I have a point in writing this diary. My Dad's story of his service, sacrifice for his country and down right adventures merits it's being told. I'm writing to celebrate him and so many like him who are, as so aptly named by Tom Brokaw, the Greatest Generation.
I got really tickled that Dad pooh-poohed that name but bought the book and read it cover to cover. It remains in he and Mom's bookcase even now.
Dad grew up in Norwich, Connecticut. Born in 1923 he vividly recalled the Great Depression and yet his family were "lace curtain Irish". Grandpa worked at Electric Boat in New London, Connecticut, the family had a large garden and they put up vegetables all summer, kept potatoes in the root cellar, and didn't suffer hunger during the depression years. No extras, mind you, but no privation either.
After he graduated from the local high school he attended Harvard University for a year. My Grandmother was intent he would go to Harvard, and after graduation attend Harvard Law School and become a lawyer. He'd have been a great one, no one argued more or better than my Dad.
He had different ideas. He loved the sea and travel. Against his parents' wishes he left Harvard and joined the U.S. Merchant Service in 1940. His folks were so against it that they didn't even get out of bed to say goodbye the morning their son left. The next time they saw Dad was four years later. So much for nurturing mother love.
During this time our country joined World War II. The Merchant Service wasn't nationalized however until about 1942. No matter, Dad loved it. The sea, travel, being a part of the beginnings of the Lend Lease Program brought him a lot of joy.
That changed off the coast of Haiti. Dad's Liberty Boat, The Edith, was sunk by a
German U-Boat torpedo in those waters. Dad figured those who survived the attack and who were in life boats were likely dead but no! The U-Boat surfaced, the captain and crew came above and asked if those who survived had food and water. There were those who were without clothes, there was no food and water. The German U-Boat captain ordered provisions and clothing be provided and they were tossed into the life boats. The U-Boat submerged and the survivors rescued.
Sometime later Dad was on a ship involved in the invasion of Italy at Salerno. This time a bomb came right down the smoke stack of his ship. He happened to be in the shower, thus in his birthday suit, and swam for shore. He found an ancient temple and an overcoat and spent the night there. Within a few days he was reunited with his fellow countrymen and on another boat.
Dad did this until 1947. Seven years, without a break except for Officer Candidate School, which he aced. He was an officer in the then nationalized U.S. Merchant Marines.
Still, this group were never recognized as veterans until 1989. This was a huge sore spot for Dad. He wanted a flag when he died. The powers that be told him he could buy one. Not the same and not right, he said. But he finally got his heart's fondest wish. He became a recognized veteran of the USA. Proud? Oh my gosh yes!
During his memorial service he had a flag and Taps was played. Our family is so grateful. Dad gave seven years of his life. Granted he wanted the adventure and got it. But he gave and got so much more.
So Dad, I always told you I would make sure your service to our country, like that of so many others, was recognized and appreciated. It is. I love you, miss you, grieve you and salute you.
'night Dad. Sleep tight.