June 6, 1944
Jun 06
It was only 63 years ago that tens of thousands of young men, many only a few years older than my son is now, willingly and bravely threw themselves against the German defenses on the coast of France. The youngest survivors of that day alive today are probably 78 years old.
My generation got a free pass. We are too young to even remember Vietnam, and the nation went to an all-volunteer military as we came of age. I did register for the draft when I turned 18 though.
To all who served, voluntarily or not-so-voluntarily, thank you.
My 80 year old father-in-law is going to Europe in a few weeks to revisit the place where he got hit by sniper fire just after D-Day and so many of his buddies were injured and killed. He spent a lifetime not talking about his experience and has in the last few years begun to integrate memories of his war years into the rest of his life.
My grandfather was in the Pacific theater and was injured in the kamikaze attack on the USS Santee. He never spoke of his time in the war. I wish now somebody had gotten him to commit those memories to paper before he died.
My father-in-law was an architecture student when WWII broke out. He enlisted and was assigned to an Engineers’ Company. As engineers, his company went ahead of the troops to clear mines, build roads and bridges. So he, a 20 something guy from Cleveland, Ohio, entered through the gates like any other day. Only that day his troop entered Buchenwald concentration camp. To this day, it is difficult for him to talk about it. Those demons have haunted him at night for 60 years. WWII veterans are forgotten–they, too have PTSD and saw things we can never imagine.
And the current war has made the memories vivid. A challenging time for him, especially since my niece, his granddaughter, is a guest of the Army 30 miles north of Baghdad.