I will assume that for the most of you, if you are following this blog, you know of my deep and profound love and respect for history. However, if you do not, allow me a few moments to express that to you in more than a sentence simply stating that. My love of history transcends most time periods in one way or another, however the one I immerse myself in the most is the period of 1914 - 1945, although more specifically the Second World War era, or the "Greatest Generation." At some point in my life, I do plan on going to university, and furthering my education in this subject. But at the moment, I'm content to research and indulge at my leisure - it remains fun that way.
Without droning on and on about the extraordinary contributions made during that time by otherwise ordinary individuals, I will simply say that I believe the measure of mankind's goodness and willingness to do what is right was defined by that generation and the few years spent abroad by so many in truly atrocious conditions. A lot of men and women lost their lives, fighting for the freedoms that we everyday (myself included) take for granted. Can we say that we would do the same? Personally, looking at what society has turned into, I'm not certain that we would. However, I also hope to never have to be proved wrong, quite frankly.
All of that being said, the world has recently lost such a person - a remarkably brave, selfless, modest, and utterly fantastic man - and the planet is a little less bright now that he is gone.
On January 2, 2011 at ninety-two years of age, Major Richard D. Winters passed away. At the time of his death, he requested that his funeral and burial be private, so it was not until yesterday that the world came to know of his death. Suffice to say, anyone who knew of the man and his accomplishments were incredibly saddened to hear of his passing - myself included.
Like most of the general public, I was introduced to Major Winters via a book written by Stephen Ambrose entitled Band of Brothers: E Company, 506th Regiment, 101st Airborne from Normandy to Hitler's Eagle's Nest, which chronicled the story of a group of paratroopers from their time training at Camp Toccoa, Georgia until the end of the war. It was stuffed into my purse by a friend at a Halloween party a few years back - he was astounded I hadn't read yet. At the time that it was formed, the Airborne Infantry was a relatively unheard of idea, many men joining because of the extra money and the wealth of training provided. The Airborne was a different breed of military, and it produced a unique breed of men from the Officers right down to the Privates and other enlisted men. Dick Winters was one of these Officers, starting off as Lieutenant at Toccoa after having completed his officer's training at Fort Benning, and was separated from the military at the end of the war with the rank of Major.
Of his personal life, I won't tell you much, because that's ultimately not what this is about. He was a private, modest man who didn't much care for the fame that Ambrose's book bestowed upon him, although he seemed to be pleased that generations were now aware of the contributions of him and his men. He never talked about the war until he was approached by Ambrose. Perhaps it was the quiet way about him combined with his military accomplishments, and the fact that his men loved him and would have followed him "into hell" as one trooper named Floyd Talbert is quoted as having said, but over the past year, Dick Winters became a personal hero to me. Not that he wasn't in the eyes of many, but he never cared much for the statement, preferring instead to say that he had served in the company of heroes. And it's people like that I truly look up to and admire. That's not to say that no one else who served during that time isn't a hero to me - they all are, my Grandfather who fought in Burma included. That level of bravery, modesty, intelligence, and selflessness commands so much respect, and it was for all of those reasons and more that I adored and admired the Major, despite having never met him.
Yesterday was a blustery, stormy, snowy day in Nova Scotia. As with most Sundays, I went to my parents' house to do laundry, my roommate and I braving the elements and foolishly driving on less-than-safe roads. I spent the day doing aforementioned laundry, helping my mother shovel snow, cooking, and playing with my dog. I arrived home to a message from a friend on my computer ... had I heard that Dick Winters had died?
No. No, I had not. No ... oh goodness, this isn't true. It can't be. The man is immortal.
I immediately went to the internet, trusting the blogging website Tumblr to put things right, as I follow many people there who have a similar interest in WWII history and the Band of Brothers story.
It was true.
As I felt the tears coming on, my roommate came into my room, showing me a bottle of liquid that her brother had sent her from Korea. We had no idea what it was - water? Juice? Alcohol? No idea. I attempted to quietly usher her out of my room, lest she think I began weeping over the unknown contents of a Korean bottle of sorts. Thankfully, she had a new television to attempt to set up. I closed the door, laid on my bed, buried my face in my pillow and wept.
I was heartbroken, and for a man I had never met. I put the kettle on five times in an attempt to make tea, and kept forgetting that I was making tea. I couldn't properly function, it was as if I wasn't capable of doing so. Suffice to say, it took a couple of hours for the news to sink in, and I went through a whirlwind of emotions. I am currently sitting on "quietly mourning, with a side of happiness." Yet, even still with all of this time to reflect, I can't find the words that I so desperately want to say about him. I'm not eloquent enough to convey what I'm feeling, nor can I adequately express what a wonderful person and hero he was. Even having not known him, I know these things to be true. He was a hero, one willing to make the ultimate sacrifice so that you and I could live free and be here today. He was one of millions ... and he was one in a million.
Putting things into perspective helps immensely. As sad as his passing is, Dick Winters was ninety-two years old. He'd lived a long, happy, and peaceful life, something that was not so kindly afforded to many of the men who served with him in places such as Normandy, Eindhoven, and Bastogne. My hero, Major Winters, got the death that he deserved, far away from the battlefield and in old age. I take solace in that, and it helps to ease some of the pain that I've been feeling in that pit that resides somewhere in my heart.
Wherever the Major is, I hope that he's reunited with his friends and his men that he lost so many years ago. I cannot possibly imagine the pain of having to endure so many people who have touched one's life not being there anymore - whether it be due to the wearing of time on one's existence, or a mortar shell or bullet that if it had just moved a little further to the right, it would not have snatched a young soldier away before they should have gone. I believe that death is not truly the end, and I hope that the new beginning that he has found have brought those people who I am certain he has missed into his world again.
I have regrets, which sounds extremely odd considering the circumstances. As selfish as this may sound, I never got to tell him what an inspiration he's been to me. I thought about it recently - writing to him, regardless if he would've read it or responded. I understand that he was ill for a while, and had requested privacy in light of this. But I just wanted to tell him. And I didn't, and now I can't. I'm angry at myself for that. I'm certain that many of other people said all of the things that I wanted to say, but he didn't hear it from me, read it in my chicken-scratches that I reluctantly call writing. It's an opportunity I didn't take up, and as silly of a regret as it may seem, I have it, and I will carry it for a little while.
Time heals all wounds.
He touched the lives of so many people, and I'm sure he knew that. I'm just so happy that he was here to do the things that he did, to make our world a better place. I'm so happy that he was here to do the things that he did, so that we could appreciate them. And I'm so happy that he was here to do the things that he did, so that we can miss him now that he's gone.
I've lost a hero before - my Grandpa Jim, who passed away in the fall of 1991. I was six-years-old at the time, far too young to understand the scope of my Grandfather not being there any more. It's only recently in the past five years that I've really begun to mourn him - I barely knew him, and he was taken from me before I could sit down with him and hear his stories (another entry for another day). However, losing Dick Winters, even if to the gentle passing of time, hurts far more than I thought it ever would.
I regret that I've become too long-winded, this entry losing it's original intention. However, I feel that it all needs to be said, however lengthy. I implore you all to read Major Winters' memoirs, published some years ago and titled Beyond Band of Brothers: The War Memoirs of Major Dick Winters. While I believe it to be mostly a rehashing a lot of things we were already told by Ambrose, the personal stories and touches that the Major did afford us are eye-opening and wonderful.
In the popular HBO's mini-series "Band of Brothers," which was based on Ambrose's book, there is a scene in the last installment where Major Dick Winters (portrayed by Damian Lewis,) and Captain Lewis Nixon (Ron Livingston) encounter their superior officer from Camp Toccoa, Captain Herbert Sobel (David Schwimmer). Winters and Sobel exchange what I guess one would call "pleasantries," but Sobel does not salute the Major, who now outranks him. Winters says commandingly, yet in a very soft tone, "Captain Sobel, we salute the rank, not the man."
Today, we salute the man.
In closing, I will say this: Thank you, Major for everything that you've done. You will continue to be an inspiration to me throughout the rest of my life.
Without droning on and on about the extraordinary contributions made during that time by otherwise ordinary individuals, I will simply say that I believe the measure of mankind's goodness and willingness to do what is right was defined by that generation and the few years spent abroad by so many in truly atrocious conditions. A lot of men and women lost their lives, fighting for the freedoms that we everyday (myself included) take for granted. Can we say that we would do the same? Personally, looking at what society has turned into, I'm not certain that we would. However, I also hope to never have to be proved wrong, quite frankly.
All of that being said, the world has recently lost such a person - a remarkably brave, selfless, modest, and utterly fantastic man - and the planet is a little less bright now that he is gone.
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| Major Dick Winters pictured after returning home from the war in December 1945. |
Like most of the general public, I was introduced to Major Winters via a book written by Stephen Ambrose entitled Band of Brothers: E Company, 506th Regiment, 101st Airborne from Normandy to Hitler's Eagle's Nest, which chronicled the story of a group of paratroopers from their time training at Camp Toccoa, Georgia until the end of the war. It was stuffed into my purse by a friend at a Halloween party a few years back - he was astounded I hadn't read yet. At the time that it was formed, the Airborne Infantry was a relatively unheard of idea, many men joining because of the extra money and the wealth of training provided. The Airborne was a different breed of military, and it produced a unique breed of men from the Officers right down to the Privates and other enlisted men. Dick Winters was one of these Officers, starting off as Lieutenant at Toccoa after having completed his officer's training at Fort Benning, and was separated from the military at the end of the war with the rank of Major.
Of his personal life, I won't tell you much, because that's ultimately not what this is about. He was a private, modest man who didn't much care for the fame that Ambrose's book bestowed upon him, although he seemed to be pleased that generations were now aware of the contributions of him and his men. He never talked about the war until he was approached by Ambrose. Perhaps it was the quiet way about him combined with his military accomplishments, and the fact that his men loved him and would have followed him "into hell" as one trooper named Floyd Talbert is quoted as having said, but over the past year, Dick Winters became a personal hero to me. Not that he wasn't in the eyes of many, but he never cared much for the statement, preferring instead to say that he had served in the company of heroes. And it's people like that I truly look up to and admire. That's not to say that no one else who served during that time isn't a hero to me - they all are, my Grandfather who fought in Burma included. That level of bravery, modesty, intelligence, and selflessness commands so much respect, and it was for all of those reasons and more that I adored and admired the Major, despite having never met him.
Yesterday was a blustery, stormy, snowy day in Nova Scotia. As with most Sundays, I went to my parents' house to do laundry, my roommate and I braving the elements and foolishly driving on less-than-safe roads. I spent the day doing aforementioned laundry, helping my mother shovel snow, cooking, and playing with my dog. I arrived home to a message from a friend on my computer ... had I heard that Dick Winters had died?
No. No, I had not. No ... oh goodness, this isn't true. It can't be. The man is immortal.I immediately went to the internet, trusting the blogging website Tumblr to put things right, as I follow many people there who have a similar interest in WWII history and the Band of Brothers story.
It was true.
As I felt the tears coming on, my roommate came into my room, showing me a bottle of liquid that her brother had sent her from Korea. We had no idea what it was - water? Juice? Alcohol? No idea. I attempted to quietly usher her out of my room, lest she think I began weeping over the unknown contents of a Korean bottle of sorts. Thankfully, she had a new television to attempt to set up. I closed the door, laid on my bed, buried my face in my pillow and wept.
I was heartbroken, and for a man I had never met. I put the kettle on five times in an attempt to make tea, and kept forgetting that I was making tea. I couldn't properly function, it was as if I wasn't capable of doing so. Suffice to say, it took a couple of hours for the news to sink in, and I went through a whirlwind of emotions. I am currently sitting on "quietly mourning, with a side of happiness." Yet, even still with all of this time to reflect, I can't find the words that I so desperately want to say about him. I'm not eloquent enough to convey what I'm feeling, nor can I adequately express what a wonderful person and hero he was. Even having not known him, I know these things to be true. He was a hero, one willing to make the ultimate sacrifice so that you and I could live free and be here today. He was one of millions ... and he was one in a million.
 | |
| Dick Winters with friend Captain Lewis Nixon some time during WWII. Nixon passed away in 1995. |
Wherever the Major is, I hope that he's reunited with his friends and his men that he lost so many years ago. I cannot possibly imagine the pain of having to endure so many people who have touched one's life not being there anymore - whether it be due to the wearing of time on one's existence, or a mortar shell or bullet that if it had just moved a little further to the right, it would not have snatched a young soldier away before they should have gone. I believe that death is not truly the end, and I hope that the new beginning that he has found have brought those people who I am certain he has missed into his world again.
I have regrets, which sounds extremely odd considering the circumstances. As selfish as this may sound, I never got to tell him what an inspiration he's been to me. I thought about it recently - writing to him, regardless if he would've read it or responded. I understand that he was ill for a while, and had requested privacy in light of this. But I just wanted to tell him. And I didn't, and now I can't. I'm angry at myself for that. I'm certain that many of other people said all of the things that I wanted to say, but he didn't hear it from me, read it in my chicken-scratches that I reluctantly call writing. It's an opportunity I didn't take up, and as silly of a regret as it may seem, I have it, and I will carry it for a little while.
Time heals all wounds.
He touched the lives of so many people, and I'm sure he knew that. I'm just so happy that he was here to do the things that he did, to make our world a better place. I'm so happy that he was here to do the things that he did, so that we could appreciate them. And I'm so happy that he was here to do the things that he did, so that we can miss him now that he's gone.I've lost a hero before - my Grandpa Jim, who passed away in the fall of 1991. I was six-years-old at the time, far too young to understand the scope of my Grandfather not being there any more. It's only recently in the past five years that I've really begun to mourn him - I barely knew him, and he was taken from me before I could sit down with him and hear his stories (another entry for another day). However, losing Dick Winters, even if to the gentle passing of time, hurts far more than I thought it ever would.
I regret that I've become too long-winded, this entry losing it's original intention. However, I feel that it all needs to be said, however lengthy. I implore you all to read Major Winters' memoirs, published some years ago and titled Beyond Band of Brothers: The War Memoirs of Major Dick Winters. While I believe it to be mostly a rehashing a lot of things we were already told by Ambrose, the personal stories and touches that the Major did afford us are eye-opening and wonderful.
In the popular HBO's mini-series "Band of Brothers," which was based on Ambrose's book, there is a scene in the last installment where Major Dick Winters (portrayed by Damian Lewis,) and Captain Lewis Nixon (Ron Livingston) encounter their superior officer from Camp Toccoa, Captain Herbert Sobel (David Schwimmer). Winters and Sobel exchange what I guess one would call "pleasantries," but Sobel does not salute the Major, who now outranks him. Winters says commandingly, yet in a very soft tone, "Captain Sobel, we salute the rank, not the man."
Today, we salute the man.
In closing, I will say this: Thank you, Major for everything that you've done. You will continue to be an inspiration to me throughout the rest of my life.
Major Richard D. Winters
January 21, 1918 - January 2, 2011
January 21, 1918 - January 2, 2011
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| Dick Winters pictured with Damian Lewis, who portrayed him in the HBO mini-series, "Band of Brothers." |
