Bridge to History Ambassador: Ethan

Ethan J., age 10

We have learned so much about America’s role on D-Day and throughout World War II. We saw and learned many things along the way! From the Churchill War Rooms in London to Pointe du Hoc in Normandy, this journey was a very well thought out experience.

ethan standing in “the shadow” of winston churchill at the churchill war rooms

Now that this journey is complete, I personally understand the importance of preserving and remembering this chapter of history. After visiting so many historical sites from London to Normandy, the sacrifices of over 407,000 U.S. servicemembers cannot be forgotten. We have a duty to ensure their stories survive for many generations to come. Going forward I want to share my experiences with you!

Following the path of the 1st Infantry Division with Willem Braam

Out of all the historical sites this trip offered, my favorite site was Utah Beach. Utah Beach was the most successful American beach on D-Day. Utah Beach was assaulted by the U.S. 4th Infantry Division in conjunction with the 82nd and 101st Airborne Divisions. I like Utah Beach because so many of the German fortifications are relatively intact. It is incredible to see how well the WiederstandNests at Utah Beach are remarkably preserved! This site looked exactly how a U.S. soldier would have saw it on D-Day.

the remains of WiederstandNests 62 are still open to climb in and explore

Another favorite of mine is the home of the granddaughter of General George S. Patton, the famed commander of the 3rd U.S. Army during World War II. I chose this experience as one of my favorites because I was given the privilege to hold one of General Patton’s fencing swords and sit in his favorite armchair. I felt for a moment like General Patton!

ethan stands on omaha beach in elements of a uniform that would have been worn by a soldier landing on D-Day

I also gained incredible friendships along the way with my newly discovered friends Dyche, Adam, and Winston. We met each other in London, and we all were able to really understand each other due to our shared passion of history and warfare. It further deepens my opinion that this trip has brought us together as friends; reliable to each other in times of need.

Winston, Adam, Dyche, and Ethan excited to head out on a tour of normandy in wwii jeeps and trucks

In conclusion, after this amazing journey, I understand better America’s identity, history, and what really should matter in every American’s heart. I also learned the importance of the American allies like the British and Canadians and the role they played on D-Day and throughout World War II. I gained everlasting relationships, which I will never forget.

adam in front of the grave of laurence madill, 116th infantry regiment, 29th division

Finally, I would like to sincerely thank the sponsors, without your generous support, this journey would not have been possible! Additionally, to all the parents and staff that supported our daily adventures into history, you made all the difference in the world! I hope that Bridge 2 History’s mission of creating strong ambassadors will succeed in the many years to come!

Ethan J., age 9


B2H

Bridge to History‘s inaugural Children’s World War II Boot Camp is complete! If you followed along on Instagram or Facebook and saw any of the photos and videos, you will have a glimpse of just how fantastic it was. These kids – my students - were enthusiastic and engaged and articulate and so much fun! I’m so proud of how hard they worked and what great energy they gave to everything they saw, and everyone they met.

If you have been encouraged or inspired by what you have seen, and if you would like to see this program continue, would you donate to Operation Meatball today? This is a volunteer run nonprofit organization. No one takes a salary. Everything goes to cover our expenses. Whether it’s $20, $200, or $2000, every penny will help us get the next program rolling!

Bridge to History Ambassador: Adam

My Trip to Normandy with Bridge to History 2022

Adam B., age 9

My name is Adam Boyd and I am 9 years old. I am a 2022 Ambassador with the Bridge to History program, and I have to say IT. IS. AWESOME!!!

First of all, I want to thank everyone with Operation Meatball. Everyone that I got to be with has been the best and I miss them all. I know there’s more people that help with Operation Meatball that I don’t know but who really helped me and the other kids go on the trip and I want to especially say thank you so very much.

Bridge to History has changed my life.

I only thought I knew a lot about World War II and the D-Day landings, but I really didn’t. I thought that standing on Omaha Beach would be the best part but it was only one of a whole lot of best parts. My Mom and everyone keep asking me what was my favorite part of the trip, but I don’t have one, I have at least 4 and those are the ones I want to write about.

Adam stands at the 29th Division Monument just off Omaha Beach

One thing I will always remember is getting off the boat in Normandy and meeting Willem and Zander and driving to Sword beach. I always thought Omaha beach would be my favorite beach, but it is Sword. We got out of the car and there was Zander with soft chocolate croissants. They were so good!

Adam, Dyche, and Winston on Sword Beach.

We ate them and looked at the monument of the flame with the flags around it and the names of Free French Commandos came with the British to free their own land and who died there on June 6, 1944. Willem talked to us about the Sword beach landing while we ate and the sun was coming up. I remember walking down the path to the beach and seeing the big grains of sand and I just took off running. It was so beautiful but all those years ago it was a battlefield. I think about the morning of June 6th a lot now. I think about the men who never left that beach alive. I learned so much right there in the first part of the first morning in France. I had only thought about the British landing there and the battle, but right then I learned what it may have been like to BE from there and to come back with British soldiers and be like, “This is my country and I’m taking it back!”

Adam and Dyche stand on Omaha Beach. They take turns trying on the uniform our boys wore ashore on D-Day.

Whenever I used to think about D-Day I always thought about Omaha Beach. I watched Saving Private Ryan and would imagine being on that beach and pretend to run from the water fighting the Germans. I got to do that! I got to put on a real World War II Haversack and helmet and life belt and try to run up the Atlantic wall with my best friend, Dyche! It was crazy!

But after that I got to go to the American cemetery in Normandy and it changed everything.

The part of Saving Private Ryan when all the soldiers are being killed became real people who had real parents and family. A lot of them were the same age as my sister. Liberty told us about people she knew who told her stories about their soldier buried there and we found their grave and put a wreath with it. I can’t describe all I felt that day. I just cried. All I could think about was that they died for me. They died for freedom everywhere. They were from my state. They had my name. I cry now thinking about it. About them.

Before this visit talking and learning and acting out D-Day and World War II was all about me and what I knew and the people in my family that was in the war and what that meant to me and my family. After being at the cemetery, it’s about them and who they were and who loved them and who they loved too. I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to learn about everyone I could. Now I think about what Jason, Ethan’s Dad said to us that day, “They died for you.” I’ll always remember that.

Next thing I want to talk about was the reenactment night. It was so cool! We ate dinner that night and Jason helped us put on camouflage face paint. We got dressed in warm, dark clothes and hats and gloves and left at 8:30. It was a full moon and the sky had clouds just like on the night of June 5th/6th 1944.

Adam prepared for the reenactment with a full face of camo “war paint.”

We got to go in a van that was like a C-47 and we landed in a field. When we got out we were laughing and loud but then Willem had us go silent. He told us we would have to find our way in the dark and to be quiet and on the lookout.

Adam and Dyche preparing for the night reenactment.

We started down the road and “BAM” there was gunfire! The Germans fired on us! We hit the ditch. There was a smell of gun powder and the feeling of nettles in my fingers and in my knees. When a German took my helmet off, I got really scared. I cried because I didn’t know what he was going to do. Really, I don’t even know why I cried I just did. It was so real. Before that night I had just imagined what it would be like to fight Germans in my own little trench and bunker … but they had the real thing!

A visit to the D-Day Experience Museum

I thought about how earlier that day when were at the D-Day Experience Museum and we learned about Bull Wolverton and how brave he and the men who jumped that night onto almost the same ground where I was and then faced the Germans. After being home, me and my Mom looked up more information on Bull Wolverton. We have read the prayer he prayed a lot.

The C-47 simulator experience was a highlight for everyone.

He said, “We ask only this, that if die we must, that we die as men would die, without complaining, without pleading and safe in the feeling that we have done our best for what we believed was right.” He died just a few hours after that prayer and I know he was braver than his prayer and braver than I could ever be.

Taking notes from the days… making sure nothing is forgotten.

The last part I want to talk about is my most favorite and that’s the Chelsea Pensioners. I didn’t know who they were until right before the trip and we looked them up. I still wasn’t real sure about going to the hospital because I worried it was like the nursing home where my Meme is at and that made me really sad but on our first night in London we met Dave and Bryon and they were awesome!

Adam, Ethan, and Dyche with the darling Pensioner, Bryan Rolfe

Faith sang for us and she was amazing, but then Dave got up and sang The Gambler and I knew he was cool. The next day we got to go to the Chelsea Royal Hospital and Dave met us. He showed us around and we met a lot of the other Pensioners too. We saw them do their ceremony and inspections and that was neat. Dave showed us the dining hall and took us for Sunday service in the chapel.

A private tour of the Royal Chelsea Hospital for the B2H student Ambassadors

We visited the cemetery and saw Margaret Thatcher’s grave. Dave told us about when he worked for her and how much she cared for the Pensioners. I can see why. They are real veterans for Britain’s army and they have served their country and deserve our thanks and respect like all our veterans do. I didn’t want to leave. Dave is my favorite person I got to meet on this trip. I have his card and am emailing him.

Adam with the Chelsea Pensioners

My Mom now follows the Chelsea Pensioners on Facebook and we read their newsletters. Dave’s picture was with a group that raised money in a race for the hospital! Before this trip when I thought of redcoats I thought of the Revolutionary war and the War of 1812 but now I think of Dave and the Chelsea Pensioners and their nine buttons and 3 pointed hats and I wear the pin Dave gave me.


Next week is Veteran’s Day and I can’t wait! I’m calling a World War II Veteran named Arnold Price who lives about 20 minutes from me in Sylva, NC. He was in the Battle of the Bulge and was a commander, but sadly he was the only survivor from that awful battle.

I am now trying to study and learn more about battles on the western front and the fall of Germans to the Allied Forces. On Veteran’s Day, I am going to my brother’s school, Haywood Christian Academy and will volunteer to serve lunch to veterans. I’m going to give out more of the American flag pins that I took to Normandy. I have special gifts from Normandy of sand from all the beaches for my special Vietnam Veteran, Jerry McClure too.

My Mom is helping me write something for my online school, the North Carolina Cyber Academy for our school newsletter about the trip. I am also sending the school sand from the beaches for them to keep and display. My Mom is working with me to go through all our pictures and videos and we are making a PowerPoint presentation to help me when I talk to groups about Bridge to History and D-Day too.

We are going back and studying a lot of the stuff Willem, Liberty and all the guides taught us and putting it in writing so I can always, always remember every minute of the greatest adventure of my life. Thank you so much for picking me and letting me go on this trip. I don’t know what I will grow up to do or where I will be but I know that this history will go with me and I will always study and share it.

Adam Boyd, age 9. North Carolina


B2H

Bridge to History‘s inaugural Children’s World War II Boot Camp is complete! If you followed along on Instagram or Facebook and saw any of the photos and videos, you will have a glimpse of just how fantastic it was. These kids – my students - were enthusiastic and engaged and articulate and so much fun! I’m so proud of how hard they worked and what great energy they gave to everything they saw, and everyone they met.

If you have been encouraged or inspired by what you have seen, and if you would like to see this program continue, would you donate to Operation Meatball today? This is a volunteer run nonprofit organization. No one takes a salary. Everything goes to cover our expenses. Whether it’s $20, $200, or $2000, every penny will help us get the next program rolling!

The Children Take Normandy: Bridge to History Launches

When I was in the single digits, my dad took my siblings and me to Bunker Hill in Boston, Massachusetts. He lined us up and told us to, “Hold until you see the whites of their eyes,” then Charge! There were no Redcoats in front of us. Nothing but a grassy hill and an old monument, but, when we charged, we gave it all our 6, 7, and 8 year old hearts could give. We saw the Redcoats and the fate of the American Revolution rested on US at that moment. I never forgot it.

A little over a week ago, the inaugural Bridge to History Children’s Program wrapped up in Normandy, France. We spent 9 days adventuring through the Churchill War Rooms of London, England, retaking the beachhead at Bloody Omaha, laying wreaths to our fallen Allies at their last resting place, recalling the bravery of the Bedford Boys, learning about French culture through the local school children, and driving the backroads of Normandy in WWII Jeeps and trucks.

Without a doubt, this was a life-changing trip. Not just for the students, but for the parents and for me.

To experience Normandy and D-Day through the eyes of a 9 year old is something else. Untainted by the madness of world politics, there is a purity to their perspective.

“Grown-ups like numbers. When you tell them about a new friend, they never ask questions about what really matters. They never ask: “What does his voice sound like? What games does he like best…” They ask: “How old is he? How many brothers does he have?… How much money does his father make?” Only then do they think they know him. If you tell grown-ups, “I saw a beautiful red brick house, with geraniums at the windows and doves on the roof,” they won’t be able to imagine such a house. You have to tell them, “I saw a house worth a hundred thousand francs.” Then they exclaim, “What a pretty house!”

The Little Prince by Antoine De Sainte-Exupery

The tactile nature of climbing in old German bunkers, through trenches, or the gun emplacements of Longues-sur-Mer, brought to life what the children had been reading about their whole lives.

They visualized what adults can’t see. They played war, and they were fighting the Germans again. But when taps came over the speakers at Colleville American Cemetery and the flag was lowered, they held a salute. No one told them to. They just knew.

Over the next few weeks, I will be recapping Bridge to History and sharing writings from the children - my student ambassadors to history.

They came well prepared, ready to engage, and through the fire hydrant of learning they received, they left with new goals and dreams of how to preserve history.

Our legacy starts with the children. They are the future. After the 9 days I spent overseas with my students, watching them embrace history so fully, I feel re-inspired. To hear 9 year-old Dyche tell me he wanted to bring his children to Normandy, and 12 year old Charlotte declare she never wanted to wash her hands again after holding an original photo of the Bedford Boys on Omaha Beach… it makes me smile. They get it.


B2H

Bridge to History‘s inaugural Children’s World War II Boot Camp is complete! If you followed along on Instagram or Facebook and saw any of the photos and videos, you will have a glimpse of just how fantastic it was. These kids – my students - were enthusiastic and engaged and articulate and so much fun! I’m so proud of how hard they worked and what great energy they gave to everything they saw, and everyone they met.

If you have been encouraged or inspired by what you have seen, and if you would like to see this program continue, would you donate to Operation Meatball today? This is a volunteer run nonprofit organization. No one takes a salary. Everything goes to cover our expenses. Whether it’s $20, $200, or $2000, every penny will help us get the next program rolling!

The Marble Orchard

“Speak that name, read the accomplishments of that member, lay that wreath, and say thank you. And it will change your heart like nothing else that you have ever done.”

Judy Carlile

This last Saturday morning, I drove over to Fort Sam Houston Cemetery. A few days before, I had been reminded that Wreaths Across America was happening on the weekend. For years I’ve seen photos and heard from my friends what a magical experience this is, and I wanted to be a part of it. 

Each year, the Saturday or two before Christmas is allocated as Wreaths Across America Day. Thousands and thousands of Americans gather in the local and National Military Cemeteries across the United States to lay wreaths on the graves of our servicemen. Throughout the year, donations are raised and wreaths are sponsored to give each marble epitaph a token of our gratitude.

At Fort Sam alone, there are roughly 175,000 graves, this includes family members of deceased servicemen. This year, the local San Antonio chapter of WAA laid over 62,000 wreaths, an absolutely tremendous effort. 

When I arrived, it had already been pouring rain for hours. The highways were flooded at points, and I wasn’t sure what the turn out would be. Rain is a good excuse to stay home, but I underestimated the pluck of my fellow Texans. The cemetery was crowded. Packed to the gills. Men, women, children, babies, grandparents, military, civilians, every walk of life.

Before the crowds were released, a brief ceremony took place at the pavilion. Craig Russell of Seguin shared the real meaning behind why we were gathered that day.

“I am not a Chaplain, but I am a man of deep abiding Faith. And in Deuteronomy 32:7 it says, “Remember the days of old; consider the generations long past. Ask your father and he will show you, your elders, and they will tell you.’… It is built into the fabric of humanity that we reflect God’s image when we remember. We bear the torch of God’s love as those to remember. We have come here today to Remember.

We are here to remember the sacrifices of those… that have gone before us. To remember that Freedom is not Free. And to inspire the next generation to be those that also remember. It is in remembering that we preserve the fragile democracy that we are a part of. It is in remembering that connects us to our past. It is in remembering that keeps the flame of Freedom alive in the present.”


As the rains beat a tattoo on our heads, the crowds moved to the massive trucks holding boxes and boxes of wreaths. Mutual misery causes conversation. As the long lines crawled forward, we discussed the obvious topic: the rain, and I recommended channeling the Marine Corps at Chosin.

The local Boy Scouts wrestled the rain and wind in their light ponchos, and I watched many an umbrella take flight. Every form of carrying device had been employed to transfer the wreaths from the trucks to the grave: walking canes, umbrellas, baby strollers, small wagons, long arms, even broom sticks. I love a bit of American ingenuity.

One of the mac trucks delivering the wreaths

“Do you think there'll be any wreaths left when we get to the truck?” was the question of the hour.

“Don’t worry! With 62,000 wreaths, I think there’s plenty to go around.”

My new friends didn’t enjoy the rain shower as much as I did. “Let’s just make one trip and call it a day,” they said.

I couldn’t resist, “Are you sure y’all aren’t Air Force??”

Immediately a couple in line ahead of us turned and declared, “Hey! The Air Force goes outside sometimes!”


Before going out, the crowd had been encouraged to, “Speak that name, read the accomplishments of that member, lay that wreath, and say thank you.”

Later I watched two little girls take this to heart. One laying a wreath on the grave, her sister said a quiet prayer. “Dear Soldier —- thank you for your service to our country. Thank you for protecting my family. We will always remember you. Amen.”

An older man walked down the line of graves with an arm of wreaths. Before laying a wreath, he recited the name, rank, and military branch. A salute. A “Thank you for your service,” and he moved on to the next one.

A father and his two little boys made their way up and down the rows. The three year old danced around the graves looking at the wreaths, trying to make out the letters inscribed on the stone. The father read the names aloud to his older son. When he came across a USMC he stopped and made note of it.

“Here’s a Marine, son,” he said. 

“Are you a Marine?” I called out from several graves down.

“Yes,” he says. “Oorah.”

“Semper Fi!” I respond.

I ask him to take a photo for me. “Do you know the person?” He asked.

No I don’t.

“My son is somewhere in this cemetery,” he tells me.


On any day, these sights would be touching, but in the pouring rain, there was an intangible beauty. No rush. No hurry. No fight against the inclement climate. Just time standing still, as each grave received it’s honor and remembrance. 

While the grave merely holds the frail and empty remains of our loved ones, their epitaphs etched in marble above represent a legacy.

Lucian Adams

SSGT, US Army World War Two. 

October 25, 1922 - March 31, 2003

Purple Heart

Bronze Star 

Medal of Honor

A full life summed up in a couple of words. The last of their accomplishments. How they are to be remembered.


Sometimes I jest that my fondest memories over the years have taken place in old battlefields or cemeteries while all heaven broke loose and threatened a second flood. But it’s also kind of true.

 “Those of you that are gathered here today, you came here to take care of each other; to be a part of a legacy; and to remember.” -Craig Russell

I left Fort Sam inspired. And invigorated. I watched my community come together and perform a simple but massive task in less than desirable conditions.  And it was done united, with a smile. 

This is America. This is our heart. 

I strongly encourage you to participate in Wreaths Across America next year. As the inestimable Judy Carlile said, “It will change your heart like nothing else that you have ever done.” 


Operation Meatball

Honoring Veterans & Connecting Them With the Youth of Today

80 Years Since Pearl Harbor

I have so many reflections on a day like today. It’s a Tuesday, but no ordinary Tuesday. 

80 years ago today the world changed forever. We all know the story of how early in the morning of December 7, 1941, America was brutally attacked by the Imperial Japanese Navy Air Service in a less than honorable sneak strike. 

The consequences of this action resulted in the deaths of 2,403 American servicemen and 68 civilians, sparking America’s entry into the Second World War.

I don’t want to retell a history that has already been told many times, and by far more adequate writers. Instead, here are a few random thought threads I’ve had today.

I remember the first year my family and I went to Pearl Harbor. I had just turned 15. Still on a high from Normandy and the D-Day celebrations that summer, I had been a strong advocate for getting to Hawaii for the 70th. We all considered it to be the last big finale to remember this historic moment in American history. Little did I underestimate the tenacity of the Pearl Harbor Survivors to continue making the long pilgrimage each year. 

If Normandy was my adult baptism into the world of WWII, Pearl Harbor left the final touches. I came home from that trip inspired and amazed. 

In the days leading up to the 7th, our hotel was literally crawling with veterans. Looking back it’s hard to believe. If my memory recalls, there were over 100 Pearl Harbor Survivors in Hawaii for the 70th anniversary, not to mention the countless other veterans of World War Two that had shown up to pay tribute.

Today I read that somewhere between 20-30 Survivors were present for the 80th, and just about 100 total still alive. If you consider that it’s been 80 years - it’s still impressive.

In 2011, one veteran I met in the lobby of our hotel told a crazy story about a bomb that hit his ship. It landed not too far from his position, and to the shock and surprise of his fellow shipmates, the bomb didn’t explode. It was a dud. Putting caution to the wind, they rushed over to examine it. Indelibly engraved on top were the words USN 1915. Surplus we had sold the Japanese and they were now returning - with interest.

Another veteran left an indelible mark on my heart as he recalled listening in horror to the pounding on the walls of the USS Arizona by the sailors trapped below. For days. There would be 1,177 casualties from that ship. Homes that would never be the same,  and a memory that would never leave the ears of the witnesses to the sinking.

But my memories with the Pearl Harbor guys aren't all serious… 

A couple of years ago, I was privileged to return to Pearl Harbor with The Best Defense Foundation and their veterans. In the group were two vets new to me, Donald Long and Stu Hedley. They were a duo if ever I’ve met one. Don was tall, elegant, charming, and had a way with words that would capture anyone’s heart. Stu was known around the world for his empathy, quick wit and iconic greeting, “Alooooha.” Together, they were ready for vaudeville. 

I remember the afternoon we arrived at our hotel in Hawaii, Don looking up at the high ceilings and elaborate Christmas decorations remarked, “Stu, I think they should place a swing up there [pointing with his cane], and you should sit on it and swing back and forth across the lobby singing ‘Remember Pearl Harbor.”’

The visual image was just outrageous. Stu got a kick out of it. Thankfully, this idea never came to fruition.

Our morning elevator rides were something else. In the corner window above the floor numbers, a little hula girl would dance every time someone stepped into the elevator. The first ride up, Don remarked that the girl was shaking her hula skirt at Stu. Stu, a terribly good sport, went along with it. This routine continued every time we got on the elevator. My friend Cindy and I were in stitches watching these two (almost 100-year-olds) crack jokes about Stu’s romance with the hula dancer in the window like they were back in high school.

At the end of the trip, Don presented Stu with a hat that had a hula girl neatly embroidered on it, the perfect ending to a perfect trip.

The adventures of Stu and Don would make a great little book. They both died within a few weeks of each other. I loved my conversations with Don over text, and I still have a precious voicemail from Stu.

Don wasn’t very good at accepting compliments. When I told him goodbye in person the last time, I hugged him tightly and said how much I would miss our chats and intellectual discourses. “Now look, Liberty,” he said in his elegant tone of voice, “I know you tell that to all the boys.” But his eyes twinkled. And if he knew how much he was truly missed, I know he would be flattered. 

Thank you Don and Stu for the laughs and love.

And to my Pearl Harbor Survivors: We will always remember you. 

Photo Recap from Week of Iwo Jima

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Over the last 15 years, the Iwo Jima reunions have been a huge part of my life. And honestly, it's almost hard to remember a time "pre-Iwo."

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One of the questions I often get asked at these reunions is, "What is your connection? Was your grandpa a Marine at Iwo? Why are you here??"

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The truth is that while I have no blood connection to this epic battle or even the Marine Corps, growing up around these stalwart fellows I have somehow amassed quite a family of adopted uncles and cousins and grandpas.

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They set rules like any family. Several years ago, Jubilee, Faith, and I were cornered by a couple of Iwo survivors and told: On no circumstances we were allowed to bring our boyfriends to future reunions *without* their full approval of the young lads... "and he has to call us first, so here's my number." They were dead serious.

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But while bf approval might be tough to get... their love has been unconditional; always there to check in on us girls and make sure "things are okay."

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Maybe it sounds corny, maybe it sounds like an, "Ah that's cute.." It is cute, but it's also the truth.

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Sometimes we only get together once a year, but for that one week this adopted family of mine proves once again why the family crest the motto is: Semper Fidelis / Always Faithful.

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They Showed Up: The 75th Anniversary Iwo Jima Reunion

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It was a whirlwind week in D.C. for the 75th Anniversary Iwo Jima Survivors Reunion, and even though it was a few weeks ago now, I can still hardly believe it's over.

The reunion had a record number of Iwo Jima veterans: with the final count being over 55.

The reunion had a record number of Iwo Jima veterans: with the final count being over 55.

It was a different type of reunion for me this year. Many of the friends whom I had become close with over the years passed away in the last 15 months. It was a weird feeling not having them present, and there were several moments when I half expected one of them to just come walking through or be wheeled in, laughing and declaring the attention of the room in a bellowing Marine Corps voice.

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But on the other hand, meeting so many new veterans who were making their VERY FIRST REUNION absolutely blew me away (and is literally bringing chills to my arms as I write). At one point, I was standing in the lobby of the hotel, and EVERYWHERE Iwo Jima hats were walking around - with some of the wearers looking too young to have even served in World War 2.

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But they had indeed.

Fighting in one of the most iconic battles in American history, 75 years later they showed up.

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A little older, a little hard of hearing, a little more wobbly on the knees, but with the same enthusiasm and Esprit de Corps; ready to share memories with one another, and remember the comrades they had loved dearly and left on that island of Volcanic Ash.

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To the veterans of Iwo Jima: Thank you for showing up. You showed up in 1945 when it mattered most, and you showed up in 2020 because - 75 years later - it still matters.


Iwo Jima Veteran Highlight

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Norman L. Baker

Iwo Jima Survivor

Submitted by Suzanne B. Baker

Beloved husband, father, friend, war hero, scientist, publisher and historian. Norman courageously volunteer to defend our country in World War II and bravely fought in the Battle of Iwo Jima, later on the front lines of the Korean War. Professionally, Norman was an accomplished aerospace engineer who worked on the Bomarc Missile Program and the Space Shuttle Program. Sought-after historian and guest lecturer, Norman author the number of books on the American Colonial Period. 

Honoring: Sgt. Paul Allen Berryman

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Submitted by Sgt. Berryman’s sister, Martha Ann Berryman

Sgt. Paul Allen Berryman // 5th Division 28th, Iwo Jima. 5th generation Texan.

Sgt. Paul Allen Berryman // 5th Division 28th, Iwo Jima. 5th generation Texan.

My much older brother Sgt. Paul Allen Berryman, 5th Marine Division, 28th Marine Regiment died March 1st, an anti-aircraft gunner on Iwo. 

How I wish our father could have seen such images as those which are being found nowadays, cemetery footage, others, and Meatball--Papa kept every scrap & photo & their years of daily letters, treasuring the trunks & boxes.

Our father brought Paul's remains back to be buried in Texas; it took about. 3 years. Papa grieved all his life for Paul--they had such plans together "after the war"--daily letters of WW2 with details--intending a large orchard, their hardware store, "Berryman & Son." A sweetheart, Nell, to become wife, her letters adding to plans, to "run the store."  

Our father shared many sweet memories with me about Paul's childhood, their funny adventures, intense interests, so I grew up almost "knowing" Paul, and grateful to take part in what was left of their dreams, Papa & me together, decades of honoring Paul, planting & tending their pecan orchard. 

-Martha Ann Berryman


Paul & our father's last visit in late January 1945, about a week before Paul shipped out to Iwo Jima. They toured San Diego, enjoying the Zoo, other places together & with Paul's friends in his unit.

Paul & our father's last visit in late January 1945, about a week before Paul shipped out to Iwo Jima. They toured San Diego, enjoying the Zoo, other places together & with Paul's friends in his unit.

Paul wrote enthusiastic letters about his stay in Wellington, New Zealand, hoping he & our father could visit again..."after..."

Paul wrote enthusiastic letters about his stay in Wellington, New Zealand, hoping he & our father could visit again..."after..."

The much prized Shellback certificate.

The much prized Shellback certificate.

Paul (??) in his gunnery--or similar--per War letter, Paul died from an enemy grenade into his gunnery foxhole.

Paul (??) in his gunnery--or similar--per War letter, Paul died from an enemy grenade into his gunnery foxhole.

Our father, photograph on March 1945 day of receiving War Dept. telegram, an alter for Paul.

Our father, photograph on March 1945 day of receiving War Dept. telegram, an alter for Paul.

Our father's shadow cast over Paul's burial flowers-- a symbolic gesture of one last afternoon together. I saw Papa was weeping as he took the photograph.

Our father's shadow cast over Paul's burial flowers-- a symbolic gesture of one last afternoon together. I saw Papa was weeping as he took the photograph.

Paul's rose granite gravestone, me sitting on curbing c. 1948.

Paul's rose granite gravestone, me sitting on curbing c. 1948.

Week of Iwo Jima 75: Cecil Burlingame USMC

Sent in by his daughter, Marie Hampton


This is my Dad.  He turned 21 on the day he enlisted. He said the other guys called him "Grandpa". I wasn't born until he was 54 but he had one hell of a life before my brother and I came along. 

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“He was at Guadalcanal and taken off that island by JFK. He told us he was up to his knees in the ocean before the boats came along. 

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He received 2 Purple Hearts.  Never did get the bullet out of his calf.  He was also at IWO JIMA.  (Our personalized license plate said that for years).

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He loved his reunions and all of his buddies. He was the best.  I miss him every day and he was gone way too soon. Semper Fi


If you have a family member who served on Iwo Jima, we would love for you to send in a photograph and short paragraph telling their service story. You can send it to:

OMVeteranStories@gmail.com

We will be sharing stories and photographs highlighting our Iwo Jima Veterans over the anniversary month an would LOVE to include you family’s hero.

Week of Iwo Jima 75: Museum of the Marine Corps

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This morning I made a quick trip down Quantico to the Marine Corps Museum. They had some special displays and programs out for the anniversary of Iwo Jima, including both flags that were raised on Mt. Suribachi, February 23, 1945 (75 years ago tomorrow).

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I am going to be back here next week with my vets… But I couldn’t resist an opportunity to visit the museum.

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If you are in the Northern Virginia area, I highly recommend you visit the museum this week if you’re able.

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It’s well worth your time (admission is free) and there’s so much to see, especially with the big anniversary.

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19 on the 18th

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Bill Madden

USMC

#WeekofIwoJima75 // Bill Madden (sweetness & gentleness personified) turned 19 on February 18, 1945.

The next day, February 19, his world changed forever.

“Liberty,” he said when I turned 19, “I had my 19th birthday sitting on a ship off the coast of Iwo Jima, not knowing if I would ever hit the age of 20."

Bill was severely wounded. But he lived to see his 20th birthday. And his 30th. And he continued to celebrate until his 90th year.

Bill Madden is one of the reasons I will always remember February 19 and Iwo Jima.


If you have a family member who served on Iwo Jima, we would love for you to send in a photograph and short paragraph telling their service story. You can send it to:

OMVeteranStories@gmail.com

We will be sharing stories and photographs highlighting our Iwo Jima Veterans over the anniversary month an would LOVE to include you family’s hero.