Another member of the dwindling "greatest generation", and WWII heroes passed away this week.
Dad's company sized unit was clandestinely dropped off onto Okinawa in early 1945, a week before the invasion fleet was to arrive, with a do-or-die mission to destroy as many Japanese suicide boat bases as possible. The men of that unit, with no support, and on an enemy held island with no way off except to wait for the invasion forces, accomplished that mission at a great price.
A recipient of the Silver Star for his actions in performing that mission, he was one of fewer than a dozen who survived it, and spent the next year in an Army hospital recovering from wounds from Japanese hand grenades and machine gun fire.
Dad, at 92, was basically ready to go. He broke a hip two months ago, had no interest in the necessary rehabilitation, and had recently taken the step of divesting himself of all but a few of his cherished horses so he could insure their continuing good care, which were really what had kept him interested in life since Mom died in 2012.
He went peacefully in his sleep, did not succumb to some debilitating disease, and pretty much at a time of his choosing.
A photo of him on horseback last year at 91, preparing to ride over his beloved piece of Texas ... a fitting way to remember him. Not many of these true, freedom loving Americans left.
Dad's company sized unit was clandestinely dropped off onto Okinawa in early 1945, a week before the invasion fleet was to arrive, with a do-or-die mission to destroy as many Japanese suicide boat bases as possible. The men of that unit, with no support, and on an enemy held island with no way off except to wait for the invasion forces, accomplished that mission at a great price.
A recipient of the Silver Star for his actions in performing that mission, he was one of fewer than a dozen who survived it, and spent the next year in an Army hospital recovering from wounds from Japanese hand grenades and machine gun fire.
Dad, at 92, was basically ready to go. He broke a hip two months ago, had no interest in the necessary rehabilitation, and had recently taken the step of divesting himself of all but a few of his cherished horses so he could insure their continuing good care, which were really what had kept him interested in life since Mom died in 2012.
He went peacefully in his sleep, did not succumb to some debilitating disease, and pretty much at a time of his choosing.
A photo of him on horseback last year at 91, preparing to ride over his beloved piece of Texas ... a fitting way to remember him. Not many of these true, freedom loving Americans left.
