Five Young Men
In the Northeastern US, five boys grew to be young men. Their families were of Eastern European heritage. They, however, were all born in this country as first-generation Americans.
Three of them were brothers. Two were not related – either to the brothers or each other – at the time. They would later come be related to the three brothers, and to each other, by marriage.
All of them were born relatively early in the 20th Century – during the 1910s and 1920s. They grew up during the Great Depression. All of them were young men on 7 December 1941.
All of them served in World War II.
The eldest of the brothers went into the Army. He became a paratrooper with the 82nd Airborne Division. He fought in North Africa, Sicily, Italy, and France/Belgium. He damn near didn’t make it back, finding himself a bit too close to the impact point of a German high explosive round during the Battle of the Bulge. His family was notified that he was missing and presumed dead.
With apologies to Mr. Clemens: the reports of his demise turned out to be somewhat premature. He was recovered by friendly forces, still alive; though grievously injured, he lived. He eventually did die – close to 48 years later. He’s buried in Arlington; the letters “SS” and “PH” appear on his grave.
The middle brother served in the Navy. He served aboard ships in both the Atlantic and Pacific theaters. He saw Rio at Carnival, as well as various exotic locations in the Pacific. His service was reasonably uneventful, even if not always pleasant. He specifically disliked his assignment to the crew of a fleet oiler – that assignment made him nervous as hell.
He came back from war with no serious injuries. He died at home, in his sleep, a few years after his older brother. He’s buried in his spouse’s family cemetery, close to where they lived after he retired.
When he was old enough, the youngest of the brothers also joined the Navy. Like his Navy brother, he also served in the Pacific. But unlike his brother’s Navy service, his was anything but uneventful. His ship was hit by a kamikaze late in the war.
He too escaped any serious injuries and survived the war. He died about 2 years after his middle brother. He’s buried in the veteran’s section of a cemetery about an hour away from where he retired.
Both of the other young men served in the Army. One served in the South Pacific, in supply; his war was reasonably uneventful. The other, who was a bit older, served in a medical unit in Italy – at Anzio, and at other locations on the peninsula. As you might imagine, though not heroic his wartime service wasn’t what you’d call uneventful. Both returned without serious physical problems.
When they returned, these two men ended up marrying sisters. And in doing so they acquired three brothers-in-law – four, counting each other – who were also veterans.
The older of these two passed away a few years ago; he’s buried in a National Cemetery about an hour’s drive west of where he owned his business. The younger of the two is still alive. I guess that makes him the last man standing.
All five returned from the war and got on with their lives.
Two of them made the military a career, retiring in the 1960s. One reentered the military, becoming a member of the US Air Force; he participated in the Berlin Airlift – and was in SAC during the Cuban Missile Crisis. The other stayed in the Navy, serving in various places – the last being off the coast of Vietnam shortly before he retired. Each established a second civilian career after retiring from the military, working at that second career for years before finally retiring permanently in the 1980s/1990s.
The other three opted for civilian life. The man wounded in Belgium made a reasonably full recovery, all things considered; he was able to work, and supported himself and his family. The other two pursued careers in business. One of them chose to own his own small business; the other chose a career in industry.
All five of them raised and supported families. They became parents, then grandparents. They retired, grew old, and with one exception, have now passed from this earth – as have two of their wives. That’s simply the natural order of things.
With one exception, none of these men were heroes. And even the one who’d been decorated for valor and wounded in action didn’t consider himself “special”. All of them were just normal, ordinary Americans of their generation. They served their country, then they came home and got on with their lives.
You might be wondering what my point is with this article. I’m not completely sure I have one, except . . . . I knew these men personally.
Four of these men were my uncles. One was my father. And he’s on my mind today.
Like myself, Dad was once a military reservist.
He was a military reservist on 7 December 1941.
Dad passed away before 11 September 2001. In a way I’m glad he did.
Why? Because on 11 September 2001, I knew – viscerally and firsthand – the same burning, frustrating, killing rage he must have felt on 7 December 1941. His homeland had been attacked, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could to change that. All he could do in the short term was watch, and rage from afar.
No one should experience that twice in a lifetime. Though I’m sad he’s gone, I’m also glad he didn’t have to go through that experience again.
But Dad knew he could do something to help his nation even the score. And along with millions of others, including his brothers and brothers-in-law-to-be, he did exactly that. In doing so, he helped secure his homeland relative peace and prosperity for half a century.
Rest in peace, Dad; you’ve earned it. As have the three of you, Uncles Stan, Joe, and Bill.
And even though it sounds so damned inadequate: thanks to you all – and to you too, Uncle Norb.
Dziekuje, tata. Dziekuje, moich wujów.
Category: Blue Skies, Pointless blather, Who knows
And their tradition of service and honor carried on to their sons, and to their sons after them.
And your thanks aren’t inadequate. You already thanked them, by carrying on their tradition of honorable service. Actions speak louder than words. My father and his brother served, during the conflict in Southeast Asia. Both of my grandfathers were in the Pacific Theater in WWII, one a pilot, the other a crew chief on a B-29. My great grandfather was a stoker/conductor on a troop train in the First World War in Europe.
You say that you felt the burning visceral anger of seeing the homeland attack and not being able to do anything; I respond: Sir, we got this one. You did your time. Let us carry the guidon. We know you have our six. We’ll move the ball forward. And in time, our sons will take up our sword and shield, and carry on where we left off. Let us pray there there are always men like you, and your father and his brothers to defend our homeland and liberty.
Thanks indeed.
Thanks, Hondo, for writing this.
Thanks for adding this piece. My father died August 8, 1996. He was in Overlord, the Marsellies landings and Okinawa as a signalman aboard the USS Henrico (APA-45). On the second day of the Okinawa operation the bridge took a Kamikaze hit. I never heard him talk much about it, but he and I am very lucky. God rest and keep you Gentlemen. May we be worthy.
Thank you, Hondo. What a fine piece of writing.
That was definetly a fine write up. Military service seems to run in some families. My Grandfather was a mechanic in WWII, My Uncle a Vietnam-era vet, my older Brother was a radar technician (I’m pretty sure what it was called) on the USS Francis Hammond (sp?), I’m an Infantryman in the Army, 1 nephew is a Marine reservist, and another nephew is finishing up SF training.
your story gave me chills, great piece. my grand father served on the USS hunter Liget in the pacific in WW2, my fathers brothers all served in vietnam, my father met his wife, my mother, through her brothers that were in his unit in the mid 70s. myself and my older brother joined the army with in 2 months of each other in 02, me as infantry, he was CA. I broke my back in ’05 and was told take a desk job or go home, i went home. my brother reclassed to engineer and is a drill sergent at Ft Leonard wood now. i love to hear stories of other military families with long heritage of service. especially a story so well told
Thank you for sharing this story
My parents were both still with us on 9-11 and we got to talk about the differences between it and their experience being in DC on December 7, 1941. Just as they had done then, I went to work!
Thanks for this, Hondo. Well done.
Thanks Hondo; at 72 years old, my fathers and uncles also served during WW-II. My father was one of 7 brothers, and of those 7 5 were in the military during that war, 2 were too young. That is how it was back then. If a man was “able bodied” he served and most often as a volunteer, as opposed to being drafted. When my father went to war, he left a wife, myself and two sisters at home, and only with a 2nd wound/Purple Heart did he consider coming home for a recuperation leave, going back to be in Europe to fight until VE day.
@5. I agree that some families do have a STRONG military tradition. There’s been someone from my family in uniform for the last 100 years or so. And I married into another military family. I met my bride of 22 years when she was an intel collection and jamming specialist in Germany.
Now, our son stands watch at Scholfield Barracks.
Mt dad and his brother both served in Korea; he was drafted a Marine and served as the Regimental S2 NCO for the 5th Regiment, 1st Marines. My uncle was an Officer in the QM Corp. My moms Uncle was a bomber pilot in WW2 and retired a COL in the late 70s as the PMS of Florida State University. Both of them died this past year.
I served from 1983 to 2009, Army MP all the way. My son also served an enlistment in the MPs, joining in 2001. We deployed together to Iraq in 2003-2004.
Excellent Hondo. Thanks!
9 members of my family have served in the military. My Dad and his two brothers during WW2 in the Navy. My Dad also served during the Korean War. My Mom’s two brothers both served in the Army during WW2, one of those received a Bronze Star w/V Dev as a medic in Italy. My older brother was a Major in the Air Force. I served in the Army in RVN. I have a nephew in the Air Force now. My oldest son is a 1Lt in the 3d ID serving in Afghanistan as I type this. Serving is what we do!
My grandfather was an infantryman in Italy in WWII-he had six brothers who were all in the war in one shape or form. In late 1944 my granddad was wounded and evaced to a replacement depot in France. He did office work during the day and played baseball during the evenings during the last few months of the war. One day one of his brothers came into the office where he worked because he was at that same depot and had gotten a letter from home saying where my granddad was-the story is that he had been watching my granddad play baseball for weeks and hadn’t recognized him.
They all came home and got on with their lives, my granddad died two months after 9/11 at age 86.
A terrific reminder of how patriots conduct themselves. Thanks for posting this.
I recently started thinking about my family’s relationship to the Military after having discovered Don Shipley and TAH. I found out that going back to the Rough Riders I’ve had someone either related by blood or by marriage in the service of this country. I’ve long wanted to write about it but I don’t believe I could ever do it the justice it deserves. (esp, since when I try to put A and B together I get purple) So thanks Hondo and to you others that have that have showed honor runs blood deep.
I really loved what #1 said: “Sir, we got this one. You did your time. Let us carry the guidon. We know you have our six. We’ll move the ball forward. And in time, our sons will take up our sword and shield, and carry on where we left off. Let us pray there there are always men like you, and your father and his brothers to defend our homeland and liberty.” I get chills plus snot and tears when I read this. Thank you all so very much!
My Dad, when I told my parents I would going to Iraq, took me for a short walk with our cigars. He was crippled with arthritis, the damage from colon cancer, one lung, one kidney, and a hernia that ignored, and lifetime of hard, back breaking work after his 3 years as a Bombardier on a B17 (96th Bomb Group, 339th Bomber Squadron). Yet, he regularly took short walks with his cigars to relax and reflect. Dad recalled the anguish he felt after Pearl Harbor, and he signed up right away in the Army Air Corp, and assigned to the 8th Air Force. After training, his crew was sent to Snetterton Airfield, where they participated in all the largest raids on Germany. At 32 missions, the war was over in Europe. He mustered out of the Army in my home town, met my Mom on a blind date, had 7 of us kids, and raised us all with the innate sense of duty and loyalty to America. I still live here, and relish in how many people still remember Mom and Dad and all they did for the community, as did all the WWII Veterans that discovered our wonderful little town during pay day. While we walked, he told me stories of his war. Stories I never heard before. Stories that nobody in the family heard before, even Mom didn’t know about Dad’s wartime efforts. Shot down 3 times, once in France that would make a great escape movie with the French underground, friendly fisherman, and perilously close call with the Kriegsmarine off the coast of Jersey Island. The other two shootdowns resulted in destroyed aircraft that made their way back to England, only to crash atop the Dover cliffs. One mission over Poland nearly got Dad blown in two. As he rose up from the bombsight, his heated suit quit working. While looking to find out why, he noticed a 40mm holes in the plexi nose on either side of him…then he found the hole in his flight suit. Had he been on the bombsight for a moment longer,… Read more »
My Dad is pretty closed-mouth about his military service. I recently found out he was part of the ASA, stationed in Hokkaido, Japan (where I and my sister were born). He was an analytic equipment operator with a top secret security clearance. We tease him, telling him that he was a spy, and he says that now we know, he’ll have to kill us, LOL! He did not re-up as he would have gone to Korea next and my mother was against it since family couldn’t go with. We have quite a few family members who have served – my grandfather was a doctor, serving in North Africa and Italy during WWII. He was in the Colorado National Guard before that. My Dad’s brother was a helicopter pilot in Vietnam, shot down over Cambodia and received the Medal of Honor posthumously in May 2002. Their youngest brother served as a warrant officer during Desert Storm. A couple of my grandmother’s brothers also served in WWII. My husband’s brother is a retired Col. from the Kansas National Guard, previously serving active duty in the Army at the end of the Vietnam War. Their Dad was a Navy pilot at the end of WWII who never saw action. His brother retired as a brigadier general, having served in the Pacific during WWII. My husband’s grandfather served in WWI and they have ancestors that served in the Civil and Revolutionary Wars. My other grandfather desperately wanted to serve in WWII, but he was working in an essential industry and wasn’t eligible. It was something he regretted all his life. Now we’re starting a new generation. One of my nephews is a young officer in the Army, my son is in the CO Air National Guard, and my daughter is headed to BMT at Lackland in a couple of weeks, also for the COANG. Her boyfriend (soon to be fiance) just swore in for the Army National Guard and is leaving in Oct. Since I wasn’t really an Army brat, I was 2 when Dad got out, it’s all been an interesting experience so… Read more »
Thanks so much for sharing…
Dad passed 8 years ago – but here’s a piece of history he shared late in his life about the lead-up to WWII.
Shortly after 7 Dec, he enlisted in the Navy. He related being on a drill field at basic when the instructor standing in front of several hundred kids reads off the names of about 12 guys – Dad’s name among them. They were to report to the second floor of some non-descript building, where they were tongue-lashed like he’d never imagined, being accused of being some senator’s sons, and if he ever got hold of them again they’d be… you get the idea. Dad was terrified – he was from a lower middle class immigrant family, and had no clue what was going on until long after the war.
Dad started work changing batteries on airplanes (S-42 flying boats) working for Pan Am in Miami and Dinner Key. Everyone knew war with Japan was imminent in the mid-to-late 1930’s, so the government struck a deal. Pan Am was using flying boats across the South Pacific; if they’d map the islands, anchorages, shorelines, currents, weather, etc., their employees would be kept stateside during the conflict.
To his dying day he felt guilty about what had transpired. One of his sons went to Annapolis, graduated in the late 60’s and did three tours in southeast Asia. His grandson is a fighter pilot currently serving – and his Grandpa is there in the cockpit every flight.
God I miss him.