Veteran: There is no real glory in war

 I served from Jan. 16, 1943, to Jan. 13, 1945. I am 86 years old. landed at Omaha Beach on D-Day, June 6. It was well planned but turned into almost total disaster. Everything that could go wrong did. How or why I survived I have no idea. After six weeks of hedgerow fighting, day and night 24 hours a day with the enemy, one hedgerow away, I was promoted to guard leader. I was wounded July 12, 1944, and discharged Jan. 13, 1945. The details would take a book. Had I had a camera for photos it would have gotten broken.

 I think history shows that in World War II this country did unite and get the job done. We simply came home and went to work and produced a stable and great country.  Perhaps the biggest misconception is that we all came home marched down Broadway with bands playing and had a glorious time. Many never came home. A lot of us came home in wheelchairs or wearing ill fitting cheap prosthesis supplied by the government. Some details I would like for them to remember is there is no real glory in war. There is a lot of horrible death and destruction, and terrible wounds that never heal.

 

 I have been very, very fortunate to survive the things I have lived through. I have had a wonderful life and still enjoy life every day. My friends and community remember my service and thank me for it. The government has long since forgotten it.

 

 I trained as a tank destroyer in Texas. I sailed from Newport News, Va., June 6, 1943, to Casablanca Africa — crossed northern Africa. I joined the 1st Infantry as a rifleman. I landed in Sicily near Gela. I fought the campaign in a rifle company. There was tough fighting up one hill after another with little cover. The Germans were a well- trained fighting force with experience. The last major battle was in the mountains at Torina. I went to England early November 1943. I trained for the Normandy Invasion. I