Although the Memorial Day weekend has come and gone and people are back at work, it is one of those holidays that should be recognized every day. I spent the holiday with my parents and as I was driving home on Sunday afternoon, I couldn’t help but notice all of the American flags flying at cemeteries and homes. Some of them made quite an impressive display. I am one of those people that get chills whenever I say the Pledge of Allegiance or hear the National Anthem, and quite often a tear may even slip down my cheek.

This week I thought you might enjoy a couple of stories from Grandpa Sandfort’s World War I days and Dad’s World War II days. Enjoy might not be the right word as no aspect of war is enjoyable, but nonetheless, that’s the way it was.

Grandpa Sandfort was inducted into the army on Oct. 3, 1917. His company was sent overseas as replacements for battle casualties of World War I. They arrived in Liverpool, England and then traveled across the English Channel to Le Havre, France. It was here that his company was supplied with full battle gear before they headed to the front. The battle gear consisted of bedding, shelter half, gas mask, helmet, gun, bayonet, hand grenades, ammunition, and an extra pair of hobnail shoes. As Grandpa was picking up his gear, he discovered the army had forgotten to issue him his entrenching shovel. Sure enough, the shelling was heavy, and an order was given to “dig in.” Fortunately, he looked around and found a discarded German tool that could be used. This was the only foxhole he ever dug.

Dad was inducted into active service in the Army of the United States on March 19, 1945, as Private Robert G. Sandfort. At the conclusion of his basic training, Dad was granted a two-week leave. He went home and married Mom on Aug. 4, 1945. Less than two weeks later, he was on his way to Hawaii where he served as a Military Policeman, moved up through the ranks, and was later promoted to Staff Sergeant. As he writes in his memoirs, one of his worst responsibilities was escorting bodies, sometimes as many as 500 or 600 at a time, from the docks to the cemetery at Schofield Barracks for burial.

… Because of the Brave

Until we walk again …