My most often contact with these men started about age twelve when my dad began taking me out golfing on the weekends. There was a man who used the first golf cart I ever saw, because as a brigade commander of the 41th Infantry in New Guinea he was debilitated by sickness. I remember one fairly good golfer who had kind of a weird back swing. I found out he was crippled while serving with the Big Red One in Sicily. My Economics professor in college served with one of the first UDT swimmers clearing barricades and mines in the surf zone before Pacific landings. I often ended up as a dishwasher at the country club and noticed the chef always limped as he moved around the kitchen. He saw my puzzled look, and said he got the limp from a wound received when he was with the Rangers at Pointe De Hoc. Those are just a few of the stories I remember among so many others I could tell or have forgotten.
I remain amazed how certain infantry divisions could be chosen repeatedly for initial assaults where they incurred terrible casualties. The corps and army commanders had favorites and somehow division staffs responded to reconstitute and retrain the rifle platoons every few weeks without losing their quality as assault forces. It seems other divisions were usually sent to less active sectors, entered combat later in time, or occupied a flank in an attack. Again, these were the most ordinary of men, so I keep hearing Aaron Copland’s Fanfare for the Common Man as I read the narratives for this essay.
Thank you for this. Those men confronted and defeated evil.
My father and uncles, friends fathers, etc. served in World War II, but didn’t talk much about it. I got the impression that they felt they did their duty when their country needed them, and didn’t think of themselves as heroes or deserving of attention for their service.
We infantrymen have been, are, and will always be the Queen of Battle. Follow Me!!
My Father was with the combat engineers and he really admired the infantry, also the tankers.
It was ordinary infantry which captured the bridge at Remagen. They performed like special forces.
Thanks, my Dad served with the 81st Infantry Division (Wildcats) in the Pacific War.
A great tribute to the infantryman on this Memorial Day, long overdue.
And lets not forget the sub sailors and airmen who flew the bomber missions. Their mortality rate was probably equal to the infantry...if not worse.
I would like to take this moment to Honor the Memory of
MSG Gilbert Arthur Secor, United States Army Special Forces,
the “Old Man”. The “Old Man”, was my mentor, my role model,
and my friend. He was killed in action on the night of 23 August, 1968 during the assault on (S)FOB4, adjacent to, and just north of Da Nang, on the coast. 17 Special Forces Troopers were killed that night. Worst day in Special Forces history for KIA.
The “Old Man”, Gil Secor, was 36 years old when he died.
Rest in Peace, my Brother.
Honor and Remembrance from a scion of the 45th Infantry Div (Thunderbirds)! My late father served with them from an unranked volunteer in 1938 for a good meal at the local National Guard Monthly Training in Oklahoma to a Lt Col in Korea.
After a tour in Vietnam he retired as a full Colonel Regular Army. The vast majority of them are passed and they are probably exchanging even more stories up there than they ever did down here! The only whoppers bigger than fishing stories are the ones that start; “There I was ...”
Miss you Dad, keep Mom & Tom smiling, I’ll be along in a while!