Respect does not even begin to tell the story …

They are called “The Greatest Generation” for a reason.

Let me tell you about the “Sappers.” Technically they were “Combat Engineers.” Combat Engineers has a nice ring to it, unless 77 years ago today you had that title. During the invasion of Omaha Beach on D-day, the sappers job after they landed was to charge up the hill to find the land mines and clear a path for their comrades.

Tom Brokaw, in his book, The Greatest Generation, recorded the stories of some veterans who came back years later to visit Omaha Beach, this is what they said.

” … that hillside was loaded with mines, and a unit of sappers had gone first, to find where the mines were. A number of those guys were lying on the hillside, their legs shattered by the explosions. They’d shot themselves up with morphine and they were telling where it was safe to step. They were about twenty-five yards apart, our guys, calmly telling us how to get up the hill. They were human markers.”

They described the scene as calmly as if they were remembering an egg-toss at a Sunday social back home. It was an instructive moment for me, one of many, and so characteristic. The war stories come reluctantly and they almost never reflect directly on the bravery of the storyteller. Almost always he or she is singling out someone else for praise.

2,500 American soldiers made the ultimate sacrifice that day. 2,500 brave individuals would never see their families and loved ones again. They would never again have the privilege of standing when they heard the line, “Oh, say can you see.” They charged up the beach, knowing the odds were not in their favor. They sacrificed themselves for God, country and comrades. They knew they were part of something greater than themselves. Respect does even begin to tell the story. As someone said, They died fighting Hitler and the Nazi’s so that today’s kids could call anyone they don’t like or agree with, “Hitler and Nazi’s.”

Salute, Poppy

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