WORLD WAR II HEROS

Peter:  Company E, 2nd Battalion, 26th Regiment, 1st Infantry ~ Ethelyn

Some Heros get famous...most don't. Took me awhile 

to understand just exactly what my Dad went through, 

his endurance of both body and spirit...and 

the fortitude Mom had back home, during World War II. One 

day, it became clear to me: I have two HEROS for Parents!

I needed the outside help of  PBS TV and books, depicting 

and honoring the hardships our troops and homeland

 endured...giving them the face my Dad couldn't talk about. 

He told me a little about how he and other Soldiers would 

give their chocolate to starving, homeless kids who rooted 

around in the garbage to salvage banana skins and other

 life-sustaining treasures. He told me a little about what it 

was like to live in a foxhole with bullets flying over his head, 

being wet and cold and watching his toes turn to frost. I 

learned that he guarded the prisoners because one of them

 sketched a beautiful likeness of me in pencil and signed it. 

I wish I could thank that man. It was the first inkling I had 

as that young child...that people are people; that German 

artist, forced to take up arms instead of a paintbrush 

showed his compassion in that wonderful sketch. It tells 

me something about my Dad, too...that the good heart I 

see him reach out with to his Grandkids and 12

Great-Grandkids (one in the Navy has returned to us in 2009~

we are so joyful...and one in ROTC who became his Archival Partner)

 could even span the barbed wire of opposition~~he is a Humane being 

and that German prisoner of war was able to see that.

I'm not sure if it was the same man who carved this:

I remember the tokens we had to have to buy sugar, 

butter, coffee, meat. Although my Mom became the keeper 

of the store, and all food we could want was right there, my 

young mind had to learn that we were all in this together; 

Mom had to monitor, dole out food, and use only her share. 

I'm proud that my Parents had/have that integrity and 

passed  it on to me and my Brother. I'm still in awe at 

how Mom stepped into Dad's shoes to carry on at home; 

stocking the store my GrandDad and Dad and his brothers 

had built, dealing with customers that were neighbors,

 bookkeeping, and learning to butcher meat...in and out of 

a walk-in icebox, carrying sides of beef....oh, and taking 

care of me, too. My Aunt Ronnie, my Godmother, was 

her assistant. You hear a lot about the brave women who 

worked in the factories, "Rosie," building the war machine. 

I haven't seen anything acknowledging the backbone of 

the Nation who kept the homefires burning and people 

fed and hugged; who ran businesses that was usually

 the man's realm: the "Tootie's" and "Ronnies!" 

Mom is my HER--O...and Dad is my HE-RO.  

I'm happy to "take back my words" nowadays, (2009) when

many honors are now given to the women who also held this

country together during WWII.  Soon's I scan Mom and 

Aunt Ronnie, I'm going to put their gorgeous selves here:

[MOM_AUNT RONNIE]

My Heart is so filled with regard, compassion and 

amazement at what they endured and survived...I weep 

with anguish that it was necessary and still goes on.  

This is one way to repay those Her--os and He-ros. To 

speak. Because others spoke, I began to resolve the loss, 

terror and anger this Child experienced. Warmongers took 

my Dad away. It's possible my tender mind thought he 

abandoned me. That's my belief. I had to begin to get the 

whole picture before that could surface, and I could deal with

 the whole thing. They took my Dad from me. I'm so grateful 

he could return, only as scarred as he was. Psychologically, 

the depth of the wounds doesn't show. He had some difficult 

times when he returned, and that spilled over on Mom and 

I and took its toll on Dad. 

I must have been so confused when he left us again after 

this "Leave" and how devastating for any woman to have to 

kiss her husband goodbye, knowing 

she may never see him again.

I believe this was when English assistance first came

These days we have much more assistance in place for 

returning soldiers, yet the ravages of war make some of

 them so shaken that recovery is almost impossible, and

some continue to wage war on their families and neighbors

after returning home.  Let's all cultivate peace within our

own minds and hearts.  One by one we can become a

peaceful species.

When we pray, we ask.  That's a good thing.

Asking defines that we have paid enough attention to

see the need to ask for help...we have evaluated and

seen what   to ask for.  When we meditate, we receive a

serenity that gives the sense of peace, and the experience

of being  non-judgemental.  Let's do both...pray and

meditate, and become the stewards of our own actions.

Meditation...that's when we get to HEAR the Answers

to our Prayers!!  Through both, the body relaxes,

and throughout our being we receive healing.

Dad carried this picture folded in his helmet through the war.

BY THE WAY...IT TOOK OUR GOVERNMENT FORTY~~

THAT'S 40, FOLKS, YEARS TO MAIL MY FATHER HIS MEDALS 

OF HONOR...AND HE WAS NEVER ACKNOWLEDGED IN 

PERSON.   AWARDED THE COMBAT INFANTRY BADGE FOR BRAVERY

THE BRONZE STAR IN RECOGNITION OF MERITORIOUS SERVICE AND

MANY OTHER RIBBONS AND MEDALS I DON'T KNOW NAMES FOR.

HOW MANY MEN AND WOMEN NEVER GOT TO SEE 

THEIR AWARDS FOR BRAVERY AND SERVICE BECAUSE 

THEY DIED WAITING?????  WHY SHOULD A SOLDIER NEVER BE

GIVEN THE OPPORTUNITY TO FEEL THE WEIGHT OF THAT MEDAL

ON HIS UNIFORM?  BY THE TIME HE RECEIVED IT, IT REMAINED IN

A BOX UNTIL GREAT GRANDBOY FRANK ENCASED THE MEDALS

IN A FRAME.

AND HOW MANY OF YOU WARBABIES OUT THERE, LIKE ME, WEREN'T

SO SURE THAT WAS YOUR REAL DAD YOU WERE BEING INTRODUCED

 TO??  "YOU'RE DADDY'S COMING HOME FROM THE ARMY," THEY TOLD

ME. FIVE YEARS OLD...WONDERING..."HOW DO I KNOW HE'S MY DADDY??"

 HE RETURNED TO US IN OCTOBER 1945.  IN MAY OF 1946 IS WHEN I 

REMEMBER...AND BELIEVED IN HAVING A DADDY~~ACCEPTING HIM

AS DADDY.  HE BUILT ME A SWING!  THE BEST KIND OF SWING!

 A ROPE SWING WITH THE KNOTCHED WOOD PLANK SEAT.  I WILL 

ALWAYS REMEMBER THAT SWING, AND THE APPLE TREE THAT

HOUSED IT IN FULL, FRAGRANT, EXQUISITE BLOOM...BLUSHING

BLOSSOMS BOBBING IN JOY WITH ME AS I PUMPED HIGHER AND HIGHER

IN THEIR HEADY FRAGRANCE.

[DAD_BUTCHER]

Dad's life had been very different

The advertising world would have us buy and own so much...

I imagine what it was like, and Dad did talk about...walking in 

wet shoes, unable to dry out...no matter how cold it got.  When 

his feet were frostbitten, "Walk" was the medicine given...

and he said "It hurt like hell, but I did it."

Convoy of the Surrendering

Keep them safe

How sad that any nation should have to live like this...for the grandeur of human creation and 

capability to be destroyed in the name of Peace...such a dichotomy!

Here are Dad's words on the back of the picture:

AS I BUILD THIS TRIBUTE, MY HEART OPENS EVER WIDER TO DEAL

WITH THIS INCREDIBLE ISSUE THAT ONCE SAPPED SO MUCH OF MY

ENERGY...TO EXPRESS THE LOVE I HAVE AND NEED TO DELIVER.

THANKFULLY, BECAUSE SOME VETERANS BEGAN TO SPEAK AND

DRAW YET FURTHER COURAGE FROM THEIR DEPTHS TO REVEAL

THEIR PAIN AND DISAPPOINTMENTS, TODAY'S VETERANS ARE BETFTER

REMEMBERED AND HONORED AND ASSISTED.  AND SO I SHARE DAD'S

STORY SO ANOTHER MIGHT BE HELPED.

BRING THEM ALL HOME...SAFE, AND STRONGER...COMPASSIONATE!

THANK YOU DAD AND MOM FOR BEING THE WONDERFUL,

 FORTUITOUS PEOPLE YOU ARE THAT ENDURED HARDSHIP AND 

HORROR AND RESOUNDED WITH REVERENCE FOR ALL LIFE. 

YOU EARNED THE PRIVILEGE OF YOUR GRAND-GRAND DIMENSIONAL FAMILY, 

AND WE~~ARE SO LUCKY TO HAVE YOU. PLEASE STAY WITH US 

LONG BEYOND YOUR 78 AND SOON-TO-BE 80 YEARS.

Update:  Mom turns 85 this year, 2006..Dad approaches 87. 

Update May, 2008: Mom is of brilliant mind and gets around admirably at 87 

years of age. Dad, soon to be 89, also brilliant of mind, is in hospital, 

challenged by problems contracted, I think, largely by his time in Europe fighting 

and surviving for this country's and his own, freedom...walking on frostbitten feet, 

living in all the elements and under constant stress.  Thankfully he is one who 

was able to keep reality present for himself for the most part, unlike the many 

unfortunate veterans today who take their own lives.

DAD DIED JUST SHORT OF HIS 90TH BIRTHDAY.

REST IN PEACE, DAD.  THANKYOU THANKYOU THANKYOU.

DAD PASSED AWAY SEPTEMBER 17, 2009

HE HAS EARNED THIS EAGLE FEATHER IN SO MANY WAYS,

ASIDE FROM HIS ARDUOUS TWO YEARS IN WWII.

    He was given Military Honors; Taps sounded, The flag

     draped over his coffin, then ceremoniously, reverently it

was folded and given with reverence to Mom. His two 

Great Grandsons were in full-dress uniform in Dad's honor.

TAPS

Day is done, Gone the sun, from the lakes, from the hills, from the sky;

All is well, safely rest. God is nigh.

Fading light, dims the sight, and a star gems the sky, gleaming bright.

From afar, drawing nigh, falls the night.

Thanks and praise, for our days, neath the sun, neath the stars, neath the sky...

As we go, this we know...God is nigh...

At this writing, August 6, 2010, I heard a wonderful expression...and I

note that Dad approaches his first "Continuation" Anniversary in just

over a month from now.  I do believe that consciousness continues

in the Universe after the body passes.  I will go and sing the words to

Taps for Dad at his grave; though he is not there, I know.

THOUGHTS ON DEATH

I ONCE HAD A WONDERFUL FRIEND ON THE INTERNET 

NAMED LITTLE TURTLE WHO SENT ME THE FOLLOWING:

"THE FREE CHEROKEE PAPER SENT OUT A QUARTERLY.  

THERE IS A MESSAGE IN IT FROM CHIEF LONE WOLF.  

IT IS TITLED 

"WHAT IS A VET" 

SOME VETERANS BEAR VISIBLE SIGNS OF THEIR SERVICE; A MISSING

LIMB, A JAGGED SCAR, A CERTAIN LOOK IN THEIR EYE.  OTHERS MAY

CARRY THE EVIDENCE INSIDE THEM, A PIN HOLDING A BONE

TOGETHER, A PIECE OF SHRAPNEL (LIKE MY DAD) IN THE LEG OR

PERHAPS ANOTHER SORT OF INNER STEEL:  THE SOUL'S ALLY FORGED

IN THE REFINEMENT OF ADVERSITY.  EXCEPT IN PARADES, HOWEVER,

THE MEN AND WOMEN WHO HAVE KEPT AMERICA SAFE WEAR NO

BADGE OR EMBLEM.  YOU CAN'T TELL A VET JUST BY LOOKING.

WHAT IS A VET?

HE IS THE COP ON THE BEAT WHO SPENT SIX MONTHS IN SAUDI ARABIA

SWEATING TWO GALLONS A DAY MAKING SURE THE ARMORED 

PERSONNEL CARRIERS DIDN'T RUN OUT OF FUEL.  HE IS THE BARROOM

LOUDMOUTH, DUMBER THAN WOODEN PLANKS, WHOSE OVERGROWN

FRAT BOY BEHAVIOR IS OUTWEIGHED A HUNDRED TIMES IN THE COSMIC

SCALE BY FOUR HOURS OF EXQUISITE BRAVERY NEAR THE 38TH

PARALLEL.  SHE OR HE IS THE NURSE WHO FOUGHT AGAINST FUTILITY

AND WENT TO SLEEP SOBBING EVERY NIGHT FOR TWO SOLID YEARS

IN DA NANG.  HE IS A POW WHO WENT AWAY ONE PERSON AND CAME

BACK ANOTHER OR DIDN'T COME BACK AT ALL.  HE IS THE QUANTICO

DRILL INSTRUCTOR WHO HAS NEVER SEEN COMBAT BUT HAS SAVED

COUNTLESS LIVES BY TURNING SLOUCHY, NO ACCOUNT REDNECKS

AND GANG MEMBERS INTO MARINES, AND TEACHING THEM TO WATCH

EACH OTHERS' BACKS.  HE IS IN THE PARADE:  RIDING...A LEGIONNAIRE

WHO PINS THE RIBBONS AND MEDALS WITH PROSTHETIC HAND.  HE

IS THE CAREER QUARTERMASTER WHO WATCHES THE RIBBONS AND

MEDALS PASS HIM BY.  HE IS THE THREE ANONYMOUS HEROS IN THE

TOMB OF THE UNKNOWNS, WHOSE PRESENCE AT THE ARLINGTON

NATIONAL CEMETARY MUST FOREVER PRESERVE THE MEMORY OF ALL

THE ANONYMOUS HEROS WHOSE VALOR DIES UNRECOGNIZED WITH THEM

IN THE BATTLE FIELDS OR IN THE OCEAN'S SUNLESS DEEP.   HE IS

THE OLD GUY BAGGING GROCERIES AT THE SUPERMARKET...PALSIED

NOW AND AGGRAVATINGLY SLOW...WHO HELPED LIBERATE A NAZI

DEATH CAMP AND WISHES ALL DAY LONG THAT HIS WIFE WAS STILL

ALIVE TO HOLD HIM WHEN THE NIGHTMARES COME.  HE IS AN

ORDINARY AND YET EXRAORDINARY HUMAN BEING:  A PERSON THAT

OFFERED SOME OF HIS LIFE'S MOST VITAL YEARS IN THE SERVICE OF

HIS COUNTRY. AND WHO SACRIFICED HIS AMBITIONS SO OTHERS

WOULDN'T HAVE TO SACRIFICE THEIRS.  S/HE IS A SOLDIER AND A

SAVIOR AND A SWORD AGAINST THE DARKNESS, AND HE IS NOTHING

MORE THAN THE FINEST, GREATEST TESTIMONY ON BEHALF OF THE

FINEST, GREATEST NATION EVER KNOWN.  SO REMEMBER, EACH TIME

YOU SEE SOMEONE WHO HAS SERVED OUR COUNTRY, JUST LEAN OVER

AND SAY THANKYOU.  THAT'S ALL MOST PEOPLE NEED, AND IN MOST

CASES IT WILL MEAN MORE THAN ANY MEDALS THEY COULD HAVE 

BEEN AWARDED OR WERE AWARDED.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
WALK IN PEACE .....WALK IN PEACE.....WALK IN PEACE

LITTLE TURTLE 

 "Brothers in Arms" by Dire Straits]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k5JkHBC5lDs 

"Brothers in Arms" ~ Orchestral version ~ Mark Knopfler

I met Jack this past summer while camping.  He is a West Point man,

World War II Army Veteran and a great Campground Manager.  He 

made me the complimentary cup o' joe and sausage 'n biscuit and 

we talked about my Dad's and his military experiences. I hope to 

get back to that camp again and see this kind man and 

share some more yarns with him.

THE VETERAN'S SACRIFICE

HOW IS THE WARRIOR'S LOVE AND HONOR TREATED?

When the night has come and the fire is burning with the warmth and 

energy saved from the sun it is time to sit with the spirits, to sit with 

relatives, to talk, time to learn and time to feel.  

Grandfather said, "Little Owl, the reason I have asked you to sit with the

 children is to talk of things that bother the spirits."  He let that sink into 

the boy's mind and then continued, "The spirits feel the people of your time

 have forgotten their teachings."  Little Owl did not know why Grandfather 

had asked him to sit down with him on this night, his friends were 

expecting him to come visiting tonight and he had things to do before 

the sun came up again, so tomorrow would go smoothly. But Little Owl 

knew his grandfather chose the times and places of their long talks 

carefully and he knew that time spent with him was always an adventure.

 Tonight Little Owl's adventure would stay with him forever.  Grandfather 

put his hands together and wrinkled his forehead, he cocked his head 

a bit to the side and rocked back from his waist just a little. He then

raised his eyebrow, looking sideways at his grandson. It was his habit to 

do this when he drew on his memories and he was sizing up the mood 

and openness of the boy he was about to speak to. Little Owl knew this 

aged man and he knew this was the signal to watch and listen to him.

Grandfather could see past the hurry and scurry of people around him 

but now his words were clipped because he knew his grandson was 

becoming a man and the boy needed no easing into difficult subjects.

"The people of your time cannot claim or even feel honor when they 

no longer understand the veteran. Very few in your time understand 

the warrior's heart. They pursue material gains above all things. Little Owl, 

I would like the children to speak of the warriors of the past and the 

veterans of your time."  Little Owl looked past his grandfather's shoulders 

and saw the seven children. His heart quickened anticipating their 

reunion. Grandfather turned to the children and he said,  

"Show Little Owl how true honor cannot be purchased but 

only earned by the actions of an individual."  

Young Blood, the red child spoke first to Little Owl, 

"In my time we were able to witness the warrior's deeds. 

Our People depended upon our fathers, brothers, uncles 

and cousins who were our warriors for the defense of our

cultural, spiritual and religious ways. When the warrior was 

honored the people prospered and lived in harmony."

The white child, Snow, added, 

"Do not forget how our mothers, sisters, aunts and cousins 

protected us when the warriors were away and women stood in 

defense of the tribe. Not only did the warriors suffer but the family 

of that warrior did as well. When a warrior died, the mothers cried for the 

loss of that child and the wives felt the emptiness.  The warrior's children

 would have only the memories of their father."

Little Sun, the yellow child, 

reached out his hand toward Little Owl then folded it with a fist over his 

heart saying, "The warrior fought carrying the love and honor of the 

people. This was the source of strength that helped him or her to endure 

the sacrifices that must be made. In your time the veteran is forgotten. 

No longer do the children hear the stories of the veteran's honor. 

The role models of the children of your time are the high-paid professional

 athletes and professional musicians, the corrupt politicians and wealthy 

drug dealers. This is the shame of your time, no longer are the warriors

 recognized, people listen only to the howls of the animal."

When Night Wind, the black child spoke, 

she pointed one small index finger to the trail that a tear would make 

down her cheek, "When the warriors entered into the defense of their 

people they also carried in their hearts the knowledge of the destruction 

and the sorrow that would follow their actions. With this understanding 

the human knows that a warrior's suffering for his people will never end 

but trouble his heart for the remainder of his life. 

How many in your time, Little Owl, will understand what I have said?"

http://www.iwchildren.org/

Read about another great WWII Hero

Van T. Barfoot

And another who wrote about it

Dudley C. Gould

I Like Ike

I was a kid, but I felt something worthwhile, trusting, good, 

in Dwight D. Eisenhower. 

 He and Harry Truman were the last Presidents I felt 

trust and assurance from.

http://www.sonyclassics.com/whywefight/main.html

http://eisenhowerinstitute.org/ 

http://www.artistic-designers.com/bkgds/heroes.html 

At this updating, June 12, 2011, I've learned something I didn't know 

about Ike. I had a lapse of common sense to think that any politician 

can be truly honorable in their actions in a world dictated by the 

almighty dollar, franc, deutchmark, or whatever name it's given.  

I learned that he campaigned on newly emerging television programming

under the tutelage of the famous Ad Man; Rosser Reeves.  Ike was 

given scripts of answers to supposed questions the public would ask, and

 unsuspecting citizens dubbed in after reading scripts of questions given 

them.  The finished product made it seem that people were in conversation 

with the General, and that he off the top of his head was replying very 

eloquently and wisely.  I don't doubt his intelligence, but I am now

questioning his Integrity.  Intelligence becomes maniupulation without Integrity.

I learned that the war in "Banana Land," promoted as a civil war, was 

 a construct of Ike's government, as he and others had vested interests there.

My source:  David Halberstam's "The Fifties" which was aired on the History

Channel, Catalog #AAE-40152

THE NAVAJO CODE TALKERS

We owe them so much ~ I find this excerpt poignantly disturbing, and I

know that governments have still not learned proper respect of all people.

When Navajo boys who attended Fort Wingate turned of age, they were 

targeted by the military recruiters for drafting (as our High School boys and 

girls are today) into the U.S. military armed forces. At that time, when 

Navajos were not citizens of the United States and not allowed to vote, 

military recruiters were going throughout the federal boarding schools, 

recruiting young Navajos and other Native Americans to fight in a war 

that was foreign to them, their philosophy, and entire way of life!  

Imagine being a sheepherder in a quiet, ordered life 

and being tossed into war!

This page was started in 1997 or so...I'm glad Dad got to see it, though

it has grown much since then, and even more since his passing.

updated August 6, 2010...again June 12, 2011

info@w1ndhorse.com 

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