Wednesday morning we piled into the back of a covered flatbed truck with about 20 other villagers and slowly made our way to the village of Ukiangang at the southwestern end of Butaritari atoll. The wheels splashed through puddles from the night's rainfall and coconut palms and breadfruit trees brushed the canvas covered framework shielding us from the mid-morning sun. We stopped many times to pick up people along the way and after about half and hour, arrived in the bustling village. As we made our way to the school grounds, the road was lined with young children - all wearing Kelly green- and-white school uniforms, and each adorned with a freshly woven coconut palm leaf hat that oddly resembled a military helmet. When our truck came to a stop, we were swarmed by a hundred smiling kids, some toting homemade toy rifles and pop-guns. They were shouting "I-Matang! I-Matang!" - the Kiribati phrase for white man. Today was a special day for the island: a day to celebrate the 70th anniversary of the Kiribati liberation from Japanese occupation during WWII. Lolo and I had timed our visit here to witness this little known event. Being ushered to our front row seats, we had become the de facto American Representatives for this day of commemoration. As over a hundred children lined up in their respective primary school grades (starting from preschool), they enclosed the perimeter of an open weedy soccer field. The drum major began to beat and a contingent of police officers marched to the center of the field to open the ceremony. The crowd was addressed by high ranking local chiefs and the events of November 20th, 1943 were explained. This was the day that American troops and air support overtook the Japanese stronghold on the island - in what became known as the Battle of Makin. There were many brave Americans that gave their lives in this effort, and also many I-Kiribati people that died despite being mostly hidden in caves. We were seated next to a war memorial that commemorated the loss of those lives. Each school group marched with proud banners around the perimeter of the field, and then paraded in front of all the dignitaries, stopping for a unique salute at the memorial before moving to the center of the field. The kids were serious, proud and disciplined beyond any grade school presentation I have seen. After the last group had taken the center, the Kiribati flag was raised and we all stood while the Kiribati National Anthem was sung with great harmony. Next, they raised the American flag on a flagstaff adjacent and then to my surprise, whole of the student body sang the American National Anthem - The Star Spangled Banner. Tears welled. It is so difficult to imagine that a tiny group of children in a tiny village on a tiny atoll in the middle of the vast Pacific Ocean would pay such an honorable tribute - a tribute to America. But it is somewhat embarrassing to realize that almost no school age child in America would even know where the Battle of Makin was fought or what they were commemorating. While the people here celebrate this special day as an important part of their history, the events that took place in the South Pacific are all but forgotten in the US. On this sliver of land in the middle of nowhere, children still swim quite literally among the wreckage of WWII carnage. Japanese flying boats rest on the lagoon shores, bullet riddled fuselage still remain beneath the coconut trees in people's backyards. American fighter plane wings are used for tables and pig pens, and Japanese artillery shell casings still lie on the ground. Including a US escort carrier torpedoed by a Japanese submarine, there were 763 Americans that gave their lives at the Battle of Makin - a number that exceeded the entire Japanese Garrison here. With the Japanese and I-Kiribati losses, it was a bloody battle by any measure. It was a somber moment as each classroom continued the ceremony by placing a wreath of flowers on the memorial. But it was two preschoolers that brought tears as they laid their wreath atop the others. After the ceremony, we were escorted back to the maniaba and seated front and center, and then treated to traditional dance performances, song and a huge feast (no dog that I could discern.) Many speeches were given and the words "America," "Alaska," and "I-Matang" were uttered many times with glances in our direction and nods of respect. We were treated as distinguished guests of honor and as such, the first to be served food. Lolo and I were humbled beyond words, but that was not the end. After the feast, there were more traditional dance performances and then it was time for us to dance�... Lolo was approached first by the unimane (chief elder) of the village and joined him for a dance in the center of the maniaba while some 200 onlookers cheered them on. The custom in Kiribati is to dance in as silly (and provocative) manner as possible. Lolo is a great dancer anyway and the cheers roared as she mimicked her distinguished partner's moves on the floor. In comparison to the other women, Lolo looked like a pixie flitting around the room. Then it happened, as I knew it would. I was approached by a woman with very different proportions than Lolo, and egged-on to join her on the floor. It was just the two couples now and I was mortified enough to be part of the spectacle for the entire crowd when the woman suddenly lurched toward me, and threw her arms around my neck. The crowd went wild. There was not much I could do as she kissed my cheek but pray for the song to end - when she launched her next attack - a full body hug - with some blatant pelvic grinding. While I diverted some of the momentum to one side, she circled around my back and jumped on - piggy-back style. The crowd roared with laughter as I tried to pretend I was somewhere else. Luckily there was only one other such dance before rounds of speeches brought things under control. I was asked to say something, but as I knew it would have to be translated, kept it short. I told them we were honored to attend the ceremony and humbled by the commemoration and singing of the American National Anthem. I mentioned how we had sailed some 15,000 nautical miles to be here and that several years ago we had met Hal, an Alaskan man that had served here during WWII. I thanked them for the beautiful dance performances and delicious feast. We were told by several important people that our presence was greatly appreciated. While the people of Makin Island clearly commemorate this day for their own reasons, it seems fitting that there should be someone from the USA in attendance. Last year, no one from America came.