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#1
09-21-2007, 10:51 PM
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Band of Brothers, redux……….Random Remembrances
The earlier Band of Brothers post, and the responses that it spawned has encouraged me to share another story with The Lounge.
I ask that you bear with me as I wend my way through the random thoughts that are running through my mind as I write this. I do promise, that sooner or later in this post I will share with you another story that my father shared with me about the 101st. When I get in ‘the writing mood’, my mind freewheels. Right now it’s in that mode. I really don’t know how else to describe it: I know the thoughts, ideas, and most importantly, the feelings that I want to convey…….I’m just not sure how to put the words on paper. So again, I beg your indulgence if my meandering is boring. After I read and responded to Miamipuck’s post in the earlier thread, I knew immediately that I wanted to share more about the subject, given the tenor of those who participated in the thread. Most of the time when I have an idea or a realization, it never comes to me in one piece. I’ve always described this event to myself as ‘crystallization”. Imagine a crystal sphere hanging in space with an explosive charge inside it. Film the explosion, and then run the film in reverse in slow motion. If you can envision this film, that is the best way that I can describe how my mind works when things are aligned. I want you to see the sphere intact, but I also feel that sometimes it’s even more important that you understand how it got there, as some of the pieces are likely to be more important than the whole. These things don’t come easily to me……I have to work very hard at finding the words to fit how I feel. I have some crutches to help me. My latest crutch is my fishpond. I love my fishpond. I’ve spent the whole spring and summer building it with the help of my oldest son. We worked very hard through some uncomfortably hot and humid days to get it done. The sense of accomplishment on both of our parts is tremendous, and it just increases the enjoyment even more as I sit beside it, whether I’m feeding the fish, listening to the frogs bellow, admiring the plants and flowers or just generally allowing the sights, sounds and smells to overcome me. Add to that that it’s now early autumn here in New England. If you’ve never been in New England in the 90 odd days that comprise September, October and November, I would humbly suggest to you that you haven’t yet lived. Today was one of those perfect ‘bluebird’ early fall days here…..crystal clear blue skies, mid to high 70’s, no humidity, and a gentle breeze. The world seems at peace with itself on days like today. After I responded to Miamipuck I knew that it was time to mix up a Tanquery & tonic and sit down by the pond and let my mind go into ‘crystallization’ mode. I really never know where it’s going to go, and right now is the first time that I’ve ever tried to describe it. What you’re reading is the product of that process. I can assure you that I will re-read and edit it a number of times before I post it. If something’s worth doing, it’s worth doing as well as one can do it…….That I learned from my father and grandfather. The older that I get (I’ve just crossed into the decade that begins with a 6), the more I seem to understand the old saying of “youth being wasted on the young” and the more I hate myself for that very understanding. There are some days that it is exceedingly painful for me to even walk, given the 3 ‘scopes on each knee over the past 15 years, and the 2 spine surgeries in the last three years. That being said, it still seems like only a few days ago that I was wandering center field, chasing down fly balls with the effortless ease of a gazelle, and never appreciating what I could do then as much as I do now: again………wasted on the young. In any case, every year as I grow older, it’s gets a bit more difficult to ‘get into shape’. Add to that the fact that I’ve always been pretty active…..If I’m not doing ‘something’ that requires physical activity, Roll all of this ‘stuff’ together into a big yarn-ball, and that’s where you find me right about now. Enjoying the moment……sitting back and reminiscing…….letting the wheels spin at whatever speed they wish. Back to the “Screaming Eagles”…….the 101st Airborne. Dad missed the Normandy jump. He was called back home on emergency leave….told that his father was dying of pneumonia. Grampa pulled through, and my father missed the horror of a botched drop where many of his company were killed. The following story has to do with Holland. It’s been a long time and my memory is somewhat vague, but I think it happened around Eindhoven. Even if I have the location wrong, it really doesn’t matter, as it’s the story that counts. His company was making their way through the hedgerows in some pretty fierce, close-in fighting with the Germans. For those of you who are familiar with what a hedgerow is, and the history they played in the Allies march across Holland, I probably don’t need to say much more. For those who may not know about them……A hedgerow is an incredibly thick overgrowth of thick brush that lined many roads and divided many fields across the lowlands and farmlands of some countries in Europe. Some were so thick that tanks actually could not crash through them. Now………Imagine the German infantry and armor, dug-in in a defensive position, taking advantage of using the hedgerows as cover. That’s what the 101st was facing. It was nasty, bloody, close-in combat, and the carnage was everywhere. I remember dad telling me that they attempted to anticipate and time the fire of the German machine guns when they had to sprint across a road, from the hedgerow on one side to the hedgerow on the other side. They’d go across one or two at a time; no sense in giving the enemy too many men at one time to shoot at. They’d get up whatever head of steam that they could and sprint across the road. During one of these sprints, the old man got hit. That, in and by itself, is bad enough, but the devil is in the detail………. The way I remember him telling it, he was a bit more than half-way across the road when he got hit in the ‘groin’ in mid-stride. Well, it wasn’t quite exactly in the ‘groin’. To be blunt, my old man had just gotten shot in the nuts. He said that it did happen to hurt like hell, but he made it across to the other side, where some of his buddies were waiting. He was bleeding like the proverbial stuck pig, and they ripped his pants off to see how badly he had been hit. He said that he seemed to remember that he was screaming and cursing a blue streak…..something like “those dirty blankety-blank no-good blankety-blanks just shot my balls off”. Evidently it didn’t take too long for his buddies to evaluate the damage: Yes, he had indeed taken one right in the nuts, but lo-and-behold, the bullet had passed right through the scrotum, directly between each of the precious orbs without even nicking either of them! Yup, he was bleeding like hell, and it hurt like hell, but there was no lasting damage done. Once they stemmed the bleeding (I never did manage to ask him exactly how they did that?) first came the chuckles and shortly thereafter the laughing began. I’m trying to imagine exactly what that scene would have looked like had it been captured on film. As an aside, one thing that I distinctly remember was the slimmest glimmer of a smile on my fathers face as he told me this story. So here I sit, telling this story as a testament to dumb, cosmic luck. A half an inch in either direction and I would never have even been a gleam in the old mans eyes. I sure wish that he was still around so I could ask him to tell the story again, in hopes that he might remember another little tid-bit that he had omitted in earlier tellings. So……What does it all mean? Sometimes I think that I get part of it…..Sometimes I think that I don’t have the slightest clue. I do like to think that I’ve learned some worthwhile things in my 60 odd years trampling around good old terra firma. One thought that I’d like anyone who reads this to ponder is………Where are you at with your father? It’s taken me many years to realize things that I was blind to as a young man, when it was more important to me to wean myself from his influence than it was for me to open my mind and benefit more fully from the wisdom that he had accumulated over the years. It was my loss……….Don’t let it be yours. 
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#6
09-22-2007, 04:22 PM
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Re: Band of Brothers, redux……….Random Remembrances
[ QUOTE ]
more, more! [/ QUOTE ] Agreed, keep them coming. My Dad and I have a great relationship. We go fishing all the time and play poker in the same room at the Hard Rock in Hollywood Florida. He was not in the war but he has some great stories of being a cop in NYC, that are pretty damn funny. So I know how you feel when you tell these stories Myrtle.
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