Appropriate re-post from a close friend of mine, a true American patriot and warrior (touches on women in combat).
Remembering D-Day, June 6, 1944
When in 1998 I saw the movie Saving Private Ryan, it moved me to tears. Since I was born in 1935, I was only a kid during World War II, but not so young that I didn’t realize what was going on. Growing up during that era forever left me with an abiding admiration for a generation of Americans who not only endured the Great Depression, but also unflinchingly stepped forward to do their duty when our country called.
As a young United States Air Force officer I was stationed in France only a few hours driving time from the beaches at Normandy. Early on a June morning in 1961, I drove to the site where seventeen years earlier the Allied Forces of Operation Overlord had landed. As the sun rose over Omaha Beach, the hair on the back of my neck literally stood on end as I gazed in awe at the utterly devastating field-of-fire commanded from a crumbling German bunker. Some nineteen years later, I would experience this same profound sensation as I stood atop the hill, Little Round Top, at the Gettysburg Battlefield in Pennsylvania.
Later in 1962, while flying along the Normandy coast at low altitude, I was presenting what I thought to be a noteworthy historical tour to my navigator, a major who looked “pretty old” to me. Flying west from the British and Canadian beaches of Sword, Juno and Gold, I pointed out a 100 foot cliff named Pointe du Hoc that lay between the American beaches of Omaha and Utah. After describing the remarkable D-Day assault up its near vertical face by U.S. Army Rangers, I said something to the effect, “Can you imagine how tough that must have been?” My navigator replied, “Yes, I can”, then simply added, “On June 6, 1944 I was nineteen years old. I was a private in the 2nd Ranger Battalion, and I went over the top.” Realizing that the man with whom I now flew was one of only ninety Rangers who survived the hand-over-hand climb up the shear rock face, my historical rhetoric suddenly seemed pitifully inadequate… while my navigator no longer seemed old, but somehow about two feet taller.
Only the men who were on those beaches over a half-century ago are truly qualified to comment on the authenticity of the movie. Those with whom I have spoken say that it is pretty damn close. It is a film without joy that bluntly depicts the documented horrors of a single nine-day period of combat as it really happened. If nothing else, perhaps it will help to dissuade the utterly silly notion that women should be placed in combat.
I was openly touched by this movie not only because of the profound sadness of the situations portrayed, but also because of a nostalgic remembrance of a time when duty, honor and country came first. When dodging the draft was a disgrace, character was a cherished virtue, and individuals took personal responsibility for their actions.
If you never thanked a WW II veteran for what they did, now might be a good time. There are still a lot of them among us, but they are a dying breed, and when they’re gone America will be a lesser place. We shall not likely see their likes again.
Born the same year. Only served in the Guard for 8 years. Was discharged before the Berlin situation. However, you are right on. Had relatives who served in Anzio, June 6, 1944 and one who was a guard at the Nueremburg Trials. Their stories, if you could ever pry it out of them were devastating. The difference between then and now is the tremendous amount of respect that was held for Women as compared to today when they are pictured as deprived of opportunity. All negative.