His enduring duty

Gus DiMino walks slowly among the graves at St. Patrick's Catholic Cemetery in Norristown carrying a handful of small American flags. As he leans to place one in the bronze marker at each veteran's grave, he recalls the men who lie beneath the neatly clipped grass.

"We went to high school together, graduated at the same time, and left together," DiMino, 86, says at one grave. "He was in bombardier training and hit a mountain. He didn't last long."

He moves to another grave, with a slight limp in his step from a car accident seven years ago. "This guy was a tank driver," he says. "He got killed real quick."

It is the approach of the Memorial Day weekend. As they have done for the last 60 years, members of Norristown Catholic War Veterans Post 1182 are moving through the cemetery, decorating the graves of their comrades.

DiMino started the ritual as a teenager, helping his father, a World War I Army veteran, and other members of the American Legion. Now, though he says he's too old for the job, his commitment endures.

"Gus is Mr. Military," says his friend Gus Interrante, 75, who is retired from the Air Force. "Anything involved with the military, whether it be veterans rights or the cemetery, Gus is the guy who spearheaded it."

"The cemetery" is the long-sought veterans cemetery for Southeastern Pennsylvania, a cause that has consumed DiMino for most of his adult life. It's a goal he started working for in 1947, in honor of several close friends - guys from the neighborhood.

"I always said I was going to come home and try to do something in memory of the guys that got killed," he says.

He had no idea he would still be fighting 62 years after the end of World War II.

Over the years, DiMino has lobbied congressmen, senators, presidents. He's written thousands of letters. He's organized committees. He's run up his telephone bills, trekked to dozens of meetings, testified at hearings.

DiMino's dedication to military service started before he even graduated from Norristown High School in 1939, when he signed on with Citizens Military Training Corp., an early version of Junior ROTC.

"I was a sophomore," he said. "I lied about my age, said I was 18."

When he graduated, he joined the Pennsylvania National Guard in Norristown, and in 1942 he enlisted in the Army. His transportation unit was sent overseas to Marseilles, France.

"When we first went, we were building railcars, 120 men turning out 11 cars a day," he said. "After five months, we were knocking out 55 a day. We had some German prisoners help us out."

After his discharge in 1946, DiMino joined the reserves and then got on with his civilian life. He sold real estate, and then launched a career in real estate management. He married Fran Calabrese, and they had two children, both of whom still live nearby with their families.

Over the years, DiMino worked for Korman Corp. at the Plaza Hotel in Center City, and later for J. Leon Altemose when he built the Valley Forge Towers.

Politics was in his blood, too. He volunteered for Frank L. Rizzo's mayoral campaigns and served two terms on Norristown Borough Council.

In 1952, a reserve civil affairs unit was formed in Norristown, and DiMino had a new military specialty - food service. As the saying goes, an army moves on its belly, and DiMino made sure those bellies were full of good, well-prepared food.

In 1975, active duty called again. DiMino, then a senior warrant officer, was tapped for a potential position at Fort Lee, Va.

"He thought it was a prank," recalls his wife. "It was Thanksgiving weekend and after we ate our turkey, he said that he was going to be interviewed on Friday."

"I didn't want to go," he says. Five reservists were called in, some older than him, some even on crutches, DiMino says. The commander picked him.

His job? Training Army cooks. "I couldn't even boil an egg, but I was a pretty good food adviser," he says. "We brought in cooks to Fort Lee for classes, and I would give them a book of 250 slides so they could teach the rest of the cooks and administrators how to function as a kitchen."

From 1975 to 1985, DiMino traveled the country, 60,000 to 80,000 miles a year, inspecting field kitchens and centers for the Army Reserve and National Guard, and setting standards for their operation.

"My tour was supposed to be for two years," he says. "It ended up 10 years. I was doing a pretty damn good job."

When he returned to civilian life - again - he picked up where he left off on the cemetery.

"He is the heart and soul of the movement for the veterans cemetery in Southeastern Pennsylvania," says former U.S. Rep. Joe Hoeffel. "Every veterans leader will acknowledge that."

DiMino lobbied Hoeffel and his predecessor, Jon D. Fox, for the cemetery to be built at Valley Forge National Historical Park. When that idea faltered, he turned his support to a bill introduced by U.S. Rep. Jim Gerlach (R., Pa.) that called for the Veterans Affairs secretary to choose a site.

Gerlach says he met DiMino during his first campaign for Congress in 2002.

"He is a real veteran's veteran," says Gerlach. "He knows the military inside and out, and he knows the needs of veterans inside and out. He is a terrific advocate for them."

When the Department of Veterans Affairs picked a Bucks County site for the cemetery two years ago, DiMino was disappointed that it was not closer to Valley Forge, but pleased that his long quest appeared to be coming to an end.

But now that site is mired in zoning hearings and other legal entanglements, and the VA is considering yet another location. DiMino remains hopeful that the VA will reconsider Pennhurst, the former state hospital site in northern Chester County.

But on a warm Wednesday evening in a Norristown cemetery, his supply of flags nearly exhausted, DiMino has another concern on his mind. And it's about the future. There are 22 veterans with him, ages ranging from 75 to 86, DiMino says. When they are gone, he wonders, who will be there to remember and honor the sacrifices of generations before them?

"We're worried about who the hell will continue to do this," he says, looking around at all the fresh flags next to the graves. "It's a problem."