My dad outside of Berlin, May 1945.
The great Dodgers baseball announcer Vin Scully took the media to task yesterday for not remembering the anniversary of D-day:
Normally on the telecast we talk about "This Day in Baseball." I don't mean to sound grumpy or grouchy, but I can't believe what I didn't hear. I listened to the news on the radio for about an hour and fifteen minutes today—did not hear one word about what this day really means. June the 6th, 1944. Do the names Omaha, or Utah, Gold, Juno, Sword, do they mean anything? They're the beaches at Normandy. Sure, today was D-Day, the invasion of Europe, when thousands of soldiers gave their lives so that we could be free. I'll be darned if I saw any real publicity about it at all. Please don't let that happen again next year. Please? Yeah, this day.
Ok, Vin. I'll try to do better next year.
Anyway, I love this photo of Dad looking young and skinny and serious. He was a country boy who loved to hunt and fish and this was the grand adventure of his life. A year later he would be married with a baby on the way - on a whole different kind of adventure.