By Richard Tedesco
"Through their service, they made it possible for us to worship here today," he said. "We thank them this morning."
A group of 40 men, some middle-aged, most older, were assembled in the first six pews on the left side of the church, distinguished by their bright blue windbreakers emblazoned with "VFW 1582" on the left breast. They had weathered a Nor'easter to make the special memorial Mass, honoring members of the John J. Oliveri Veterans of Foreign Wars Post in Inwood who have completed their tours of duty here on earth.
What really distinguished this group was the service to their country they weathered through World War II, the Korean War and the Vietnam War.
The morning's gospel was the story of Jesus suddenly appearing among his disciples after he was crucified, proving his presence to one of them who doubted him. During his homily, Father Rahilly told his congregants that the idea of resurrection is at the core of Christian faith, particularly in a world where, as he put it, "Everything seems to be coming loose."
The veterans present at the memorial Mass have an acute sense of what it's like being in a world "coming loose." The post takes its name from Private First Class John J. Oliveri of Inwood, who was killed in action at the Battle of Tunisia in 1943.
Over breakfast at their post after Mass, some of the veterans recalled lost comrades and other wartime memories.
On this day of memorial, Bernie Pastor was remembering cold nights huddled in the Ardennes forest as member of the 63rd Infantry Division. And he was remembering a Mexican American GI named Herrera who learned about his new infant son in a letter from his wife - and took a round that ended his life two days later.
"You remember them every day," he said of those men who never came back.
The eggs at the breakfast reminded Jerry Killane of the powdered variety he ate while serving in the 68th Artillery Division in Korea. And he was remembering the cold in Korea, where troops lacked the same sort of winter weather gear that had made the Ardennes so memorable.
"I had to send home for boots," said Killane, whose mother answered his request six weeks later with fur-lined Air Force boots.
He remembered the three five-day R&R leaves he had in Tokyo: "I left some marks there." But above anything else, he remembered the camaraderie of the field infantry. "You were more close to your buddy than you were to your wife," he said.
Lodge commander Joe Squitieri had a distinctly different sort of memory from Vietnam, where he served in U.S. Army communications, relaying messages to the field 12 hours, seven days a week.
His unit was located near one of Vietnam's busiest helicopter airports near Ben Hua, and tried to provide relief to the local people as the war ground on between 1968 and 1971.
"Sometimes we helped an orphanage with a food drive," he said, and his unit gave toys to local children at Christmas.
During his opening remarks at the breakfast, Korean vet Vinnie Esposito recalled a bitter legacy of that war and Vietnam as he asked everyone to remember all those who served, the missing: "They are commonly called POW/MIAs. We call them brothers."
And over powdered eggs and pancakes and sausage and coffee, the veterans of three wars swapped stories and jibes and acted just the way you'd expect brothers to behave with each other. And they remembered all those other brothers who weren't there that morning for breakfast, but who were sitting among them all the same.
