<p>Sixty-three years ago today my dad was outside Portsmouth in the War Room with Ike. In the months leading up to that day, he and others like him in the army OSS had been planning Operation Overlord.</p>
<p>If those like my father who served can now be considered heroes, then it must also be admitted that he was a reluctant one. Older than most, he had been pressed into service by some military brass who had seen firsthand his skill as a civilian contract engineer. As the only son and brother to his family, he refused to attend officer candidate school due to the time it would have taken away from them before his posting overseas. He married my mother on a weekend pass just before he left for Europe. Due to his part in planning the airborne invasion, he became known as “the corporal with the responsibility of a general.” The logistics were a nightmare, working as they were from only sketchy maritime maps. After the war, he was involved in the partitioning of Berlin.</p>
<p>He never spoke of that time. Growing up, all my siblings and I knew was that he had served in England. Decades later my brother, who was by then a jet jockey in the navy, asked him about it. In reply, my dad asked, “What’s your security clearance?” (Answer: Pretty blessed high.) Only then did my father talk a little about what he did. </p>
<p>Post-war he was asked to stay on as part of the new CIA. He refused. He had answered the call when needed and that was enough. He had given my brother some glimpses into a covert life: cloistered, 24/7 armed escort (including bathroom breaks). One of the men in his unit let slip a tiny reference to the invasion over dinner one night; my father never saw him again. </p>
<p>Following the success of the mission, very occasionally my father was allowed to request a night’s leave in town. When he could get two tickets to the opera or ballet, he always gave them away to the first serviceman with a date that he found.</p>
<p>Last summer I met a man who’s been to what is now a memorial in the War Room. He said some of my father’s papers are on display there. I do plan to visit someday.</p>
<p>Unbeknownst to my father at the time, his cousin had graduated in the second class of WASP. That group’s story is truly harrowing and inspiring. So many of them died serving their country, and so few of us today know of their sacrifice. Because they were women and blocked from enlisting during the war, they were not “officially” recognized as having served, for the purpose of obtaining some benefits, until the 1970s–thanks to the efforts of a champion in the form of Barry Goldwater who supported them tirelessly against the formidable opposition of then-President Jimmy Carter and the VFW, among others.</p>
<p>My father is gone now, as is his cousin. My FIL, who earned a Bronze Star in the South Pacific theater, is still with us at age 88. His memories, which he’s shared with my husband, stand as first-person testimony to the horrific nature of war. Combat changed him, and the other young men like him, forever even though they were able to go on and live happy, productive lives. </p>
<p>Thanks for posting, over30. Here’s to the memory of The Greatest Generation and gratitude to all who serve.</p>