War Stories: Never Forget

This story originally appeared on Redondo Beach Patch, but we thought our readers would also enjoy the article as we remember our nation's heroes on Veterans Day.

I met Donald Dinubilo at the VFW Hall in Redondo Beach. I introduced myself, and asked if I could buy him a drink and interview him about Veterans Day. He smiled, shook my hand firmly and said, "How about I buy you a drink?"

Donald and I sat in the VFW amid the sounds of clacking pool balls and pouring drinks. It was 3 in the afternoon on Wednesday. He nursed a can of beer as I sipped the whiskey that he bought me, and then we talked about the war.

The Redondo veteran, who comes from a military family, served in Vietnam as an MP (military police officer) from 1966 to 1967.  He joined the army when he was 17 years old. 

"From WWII to Iraq, there has been a Dinubilo in every war," he said proudly. He was one of few Army members who got to serve alongside a brother, which the siblings did in Phan Rang, Vietnam.

"My mother wanted us together, because she knew that if we were together we would look out for one another," he said.

When Donald returned home, he found that his mother had hung a map of Vietnam on the wall. On the map were pushpins that marked everywhere in the country that the brothers had been.

Each Veterans Day is seemingly another pushpin on the map, charting where we have been as a country. What we have gained and what we have lost.

While I was talking with Donald, I became keenly aware of being a civilian. I could understand only the sterile history book facts of a war or the glamorized Hollywood affectation, but nothing would get me any closer to the truth than pins on a map. All I could hope for was an idea of the territory.

"Veterans Day is all about our warriors, but you can't understand where they've been unless you've been there yourself," Donald said as he gazed complacently around the bar.

There was no pretense to what he was saying, just simple fact. We can't truly comprehend the effect of any war without being in the battle ourselves. In Donald's estimation, Veterans Day is not about paying lip service to patriotism or to feigning understanding of our GIs; it is a day for remembrance. Nothing more and nothing less.

"I want the general population to remember," he said. "Those that fought don't need to remember, they live with it every day. All civilians need to do is show respect. Wave a flag. See a monument. If you disagree with the war, that's fine, it's your choice to do so; we fought for that."

As our country enters a seemingly endless string of morally and politically ambiguous conflicts, for some the celebration of Veterans Day means little more than a day off of work with patriotic films played on television. For the soldiers among us, it is a day to remember their own sacrifice and the sacrifice of those who didn't make it home.

Donald got quiet at one point. He stared blankly at the rim of his beer as if searching for the perfect way to put it. "You have to survive," he said, pointing to his heart.

It is clear that Donald survived the war. He went on to become an engineer, have a family and settle in the South Bay. Donald knows his fortune to have survived the war and he knows that many weren't as fortunate. Thursday, Donald is going to the unveiling of a monument in Veterans Park. There, joined by his fellow servicemen and women, he is going to remember the soldiers that could not be there.

As we finished our drinks, Donald shook my hand and firmly said, "Thanks for listening."