Tags
Airforce, Boeing B-17 Flying Fortress, fathers, hero, Heroes, humor, Memorial Day, United States Army, Victory Europe Day, World War II
I’m spending Memorial Day in Italy this year, 76 years after my father was stationed here in the Second World War. Somehow it feels oddly right to be here as the world again staggers out of a global conflict, even if this time our enemy is a microscopic one we fight with syringes instead of young soldiers.
I got my second vaccination today, and really thought I’d want to celebrate. But as I walked the peaceful rows of the American Cemetery outside of Florence, I was instead remembering my father’s quiet story of how his war ended 76 years ago.
In all the time in the War there was never a thought of it ending. We didn’t have access to newspapers or radios so we really did not know what was going on. The end was so casual. One of the guys was walking along and said that Germany surrendered…—Tech Sergeant Robert Figel, Radio Operator Gunner on the B-17 Flying Fortress Nobody’s Baby
The calm acres of the Florence American Cemetery contain the graves of over 4,400 young soldiers, and more than 1,400 more names on the Walls of the Missing.
This Memorial Day, as we honor veterans for their service, I’d also like to remember the millions around the world who lost their fight with the virus, and their families who are facing their own battles with loss and grief, often in isolation.
For the whole earth is the sepulcher of famous men; and their story is not graven only on stone over their native earth but lives on far away, without visible symbol, woven into the stuff of other men’s lives.—Pericles of Athens, (431 BCE) Oration for the Annual Public Funeral of the War Dead at the end of the first year of the Peloponnesian War
Barb Taub 
We must never forget.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It’s one thing to hear about it in books, but seeing those acres spread with white crosses, and knowing that each one represents a young soldier who died on foreign soil, whose family will never see them again… It makes me realize their sacrifice has to mean something and has to be remembered.
LikeLike
Horrible how many soldiers and other persons lost their lives, fighting against a demonic German regime. Thank you for rememberin, Barb! Best wishes, Michael
LikeLiked by 2 people
I hope we never forget to be grateful for their sacrifice.
LikeLiked by 1 person
:-)) xx So true, Barb!
LikeLike
Lest we forget.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Absolutely.
LikeLiked by 1 person
How wonderful yet somewhat strange to be there on Memorial Day. I didn’t know there was a cemetery for American soldiers in Florence. Americans always think of the cemetery in Normandy. Tomorrow I must look up others in Europe. It is fitting that you are there, where your father fought. Thank you for this wonderful post, Barb. The writing in the cross is lovely. Never forget.
LikeLiked by 3 people
Nor did I, and I’ve visited Florence several times. Must return and find this cemetery.
LikeLiked by 2 people
It’s been closed due to the pandemic, and we were so lucky to catch it just as they reopened, but before anyone else was there.
LikeLiked by 1 person
We spoke with the young soldiers guarding the cemetery, thanking them for their service. But the Hub and I were the only ones at the cemetery itself. Since they don’t allow dogs, we had to take turns to visit the lovely hills of crosses and beautiful memorials. It was just so moving to stand alone with all those brave young soldiers who sacrificed everything, and to think of all the families who grieved their loss.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Being there alone must have made the moment even more moving. I know I would have felt the same way. Best to you, Barb.
LikeLike
A wonderful post.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you so much!
LikeLiked by 1 person
❤ here’s to your father and to each and every one of these brave souls
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thanks Beth!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I visited a Canadian War Cemetery in Holland and felt the same way.
LikeLiked by 2 people
That was such a wonderful part of “Amanda in Holland.”
LikeLiked by 1 person
Jennie is right–I enjoyed that part of Amanda’s story too!
LikeLiked by 1 person
One more thing we seem to share Barb. My father was here in France and the French never let a remembrance pass by without a showing. Both of my grandfathers were here in the previous war, one Scot/Irish, the other Swedish. When standing at the memorial in our village, my thoughts turn to them and to others. Here is to our fathers and grandfathers. When the village assembles to socialize after the memorial, it is to them, and their compatriots, regardless of nationality, I raise my glass.
LikeLiked by 2 people
We are really lucky to have their memory and their legacy.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Mais oui madame.
LikeLike
My dad was a paratrooper in WWII. He seldom spoke of the war or his time there, but had nightmares when I was a child, which my mom explained “from the war.” He cried at every patriotic song he heard. And he wished our country would take Memorial Day seriously, not as a picnic. Thanks for your post, Barbara.
LikeLiked by 2 people
I was an adult before I took Memorial Day seriously. It’s never too late to learn or understand, or do something patriotic. What a heartfelt story of your dad.
LikeLiked by 2 people
We never heard about my father’s war as we were growing up. So we felt incredibly lucky that he finally shared with us. He didn’t like war or approve of it, and he resented the interruption to his education, but he never felt his service was in vain. He was proud of being a veteran, and it was his wish to be buried among his fellow veterans.
LikeLiked by 1 person
❤
LikeLike