I know this is early but I saw this today and found it powerful. Lest we forget.
https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/...=.ab336b91d5d7
My Grandfather’s Secret D-Day Journal
I knew his role in the invasion meant a great deal to him. But I never saw his haunting, heartbreaking diary until after he died
https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/...=.ab336b91d5d7
My Grandfather’s Secret D-Day Journal
I knew his role in the invasion meant a great deal to him. But I never saw his haunting, heartbreaking diary until after he died
In the summer of 1992, my family gathered in central Minnesota for my grandfather’s 70th birthday. We were there to celebrate William J. Svrluga Sr. — father, golfer, husband, engineer, grandfather, Cubs fan, cheapskate, retiree. Seven of us joined in the celebration: Bill Sr.’s wife, Ruth, my grandmother; his two sons, my father, Bill Jr., and my uncle Dick; their wives; my younger brother, Brad, and me.
At one point, maybe between the walleye and the turtle cheesecake, the conversation hit a lull. Uncle Dick filled it. “Okay, Dad,” he asked. “What are you most proud of in your life?” I think I half expected my grandfather to say the time he shot even-par 72. What could be better than that? This was chitchat, brag-*about-the-family stuff, set up on a tee. Instead, he knocked us over with his response. “D-Day,” he said.
I remember it as both matter-of-fact on his part and jarring to the rest of us. Why, if D-Day had been so important to him, had we never heard about D-Day? We knew he had been there, part of the Allied invasion of Normandy. Right then, it became apparent how little else we understood. As the 75th anniversary of D-Day approaches, I’m again aghast that I thought he could have answered anything else.
At one point, maybe between the walleye and the turtle cheesecake, the conversation hit a lull. Uncle Dick filled it. “Okay, Dad,” he asked. “What are you most proud of in your life?” I think I half expected my grandfather to say the time he shot even-par 72. What could be better than that? This was chitchat, brag-*about-the-family stuff, set up on a tee. Instead, he knocked us over with his response. “D-Day,” he said.
I remember it as both matter-of-fact on his part and jarring to the rest of us. Why, if D-Day had been so important to him, had we never heard about D-Day? We knew he had been there, part of the Allied invasion of Normandy. Right then, it became apparent how little else we understood. As the 75th anniversary of D-Day approaches, I’m again aghast that I thought he could have answered anything else.
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