Remember

My Father, Henry, was a war hero. A fact my sisters, brothers, and I knew nothing about for over sixty years after the end of World War II. He died in an automobile accident in 1953 without speaking of his time in the war with anyone we know of. Our mother, Betty, who worked in an ammunition factory during the war, only knew that he had fought in Europe. She heard no details of his service, not even a “war is hell” description, offered by many veterans of war.

If not for finding, in 2015, a hidden box filled with pictures and notes from his time in Europe we would have never known of his heroism. A small brown book with dates and locations was especially informative. We were able to follow him during the Battle of the Bulge as his unit was chased out of Krinkelt, Belgium on December 17, 1944.We saw how his division crossed the Rhine River at Remagen by way of the historic Ludendorff Bridge in March of 1944. We learned of his involvement with the liberating of concentration camps as his unit rushed across central Germany. They finally met with General Patton to cross the Danube as the war in Europe came to an end.

After researching and writing about Father’s war time experiences, I recently realized I was missing something in telling his story, the imagery of what he experienced: the apple pies the citizens of the small towns would bring to the soldiers when they first arrived in Belgium,  the beautiful stone churches and cobble stone streets throughout many of the towns, getting unexpected Christmas presents while sitting around a fire to keep warm while the Battle of the Bulge raged on, the beautiful picture of a small girl playing in a bed of flowers. This is what kept them sane, what kept them human, during the horrors that surrounded:  the smell of smoke, loud explosions, and the wallowing of the farm animals, as the initial hour and a half bombardment marked the beginning of the Battle of the Bulge.

“A Farewell to Arms” by Ernest Hemingway captures the horror of war through a love story. He does so with great imagery and detail. Hemingway was an ambulance driver during World War 1. His experience enabled him to create powerful imagery for his novel. It takes a lot of hard work for someone who did not experience an event to piece together an accurate account of an indescribable time. But, such is the quest of a writer.

It has been said that you exist only as long as you are remembered. Henry’s book, “What is a Hero”, tells many stories about living a life without our father. The picture on the front is of our mother and father shortly after they were married. My book, “Fatherhood a Journey Through”, from the 1990’s, also describes living without our father.

Whether it is writing a great poem, a great novel or an exposé of their life, people write to be remembered. Our father’s life is something well worth remembering. My next book will contain a descriptive account of his heroism, to be shared by his family and anyone else interested. Writing this book is not only fulfilling and fun – it is a way to ensure he is memorialized.

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