My father was a quiet man who said little about the war. He did relate that once he lay all night in the snow, pinned down by machinegun fire. Another time, he told of going for medical attention and then returning to find that some of his friends had been killed. Of the photos he gave me, one is my favorite: My father is smiling as he exits a war zone poultry shed with an egg in his hand.
As the film saga of Private Ryan progressed, I thought about what war does to some of its participants. My father was nervous and negative about life, and I’ve wondered if he would have been that way despite the war. My uncle, his younger brother, says he “Wasn’t like that before he went overseas.”
My mother, now deceased, said the same. Growing up, I felt that he was distant, and I was often unsure of our relationship.
I’m one of the Korean vets, we’re are starting to get thin on the ground too. War never changes, the weapons do, but not those who carry them. For the infantryman heat or cold, mud or dust, and the living and the dead. That egg was a treasure and in every war that ever was it was the same.
My father and I both saw SPR within a week of each other, ironically on opposite coasts. We discussed the movie on the phone and how it related to our own war experiences – this was the first time in fifty years of my life that we had talked in depth about combat. We decided that Spielberg did a pretty good job except for two things. First, a firefight generates a lot of smoke. While this would thwart the cameraman, it is a fact of combat. The second is the smell. Other than that, SPR mirrored some of our experiences. It also bridged a great gap between us and gave me an even greater appreciation for his service in Europe, Korea and Vietnam – Distinguished Service Cross, two Purple Hearts, two Silver Stars, three Bronze Stars, five Legions of Merit, seventeen Air Medals, Distinguished Flying Cross – all earned in combat. Like the author’s father, my father kept all that ‘stuff’ in a drawer and was very reluctant to discuss it with me – until we had a common touch point (combat) and a vehicle which with to discuss it (SPR). As I hope you can tell, I honor his (quiet) service and have a greater appreciation and love than words can express.
Baruch – thank you for your service to our country.