What a wonderful way to honor your great uncle, to make a contribution to your family’s collective memory, and to document the harsh and unforgiving reality of infantry combat. The fact that he was awarded the EIB is impressive. When I was documenting my Dad’s service (WWII Pacific) I found his records at the National Military Personnel Records Center had been destroyed (along with 16-18 million others) in the July 1973 fire. Thankfully he had saved his discharge papers and other records with the details of his service, so we were able to submit those to the Center and get a notarized certificate documenting his service (but without any details thereof). He fought at Okinawa, and I was fortunate enough to be stationed there in the 90’s. I had heard his stories and studied the battle since childhood, so I was able to help Armed Forces TV make an hour-long documentary about the battle and participate in interviews with U.S. veterans and Okinawans. I served as a battlefield guide for veterans that visited the island, and accompanied Japanese congregations on the somber task of searching for remains of the missing. I met my wife there — she was working for the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers as an architect (she’s Japanese-Filipino-American, her Mom and Dad were both survivors of the war). Turns out our birthday’s are identical — day, month, year. Felt like kismet to us! My son, a Green Beret, was later stationed there. We took the whole family to the island of Ie Jima, about 5 miles off the coast of Okinawa (where my Dad had participated in fierce fighting in April 1945) and were able to recreate a three-generation photograph of one my Dad had of he and a buddy next to the just-constructed 77th Infantry Division memorial to Ernie Pyle, the famous war correspondent. (my Dad was mine-detecting about 100Y away when Pyle was shot). Who could have imagined that 19 year old would beget a family so thoroughly intertwined with his wartime experience? I don’t know if the appropriate word is closure or continuity. Probably both.
What a wonderful way to honor your great uncle, to make a contribution to your family’s collective memory, and to document the harsh and unforgiving reality of infantry combat. The fact that he was awarded the EIB is impressive. When I was documenting my Dad’s service (WWII Pacific) I found his records at the National Military Personnel Records Center had been destroyed (along with 16-18 million others) in the July 1973 fire. Thankfully he had saved his discharge papers and other records with the details of his service, so we were able to submit those to the Center and get a notarized certificate documenting his service (but without any details thereof). He fought at Okinawa, and I was fortunate enough to be stationed there in the 90’s. I had heard his stories and studied the battle since childhood, so I was able to help Armed Forces TV make an hour-long documentary about the battle and participate in interviews with U.S. veterans and Okinawans. I served as a battlefield guide for veterans that visited the island, and accompanied Japanese congregations on the somber task of searching for remains of the missing. I met my wife there — she was working for the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers as an architect (she’s Japanese-Filipino-American, her Mom and Dad were both survivors of the war). Turns out our birthday’s are identical — day, month, year. Felt like kismet to us! My son, a Green Beret, was later stationed there. We took the whole family to the island of Ie Jima, about 5 miles off the coast of Okinawa (where my Dad had participated in fierce fighting in April 1945) and were able to recreate a three-generation photograph of one my Dad had of he and a buddy next to the just-constructed 77th Infantry Division memorial to Ernie Pyle, the famous war correspondent. (my Dad was mine-detecting about 100Y away when Pyle was shot). Who could have imagined that 19 year old would beget a family so thoroughly intertwined with his wartime experience? I don’t know if the appropriate word is closure or continuity. Probably both.
Wow. That's wild.