I've heard many stories from WWII vets and your father's is one of the best. And he was one of the lucky ones. Storming those beaches you mentioned was mostly a losing bet....especially for the first wave. The debt we owe those guys can never be repaid.I know I have mentioned this before.. but my Dad signed up for the Marines at 16 years old before Pearl Harbor, as we were ramping up for war (in Europe, I assume). He told some stories about guys and drinking a few celebrities.. Eddie Albert (Green Acres guy who saved many of his fellow Marines on Tarawa)... a household name celeb that he called a cowardly officer who he got busted in rank for punching out (cannot verify who but you'd be surprised)... Anne Miller who he got to Jitterbug with.. and someone who opened his house in California to Marines.. I forget who.. maybe Edward Arnold? .. Drinking with MOH winner Johnny Basilone... those were the only stories we'd get and.. being kids.. were always moving on to the next thing rather quickly.
He'd have a list of 5 beach landings he'd mention.. like a resume of companies you worked at. It is so long ago I forget the order... but among them were Guam, Bougainville, Tarawa, Saipan, Tinian... I think that's it.. but he was given some "rest" on Saipan where his duty became driving supplies from beach head port to the airstrip and during one of these trips a "Jap" jumped out into the road and threw a grenade and sent him and his truck and supplies of aircraft tires over the ledge here he laid half-blown up until the next truck found him.
That's the how he got injured and had a metal plate in his head and leg story. Then when a TV show or movie showed war souvenirs his story as to why he had none to speak of was mentioned... while recovering at the beachhead base and waiting for a hospital ship troop transport to take him home.. his stuff got loaded on the ship but he was in such bad shape they kept him immobile and would wait for the next one (they expected he'd die). That ship that he was supposed to be on.. got sunk.
When we was very old and battling parkinsons, an old war movie came on the TV. For years my mom would insist we change the channel is my dad was around. He had night terrors occasionally of which we kids were largely unaware... the scene was of a "dirty jap" playing dead on the beach and then getting up and shooting some Marines in the back. So I jokingly asked him if that ever happened to him and he answered:
"Well, sometimes you had to play dead. They'd walk over you. There was a lot of back and forth."
Chilling.
The greatest generation, indeed. From the Great Depression to securing the future for American Freedom and Democracy... if we can keep it.
My father just got shot in the leg during the Battle Of The Bulge and got a Purple Heart. And never talked about the war. His brother was in that outfit in A Bridge Too Far that parachuted into the midst of a panzer outfit, was surrounded, captured, and spent the rest of the war in a p-o-w camp. Uncle Harry was always out there parading on Veterans' Day.
The trick to getting some of the WWII vets to talk was to hang at the VFW, befriend them, and buy them shots.
BTW, that trick also worked for a couple of guys I knew who were in Desert Storm. It also helps if you're a likeable guy like me.