A war ended earlier this month and there were no parades. 

There were no hats tossed in the air along wide boulevards of American cities, no sailors surprising random women with jubilant kisses. No cars blasting horns up and down Kalakaua Avenue, no very important people inscribing documents to mark the conclusion of armed conflict.

As uniformed women, men and machines crossed over sand berms to Kuwait the Sunday before Christmas, the coda came simply through a ceremonial declaration that U.S. operations in Iraq were over.

A few days later, the U.S. Forces-Iraq flag returned to American soil, a solemn ritual that contrasted with laughter, smiles and emotional embraces as soldiers reunited with their loved ones.

The actions fit the occasion.

After eight years and nine months, the “shock and awe” of the war’s beginning had fallen into distant time. In truth, statues of Saddam Hussein toppling in the streets of Baghdad, the tyrant’s capture on a farm in Tikrit and the unseemly “mission accomplished” moment of a swaggering, vainglorious president were images most Americans would rather leave behind.

Yet we cannot forget the cost of the war. The memory of nearly 4,500 American and more than 100,000 Iraqi lives lost will remain with us, unjustified by the false claims of weapons of mass destruction and the hubris that tumbled the nation into bloodshed. We cannot forget the tens of thousands of citizens whose fortunes, families and friends have been forever altered.

Boisterous celebrations seem unwarranted when troops are still in the intractable battles in Afghanistan, when a young man from Wisconsin who was based in the islands is killed in Kunar province on Christmas Day.

Homecomings are better noted right now in quiet observances.

There may come a time when the actions of men and women who fought the now-unpopular war will be duly honored, as happened in a commemoration for 450 nisei veterans on a Saturday a week before Christmas.

 The veterans were a small contingent compared to the thousands who had served in World War II. The parade and banquet in remembrance of their service was not the first, but for many in the aging group, the ceremony may have been their last.

Among them were members of the much-feted 100th Infantry Battalion and the 442nd Regimental Combat Team, and the lesser-known Military Intelligence Service and the 1399th Engineer Construction Battalion.

Their war was a different one in a much different time, but the distinctions blur when each individual’s valor is considered.

It is a cliche to say they are all heroes, but they are. Not so much for displays of bravery on the killing fields, but for what they did when they came home. Most of them somehow managed to put aside the awfulness of combat, of living through savage years, of defending a country that denied their patriotism to build lives for themselves, establish careers and provide for their families.

The men and women who have returned from Iraq will do the same. Some will be successful, others will struggle. But a largely indifferent nation that has not shared much in their sacrifices will someday understand the significance of their service. Then there will be parades.

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Cynthia Oi can be reached at coi@staradvertiser.com.