The Vietnam veteran was there in his frayed military shirt, the one he wore 30 years ago. He had arrived in Vietnam 30 years ago just in time for the Tet Offensive. Drafted at 25, he left two children behind in the States.

Beside the veteran from the Korean Conflict was a hat with “Korea Veteran” on it. He had patrolled the roads and the trenches as part of the military police.

Richard Bootcheck, who fought in the Battle of the Bulge, sat with fellow World War II veteran Chet Janasiak.

A teacher and her young children stood quietly by. Jinny Przybylinski wanted Joe and Mary Ellen to know that the day is more than a holiday from school.

At 11 a.m. Wednesday, all were quiet as veterans and their families observed a moment of silence at the Veterans Day ceremony at the Frank and Edward Skwiat American Legion Post 451.

They came to honor both the living and the dead who have fought for their country. They remembered veterans from wars long ago as well as those who fought in the Gulf War, Grenada, Bosnia, and other battles across the world.

Speaker Bill Herrbach explained that the actions of those who served have enabled the country to employ fewer in the military today.

“The legacy that we leave is that my son and daughter did not have to join the service,” said the platoon leader and company commander during the Vietnam War.

The work that made the United States what it is, he explained, continues. Through volunteerism and dedication in their communities, he said, people can continue to show reverence to their country.

“There is no more fitting tribute we can give a veteran than to dedicate ourselves to a better tomorrow,” he said.

Bill Harris served in the military during the Korean Conflict. He comes to the Veterans Day services to honor others.

“You’ve got to show a little allegiance to your comrades,” he said.

He said that he has talked about the lighter moments of his military service. He’s told such stories as when he and buddies traded beer with the Filipinos to get a stronger brew. He does not talk, though, about firing a machine gun.

“Maybe it’s a mental block, but you don’t want to go back to those things,” he said.

“It was a long time before I could even read any of the books written on the Korean War,” Harris continued.

He remembers 10 p.m. July 27, 1953, when the firing ended.

“The total silence was almost worse than the artillery fire,” he said.

Harris wonders still about those who never came back from Korea. He said there were more than 8,000 men missing in action.

“And nobody seems to know what happened to them, so everything’s in limbo,” he said.