Tributes and trepidation

At Harvard and across the region this year, Veterans Day came with a raw poignance, falling as the nation ponders the heavy toll of two grueling wars and amid the pall of grief that followed reports of an Army psychiatrist’s calculated slaughter of fellow soldiers at Fort Hood. From the laying of wreaths at veterans’ graves to State House ceremonies and dedications of new memorials to war dead, observances of the holiday yesterday were washed with despair, bleak anger, and an unmistakable feeling of unease.

“I just can’t see what we’re doing,’’ said 46-year-old Manuel Pina of Boston, as he watched uniformed veterans march past the Common yesterday. “We’re not winning anything. We’re just losing more good people, almost every day. How is this happening? Why is this happening?’’

On a day Massachusetts learned that yet another of its native sons, 21-year-old Benjamin Sherman, an Army paratrooper from Plymouth, had died in Afghanistan, many along the parade route shared Pina’s misgivings about the protracted conflicts overseas. Only last week, another service member, Marine Captain Kyle Rolf Van De Giesen of North Attleborough was buried. Both men left behind pregnant wives.

The incomprehensible Fort Hood shootings last week, in which Army Major Nidal Malik Hasan allegedly gunned down 12 soldiers and a civilian, compounded the apprehension. Hasan was reportedly distraught at the prospect of being deployed to Afghanistan, and had shown signs of mental instability in the past.

The massacre renewed larger questions of whether the country is winning the overseas conflicts, and of what victory might look like. Even some veterans, who feel duty-bound to attend parades and memorials and count every day alive as a blessing, said they were at a loss as to how the country should proceed.

“I’m lost for any words that would make sense of it all,’’ said Wesley Alston, who landed at Normandy in the invasion of Europe 65 years ago. “Wars are fought different now, and they feel different.’’

For all its death, World War II was easier to understand, Alston said. The stakes were clear, as were the battle lines. The enemy was easy to recognize, and engagements had some sense of order. It bears little resemblance, he said, to the current fighting in Iraq and Afghanistan.

Down the street, Virginia Barber passed out American flags to smiling children, who lined the street with their parents for a good view of the parade. Barber, who has worked with the American Legion for five decades, said it was a good turnout for a chilly, windy day. But the mood was noticeably subdued.

“What happened at Fort Hood put a damper on everything,’’ she said. “It makes you stop and think what is the world coming to.’’

But Arthur Smith, a former state commander for the American Legion, said grief and frustration should never eclipse the day’s essential purpose - honoring the sacrifice of soldiers past and present.

“Our thoughts and prayers go out to every one of them,’’ he said.

At the State House, where Gold Star Mothers in yellow blazers and Patriot Guard Riders in leather jackets joined together in remembrance, Governor Deval Patrick spoke before several hundred veterans, family members, and lawmakers in the Hall of Flags, where murals depict scenes from wars past.

In emotional remarks, Patrick recalled a recent visit to Walter Reed Army Medical Center in Washington, D.C., where he was struck by the selflessness of Massachusetts veterans.

“I asked them if there was anything they needed,’’ Patrick said. “And at a time when no one would begrudge them a single thing - after they had literally given their limbs in service of this country - they replied with a simple, ‘No, we have everything we need.’ Yet they have given everything they can. They placed themselves in harm’s way for the rest of us, and it is a humbling thing.’’

Patrick also recounted a scene from last week’s funeral for Van De Giesen, the Marine captain killed in Afghanistan. Seeing the young daughter of a pallbearer smile at her father as she walked by, Patrick realized what Van De Giesen’s two young children had lost.

“I looked from him across the aisle to see the widow of the lost captain, and his 18-month-old daughter sitting on her lap,’’ Patrick said. “And I thought, she will never have a chance to wave that simple greeting to her father, because he gave everything he had.’’

Later, at an American Legion post in Quincy, the governor signed a bill to broaden benefits and services for veterans, saying “it is the least we can do to honor their sacrifices.’’

At Harvard, the Rev. Peter J. Gomes said The Memorial Church, dedicated on Armistice Day in 1932 to honor those who died in World War I, stood as a “perpetual reminder of sacrifice’’ and “has not forgotten its obligation to the dead.’’

Army Chief of Staff General George W. Casey Jr., whose father’s name is etched on the wall for giving his life in the Vietnam War, hailed Harvard’s 16 recipients of the Medal of Honor as “the best examples of service to our nation.’’

“What they all shared is selflessness,’’ he said. “Selflessness to others and selflessness to country.’’