‘Iron Men’ get their monument in Georgia

Yes, the decades have passed, and most of those iron men are no longer with us.

Yes, they vanquished that tyrant. And yet…

Tyrants walk among us still. We will always need people of iron to deal with them.

Past and present merged Saturday at Georgia's Fort Benning. Les Hommes De Fer De Metz were honored with a memorial recalling a bloody November 71 years ago, when the 95th Infantry Division liberated a pocket of France. They were the Iron Men of Metz.

At the National Infantry Museum's Memorial Walk of Honor, a sprawling green dotted with monuments to other soldiers, other battles, 13 old infantrymen gathered. They came with friends and family to commemorate their own monument: a granite eagle, wings folded, resting atop a gleaming black pedestal. It is comparable to the original monument, erected in Metz after the 95th freed the city from Nazi control.

Stephen Jamison, wounded Nov. 29, 1944, rested an old hand on a cane Saturday. He peered over some battered bifocals at the stone bird. Seventy-one years ago, he was a scout, “snooping around” a dangerous terrain.

“Oh, it’s nice,” said Jaminson, 92, who made a career building New Jersey highways after mustering out of the Army. “I like it.”

It is a reminder of a campaign in which soldiers fought mud and cold, battled fatigue and fear — and then took the fight to the Nazis. One German officer, whom 95th forces took captive, called his American adversaries “men of iron.” And so his words have lasted, and become part of the landscape here.

The monument also is a reminder that terror, whether wrapped in a Nazi flag or hiding behind a holy book, never rests. The recent terror attacks in Paris are proof that freedom still has enemies, said retired Major Gen. James Archer, a former 95th commanding officer.

“There’s a lot of evidence that human nature hasn’t changed,” said Archer. “Freedom’s always going to be contested.”

Freedom is a gift the 95th bestowed on Metz, said Francoise Leclercq. She and her husband, Pierre, came from Metz to Geor gia for Saturday’s celebration. Every November, she pauses to remember those strangers in olive drab who put terror to flight — at a heavy cost. The 95th suffered more than 6,500 casulties.

“These guys” — Leclercq nodded toward the old soldiers — “really sacrificed for us to be free. They are like family: like our father; we are their children.

“We are so grateful they came.”

So many were farm boys, kids who'd never traveled, said Shirley Sessions of Carrolton. Her husband, Eddie, was one. His story was the focus of "The replacement soldier," a Personal Journey story that appeared two years ago in the Atlanta Journal-Constitution. He died last year.

Like so many veterans, he didn’t say much about his role in the war until his later years, Sessions’ widow said. She wishes he’d said more.

Now, she stays connected with her husband when old soldiers gather, and remember. She pointed at an old man whose liver-spotted hands grasped a walker. “They are tough,” she said. “Really tough guys.”

There were times when Floyd Shaffer didn’t feel so tough. Like Pvt. Sessions, he was a replacement soldier, 18 and scared stiff. The other guys called him “Kid” — still do, in fact. He’s 90, a retired refrigeration specialist from Iowa.

“The Army thought they were getting a man. Instead they got a kid,” Shaffer said. He flicked a quick look at his old soldier pals, and shrugged.

“Here I am, still here,” he said. “I lost a lot of friends over there.”

Every guy who picked up a rifle lost someone, said Ceo Bauer. A native of Michigan, he was another scared private, marching on Metz, when he was wounded. He recovered physically, but still suffers the sort of injuries time cannot heal.

“We lost a lot of good people over there,” said Bauer, one of three speakers. Bauer paused, remembering: Kelly. Coleman. Lt. Calvert. They shared jokes, smokes, fears. “The list goes on and on.”

But ceremonies do not. A prayer wound up the hour-long commemoration. A bugler played taps, those forlorn notes rising in the wind. In the distance, a heavy airplane struggled aloft. The sun, which had been fighting a losing battle with the clouds, suddenly shouldered its way past a gray patch.