National monuments can’t teach us history but can help us remember it. Sometimes it’s a personal history, like a private tribute to late Boyne Merritt of Ava at the Korean Memorial.

The Vietnam Wall is black granite and raw pain but a necessary stop for many Honor Flight escorts.

“I lost about 100 people and still have nightmares,” said Gene Crites, an Honor Flight escort.

“So you see their faces?” a reporter asked.

“Yes.”

Nearby is the World War 2 Memorial. Its circular design is said to stand for the unity of the nation in sending 16 million young Americans into battle around the globe.

Even on a perfect autumn day, however, there is an overshadowing. Not all who come here find peace with unforgiving death.

“People have no idea of what we did; young people have no appreciation,” said Dale Beckman, an Air Force veteran.

Beckham spent straight four years in Europe, helping keep U.S. warplanes flying through some of the worst battles.

“Nobody said, ‘Thank you,’ ‘Go to hell,’ or ‘Kiss my ass,’” said Beckham.

The last stop on every Honor Flight is Arlington National Cemetery. This is the most sacred and hallowed ground in Washington D.C. and the inspiration for a military chaplain who said, “It is not the politician or the poet or the philosopher or protestor who ensures freedom for the rest of us; it the veteran, only the veteran.”

Many World War 2 survivors say witnessing the silent and solemn changing of the guard at the Tomb of the Unknowns speaks to them most.

“Today was unbelievable. I think every veteran should see this; it’s just unreal,” said World War 2 veteran Walter Keaton.

They were moments to remember, moments to reflect, moments of respect.