“There are only two forces who have offered to die for you, Jesus Christ and the American military.
Posted by Tina
A few days ago we had an exchange on Post Scripts when Lisa posted comments against the war in Iraq. Lisa generously shared with us that her father had been killed in the Iraq war. She shared the bitterness she feels toward those who support the war and confessed she hoped she could learn to forgive them. When I saw the following story I thought about the brave men and women who risk their lives in military service to our country but I also thought about Lisa and about the millions of others who have sacrificed loved ones so that others might be freed from oppression, subjugation, torture and death. I hope Mr. Knudsen doesnt mind my editing of his beautiful storyand I hope it brings comfort to those who have sacrificed so much to know that we honor the memory of those who have fallen.
Please take the time to read the entire storyits about one mans journey to discover more about his real father, a soldier who gave his life at Normandy during WWII, after his 18th birthday when his mother revealed the truth about his birth:
Kirkland man’s journey to find father brings past to life, by Bill Knudsen
Your real dad’s name is Bill Cuthbert. You are named after him; he was killed in the Second World War. He was a navigator on a B-24 bomber and his plane was shot down over France on April 20, 1944, when you were just about 6 months old. He is buried in the American Cemetery in Normandy, France. Then your stepdad and I met in late 1945 and we were married in 1946. That is also the same year that he adopted you and we made a commitment to raise you as our son together.”
I quietly dreamed of honoring this man who gave me life, saw a few pictures of me, but never ever held me in his arms, or tossed a ball with me, or watched me take my first steps, or had to deal with what a screw-up I was in high school. ** …last March, I had an experience that literally took my breath away and brought uncontrollable tears to my eyes. After 64 years, four months and 14 days, I finally got to meet my birth dad, Bill Cuthbert, whose final resting place is Plot D, Row 14, Grave 42 at the American Cemetery at Normandy, just above Omaha Beach, in Colleville-sur-Mer, France. ** The cemetery grounds, given to America by the French government, include a white marble reception building, several statues, a small chapel and a reflecting pool that flows into the grounds. The grass and shrubs are so well manicured, you would have thought the head groundskeeper at The Masters had cared for them. The white marble crosses that stretch across the grounds are placed so that from any angle north, south, east or west they form perfect lines, as if the brave fighting men who reside there will be in formation forever. ** I was there to finally meet my dadI was presented with a packet of information on the cemetery, details on my dad’s service record, a guide who couldn’t have been lovelier or more caring and a private golf cart for our tour. ** His grave is located just four crosses from the end of one of the long white rows, only a few hundred yards from the surf rolling in on Omaha Beach below and a few miles from England across the windy, cold English Channel. ** When you stand there, watching the tourists strolling the beaches below, you can almost see those thousands of ships on the horizon, the landing craft opening their doors, and those tens of thousands of brave fighting men coming ashore in June 1944 to help free the French people and the rest of Western Europe. Many of them would never come back, including others who died in the days leading up to the invasion, like my dad, Bill Cuthbert. His marble cross lies only a few yards from that of Teddy Roosevelt Jr., whose heroic fight with senior officers to go ashore with his men at Normandy cost him his life. Roosevelt won the Medal of Honor for his activities that day. ** At the grave, the hostess left us so we could be alone. It had begun to rain, though that was the least of the water that hit the ground as both Dave and I, overcome, cried with uncontrollable emotion.