D-Day, June 6, 1944. That was the day the Allies stormed the beaches of Normandy. Over 156,000 Allied troops landed on D-Day. There were approximately 10,000 casualties. Of the 6,603 US casualties, 1,465 were fatal. D-Day was just the beginning of a long offensive to defeat Hitler’s Nazi army. The Allies would suffer many more casualties before the Germans surrendered eleven months later.
I was not yet born when Germany surrendered on May 7, 1945. I was born 26 days later. But, my father, who was too young for World War I and too old for World War II, knew some of those men who stormed the beaches of Normandy. He had told them stories as they sat on the courthouse lawn on summer evenings. He had hung out with them at Ivan Smith’s soda fountain. He had taken them hunting, fishing, target shooting, and swimming. He had watched them play football and they had watched him box. He taught them in Sunday school. Those men weren’t faceless troops. They were his friends.
As I grew up, my dad taught me to respect the men who fought to defend our freedom, whether in Europe or the Pacific. He knew the men in our town who had served. Those men never spoke to me of their service, but my dad spoke for them. I learned to respect them.
Mr. Moore was the butcher for MFA and later G&W grocery. I saw him as a war hero. He was one of those boys who had hung out around my dad. He’s also the one who told me the local VFW considered my dad an honorary member. In his 90’s, Mr. Moore was able to attend the 60thanniversary commemoration of D-Day. When I asked him about it, he told of the warm reception from the older French population and acknowledged the beach was much more peaceful now.
Mr. Parkhurst didn’t grow up in Mt. Vernon, but he was a prominent member of our community and the father of my childhood friend. Mr. Parkhurst was an officer in the National Guard and a leader in the local VFW. When I played the general in the high school play “The Mouse That Roared”, I wore his uniform. For the play, he obtained stars to replace his silver leaves. I once saw a picture of him as a lieutenant on the beach on D-Day. Mr. Parkhurst is the one who saluted my dad at my dad’s funeral. The respect was mutual.
These are but two of the many Americans who served to protect our freedom. They were extraordinary ordinary men. We owe them all a great debt of gratitude.
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