Trump's Latest World War II Commemoration Undermines the Sacrifices of Veterans -- Editorial
By overlooking the thousands who perished in the Pacific, Trump diminishes historical accuracy and robs us of essential lessons that we must recognize.
TroibNews 
In May 1945, spring had only just begun to settle in at the isolated prison in Manchuria, where the Japanese held their most esteemed American captive, Army General Jonathan Mayhew Wainwright IV. For three long years, Wainwright had endured severe beatings, starvation, and frigid temperatures as low as minus 49 degrees after he surrendered the Philippines, fearing the massacre of his remaining troops. The pain from an old lower back injury, exacerbated during the second week of May, became so overwhelming that he feared he might not survive what he believed could be at least two more winters of war.
The news of Germany’s surrender that same week never reached Wainwright; even if it had, it wouldn’t have alleviated his suffering. "If this keeps up, I know I can’t survive. Thin and weak as I am and no proper food, I doubt if I can endure this pain for any long period of time,” he recorded in his diary on June 19, more than a month later.
Wainwright’s prison diary, preserved at an Army archive in Carlisle, Pennsylvania, starkly contrasts with President Trump’s recent initiative to rename Victory in Europe Day—celebrating Germany's surrender on May 8—as “Victory Day for World War II.” As well-known historical facts indicate, World War II did not conclude until Japan surrendered four months later, following two atomic bombings.
The president claims this rebranding is essential because Americans have lost touch with their history. “We never celebrate anything,” he stated on the social media platform Truth Social. “That’s because we don’t have leaders anymore, that know how to do so!” However, his proclamation for the new holiday fails to acknowledge the war in the Pacific or the more than one hundred thousand Americans who perished in that theater.
If this is the “patriotism” the president aims to revive in history classes, he has fundamentally misunderstood the concept. By rushing to the narrative of ultimate victory, Trump does not honor America's accomplishments but rather diminishes their significance.
In stark contrast, Truman, Trump’s predecessor, understood that Americans should commemoratively engage with the actual V-E Day by recommitting to achieving victory in the Pacific. “We can repay the debt which we owe to our God, to our dead, and to our children, only by work, by ceaseless devotion to the responsibilities which lie ahead of us,” Truman articulated. “If I could give you a single watchword for the coming months, that word is work, work, and more work. We must work to finish the war. Our victory is only half over.”
To prematurely celebrate America’s final victory in this monumental conflict is to disregard the sacrifices made by those who answered Truman’s call: the soldiers still fighting for Okinawa; the servicemen preparing to redeploy from Europe to the Pacific; the generals strategizing a substantial invasion of Japan’s main islands, Kyushu in the fall of 1945 and Honshu in early 1946; and the policymakers pondering the tens of thousands of additional American lives that might be lost in these operations, alongside the scientists racing to test an atomic bomb that could alter all calculations by compelling an enemy that had refused to surrender to do just that.
Wainwright and his fellow prisoners of war had only the scantest information from their guards in Manchuria, with no letters, newspapers, or outside communication. Yet, he did his best to project when the war might conclude and estimated it would not be before 1947.
By June 1945, he harbored substantial doubts about his chances of survival. The pain from his lower back injury had intensified to the degree that he could neither sit up nor sleep well. “It is very bad, and seems to get worse,” he wrote.
While someone unfamiliar with desperate circumstances might have succumbed to despair, Wainwright was made of sterner stuff. When General Douglas MacArthur received orders to escape the Philippines after the Japanese invasion, Wainwright made a solemn vow to remain with the tens of thousands of malnourished and besieged American and Filipino forces, fighting alongside under the American flag. The painful memory of their doomed five-month stand fortified his resolve to face adversity once more in Manchuria.
“I will make a fight for life, as I fought against overwhelming odds in the Philippine Islands,” Wainwright penned in his diary. “No one called me yellow then, and, by God, I won’t be now.”
These words offer an essential lesson for Trump. By carelessly attempting to simplify the conclusion of World War II for the sake of easier celebration, he risks depriving Americans of a richer, more valuable legacy—the complete narrative of the efforts needed to secure victory in both Europe and the Pacific, as well as a reminder that the outcome was never a foregone conclusion. It consistently required struggle and sacrifice.
Trump often focuses on the idea of winning. Yet, when the moment of ultimate triumph revealed itself in the Pacific on September 2, 1945, the organizers of the ceremony aboard the USS Missouri ensured that the hardships and humiliations America had endured along the way were not forgotten. If Trump examines historical photographs, he will note MacArthur signing the instrument of surrender, with an emaciated Wainwright—now liberated—standing behind him. His war had finally ended, and so had America’s.
As freedom and democracy face new challenges and uncertainty looms, let Americans commemorate the 80th anniversary of V-E Day as their ancestors did originally—by pledging to continue the fight for the cause for which so many made immense sacrifices.
Adam Young for TROIB News
The news of Germany’s surrender that same week never reached Wainwright; even if it had, it wouldn’t have alleviated his suffering. "If this keeps up, I know I can’t survive. Thin and weak as I am and no proper food, I doubt if I can endure this pain for any long period of time,” he recorded in his diary on June 19, more than a month later.
Wainwright’s prison diary, preserved at an Army archive in Carlisle, Pennsylvania, starkly contrasts with President Trump’s recent initiative to rename Victory in Europe Day—celebrating Germany's surrender on May 8—as “Victory Day for World War II.” As well-known historical facts indicate, World War II did not conclude until Japan surrendered four months later, following two atomic bombings.
The president claims this rebranding is essential because Americans have lost touch with their history. “We never celebrate anything,” he stated on the social media platform Truth Social. “That’s because we don’t have leaders anymore, that know how to do so!” However, his proclamation for the new holiday fails to acknowledge the war in the Pacific or the more than one hundred thousand Americans who perished in that theater.
If this is the “patriotism” the president aims to revive in history classes, he has fundamentally misunderstood the concept. By rushing to the narrative of ultimate victory, Trump does not honor America's accomplishments but rather diminishes their significance.
In stark contrast, Truman, Trump’s predecessor, understood that Americans should commemoratively engage with the actual V-E Day by recommitting to achieving victory in the Pacific. “We can repay the debt which we owe to our God, to our dead, and to our children, only by work, by ceaseless devotion to the responsibilities which lie ahead of us,” Truman articulated. “If I could give you a single watchword for the coming months, that word is work, work, and more work. We must work to finish the war. Our victory is only half over.”
To prematurely celebrate America’s final victory in this monumental conflict is to disregard the sacrifices made by those who answered Truman’s call: the soldiers still fighting for Okinawa; the servicemen preparing to redeploy from Europe to the Pacific; the generals strategizing a substantial invasion of Japan’s main islands, Kyushu in the fall of 1945 and Honshu in early 1946; and the policymakers pondering the tens of thousands of additional American lives that might be lost in these operations, alongside the scientists racing to test an atomic bomb that could alter all calculations by compelling an enemy that had refused to surrender to do just that.
Wainwright and his fellow prisoners of war had only the scantest information from their guards in Manchuria, with no letters, newspapers, or outside communication. Yet, he did his best to project when the war might conclude and estimated it would not be before 1947.
By June 1945, he harbored substantial doubts about his chances of survival. The pain from his lower back injury had intensified to the degree that he could neither sit up nor sleep well. “It is very bad, and seems to get worse,” he wrote.
While someone unfamiliar with desperate circumstances might have succumbed to despair, Wainwright was made of sterner stuff. When General Douglas MacArthur received orders to escape the Philippines after the Japanese invasion, Wainwright made a solemn vow to remain with the tens of thousands of malnourished and besieged American and Filipino forces, fighting alongside under the American flag. The painful memory of their doomed five-month stand fortified his resolve to face adversity once more in Manchuria.
“I will make a fight for life, as I fought against overwhelming odds in the Philippine Islands,” Wainwright penned in his diary. “No one called me yellow then, and, by God, I won’t be now.”
These words offer an essential lesson for Trump. By carelessly attempting to simplify the conclusion of World War II for the sake of easier celebration, he risks depriving Americans of a richer, more valuable legacy—the complete narrative of the efforts needed to secure victory in both Europe and the Pacific, as well as a reminder that the outcome was never a foregone conclusion. It consistently required struggle and sacrifice.
Trump often focuses on the idea of winning. Yet, when the moment of ultimate triumph revealed itself in the Pacific on September 2, 1945, the organizers of the ceremony aboard the USS Missouri ensured that the hardships and humiliations America had endured along the way were not forgotten. If Trump examines historical photographs, he will note MacArthur signing the instrument of surrender, with an emaciated Wainwright—now liberated—standing behind him. His war had finally ended, and so had America’s.
As freedom and democracy face new challenges and uncertainty looms, let Americans commemorate the 80th anniversary of V-E Day as their ancestors did originally—by pledging to continue the fight for the cause for which so many made immense sacrifices.
Adam Young for TROIB News
