1 Werd, Russ!

2 Just reread your post.

Nicely done.

Thanks.

3 Well written. Thanks.

4 Well said, Russ. As I posted earlier, every time I see a national cemetery these days I seem to sob even harder, both for what we lost back then in blood and treasure, for those that are passing into history at a rate of 600 per day and for a country that is passing before our eyes. I am only glad that those who died (including an uncle who was killed on Saipan in 1944) are not around to see their sacrifice being pissed away. G-d bless and keep the sacred memory of those who gave their lives for us.

5

Well written.  I miss my grandfather who went ashore at Iwo Jima many years ago.  He still makes me laugh even though he passed away 35 years ago.

 

6 Many thanks for the post-- my dad was one of those D-Day paratroopers (82nd Airborne) dropped behind enemy lines in the early hours of Operation Overlord. Thankfully, he came home unharmed (or I wouldn't be here), but he died relatively young of a heart attack (delayed aftereffect of combat shock, or so the coroner told my mother). I think of him every day, but especially on the anniversary of D-Day (not to mention Father's Day, Veterans Day, and Memorial Day). My dad would have turned 100 last September if he were still alive, but I can't help wishing he had lived to see the sun rise today as well as on 6/6/44.

7

The men are walking. They are fifty feet apart, for dispersal. Their walk is slow, for they are dead weary, as you can tell even when looking at them from behind. Every line and sag of their bodies speaks their inhuman exhaustion

Ernie Pyle

8 My Uncle Jimmy was with the infantry at Normandy. His letters to my mother prior to the invasion are priceless - they are filled with light-hearted nonsense and false information. Like many of his generation, he didn't talk about his experiences. He was such a good man - honest, funny, decent, hard-working, generous. He's been gone 6 years; his wife died a week ago so they are together again at last.

9

I heard of a high British officer who went over this battlefield just after the action was over. American boys were still lying dead in their foxholes, their rifles still grasped in firing position in their dead hands. And the veteran English soldier remarked time and again, in a sort of hushed eulogy spoken only to himself:

"Brave men. Brave men."

Ernie Pyle

10 Great post.

I thank God for these men and the United States of America.

11 Carentan O Carentan by Louis Simpson Trees in the old days used to stand And shape a shady lane Where lovers wandered hand in hand Who came from Carentan. This was the shining green canal Where we came two by two Walking at combat-interval. Such trees we never knew. The day was early June, the ground Was soft and bright with dew. Far away the guns did sound, But here the sky was blue. The sky was blue, but there a smoke Hung still above the sea Where the ships together spoke To towns we could not see. Could you have seen us through a glass You would have said a walk Of farmers out to turn the grass, Each with his own hay-fork. The watchers in their leopard suits Waited till it was time, And aimed between the belt and boot And let the barrel climb. I must lie down at once, there is A hammer at my knee. And call it death or cowardice, Don't count again on me. Everything's all right, Mother, Everyone gets the same At one time or another. It's all in the game. I never strolled, nor ever shall, Down such a leafy lane. I never drank in a canal, Nor ever shall again. There is a whistling in the leaves And it is not the wind, The twigs are falling from the knives That cut men to the ground. Tell me, Master-Sergeant, The way to turn and shoot. But the Sergeant's silent That taught me how to do it. O Captain, show us quickly Our place upon the map. But the Captain's sickly And taking a long nap. Lieutenant, what's my duty, My place in the platoon? He too's a sleeping beauty, Charmed by that strange tune. Carentan O Carentan Before we met with you We never yet had lost a man Or known what death could do.

12

My dad fought in the war, came home and started both a business and family. He came home each day dirty and sweaty from his labor. On election day he would come home, shower and shave, and walk us kids over to the school to vote. He would always tell us kids "This is why I fought, so we can choose our leaders".

Shame on those that take it for granted and stay at home on election day.

13 My uncle Ray was on the beach on DDay, went through the Battle oft he Bulge, and helped liberate Dachau. (I probably spelled that wrong, please excuse) He was a stern , quiet but kind man who came home raised fine kids (my cousins), ran his small business (a garage) and loved my aunt. God Bless them all.

14 Really liked that post of yours, Russ.

That line from The Shootist[i/], where John Wayne talks about how a man "has to be willing..."  That's one of the greatest, and most overlooked, movie lines ever.

Thanks again.

15

16 whew....

17 Not much to say, really. Russ, great essay, and ride it forever, really. That was my Father's generation. He was in the other war, in the Pacific. Most of his friends from high school, hell almost all the boys from his high school went to the war in some way. A lot came home, some didn't. They're almost all gone now. I hope we can all remember. I hope America remembers.

18 Very well said! Too bad the MSM has not dedicated any effort to this issue...