I can no longer ask Dad to refresh the story, but during a German assault, Ernie dived into the foxhole. Dad asked Ernie if he had a weapon and Ernie told him he wasn’t allowed to, but he was loaded with M-1 clips. (not only smart from a survival standpoint, but a good way to make quick friends with a GI.) I guess I can attribute my very being to God, Dad, Ernie Pyle and the fact that in early 1943 the German Infantry was unfamiliar with the M-1 Garand.
My grandfather was a firefighter on a carrier in the Pacific. He told me stories that still haunt me. I won't go into detail, but let's just say that a shot up plane in flames was not allowed to stay on deck, pilot or no pilot. Different breed of men from a different environment. I couldn't shine his shoes.