Two Marches ago, while vacationing in France, we walked
through the military cemetery, after earlier visiting nearby Normandy Beach,
where the majority of the casualties now resting in that cemetery lost their
lives.
There was a “Visitors’ Book” where you could write in your
name and where you’re from, and leave a comment if you cared to.
My comment included a single word:
“Heroes.”
While we celebrate the holiday, it’s worth taking a moment
to remember those guys.
They were just regular people.
And they died really young.
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In the back of St. Ambrose Church in the Italian-American section of St. Louis called the Hill
there is a large binder filled with photos of young, good looking boys in uniform, with the addresses in the neighborhood where they grew up. At the end of the book it tells you these were the boys who died in World War II.
Whenever we talk about "The Greatest Generation", we shouldn't just think of the old men who fought in the War, but the young boys who never came back.
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