Whe
n Memorial Day rolls around each year, I can't help thinking about my dad's experience as a World War II POW at Stalagluft III. (Yes, that was the site of the famous "Great Escape" and it occurred while he was there, but he didn't participate in it directly.) We didn't talk much about those two years, but he never let us forget that five crew members on his B-17 bomber didn't live to become POWs. In that sense, he felt he was one of the "lucky" ones.
I embarked on a mission, a few years ago, to assemble into albums the correspondence my grandmother saved from those days after her 22-year old son was shot down about 40 miles south-east of Paris. It was a fascinating lesson in history and heroism on the home-front in both America and in France.
The cigar-box full of yellowed and brittle paper included several hand-written letters from mothers of those missing crew members, as well as my dad's letters and postcards to his mother after he was captured by the Germans. As a mother myself, I could barely read those letters through my tears as I realized that none of these other moms had any idea of their sons' fate for months after the plane went down. As weeks and months passed, you could feel their fear, pain and desperation growing with each new letter. I noted they received no official word of their sons fate for nearly e
ight months...
"Just a few lines to tell you we got a telegram Sunday at ten to six that my boy S/Sgt. Ray Scwabenbauer was killed Sept. 6 over France. Mr. Morrison of Altoona got a telegram Sunday at 2 o'clock saying his son was killed on Sept. 6. So far we have not heard about the Lawrence boy or the Lincoln boy... No one will ever know how broken-hearted I am over my boy's death..." (May 1, 1944)
As I went through these letters, it did seem that my grandmother was indeed a "lucky" mom because she at least knew that her son was alive - even though the circumstances were not ideal.
Additionally, the box contained letters from a woman in France, the matriarch of a family who initially rescued and hid my dad from the Germans after his plane was shot down. Unfortunately, he was injured and could not escape eventual capture by the enemy, but the family who helped him was very active in the French underground. The woman's letters speak of amazing courage on the part of French villagers who risked their own lives to help Americans shot down over France.
In fact, her 8-year old son was able to travel with one American soldier at a time, pretending to be the son (or brother, depending on the age of the American) of a deaf and mute farmer going to purchase supplies. When Germans stopped them, the boy (often riding on the shoulders of the American) would explain that his papa couldn't hear or speak. The boy would accompany an American from Paris to England by hitch-hiking or walking the entire way and then travel back to France alone to begin the dangerous journey again with another American - a scared young man hidden in the attic of a villager's home to await safe transport. One of those he helped in this way was a member of my dad's flight crew. Another member of the crew was picked up by a nearby motorist and driven straight to England.
When my grandmother learned about the bravery of this family and their neighbors, she tasked her older son - another member of the Army Air Corp - with helping to deliver supplies to the French Underground for the remainder of the war - many of these items were sent to Europe by her for this purpose at a time when rationing was in place for Americans. She had to rely on the generosity of her own friends and family to give up their limited supply of staples to help the French Resistance.
The two women became great friends, united in their common desire to help the American servicemen avoid capture and imprisonment or firing squad, and they worked together again after the war to do something quite incredible:
They each convinced their own government to find the remains of the five members of my dad's crew who didn't survive and to move them to the French village where the plane had gone down. In order to accomplish this, my grandmother had to obtain permission from the boys' survivors and the French woman had to persuade local people to donate grave sites and markers. With these tasks accomplished, they pressed both governments to co-operate, and the burial of these American boys in their permanent place of rest at Champigny sur Yonne took place in 1948 on the 5th anniversary of their deaths.
Two of my children and I attended the memorial ceremonies held there on the 50th anniversary, in 1993. We discovered that September 6 is a local holiday when schools and businesses are closed, a delegation of American military officers stationed in Europe joins the locals, and the entire village celebrates their own very personal Memorial Day to honor the sacrifice of these five young men and all the other Americans who gave their lives to liberate France from Hitler.
The pilot of that plane attended with his wife, as well as my mother and father, and both couples laid wreathes at a monument in the church yard honoring the French Resistance, at the grave sites of the five crew members, and at a sculpture carved into the side of the hill where the plane hit the ground (photo on the right). My daughter sang the National Anthem at the close of the Mass that preceded the all-day event, and villagers traveled in a caravan with the dignitaries to each of these locations, ending in a courtyard at the Town Hall where the Mayor and others spoke.
The speeches were in French, so we listened politely without understanding, and I noticed that the man standing next to me held tightly in his hand a very old photograph of a young man. He tried to ask me a question, also speaking in French, so I took him to meet the family who had helped my dad. We watched as they spoke in French, embraced in tears and began laughing.
They excitedly explained to me that this man had come every year to the ceremonies, hoping to see a face in the crowd that resembled the man in this photo - an American he had hidden from the Germans five decades earlier. He never knew if the American had made it to safety until this day, when he learned from our French friends that the little boy described earlier in this story (now a man in his seventies) had, in fact, traveled with that young American to England and freedom.
While we honor our nation's fallen heroes on Memorial Day, think of their families and the many unsung heroes like my grandmother and these members of the French underground. Think of the Americans whose final resting place may be a little village in a far away country. Say a little word of prayer and thanks for them, too.
I'm sure that many of you have stories in your family that come to mind during this Memorial Day weekend. If you write a post on the topic, please put the link in your comment on this thread. In the coming weeks, I'll try to assemble the posts into a collection and publish them all in one place.
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God bless all of our fallen soldiers and their families who suffered so much for our freedom. Thank you for a first hand story about your family as my brother served in Nam and I still have the letters he sent to me.
Margaret, I think this is the link to my post:
http://activerain.com/blogsview/1670999/thank-you-for-your-service-uncle-ed-
If not, my blog is http://www.simpleeconomics.typepad.com
Thanks!
What a great story...it brought tears to my eyes. You are right, it should have gotten more notice!
Margaret, Phenomenal story! Glad you linked it in your recent post or I'd have never seen it!
I'm so excited that 2 more people found this. Thank you for clicking through! I know it's too long, but I didn't see how it could be divided into a series. Thank you for reading this and for your comments. Maybe next Memorial Day one of you can re-blog it. Hint, hint. LOL.
Margaret, this is beautiful! I'm crying as I read it. The story of the little boy was especially moving.
Pat, can you imagine that? I have an 8-year old grandson, and I wouldn't let him walk alone to the end of my street in a very safe neighborhood. They actually let their son go on foot in wartime from France to England and back - repeatedly. Waaaaaay beyond my comprehension!
Margaret, To me, the length of the blog is never important. You start, you go, you finish. The story you told is compelling, THAT is the important thing! Well worth my time or anyone else's!
And hint taken. The link is loaded in a calendar appointment for May 30, 2011.
As ex-Navy, totally understand the sacrifice that you wrote of!
Liz and Bill. Sometimes the length can be a deterrent, but you're right... good reading is more important. There are so many aspects to this story, I think the message of the mothers is the story I wanted to tell, but it got lost. I'll have to try again another time and maybe quote from some of the "other" mother letters. Who knows... maybe another descendant will be discovered through naming people in the post.
Oh Margaret-What a beautiful, heartfelt story. It brought tears to my eyes, as it did the others above. I can only imagine what you must have felt when going through that cigar box SO full of history. What an amazing family you have. Thank you so much for sharing this. It really touched me. Your Grandmother had a wonderful attitude and was so grateful, when many would have fallen apart.
Now, I"m off to read the post that linked to this one.
Margaret, guess I'm following Coop :)
This is a very powerful story of courage and sacrifice with death defying odds. That little boy must have been wise and mature beyond his years to have been able to travel like that. It is really beyond my comprehension also, to think of letting my son at that age do something like that.
Beautiful post. My father served in the Army Air Corp in India and made it back home without mishap. But so many others didn't ...
Wonderful!!! Like others, this brought tears to my eyes, and made me proud to be human... LOL!
WWII stories are some of the most incredible you'll ever read, particularly those of Resistance members during the German occupation of France. What a powerful personal story. History is much more than dates and places of battles....
Elizabeth - All these letters were UNDER a bunch of recipes on index cards. I loved my grandmother's cooking, so I had saved the box for the recipes. Imagine my surprise, when I discovered all those letters!
Frank & Sharon - I guess to appreciate the family's commitment to the Americans liberating France, I have to consider their escape from Paris to their summer home near this village, and the fact that the Germans basically kidnapped the father to print their progaganda at his printing company. So much story here...
Judy - I think it's easy to take it for granted when one comes back physically intact from war - My dad never let us forget that he was very lucky to live through the experience, albeit in a German prison camp.
Victoria - Me too, every time I think about it. If you stop and think about it, the Americans efforts to liberate France from Hitler was kinda like American servicemen today trying to liberate Iraq and Afghanistan from the extremists.
Penny - You are so right. When you hear stories like this, it really brings history to life and puts today's political climate into perspective.
Thank you for sharing this. My father served in WWII as a pilot in India. Thankfully he had nothing as eventful as this happen. Stories like this help us to reflect upon our freedoms and the men and women who have served to provide them. Thanks again for sharing.
Ken, I'm so glad that your father didn't have anything like this happen. Yet, as I mentioned, my dad felt very fortunate because he did live through it and made it home. So many did not. You're welcome for sharing.
I am so glad I found this! One of my Uncles was a POW in WWII -- and you have inspired me to do some more research into where, what, how. We know the why. Thank you for such a beautifully written snapshot of your family history!
Human Interest stories are the best news. Enjoyed all of the story and the outcome with the gentleman contacting you because of it. This is what makes you proud of man kind.
Good morning Margaret,
What a wonderfully written story. I'm so glad BIZ re-blogged so I didn't miss it! This truly brought tears to my eyes and made me realize how many unsung heroes there are celebrating Memorial Day all over the world!
Thanks to B'liz for the reblog, I am honored to read the story of your family. I've read other stories about the mothers who communicated for months trying to get a scrap of information about the fate of their children. How terrible not to know.
I read a lot of history, but I am always most interested in the individual and personal stories. I'll check back to see other stories that might be linked back here.
Dorrie - Thanks for clicking back to this post to comment. I suspect there are many people in today's conflicts who are helping the Americans, just as the French did in the earlier war. As a result, our nation is able to help them - just as we helped to liberate France from the Germans. It makes me think back even farther to the days when the French helped our nation during the Revolutionary War when we sought freedom from Britain. Freedom is just never free, is it?
Leslie - History means so much more when it's brought to life through personal stories, doesn't it? I wrote a follow-up to this post today, telling about the two amazing contacts that resulted from this post since I first published it last year. Maybe we, the descendents of those involved in this little slice of history, can help make WW II history come to life for future generations.
Margararet, thank you so much for sharing this wonderful Memorial day post that is so close to your heart and so touching & moving...what wonderful connections came out of this war history!
Ginny - You're welcome. 'Glad you enjoyed reading it. I'm still amazed any time I think about the unspoken roles of so many self-sacrificing people. I'm sure there are plenty in this generation, as well.