My dad was a snot-nosed 17-year old kid on this day back then....a PFC BAR Rifleman, 1st Marine Div, G27
He was in the first wave to hit the beach....good thing too because the Japanese weren’t zeroed in with their firepower. The 2nd and 3rd waves were the ones that literally caught holy hell coming ashore. He really never talked much about it until the last few years of his life. The things he told us were almost unbelievable about how bad the fighting was. A year or so before he passed, the USMC sent a contingent to his home and presented him with a commendation for his WWII service. He passed a couple of years ago.
FWIW, he had me shooting a little single-shot .22 by the age of six. He taught me how to hunt, fish, live off the land...and how to fight. He was more than just my dad, he was my best friend, my hero and I miss him terribly so.
Back then, he was the same age as this little twerp, Hogg, but 100 times more a man...lugging around a BAR killing America’s enemy so little snowflake twerps like Hogg are free to go around and bitch & moan about guns.
These men and women are a national treasures we can t replace. Their stories are for the most part lost. A true shame for us but a blessing to them for not having to relive the events. I met a man that had landed on the third day of the battle for Iwo Jima. We never talked about it. He was an artillrymen in the USMC. Survived Iwo Jima and three women over nearly ninty years. All we ever talked about was his wives and his career and hunting elk.