Last night my family and I watched Saving Private Ryan together.  My kids are older - I wouldn’t recommend the film for younger children.  It is gritty, coarse, extremely violent and full of profane language.  It is also the most realistic and gripping depiction of World War II ever made. 

The ending scenes of the film never fail to bring tears to my eyes because it captures the essence of my father’s generation and how they viewed the defining event of their times.  Captain John Miller (Tom Hanks) lies dying on the bridge they were attempting to hold.  Most of his squad whose mission it was to find and extract Private James Ryan (Matt Damon) are already dead.  Miller pulls Ryan to him and whispers in his ear a challenge and a commission: “James… earn it.  Earn this.”  A close up of Private Ryan morphs into Ryan 50 years later standing at the grave of Captain Miller.  Tearfully, he says to his wife “Tell me I’m a good man… that I’ve led a good life.”  Mrs. Ryan answers him somewhat dismissively: “Of course you are.”  She doesn’t realize that the challenge given to him by the man who saved his life has haunted him ever since, driving him to make his life worthy of the sacrifice given to save him.

Ryan then kneels at Miller’s tombstone and says:

My family is with me today. They wanted to come with me. To be honest with you, I wasn’t sure how I’d feel coming back here. Every day I think about what you said to me that day on the bridge. And I’ve tried to live my life the best I could. I hope that was enough. I hope that at least in your eyes, I’ve earned what all of you have done for me.

Ryan then stands, comes to attention, and salutes Captain Miller.

As powerful as that scene is, a different one stood out to me last night.  Throughout much of the film, Captain Miller kept his prewar occupation and hometown a closely guarded secret.  The squad even has a betting pool on it.  After watching one of their own die, the squad is about to come apart at the seams.  In the midst of all this, Miller blurts out the truth to his men:

I’m a school teacher. I teach English Composition in this little town called Addley, Pennsylvania. The last eleven years, I’ve been at Thomas Alva Edison High School. I was coach of the baseball team in the spring time. Back home when I tell people what I do for a living, they think, well, that, that figures. But over here its a big, a big mystery. So I guess I’ve changed some. Sometimes I wonder if I’ve changed so much my wife is even gonna to recognize me whenever it is I get back to her — and how I’ll ever be able to tell her about days like today. Ryan… I don’t know anything about Ryan. I don’t care. Man means nothin’ to me. It’s just a name. But if — you know — if going to Ramel and finding him so he can go home, if that earns me the right to get back to my wife — well, then, then that’s my mission.

That scene also captures a lot about the so-called “Greatest Generation.”  By and large, they weren’t professional soldiers.  They were teachers, plumbers, office workers, or factory workers.  They literally saved the world, then they returned home and most of them never spoke about what they saw and did “over there.”

Today we honor our veterans, and we acknowledge that we owe them, as Chuck Colson said in a recent Breakpoint Commentary, a debt that cannot be repaid.  We owe our freedom to you.  We owe our way of life to you.  We are in awe of your sacrifice, your dedication and your courage.

Thank you.