Visiting
the World War II Memorial, May 2004
By Maine Senator Neria Douglass
Washington, DC--My visit to the World War II Memorial
was grand and memorable. Walking from the Washington
Monument with a large family group, we entered a plaza
filled with people: children running; elders using
wheelchairs and walkers; middle-agers with parents
and teens. In the chaos of the crowd, I was suddenly
alone next to a series of bronze relief plaques in
a granite wall.
The first was
a farm kitchen with family surrounding a young man
reading a letter, radio at hand, newspapers opened.
Next was the army physical: shirtless young men in
line, one on a scale, a doctor listening to another
with a stethoscope. Left, Douglass
Following were the young men in uniforms, loaded with
duffle bags and packs, moving up the gangplank to
a hole in the side of a ship so large that no other
part was visible.
Then the young soldiers were marching through a field,
helmets on, guns ready. Several subsequent plaques
were not yet installed.
But I was already transported to the time and place
of World War II, engaged in an individual and personal
way with the soldiers depicted in bronze.
Looking up, I saw before me a vast oval space anchored
on the left by a monumental vertical pavilion engraved
"Atlantic," and on the far right, by a matching
one labeled "Pacific." Circling the space
and linking the two were tall columns bearing wreaths,
engraved with the names of our states and territories.
A balcony projected out from the Atlantic and Pacific
monuments. Workmen were still laboring over parts
of the central space which would soon be a reflecting
pool and fountain. As I walked down some steps to
the oval, I felt small and overwhelmed by the distance
to the Pacific side.
But nearer at hand was the Atlantic. As I made my
way there I spied the pillar for Maine.
The Atlantic balcony rises up, before its own reflecting
pool. Getting there was a good walk. Going across
the oval, you walk up a ramp that hugs one-quarter
of the columns; and you rise to the Atlantic monument.
From the balcony, you can see people on the Pacific
balcony, but you can't make out their faces.
The scale of the place emphasizes the enormous undertaking
of World War II. I was in awe from the size of the
place, reminding me of the huge endeavor upon which
our nation embarked in fighting across the world.
I found myself remembering how distant the European
theater was from the Pacific. I thought of the many
small efforts of individuals working to help. My mother
was a teenager who peeled tin from chewing gum wrappers,
and many planted victory gardens for the war effort.
Together they helped us rise to victory like the ramp
I had just scaled.
Just then my family stepped from an outer walkway
into the Atlantic pavilion. I wondered if my separation
from loved ones and the distance crossed to find them
was an intentional part of the design. Perhaps I will
find out on my next visit. The World War II Memorial
is definitely worth seeing more than once.
a farm kitchen with family surrounding a young man
reading a letter, radio at hand, newspapers opened.