For your freedom !

[Ben]

This photo, taken on February 23, 1944, at Hampton Roads Port of Embarkation (Newport News, Virginia), shows young American soldiers shortly before heading towards Europe. A few weeks after this picture was taken, these sons, brothers, fathers, husbands, were confronting German forces, and risking their lives for our freedom. Some survived, some were wounded, some were captured, some were killed, and some went missing, but every single one was a hero.

 

[richhodg66]

The greatest generation. Thanks for posting this.

 

[Dusty Bannister]

OMG, I had sleeping accomidations like that on one of the several ships during my tour in the Navy. There is a reason they are called "racks".

 

[Brother_Love]

The greatest generation. Thanks for posting this.

Yes, they were!!! I’m proud of all of them and my dad and his 4 brothers were part of that generation.

Ben, thanks for posting this. There are a lot of people today who have forgotten the cost of freedom!

 

[Ben]

While our flag flies today, we must remember that a huge price was paid to keep that flag where it is.

 

[462]

My father made that trip, too, except he left from New York. North Africa and Italy.

 

[smokeywolf]

Freedom is not "free". That which we, and others enjoy here in this country today, was earned, paid for with the courage and in some cases, the lives of our fathers, mothers, sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, cousins, ancestors.

 

[CZ93X62]

On my Dad's side, we lost my Uncle David in 1942 in the North Atlantic. On my Mom's side, Uncle Hank grew up speaking German, and went overseas in late 1944 well after D-Day. Most of his job consisted of interrogating captured German POWs. He didn't leave Europe until late 1948, and helped with translations at Nuremburg. Marie's Uncle Mario (recently passed) was a bomber pilot through the war in Europe, among the raids he flew was the run on Ploesti.

That such men lived and fought and prevailed is the apex of the 20th Century, as far as I'm concerned.

 

[462]

Allen,
My father enlisted at age 30, in February '42. Because of his age he was assigned as a photo interpreter, looking over recon photos to select bombing sites and assessing damage. Could be my father picked sites for Marie's uncle to bomb.

Ploesti . . . wonder what went through those bomber crews' minds . . .

 

[JustJim]

Ploesti . . . wonder what went through those bomber crews' minds . . .

Had a professor who was a pilot in the '43 raids. One night over some Scotch he mentioned they all knew they were probably not going to survive the war, so Ploesti was as good a place as any to die. "It beat crashing while doing touch-and-goes."

 

[Rick H]

My Dad circa mid 1942 in Hawaii before heading to the Solomon Islands on a Heavy Cruiser and the fighting in and around "Iron Bottom Sound".

 

[RicinYakima]

Picture of my father before going to Murmansk, USSR, as a Merchant Marine officer. Eleven of the 40 ships that started returned to New York. The highest percentage of deaths to enemy action was in the Merchant Marines.

 

[Bret4207]

Seems there's always someone someplace in the world engineering things so that young men have to die to protect those at home, and sometimes you don't need to travel far from home to fight. I won't expand on that lest it turn to the obvious course of politics.