"There Were More Than 150 of Us; Now Only Six Remain"—Korean War Veterans Say, "We Need Help"

【Financial News, New York—Reporter Lee Byung-chul】"When I first went to Seoul, it was completely devastated. There was nothing but bricks in the streets. But Seoul has now become one of the most beautiful cities in the world."
On the 10th, local time, at the veterans hall in Fort Lee, New Jersey, Korean War veteran Alberto Gonzalez slowly rose from his seat. When the veteran, now in his mid-90s, took the microphone, seven decades seemed to roll back in an instant.
The hall’s walls were filled with photographs of the veterans in their youth, along with medals and commendations. Five elderly veterans standing before them put on specially made dark olive military uniforms. They fastened belts around their waists and attached shoulder boards. They smiled as they looked at one another’s uniforms, and one veteran pressed his right hand to his forehead and gave a vigorous salute. Their bodies could not escape the passage of time, but in that moment they seemed to return to being soldiers in their early 20s.
Five Korean War veterans attended the event, all of them over 90. Some veterans who had planned to attend were unable to come because of health problems. The event was organized by South Korean clothing company Rubicons to express gratitude to the veterans.

Born and raised in Fort Lee, Gonzalez volunteered for the U.S. Marine Corps immediately after graduating from high school in 1950. He served in Busan, Incheon and near the 38th parallel. "We knew so little about Korea that at school, we thought it was part of Japan," he recalled. "The winter of 1951–1952 was truly cold."
After the war, he returned to Korea three or four times. The Seoul he first encountered during the war had been reduced to rubble and bricks, but the city looked different each time he came back.
"Every time I went back, a new building had gone up next to one I had seen before. It was completely different."
Gonzalez said, "The year I spent in the war was difficult, but seeing how much Korea has developed makes me feel that the time we spent there was worthwhile."
The memories of other veterans followed one by one. Alex Atheras served as an Army cook between Osan and Suwon. What remained with him was more than the sound of gunfire and artillery shells.
He repeatedly saw local Korean residents come to collect food left over after U.S. troops finished eating and threw it away. "I thought this was wrong," Atheras said. He later set up a separate table and instructed the soldiers to collect leftover meat, mashed potatoes and bread separately rather than throw them into the trash.
"When we shared the food that way, they were happy, and I was happy too."
More than seven decades later, this was one scene from the Korean War that he still remembered. Atheras asked people not to forget the comrades who had died before him. "Whenever we are invited to events like this, there are people who are invited with us," he said. "The comrades who never returned from Korea."
Danny Venezia, who enlisted in the Army on his 18th birthday in 1952, said what surprised him most after the war was the gratitude of the Korean people.
"The gratitude and love shown by Koreans are truly amazing."
He recalled receiving a watch and $1,000 in donations for his veterans’ organization at an event in Flushing, New York, and said, "I am personally very grateful for the way Korean society treats its veterans."
The uniforms presented that day were made in South Korea and delivered to the veterans. A representative of the company involved in their production explained, "This one uniform cannot repay everything you did for Korea. It is a symbol of Koreans’ promise never to forget your sacrifice and courage."
Paul Kim, the mayor of Palisades Park, also attended the event. "If it were not for you, would I have had the opportunity to attend an American school in Seoul, immigrate to the United States, become a citizen and serve as mayor?" Kim said. "The American dream and opportunities I have enjoyed began with the sacrifices of countless people, including you."



Yet the most weighty words of the day came not in a ceremonial speech but from John DiVenzio, who had traveled from Staten Island.
He joined the military at 18 and spent the final six months of the Korean War in 1953. After the war, he also took part in military tests involving atomic bombs and poison gas. Following his discharge, he worked in construction for 35 years.
Over the years, he lost his wife and two sons. He briefly smiled as he mentioned that his fifth great-granddaughter had recently been born.
But his expression changed when the conversation turned to the Korean War veterans’ organization on Staten Island, where he had been active 20 years ago.
"At first, we had more than 150 members. Now only six of us remain."
He paused for a moment, then pointed to his body and said:
"Half of us, like me, have difficulty walking, seeing and eating properly. Hearing is difficult too."
He went on to appeal, "We need help so that this organization can continue."
His words revealed another meaning behind the event.
The young men who headed more than seven decades ago for a country whose name was unfamiliar to them are now mostly in their 90s. Ceremonies, medals and a uniform presented in gratitude are certainly meaningful forms of recognition for Korean War veterans. But for veterans who have little time left, what they need is more than the words, "We will remember you." Practical support is urgently needed—not only for transportation, medical care and daily life, but also to ensure that veterans’ organizations, which are gradually disappearing, can survive to the end.
As the event drew to a close, the elderly veterans stood together in their new uniforms. Some relied on canes, while others were supported by people beside them. Still, when the cameras turned toward them, they straightened their backs.
Then one veteran raised his right hand in salute.
The uniforms worn by those who defended South Korea more than seven decades ago have returned as new ones. Now, what we must look back on is the present-day reality of the people who grew old inside those uniforms.

[email protected] Reporter Lee Byung-chul Reporter