Facebook Twitter Pinterest Flickr Google+ YouTube Instagram
Written on: July 19th, 2009 by: in News
Two distant but related deaths resonated with me this week. One, a chronicler of wars, the other, a warrior.
Walter Cronkite, age 92 was seen as the most trusted man in America during his years of journalism. His coverage of the Vietnam War, and his declared perception that the situation was at a stalemate in 1968 is thought to have begun to swing U.S. public opinion away from supporting the war.
As you might imagine, Cronkite was a popular narrator for documentaries, particularly on historical subjects, including a documentary about the Vietnam War. His autobiography, A Reporter’s Life, is available from the Delaware Library Catalog for those who want to learn more about this remarkable man.
I was also amazed to learn more about Henry Allingham– who died this weekend, aged 113 years old, only a few short months after becoming England’s oldest man.
The First World War seems impossibly distant in time- five years short of a century past- so the thought that there are living witnesses to it is somehow staggering in one sense, yet tragic in another since they are now but a handful. Allingham was also the last survivor of the Battle of Jutland- the largest naval battle in history, with almost 9,000 lives lost, and one of the last confrontations between opposing fleets. The historical distance is brought vividly to life by the fact that a narrative of the battle was written by Rudyard Kipling.
In one sense, moments like this when the living witnesses to history are lost are reminders of what the gift and power of libraries has been over human history. Cronkite the man is lost to us, the memories of Allingham are no more, but we will preserve their narratives and their witness forever and their stories will remain a part of our collective memory and our understanding of our human existence. “Old men forget. Yet, all shall be forgot…”: but Shakespeare may have been wrong- civilizations don’t die unless their libraries are burned.
According to Wikipedia (and I tried to find another source of information, but nothing else was as easy to find and up-to-date), there are now only four living veterans out of the five million who served during the War. You can see the article and find out more about them here. Frank Buckles is the last Doughboy and Harry Patch is now the last living World War One veteran in England, and will be given a state funeral upon his death- Allingham had famously been asked his opinion about the plan to give the last veteran an official funeral, and had said of the plan “I don’t mind– as long as it’s not me.” It’s only fitting that after a lifetime of service and witness, he got his wish.