Ribbons of remembrance in Woodside

In the heart of Woodside, the home of Saint Sebastians Post 870 of the Catholic War Veterans stands in the shadow of elevated tracks at the intersection of the No. 7 train and the Long Island Rail Road mainline.
A single display window shines forth from the austere-looking blue brick and stucco structure on 61st Street, just north of Roosevelt Avenue.
The painted backdrop of a U.S. flag is adorned with service emblems and a photo of their most distinguished member, Vietnam veteran and Medal of Honor recipient Robert O’Malley, with a friend.
Spread beneath are frames holding military medals contributed by members. Among these are most of the awards this country gives as recognition for valor and service.
These are the awards represented by the “bits of ribbon” military personnel usually wear over their left breast, which mean nothing to most people, but tell the wearer’s military biography.
Inside, there is a high-ceilinged great room, behind which is nestled the bar, kitchen, office and a back room with the pool table. The walls are adorned with military-themed posters.
In a corner, under a statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary, is a plaque bearing the names of 223 members (and one non-member) who have passed on.
The place vibrates when a train goes by and the noise from above can be bone-jarring; the veterans inside barely notice, as they sit with their drinks watching a football game on TV. They’ve gotten used to it - and lots worse in their time.
Post Commander Gerald (Jerry) Olt made introductions and pointed out some of the names on the plaque, including Charlotte Quirk, who had been an Army nurse in World War I.
The members are graying. Some, like John McCaffrey, who is actually a member of a post in Jackson Heights but a regular here, served in World War II or Korea. Most of the rest are Vietnam veterans.
“The younger vets don’t seem interested in joining,” Olt lamented. “For every one new member, we lose 10,” he said, gesturing toward the plaque.
Olt is careful to explain that he is a “Vietnam-era” veteran - his ship never entered the combat zone. Veterans often feel the need for such distinctions, especially when they rub elbows with Medal of Honor recipients. Of the 854 awards since the beginning of World War II, 528 have been posthumous.
Woodside holds the distinction of being the home of the two Queens residents among 243 winners of the nation’s highest decoration during the Vietnam War.
O’Malley was something of a “regular” although he hadn’t been there that day, Olt explained. The other, Marine Lance Corporal Thomas Noonan, was mortally wounded while attempting to rescue another Marine.
“But look at this,” Olt said, producing a photocopy of a magazine article showing a faded photo of children in a kindergarten classroom.
Standing in the background, second from the left is little Bobby O’Malley. Seated in the foreground just to his right is an equally cherubic-looking Tommy Noonan.
When informed that the medic who first reached Noonan on the battlefield (and was also wounded) was recently retrieved from a pauper’s grave and buried with military honors by the local chapter of the Vietnam Veterans Association, Olt straightened perceptibly. “Good,” he said, “good for them.”
At that moment, a package arrived from the nearby Immaculate Conception School in Astoria. Inside were handmade cards from the first grade class, who were learning about Veterans Day, according to a note from the teachers.
Olt and McCaffrey spread the cards upon a table, visibly moved. “This is so important, that they’re teaching more about our history,” Olt said, as McCaffrey added, “The kids need to appreciate how much was sacrificed.”
Then the post commander took these works by children just out of kindergarten, to place them in the window, along with their other honors. It was Monday, November 10, and passersby might pause to see them the next morning.