I am always humbled every June 6th, thinking about the sacrifices my parents' generation made for us. Today, thinking of a twice-impeached, many-times-disgraced former president—and now a convicted felon—running for president as a fascist makes me believe that the millions who died defending against the tyran…
I am always humbled every June 6th, thinking about the sacrifices my parents' generation made for us. Today, thinking of a twice-impeached, many-times-disgraced former president—and now a convicted felon—running for president as a fascist makes me believe that the millions who died defending against the tyranny of fascist leaders are not only rolling in their graves but are ready to jump out and fight.
I was reminded, reading this letter, of the reality of war in my own family. My father and my uncle both volunteered, both served, only one returned home from the battles of the Pacific.
My father died in 2014 . He never wanted to talk much about the war . His generation was characterized by quiet service without chest beating. Common men and women who were heroes when heroes were required. My fervent hope is that the world they enabled will be preserved by those of us who were beneficiaries of their service and sacrifice.
My father was disabled in WWII while serving in the Navy in the Pacific theater. He lost 3 fingers on his right hand. When he returned from WWII in spite of having an accounting degree he had a lot of trouble getting a job. He eventually went to work for the IRS where he worked for over 30 years. Our family received a monthly stipend for his disability of a whopping $30 a month during the 1950's. He never complained about his injury but he never talked about the war either.
My mom's brother served in the US Army during WWII and contracted malaria. He too was disabled but not seriously enough to receive any benefits.
"War is hell," a phrase repeated time and again. But usually not by those who saw action. They tend to be mum.
Every time I read that convicted felon draft dodger Trump calls those who serve "suckers and losers" I wonder how ANYONE can support this POS.
I had an uncle who was hero in the South Pacific. He served 20 years in the Navy, then returned home and bought a farm, which he worked for 40+ years. He never talked much about the war until he was in his 70s and 80s, when he would flirt with waitresses, by telling them a little about his war experience. The waitresses were charmed. But he was charming.
Most people in our community knew about some things about his war experiences, but I don't think any of us knew the full extent.
He was a modest, humble man of great honor. After my father died, he became my kids' "grandpa.". I don't think any of us can talk about Uncle Joe without smiling.
Thanks for sharing a portion of your family’s story. I also wonder how anyone can support TFG. There is a short circuit somewhere within supporters’ value system.
Gary, my late father-in-law served in the Pacific during WW2, and similarly never wanted to talk about it, which I respected despite my enduring curiosity. He did tell the story of returning home to the East Coast by train, on a cot , fevered by malaria as he rode across the country.
I think the stories are impactful and I don’t want to overlook the burden on those who stayed home, raised families, worked on assembly lines, and prayed for the return of loved ones. In quiet moments it’s easy for me to be overwhelmed with what was given to us. We were blessed by “The Greatest Generation”.
My wondering too. What are they missing in human ‘sensitivity’… must only be basic early childhood education.. “give that seat to your friend.. “ Share & Care in musical chairs…
A lot of that silence i think was a form of "battle trauma"... ordinary people were subjected to emotional horrors which they had somehow to accommodate in their subsequent civilian and family lives. An oral history movement picked up in the 70s and later to throw more human light on what these men mainly had to endure.
My parents both served in Italy. My dad after North Africa. He led infantry platoons, wounded twice. My mom was his nurse. We can only imagine the horrors of the wounds she had to treat.
They rarely spoke of their experiences - even when asked. For them, it was their way of dealing with the trauma. And remember that their generation was supposed to just suck it up and move on.
Anyway, that's how they met. And my sister and I are the results. It's weird to owe my existence to a world war. But that's life.
Bill, reading your comment and others like it about the “keeping it to themselves” of their war experiences, my mind’s eye saw the way a tree can grow around a rock or other solid object, fully encasing it, yet continuing to grow….and observers are often not fully aware of it. ❤️🩹
Bill, We share somewhat similar experiences. Father was a tail gunner in a B17.
Mother trained pilots in nite navigation . As boys , my brother and I would admire my father's medals and the knife he brought back from the army air corp. Father didn't talk much about his service beyond explaining why he had a 6" scar in his side. He was lucky. Year later when I'd ask him why he went he just said he was young and naive. He was able to bury the trauma for a while and became quite successful . Later when life became more challenging his PTSd took over and ruined his life. He'd awaken in the middle of the nite from dreams of dropping bombs onto German cities and seeing formation aircraft descending in flames. I can't understand why we have retained this seemingly senseless need for war but it persists to our own peril.
Gary Anderson - I feel compelled to write a personal response. We know a little more now about what those who saw battle and killed other human beings suffered -- unspeakably suffered -- named in more recent years "PTSD". My favorite uncle (born in 1920) was one of them. And he never spoke within my earshot of the atrocities he witnessed. (Nor do I think he did with my parents during his furloughs with us or after the war.) But several years after the war he suddenly disappeared from his post-war family of wife, 6 adopted children, 7 children of his own, his parents, his sister, 2 brothers, 2 nieces (including me), and a sister-in-law. At some point, a jacket was found hanging from a tree branch above the Niagara Falls with hand written ID in a pocket. We all knew he didn't (wouldn't) take that route, but he totally disappeared, not contacting anyone. Then a number of years later his body was found hanging in a San Francisco hotel room. The ID of his assumed name was fake of course, but his fingerprints eventually were identified through War records. PTSD in my opinion is the number one silent killer, going undetected for years, maybe forever. (Thank you for indulging this personal story.)
My heart goes out to you and so many others who experienced traumatic family events as a result of the war to preserve the world. Thank you for describing your reality. I appreciate you taking the time to share it with those of us who are here.
Truly. My prayers continue this thread daily , often minute by minute when I’m frightened by the daily ‘news’.. I will be ‘leaving’ sometime soon and pray for a kinder WORLD for my 4 & 7 y/o grsons.
I too was reminded about my father's service as a Marine. He was a sergeant of an anti-aircraft gun crew in the South Pacific, was wounded with a ricochet & killed the Japanese man who shot at him. Had a belly scar & a purple heart (which I didn't see until after he died in 1993). He never spoke of the war- I only heard about it from my mother & later read some of his journal notes where he named his fellow Marines who had been killed in action. Maybe I was afraid to ask. I sometimes wonder if he lived the rest of his life in service to others as atonement for killing another. He never allowed us to have guns. He was a kind gentleman & supportive father. I was fortunate.
Thank you, Gary et al., for these stories of our brave kinsmen and kinswomen. As that 'Greatest Generation' passes out of living historical memory, it is the emergent oral tradition of what these Americans did that keeps the legacy alive, relevant, inspiring.
At the very least, Michael, I hope they return to haunt his dreams. Not that it would prompt a change in him, as I believe he is incapable of that psychologically…but I like the idea of him being chastised by those brave and honorable souls.
Excellent, thank you Heather.
I am always humbled every June 6th, thinking about the sacrifices my parents' generation made for us. Today, thinking of a twice-impeached, many-times-disgraced former president—and now a convicted felon—running for president as a fascist makes me believe that the millions who died defending against the tyranny of fascist leaders are not only rolling in their graves but are ready to jump out and fight.
Vote.
I was reminded, reading this letter, of the reality of war in my own family. My father and my uncle both volunteered, both served, only one returned home from the battles of the Pacific.
My father died in 2014 . He never wanted to talk much about the war . His generation was characterized by quiet service without chest beating. Common men and women who were heroes when heroes were required. My fervent hope is that the world they enabled will be preserved by those of us who were beneficiaries of their service and sacrifice.
Thanks to Heather for this poignant reminder.
My father was disabled in WWII while serving in the Navy in the Pacific theater. He lost 3 fingers on his right hand. When he returned from WWII in spite of having an accounting degree he had a lot of trouble getting a job. He eventually went to work for the IRS where he worked for over 30 years. Our family received a monthly stipend for his disability of a whopping $30 a month during the 1950's. He never complained about his injury but he never talked about the war either.
My mom's brother served in the US Army during WWII and contracted malaria. He too was disabled but not seriously enough to receive any benefits.
"War is hell," a phrase repeated time and again. But usually not by those who saw action. They tend to be mum.
Every time I read that convicted felon draft dodger Trump calls those who serve "suckers and losers" I wonder how ANYONE can support this POS.
I had an uncle who was hero in the South Pacific. He served 20 years in the Navy, then returned home and bought a farm, which he worked for 40+ years. He never talked much about the war until he was in his 70s and 80s, when he would flirt with waitresses, by telling them a little about his war experience. The waitresses were charmed. But he was charming.
Most people in our community knew about some things about his war experiences, but I don't think any of us knew the full extent.
He was a modest, humble man of great honor. After my father died, he became my kids' "grandpa.". I don't think any of us can talk about Uncle Joe without smiling.
Thanks for sharing a portion of your family’s story. I also wonder how anyone can support TFG. There is a short circuit somewhere within supporters’ value system.
Gary, my late father-in-law served in the Pacific during WW2, and similarly never wanted to talk about it, which I respected despite my enduring curiosity. He did tell the story of returning home to the East Coast by train, on a cot , fevered by malaria as he rode across the country.
I think the stories are impactful and I don’t want to overlook the burden on those who stayed home, raised families, worked on assembly lines, and prayed for the return of loved ones. In quiet moments it’s easy for me to be overwhelmed with what was given to us. We were blessed by “The Greatest Generation”.
My wondering too. What are they missing in human ‘sensitivity’… must only be basic early childhood education.. “give that seat to your friend.. “ Share & Care in musical chairs…
A lot of that silence i think was a form of "battle trauma"... ordinary people were subjected to emotional horrors which they had somehow to accommodate in their subsequent civilian and family lives. An oral history movement picked up in the 70s and later to throw more human light on what these men mainly had to endure.
My parents both served in Italy. My dad after North Africa. He led infantry platoons, wounded twice. My mom was his nurse. We can only imagine the horrors of the wounds she had to treat.
They rarely spoke of their experiences - even when asked. For them, it was their way of dealing with the trauma. And remember that their generation was supposed to just suck it up and move on.
Anyway, that's how they met. And my sister and I are the results. It's weird to owe my existence to a world war. But that's life.
Bill, reading your comment and others like it about the “keeping it to themselves” of their war experiences, my mind’s eye saw the way a tree can grow around a rock or other solid object, fully encasing it, yet continuing to grow….and observers are often not fully aware of it. ❤️🩹
Bill, We share somewhat similar experiences. Father was a tail gunner in a B17.
Mother trained pilots in nite navigation . As boys , my brother and I would admire my father's medals and the knife he brought back from the army air corp. Father didn't talk much about his service beyond explaining why he had a 6" scar in his side. He was lucky. Year later when I'd ask him why he went he just said he was young and naive. He was able to bury the trauma for a while and became quite successful . Later when life became more challenging his PTSd took over and ruined his life. He'd awaken in the middle of the nite from dreams of dropping bombs onto German cities and seeing formation aircraft descending in flames. I can't understand why we have retained this seemingly senseless need for war but it persists to our own peril.
Frank, "battle trauma" now called PTSD. A very serious condition.
Gary Anderson - I feel compelled to write a personal response. We know a little more now about what those who saw battle and killed other human beings suffered -- unspeakably suffered -- named in more recent years "PTSD". My favorite uncle (born in 1920) was one of them. And he never spoke within my earshot of the atrocities he witnessed. (Nor do I think he did with my parents during his furloughs with us or after the war.) But several years after the war he suddenly disappeared from his post-war family of wife, 6 adopted children, 7 children of his own, his parents, his sister, 2 brothers, 2 nieces (including me), and a sister-in-law. At some point, a jacket was found hanging from a tree branch above the Niagara Falls with hand written ID in a pocket. We all knew he didn't (wouldn't) take that route, but he totally disappeared, not contacting anyone. Then a number of years later his body was found hanging in a San Francisco hotel room. The ID of his assumed name was fake of course, but his fingerprints eventually were identified through War records. PTSD in my opinion is the number one silent killer, going undetected for years, maybe forever. (Thank you for indulging this personal story.)
My heart goes out to you and so many others who experienced traumatic family events as a result of the war to preserve the world. Thank you for describing your reality. I appreciate you taking the time to share it with those of us who are here.
They were fighting for the democratic Republic. They didn’t need to protest.
Truly. My prayers continue this thread daily , often minute by minute when I’m frightened by the daily ‘news’.. I will be ‘leaving’ sometime soon and pray for a kinder WORLD for my 4 & 7 y/o grsons.
I too was reminded about my father's service as a Marine. He was a sergeant of an anti-aircraft gun crew in the South Pacific, was wounded with a ricochet & killed the Japanese man who shot at him. Had a belly scar & a purple heart (which I didn't see until after he died in 1993). He never spoke of the war- I only heard about it from my mother & later read some of his journal notes where he named his fellow Marines who had been killed in action. Maybe I was afraid to ask. I sometimes wonder if he lived the rest of his life in service to others as atonement for killing another. He never allowed us to have guns. He was a kind gentleman & supportive father. I was fortunate.
Beautifully written, Gary Anderson !
Thank you, Gary et al., for these stories of our brave kinsmen and kinswomen. As that 'Greatest Generation' passes out of living historical memory, it is the emergent oral tradition of what these Americans did that keeps the legacy alive, relevant, inspiring.
Bravos to President Joe Biden & to author HCR!
Yes! Jump out and fight! All of us!
Let’s not get complacent now!
Fight for sure, and fight smart. The enemy is entrenched.
At the very least, Michael, I hope they return to haunt his dreams. Not that it would prompt a change in him, as I believe he is incapable of that psychologically…but I like the idea of him being chastised by those brave and honorable souls.
Michael- And what a contrast to this dumb era's MAGAts cosplaying military patriotism. Sacrificing nothing.