NEW YORK --  Jerry Coleman wore the New York Yankees' pinstripes for nine  seasons, patrolling  the infield dirt in front of the frenzied World Series crowds that  filled a triple-decked stadium. But on Veterans Day, Coleman  remains the proudest of his service in a different uniform -- that of  the United States Marine Corps.

"Quite honestly, the most  important time of my life was the five years I  spent in the Marine  Corps, no question about it," said the 86-year-old  Coleman. "If you  struck out in baseball, you came back and gave it  another shot. If you  struck out in the Marine Corps, you're done."

Jerry Coleman, who suited up for the New York Yankees from 1949-1957, visits the World War II Memorial in Washington, D.C.

The  only Major Leaguer to see combat in both World War II and the Korean War, Coleman returned to New York this week, where he suited up for the   New York Yankees from 1949-1957. Coleman will serve as a grand marshal  for Thursday's New York City  Veterans Day Parade, promoting public  awareness about the National Spirit of '45 Day, to be held on Aug. 14  each year -- the date World War  II ended.

"It's a tremendous  honor," Coleman said. "When you consider over 400,000  men and women  were killed in World War II, my whole role here is the  Spirit of '45.  People don't realize what it was like then. You couldn't  do anything or  buy anything or go anyplace. You had to fight through it  and get to a  better era."And with these kids in Iraq and Afghanistan, any  time we're threatened  in this country, there are people that come to  the aid. That's why I  think that every generation, in my opinion, is  the greatest generation."

Coleman flew more than 120 missions  in World War II and Korea,  sacrificing a large part of a promising  baseball career. He was a  17-year-old in San Francisco holding offers  for baseball and basketball  scholarships to USC, when Pearl Harbor was  attacked on Dec. 7, 1941.

"I was a senior in high school,"  Coleman recalled. "The principal called  in all the senior boys to the  auditorium. We wondered what was going  on. All of a sudden from the  back of the auditorium came these two naval  aviators, whose wings  looked about 15 feet wide and solid gold."Coleman's  classmates were soon discussing what branch of the service  they might  head for, believing at the time that the Japanese could  invade Hawaii  and then California. Coleman opted for a career as a naval  aviator and  never looked back.

"I was young. I thought it was wonderful,  and of course, I was  invincible," Coleman said. "You know that, at that  age, no one can get  you. You're going to win the war single-handedly." Coleman  was one of the fortunate ones in World War II, flying his  missions in  the Solomon Islands without major incident. The end of the  fighting  allowed him to return to the baseball field, where the Yankees  were  waiting.

"I remember when I got the word, I was home on leave  and I thought,  'Well, what am I going to do now?'" Coleman said. "So I  thought I'd give  baseball a shot again, and that's how it all started." But  Coleman's days in the service were not complete. After the 1951 World  Series, Coleman was summoned by a superior officer in Alameda, Calif.  Coleman thought at first the meeting was an informal lunch. It  turned  out to be a second tour.

Because few naval aviators had been  trained after 1945, pilots were needed to serve in Korea. Coleman hoped  to miss just one baseball  season, but he spent most of 1952 and 1953 in  the cockpit. There were two close calls in Korea that nearly  cost Coleman his life.  On one mission, Coleman's radio went out and he  was forced to land his Corsair attack bomber in heavy cloud cover.  Another crippled jet was  also headed in at the same time.

"Apparently  he had a flameout right above our field, so both of us were  on the  same runway at the same time," Coleman said. "He had so much more  speed  than I had and he went right over the top of me, went down to the  end  and blew up. That was the end of him, I'm sorry to say."

An  even tighter escape took place when the motor of Coleman's plane  failed  a hundred feet above the K-6 runway in Korea, with 3,000 pounds  of  bombs on board.

"I'm chugging along and pop into the air, and  the engine stops cold,"  Coleman said. "I realize at some point that I'm  not going to make it.  Bombs don't blow up unless they're armed, so I  let my bombs go. Bombs  are flying all over the runway, and I'm going  down. I hit the end.

"I still remember my knees being behind  my ears, my hands were pinned to  the side, and my strap didn't pop. I'm  being choked. I passed out, and  the next thing I knew, they'd pulled  me out. If they hadn't gotten to me  in a hurry, I'd have suffocated."

For his service in Korea, Coleman brought home two Distinguished Flying Crosses, though he said they hold little significance. "I  think there were others that were probably more deserving and didn't   get them," Coleman said. "Maybe they did, I don't know. It wasn't the   idea of the medals that really meant anything. What it really meant was   that the war was over." Still enjoying his time in the game  as baseball's oldest active play-by-play announcer with the San Diego Padres,  Coleman is just grateful to have  come home safely.

With 100  members of the Greatest Generation marching Thursday in New York along  with children representing all 50 states, Coleman  hopes that the youth  of America will honor the memory of their vets by  committing to 100 or  more hours of service in their name.

"There are two important  things in life to me, and of course I'm 86 years old, so I look at it  differently than I did at 26," Coleman said.  "The two important things  to me are the people you love, and who love  you, and your country.  There's not a lot worth much more."

Bryan Hoch is a reporter for MLB.com. This story was not subject to the approval of Major League Baseball or its clubs.