With the highest per capita ratio of veterans in the state of Maine -- a state with a legacy of mustering among the highest per capita number of soldiers -- Washington County families are well familiar with the cost of war. Even when the sacrifice is the highest that a soldier and their family may give, it is one that is often assumed without complaint to preserve the principles of the United States. The impact of conflict and the resiliency of its survivors were in full evidence on Friday, September 16, when veterans and their families gathered at the Calais Fire/Police Station for National POW/MIA Recognition Day.
    "Today, there are 83,000 Americans listed as missing and unaccounted for from our nation's wars, going back to the beginning of World War II," former VFW State Commander Kevin Woodward said at the ceremony. "That's 83,000 military and civilian men and women, mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters and sons and daughters."
     Woodward somberly recounted the figures of casualties from each war. In World War II, which ended 71 years ago this month, and in which a nation of 133 million put 16 million into uniform "to help save the world from tyranny," 400,000 Americans were killed and 73,000 continue to be missing. Just five years later, the Korean War began, causing the deaths of 35,000 soldiers, the imprisonment of 7,100 POWs, and the loss of 7,800 MIA, 45 of which are from Maine. The numbers from Vietnam continue to stagger: 58,000 dead, 600 POWs and 2,500 MIA, 14 from Maine.
     What these numbers don't tell is the personal stories of the soldiers and their families. For Jim and Dorothy "Dolly" Sullivan, who recently moved back to Alexander, the story of war is one that extends within their family for generations. Sullivan's father was taken prisoner while serving in the 1st Infantry Division -- known as the Big Red One -- in World War II. Her husband happened to serve in the same division in a later conflict. Their only son, Christopher, would later reach the rank of captain from his start in Big Red One C the rank he bears now in death, having lost his life in Baghdad on June 18, 2005.
     "He had been in operations 10 days until his death," Sullivan recalls. "They finally gave him command." A call had come in to investigate a bridge; it was trapped with an improvised explosive device (IED). Though he was wearing a flak jacket, the metal from the IED came up through the bottom of the vehicle and thus entered under his jacket. "He didn't stand a chance."
     After his death, the Sullivans learned of their son's role in Operation Iraqi Freedom earlier that year. "He set up security for 325 public polling places," Sullivan says. "They want us to think we're over there killing everybody. We aren't."
     The public perception of soldiers and veterans remains a challenge for the individuals involved. Woodward described one mission of the VFW and Wreaths Across America is raising awareness of how, for many families, "the passage of time does not heal their wounds."
     "It makes me angry," Vietnam veteran Vic Voisine said after finishing a shift standing next to the POW/MIA flag. "People don't even know what it is anymore," he says of the reaction some members of the public were giving at previous ceremonies. "I wish more people would recognize what's going on."
     Voisine, who now lives in Eastport, bears his own aching uncertainty related to a friend he bonded with during his time in Vietnam. "No matter how hard I try, I can't remember his name."    The shock of being in combat has made the memory irretrievable. "I try to think of it, and my mind just shuts off. I don't know if he's living or dead."
     In memory of soldiers and loved ones named and nameless, roses for each branch of service were placed atop a white table. "Taps" filled the air as traffic passed by, occasionally heeded by the need to pause, wonder and reflect on how, as Woodward put it, "the costs of war extend far beyond the last shots being fired."