedics on bicycles with defibrillators on their backs, psychiatric social workers and missing-person detectives to tend to those needing help. An estimated 2,500 of those with tickets for the ceremony came in wheelchairs, 1,740 with canes, and 39 with oxygen tanks.

Far fewer than the estimated 200,000 folks organizers believed were going to attend actually did. Scores of reserved seats sat empty.

By all accounts, those who did make it, many of whom were accompanied by their graying baby boomer children, managed just fine.