re: D-Day: June 6, 1944

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My grandfather was a lineman in the European theater. He came in after D-Day and ran communication lines.

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A lineman was a dangerous job.

Remember all who fought.

Watched Hacksaw Ridge today. That dude was amazing.

My Grandfather, First Sergeant Wilbur J Scanlon. 508th PIR, 82nd Airborne Division. Fought on D-Day and Battle of the Bulge. Almost didn't make it home, glad he did He got blown out of a building while checking to make sure no one else was still in it, as the Germans were starting to bomb the little French village he was in. He met my grandmother in the Hospital when he got home to New Orleans.

I remember a reunion he and my grandmother had at their house with his buddies. Just a handful of old men in 508th PIR mesh ball caps, gathered around drinking cold beers and talking. I wish now as an adult I woud have understood the magnitude of what the men sitting in that room had been through and sat down and listened.

Edit to add: The force of the explosion blew my Grandfathers eyes out of his sockets. They were laying on his face when his buddy, whom I only know as "Shorty" put them back in for him while getting him to medical treatment. Shorty was at the reunion, was a cool moment. I remember how big a deal it was that Shorty was able to make it.

My thumb missed an upvote two messages up. Sorry for the accidental down vote.
I visited Normandy 12/31/1999. Will never forget those men.

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My Uncle fought in the Bocage

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I hope he kicked their snob asses

For Normandy, my Grandfather (who had served in WW I as an artilleryman) worked closely with General Bradley as his G-4 in charge of high-level supply, planning and arranging what equipment, troops and materials went onto the beach on what day (D-Day, D+1, etc. And, sorry, I can't remember which specific beaches).

In Bradley's book, "A Soldier's Story," our (usually kind) Papa is described threatening to put people on the "D-minus-1 list" to shut-down anyone who was badgering him about their own priorities. He was on the USS Augusta with Bradley during the invasion, and presumedly went ashore June 10 with him to setup the command on land.

He didn't storm the beach, but he played a big roll in the invasion, and was in the room with one of the guys who was calling the shots. It's staggering to think about what they (the entire Allied Forces) were able to accomplish. Ultimately, Bradley claimed he was the best G-4 in the European war, and Papa eventually made Major General.

Before Normandy, he was with the II Corps in England and then Africa, serving directly under General Mark Clark until General Patton took over after a couple of bad defeats. Patton turned it around and then Bradley took over for Patton and they planned the invasion of Sicily.

He left for the war before my mother entered high school and returned just before she left for college. I don't know if he came home at all in-between. He died when I was in 4th or 5th grade, and we went to his funeral in Arlington. It was a truly remarkable experience.

In addition to my great-uncle, he had three younger brothers who all served. One was a B-24 gunner in the Pacific, another was in the Army in Europe, and another was a Marine in the Pacific. The Marine spent a grand total of one day in combat. Shortly after landing at Iwo Jima, his leg was shredded by a Jap grenade. He said he was a lucky s.o.b. because after that he spent the rest of the war in a hospital in Hawaii with hot nurses! All of these men were my grandmother's older brothers. She did her part, too, working as a civilian employee for Pacific Telegraph and Telephone in Portland, Oregon, which was contracted by the Army for communications. I'm not sure what she did exactly, but I know she had learned morse code, and never forgot it. When I was a kid, she taught me how to tap out my name on the kitchen table.

My grandfather (dad's father) was in the Army Air Forces. He was in North Africa and later in the Middle East, usually connected with RAF units. He and his team went out to remote locations in the desert to set up transmitters for lost aircraft to home in on and find their way back to base. They would be out for days or even weeks at a time, relying on nothing but a map and compass to find their way. One of my most prized possessions is a picture of him in uniform standing in front of the pyramids in Cairo.

I was also lucky enough to have three neighbors who shared their stories with me when I was growing up. One served on the U.S.S. North Carolina, another on the U.S.S. Mississippi, and another drove Sherman tanks in Italy and later in France with the Third Army.

My wife's paternal grandfather, was an artilleryman with the Australian Army in New Guinea. Her maternal grandfather was in the German Wehrmacht. Towards the end of the war, he said to hell with fighting the Soviets and was able to make his way to the British lines to surrender, taking advantage of the confusion of the collapsing Reich to make his way. Both of them passed before I could ever meet them.

I was watching the Band of Brothers marathon this past Memorial Day, and wondered if we would ever see a time again where so many different people with different educational backgrounds and economic status from all parts of the country could ever come together like the 16 million Americans who served in the armed forces during World War II. So many men who one year was in high school and the next was jumping out of an airplane in France for no other reason than they thought it was the right thing to do, didn't want to be ashamed, or was looking for adventure. It really was an amazing generation.