I've been re-reading about it today. Mostly stories about the pilots that in my opinion had maybe the toughest flying job of the war: the D-Day glider pilots. Imagine being responsible for a bunch of guys that you have to pilot in and land safely in a glider _at night_, down to ground that you can't even see, while 800,000 German troops on the ground shine lights on your slow-ass unmaneuvarable wooden no-protection tub and do their best to shoot the hell out of you! Then put the thing down in almost total darkness in the middle of houses / horses / farms / roads or trees or whatever, without killing everyone, with no ability to go-round, primitive flight controls and lousy trim, while still getting the troops where they're supposed to be! God... !
I've flown enough in perfect weather with gentle crosswinds and super-stable aircraft with no one else to worry about to appreciate what a bi$#h of a job this must have been. Talk about guts!
It's too bad that the new beautiful WWII Memorial was not finished many years ago. I have known several men in their late 70's and early 80's who served, that have passed on in the last few years who would have been very honored to have been able to see that memorial, my late father-in-law among them. He died just last year, and he was a hell of a guy and a great father-in-law. He served in the South Pacific and by the age of 20 had won 3 battle stars for Guadalcanal, Bougainville and Iwo Jima, as well as the Marine Corps medal for heroism, and a Presidential Unit Citation. Of course, since he never talked about it, we didn't find out hardly any of this until he passed away and we went through his belongings.
It would have never occurred to him that he did anything at all special, and he always downplayed his service as being "just what everyone else did", but in my mind he was a real hero and his record speaks for itself.
Regards,
Norm