Standing on the brige of a German Sub captured by Commander Irvine's battle group.
A Quiet Man
A Quiet Man
My father was a quiet man.
He didn't speak of his adventures, he didn't brag of his triumphs.
My father was a graduate of the Naval Academy.
The Naval Academy at that time was one of the most difficult of schools to get into. It is by invitation only, only the best of the best. It was by congressional appointment to the sons of the best and brightest our country had to offer.
My grandfather was instrumental in the cure for syphilis during world war one.
Back then; it killed almost as men as the Germans. Therefore earning the placement for my father to attend the Naval Academy to pursue a engineering degree.
Now, after graduation my father was denied his commission as an officer because he wore glasses and at that time before our entrance to the war the armed forces could still be kind of picky who they wanted commanding their ships.
When my father was called to active duty, he was 24. he was to fight in World War II, as the commander of a destroyer in the north Atlantic.
The German submarines at that point had decimated allied shipping, navies and ruled the seas.
There was no radar, there was no sonar, and you knew a submarine was around when its first torpedo hit you or your colleague.
My father watched as ship after ship went down around him. He rescued all the men he could but he watched many others die; the surviving ships often turned and headed home, battered and beaten.
My father, his best friend, and a group of other ship captains came up with the combat convoy formation they still use today. One that would offer some protection to some of the ships and they went out yet again, to avenge with murderous intent.
The war was starting to turn by then, but the German navy still dominated the seas.
The Nazis decided to launch a huge winter offensive; they were counting on the weather, Mother Nature to assist them.
They were relying on weather reports from a submarine in the north Atlantic to launch and to facilitate their attack and victory.
Equipped with their new combat formation and our newest technology, a most basic radar and sonar my father detected the nazi sub.
For three days they hunted the sub, playing cat and mouse or "search and attack" off the coastline of Europe, then a sister ship reestablished contact with the new underwater sound equipment.
Commander James M. Irvine directed his ship into the field of fire and launched his depth charge attacks. The sinking of this sub was a key part in our victory in "The battle of the bulge", contributing materially to sealing our victory in WW2,
My father was awarded the Legion of Merit with the combat V, the third highest award of our navy.
The war for him was not over yet, on his last mission, he forced the surrender of another nazi sub, and escorted it back where it is on display in the Chicago museum of science and industry.
Dad never told me these stories, like a said he was a quiet man. I caught up with a young (back in WW2) man who had served under my father, he was kind enough to give me the picture above
My dad died July 4th weekend in 1988,
My son was 9 months old, and my father never saw his only grandson.
I was a different man back then. My ego, my pride, the anger of a young man had driven a wedge between my dad and I.
So we had not spoken for a while, July 4th weekend meant I was working. July 4th weekend meant nothing to me, except work and everybody complaining we had to work on a holiday. I liked the fireworks and the parties even though I worked through most of that too. But I never thought about the true sacrifice for freedom, his sacrifice for freedom, the ultimate sacrifice thousands have given.
My mother gave a call that weekend to let us know my father had died.
Mom gave me his medals, the letter from the President and Secretary of the Navy for his legion of merit, and the navies "action report".
As the years have passed I have grown, I have come to better understand my quiet father by reading those letters of award, by gazing at his medals, and the memories of a quiet man who sacrificed along with the tens of thousands before and since. The tens of thousands who paid the ultimate price for our freedom that I so carelessly enjoy.
The fourth of July is a day of parades, fireworks and celebration in the United States.
Someone in your family, or the family of someone you know are grieving for every freedom we enjoy.
Please share a moment of remembrance for the cost of our freedom.
He didn't speak of his adventures, he didn't brag of his triumphs.
My father was a graduate of the Naval Academy.
The Naval Academy at that time was one of the most difficult of schools to get into. It is by invitation only, only the best of the best. It was by congressional appointment to the sons of the best and brightest our country had to offer.
My grandfather was instrumental in the cure for syphilis during world war one.
Back then; it killed almost as men as the Germans. Therefore earning the placement for my father to attend the Naval Academy to pursue a engineering degree.
Now, after graduation my father was denied his commission as an officer because he wore glasses and at that time before our entrance to the war the armed forces could still be kind of picky who they wanted commanding their ships.
When my father was called to active duty, he was 24. he was to fight in World War II, as the commander of a destroyer in the north Atlantic.
The German submarines at that point had decimated allied shipping, navies and ruled the seas.
There was no radar, there was no sonar, and you knew a submarine was around when its first torpedo hit you or your colleague.
My father watched as ship after ship went down around him. He rescued all the men he could but he watched many others die; the surviving ships often turned and headed home, battered and beaten.
My father, his best friend, and a group of other ship captains came up with the combat convoy formation they still use today. One that would offer some protection to some of the ships and they went out yet again, to avenge with murderous intent.
The war was starting to turn by then, but the German navy still dominated the seas.
The Nazis decided to launch a huge winter offensive; they were counting on the weather, Mother Nature to assist them.
They were relying on weather reports from a submarine in the north Atlantic to launch and to facilitate their attack and victory.
Equipped with their new combat formation and our newest technology, a most basic radar and sonar my father detected the nazi sub.
For three days they hunted the sub, playing cat and mouse or "search and attack" off the coastline of Europe, then a sister ship reestablished contact with the new underwater sound equipment.
Commander James M. Irvine directed his ship into the field of fire and launched his depth charge attacks. The sinking of this sub was a key part in our victory in "The battle of the bulge", contributing materially to sealing our victory in WW2,
My father was awarded the Legion of Merit with the combat V, the third highest award of our navy.
The war for him was not over yet, on his last mission, he forced the surrender of another nazi sub, and escorted it back where it is on display in the Chicago museum of science and industry.
Dad never told me these stories, like a said he was a quiet man. I caught up with a young (back in WW2) man who had served under my father, he was kind enough to give me the picture above
My dad died July 4th weekend in 1988,
My son was 9 months old, and my father never saw his only grandson.
I was a different man back then. My ego, my pride, the anger of a young man had driven a wedge between my dad and I.
So we had not spoken for a while, July 4th weekend meant I was working. July 4th weekend meant nothing to me, except work and everybody complaining we had to work on a holiday. I liked the fireworks and the parties even though I worked through most of that too. But I never thought about the true sacrifice for freedom, his sacrifice for freedom, the ultimate sacrifice thousands have given.
My mother gave a call that weekend to let us know my father had died.
Mom gave me his medals, the letter from the President and Secretary of the Navy for his legion of merit, and the navies "action report".
As the years have passed I have grown, I have come to better understand my quiet father by reading those letters of award, by gazing at his medals, and the memories of a quiet man who sacrificed along with the tens of thousands before and since. The tens of thousands who paid the ultimate price for our freedom that I so carelessly enjoy.
The fourth of July is a day of parades, fireworks and celebration in the United States.
Someone in your family, or the family of someone you know are grieving for every freedom we enjoy.
Please share a moment of remembrance for the cost of our freedom.
