There stood, in 1941, a young man. Handsome in his army uniform, standing about 5'11, 185 lbs, as he married his sweetheart of 3 months, not knowing that in 2 yrs he would be off to Europe, fighting a war unlike any known before. And he did, leaving a wife and young son to go to war. He was a Sergeant, in charge of a group of men all younger than he yet they all were prepared to fight for their lives, their country, their families. their freedom.
The horrors he saw were the same as those before him had seen, and those soldiers that would someday follow. He and his group of men rescued a woman and her daughters from the enemy, who were terrifying their lives attempting to rape them, and remove any innocence left in their souls. The woman being so grateful, gave the Sergeant her silver wedding band as a token of gratitude. He watched young men be wounded, some die. He held them as they took their last breaths. He saw young men lose their sanity, shooting at anything that moved..and cared for them until medics arrived.
The war continued for this soldier until Dec 28th of 1944, during the Battle of the Bulge...when one of the men in his troop, while marching behind him stepped onto a land mine, it exploded..killing the young private and seriously wounding the Sergeant. He awoke a few weeks later in a hospital in France. It was March of 1945 before he was able to go home.
He found upon his return that he no longer had a job, the plant would not hire him back, as they considered him disabled. He took a job with a drugstore, and worked hard and long hours to take care of his family. He also took with him memento's of the war, schrapnel still was in his body..with the threat that if it moved, it could kill him.
He worked hard, raised his family and grew older. He spent 3 days in 1972 at a veterans hospital going thru one test after another in an attempt to have his disability rating increased, so one of his daughters could go to college. Nurses commented to him, questioning to find out if he was aware that he had metal in his body, he laughed. They increased his rating to 85%, not enough. He was so discouraged, but the daughter wasn't. She knew this was done with love, and it meant more to her than any medical school could have.
This man would sit and watch movies that would bring back the past, wringing his hands and smoking a million cigarettes as the memories over took him, yet this man who fought the enemy and had killed could touch a human with the softness of angels.
In 1989 he was hospitalized, at a veterans hospital. His wife and some of his children would visit every day, and listen to the stories told by the vets who were there with him. One of his daughters learned about life from these men, and learned of their courage, and how to find her own. The old Sergeant took a turn for the worse, and was placed in intensive care, and on Feb 24, 1989 they took him from there to a private room, so his family could spend his last few hours alone with him.
His wife of 48 years, and one of his daughters, spent that time with him, leaving only to fight with nurses to get him water, or storming a doctors quarters to get pain medication for a man who had given everything he had for his country, his home. Fighting to give this man his chance to die with dignity, as he had lived. The battle was won, they gave the soldier his medicine, and at 4:50 that afternoon the nurse called to his wife and daughter...saying "he needs you". His wife held him in her arms, his daughter at his side holding his hand, they said goodbye.
His widow has his flag, placed on the shelf beside his picture, and an old silver wedding band lays in the jewelry box. His purple heart is now a special possession of one of his daughters. He lies in a cemetery, with his son and an infant daughter, his grave marker bearing his name...
His soul is free, the war is over.
Dedicated to all Veterans past, present and future.
In Loving Memory of my Father
Sgt. Charles Joseph Horner, US Army
75th Division, 289th Infantry
Anti Tank Corps.
(Side note: I wrote this in 1998. It was published in a local newspaper for Veterans Day 1999 as the lead entry of a tribute to all veterans. I posted it here in my blog previously. I wanted to run it again. I miss you Pop.)
