By Laura McPhail/ Daily Times Leader

“The war to end all wars”  was the nickname given to World War I because after it was all over and the destruction and devastation totals were being added up, it seemed that there was absolutely no way that any other war could ever come close to the losses incurred by what was dubbed “The Great War.”

WWI ended at the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month of 1918.  One year later, President Woodrow Wilson declared the anniversary “Armistice Day” and WWI veterans everywhere were remembered and honored.

Unfortunately, WWI was not the war to end all wars.

In the early afternoon of December 7, 1941, life was going on in the typical, laid-back fashion of north Mississippi.  People were still feeling the effects of the Great Depression and thus worked hard for every penny they could save, but they also enjoyed the opportunity to take a few moments to enjoy time with family, friends and neighbors.  Everything suddenly changed that afternoon when radio broadcasts were interrupted to bring news of a Japanese attack at a naval base in Pearl Harbor, Hawaii.

Even though Hawaii seemed just as far away from as the war that had been raging for the previous two years in Europe, Africa and Asia, Americans everywhere felt a sense of intense rage that an unprovoked attack—even one as far away as Hawaii--had come to the U.S.  The next day, the U.S. officially declared war on Japan and thus joined the massive efforts of WWII.

Mississippians were not immune to the sense of obligation that came over the nation’s young men and women to help defend the country.  Boys barely out of high school rushed to volunteer for military service while mothers, sisters, wives and girlfriends offered to take up the cause in the work force. 

In 1954, President Dwight Eisenhower and Congress worked to changed Armistice Day to Veteran’s Day—a day that would honor all veterans, not just those of WWI.  November 11 has been known as Veteran’s Day ever since.

There are countless numbers of proud Mississippians that have served the nation by sacrificing their time, effort, family life and, sometimes, even their lives.  At 11:00 a.m. Wednesday, November 11, 2009, the mayor of the city of West Point will honor two of its own residents that volunteered to serve at the onset of WWII during a ceremony held at City Hall.

Dr. Tom Braddock, 85, is one of these men.  This gentle man with a pleasant smile and unassuming manner sits in his arm chair in his warm and inviting living room.  Scores of recent birthday cards are carefully organized on the coffee table and his loving wife of 30 years, Martha, picks through articles and clippings written about her husband over the years. 

When asked how he feels about being honored by the city, Braddock simply says, “I feel honored, but not deserving compared to others that were also serving.  My part was small.”

Braddock voluntarily joined the Navy in 1941 just after he turned 17. He was living as a freshman at Mississippi College where he was studying to become a Baptist minister.  Braddock enlisted as a midshipman and was sent to the University of Notre Dame to continue his education and garner a commission in the Navy.  Ensign Braddock eventually became Lieutenant Braddock and served as a line officer in the Navy’s Amphibious Forces.

After extensive stateside training, Braddock was sent to the South Pacific for almost a year where he helped move troops and supplies to the front lines.  During his service he saw many areas including Guam, Sai Pan and Okinawa.  After V-J Day, Braddock helped transport over 500 Japanese prisoners from the island of Truk to Yokihama in Japan. 

Braddock cites having good food and a bed to sleep in every night as perks of being in the military.  He says, without even an ounce of pretention, that even though American ships in the Pacific were constantly subject to being fired upon, he “really enjoyed being in the military and had a very easy time compared to others.”

Braddock served in the Navy until 1946 and in the years following the end of WWII, he finished medical school in Memphis in 1950 and then moved to West Point in 1951 to practice medicine.  As an OB/Gyn, Braddock continued to heal and touch lives for 57 years until he retired just last year.  He estimates that he has delivered almost 5000 babies during his career, but is now enjoying retirement and a slower pace.

Coincidentally, Dr. Braddock’s long-time good friend of 57 years, Dr. Gordon Hazard, 86, is the other veteran to be honored at City Hall on Wednesday.  The two men share the same birthday, but Braddock is quick to point out (with a gleam in his eye) that Hazard is one year older.  These two veterans share more than just a birthday, but also the shared experience of living in danger on behalf of the country they love.

Hazard leans forward in his chair and hands over a copy of his book, World War II, As I Remember.  The volume is filled with personal narrative of experiences in conditions that one can hardly imagine having to endure as well as photos and letters written by Hazard to friends and family back home.  The letters are filled with lies and vague, happy comments lovingly sent to keep people back home from worrying about him.  Hazard paints a different picture while sitting in the comfort of his tasteful home with his devoted wife of 62 years, Sara Stevens Hazard, sitting across from him.

Hazard volunteered to join the Army Infantry in 1942, at the age of 18, while attending Mississippi State University and participating in the ROTC program mandated at the time for all freshmen and sophomore males.  Well before the end of the ROTC program, Hazard and his classmates were sent to Camp Shelby and later to Fort McClellan for Infantry training as privates.  After more extensive training, Hazard was eventually sent to Officer Candidate School at Fort Benning, where he was awarded a commission in the Army.

Soon thereafter, Hazard boarded the Ile de France with 15,000 other troops and joined the forces fighting in France, Belgium, Holland and Germany.  He served as a replacement officer (eventually attaining the rank of Major), operating as a platoon leader and often taking command of whole companies.  At the time, the average time spent as a company commander was 17 days, largely in part due to the mortality rate of company officer; Hazard served through four whole campaigns. 

When asked what the most memorable aspect of serving in the European front line was, Hazard matter-of-factly replies, “Coming out alive.”

Hazard remembers times he and his men would go as long as four weeks without a hot meal, a change of clothes, roofs over their heads, shaves or haircuts.  “All we did was just fight,” he says.  But even though the conditions were often miserable, he contends that there wasn’t anything about serving in the military that he disliked. 

Hazard cites the camaraderie with his soldiers as the best part of being in the Army.  He has near perfect recall of names of friends that have long since passed away, many times in front of his eyes, in places far away from home and family and his voice catches every now and then while telling stories of his friends and loyal soldiers.  “I’m not a sentimental man,” he says as he smiles sadly, “but those were great guys.”

After his separation from the Army on September 10, 1945, Hazard returned to West Point where he farmed for a year before attending Auburn University for four years to receive a degree in veterinary medicine.  He returned to service during the Korean War and then later joined the National Guard until he retired.  Simultaneously, he owned and operated Hazard Clinic (a large animal veterinary practice) from 1951-1978 as well as becoming a respected cattleman, lecturer and author.

Another thing that Hazard and Braddock share is an innate modesty about service that they say more or less came naturally.  When asked what it means to him to be honored by the city on Veteran’s Day, Hazard says that he appreciates it, but he “realizes that millions of people were doing the same thing that just as easily could have been recognized.”

“We never thought of ourselves as heroes.  We were just doing our jobs,” said Hazard.

Braddock and Hazard are right; many different men and women could have been chosen by the city of West Point to be honored for their military service.  However, one could never agree with either of these men that they are any less deserving of the recognition.  Their humility in regards to selflessly volunteering to put themselves in harm’s way on behalf of their country is just another trait of veterans everywhere, past and present, alive and deceased, that they represent with dignity and grace.