Ninety-two years ago today, at eleven in the morning, a silence that had not been for four long years fell over the battlefields of France. A young private of the Field Artillery, whose unit had been preparing to move to the front, never forgot that day. He always called it "Armistice Day", which is what it was for many years.

He was one of a generation that never, ever failed to render the proper honors when the flag went past. He was highly respectful of military, especially the officers, but was not in awe of them. He told one general officer, "You're the second general I've ever shaken hands with." When the general asked him who the first was, he replied, "Black Jack Pershing!"

From what I can find, there is only one remaining U.S. veteran of that war.

The one I've written about above was laid to rest on November 26, 1975; which also happened to be his thirty-third wedding anniversary. Honors were rendered by members of his Veterans of WWI post as his son stood by in the Army uniform that his Dad loved so much.