A Most Precious Gift

Tom Brokaw writes in his book THE GREATEST GENERATION, "At a time in their lives when their days and nights should have been filled with innocent adventure, love, and the lessons of the workaday world, they were fighting in the most primitive conditions possible across the bloodied landscape of France, Belgium, Italy, Austria, and the coral islands of the Pacific.”

There were eight boys and one girl in my father’s family. They were farm kids born in the early 20^th century in Nebraska. ,Five of the boys were taken to the places Brokaw was speaking of in World War II. 

They, as countless other Americans experienced hardship and hard work most of us can't imagine before they were called to serve their nation. The four eldest brothers were born in a farm house that had no electricity, no running water.

As soon as the boys were old enough they worked in the fields. Their days consisted of waking in the morning before dawn and doing chores. Then eating breakfast and trudging to school. Once home they were again either in the fields or doing some other work that needed to be done on the farm.

My grandmother had to tend the house, wash the clothes, can and preserve food, and cook for 2 adults, eventually 9 children, plus an assorted number of extra mouths who were there in the autumn to help with harvest. She did this despite the fact she was perennially pregnant giving birth to nine children in less than twenty years.

By the time the older boys reached eighth grade my grandfather told them, “A farmer has no need for more schooling.” That was that. School days were over.

By the 1930s the oldest of the boys were on their own. The drought and the depression drove my grandfather and grandmother along with the younger members of the family off the farm into a nearby town.

Imagine, first the grueling life on a farm without any modern day conveniences such as electricity, tractors, running water, refrigeration, central heating. Next is the worst drought in memory along with the depression. That is what the family confronted.

Just when the drought and the depression were softening the dark days WWII appeared. Five of the brothers left the fertile prairies of Nebraska. They soon found themselves in the army in the shadows of the Himalayas, in the Navy on the pacific in a destroyer, in the army on Guadalcanal and in Europe in Patton’s 3^rd Army.

Meanwhile their mother, my grandmother worried every day about her boys. For long periods of time she had little idea where they were or even if they were alive. The newspapers were filled with headlines of terrible events around the world, and the pages filled with the names of those killed, wounded and missing in action.

They also learned that there was much more than enemy bullets that could kill or incapacitate them.Two of them were in railway battalions in India and Burma where the heat and tropical diseases could drop you a quickly as an enemy bullet.

A third uncle was on a destroyer in the Pacific where there was constant danger from enemy submarines, surface ships, and airplanes. The fourth was in the army.

Although most people think of the Marines when they think of Guadalcanal, the army was there also. Guadalcanal was another disease ridden strip of hell where the danger came both from enemy bullets and from something as small as mosquitoes.

The fifth brother was seeing Europe on the fast track with Paton’s third army. He was with them all the way through the battle of the bulge. In fact he was being sent home because he had earned a silver star, a bronze star, passed up a field promotion and won a purple heart. He had racked up enough combat points when the battle of the bulge broke out. Instead of going home he was thrown back on the line where he had been during the duration.

I am amazed at both my Grandmother's physical and mental strength. She had the stamina to be able to give birth to nine children with little or no medical facilities or help for her. She was able to raise those children while suffering through the drought and the depression of the thirties, and then to see five of her sons leave, for strange places from which they might never return. Eventually the strain of the worry for her boys was too much and she suffered a nervous breakdown. How many other moms and dads bent and broke under the pressure of not knowing where their children were?

Her sons all came back. They were no longer boys. They were men. But men changed and shaped by events that seared their souls and broke their bodies. One uncle had malaria so bad that after he got home he almost lost his fight against this disease. Another came home with a silver star, a bronze star, a purple heart, and memories that haunted him the rest of his life.

They left as boys and they returned as veterans. Despite the hard lives they had led as boys. Despite the forced lack of education. Despite the drought and economic depression they had faced as adolescents, when they were called they served. They didn’t cry, “Unfair!” Or exclaim, “Send someone else we have had hard times.” They stepped forward and fate took them to their destinations.

What Mr. Brokaw writes in his book was true then, and is true today about everyone who has served or is serving. What military ranks are not filled with youth who are on the cusp of life? What military ranks are not filled with the young who are giving us something that we all recognize as one of the most delightful and precious commodities there is; the gift of their youth?

Every young man and woman who has served has paid that price by giving their nation part of their youth regardless of whether they served on the most dangerous mission or in a support role. All Americans should thank all veterans for such a precious gift. Each who serves can be counted as part of a magnificent generation.