First off, hope everyone has a Merry Christmas to those that celebrate it!
Second, thought I would show you a recent acquistition. While it may not be all that exciting to most, for a RI brewery collector this is pretty cool, especially seeing that it's for the 1946 WS season. But better than that, what I thought was really special was the story that went with it. This schedule was found in the wallet of an gentleman who served during WW2. I thought I would share his story as I'm thinking of our troops overseas who won't be home celebrating the holiday. It's so important to remember everyone serving out there over the years.
Anyway, here's the story that goes with the schedule.
About my Dad. He quit high school in his senior year to join the army. He joined in 1938 when he was 16 years old with his mothers written permission. His father died of pneumonia when my Dad was 6 years old. My father was one of 11 children so you see, back then during the depression, it must have been really tough for one woman to raise 11 children. This was one big reason for my Dad joining the army.
When D-Day arrived, he was on one of the first 4 landing crafts to hit Utah beach during the fist wave. I remember him telling me over the years that when the ramp dropped, he saw nothing but water. He was proximately 1/2 mile from the beach. By the time he was 1/2 way to the beach, he was running through nothing but dead body's.
My father was involved in all 5 major battles during the European theater and was awarded a battle star for each one. He has also received 2 silver stars. He was awarded 3 purple hearts, but turned them down. He turned down every promotion that was ever offered to him only because it could be taken away as easily as given. He was awarded paratrooper wings for training with the Rangers.
He was a medic who served under General Eisenhower, although it wasn't direct. His outfit was known as the bastard patrol. He, along with 12 others, would be ahead of the rest of the outfit as scouts and clear the path for the rest so to speak. Didn't sound like much fun to me.
13 men in his unit went into WW2 in D-Day, 12 men came home. My father, along with the other 12, landed on Utah Beach during the first wave, and was on the last fleet to come home after Germany surrendered. All had plenty of points to come home much sooner, but all elected to stay for the duration. They all faced enemy fire more times than not because the bastard 13 spent more time behind enemy lines than any other unit. Not only to scout, but to also go back to retrieve the dead.
The only member who didn't make it home died a strange fate. When one member of the bastard 13 when on R&R, they all did. The fir
st time in over 8 months they were pulled back for R&R, they stayed in Paris once it was liberated. For the first time in ages, the men slept in actual bunks instead of on the ground. One man rolled over and fell out of the top bunk splitting his head open on the cement floor and died shortly after. My Dad told me that of all the death and bloodshed he saw, that death was the worst for him to deal with.
I could go on forever about my Dad but I don't want to bore you too much. If you want to know more, I'll do my best. Anyway's, Your item will be sent on Wednesday. I sure hope you will be pleased with it...
Obviously, this little piece is something special.
Have a great holiday guys.