My Town Monday: To Honor the Fathers and The Mothers

Saturday was the 65th anniversary of D-Day.  Many men and women on both sides of the Pond, from all walks of life experienced things that changed their lives in ways they could not have imagined. They were from all walks of life; from cities and from villages. They wore olive drab and navy blue, uniforms, work clothes and house dresses. They lived in the dark at night, and spent hours in shelters.  They experienced shortages of food, clothing and fuel.

Their courage and their stories have no boundaries.  They teach us that we do live in the same town, on this beautiful blue planet we call Earth.

Please click here and here to read about my family’s experiences at that time.

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Travis Erwin runs the My Town Monday marquis. Wander on there to see what he has to say.

Comments (4)

To Honor the Fathers…

They are fathers, grandfathers and great-grandfathers, old men now. They are forgotten heroes, many of whom as boys really, witnessed the horrors of genocide, the stench of death. grandpaandgigi

They signed up to help the war effort. To fight for their country, for what, in their heart of hearts, they felt was right. Hastily trained, they went overseas, on ships that were floating cities. My father was an optometry student, my father-in-law, an architecture student. Both were sent to Europe. My Dad had been tested to be a fighter pilot. He rated highly, but his air sicknesses changed that direction, and he was sent to work in a hospital in England. He never talked much about his experiences there, choosing only to relate humorous ones.

My father-in-law was in the engineer corps. They were sent ahead of the rest of the troops to clear mines and to build roads and bridges. He had no idea that when he was sent to the town of Buchenwald, Germany, that he would witness the some of the evils of human nature, horrors he has relived in the years since.

Neither man talked much about what they witnessed and how they felt about it, sharing only snippets of these experiences that shaped their lives. It seems to me that sometimes the quietest people have the most to say; we need to take a moment to listen, with our ears, our eyes and our hearts.

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