
Today is Memorial Day and I was reflecting on my Father. He was fiercely proud of his time in the Navy during WWII. I loved to hear him tell his “War Stories” when I was a child. I used to climb up into his big chair with him and coax him to tell about this one or that one - even though I’d hear them all many times before. He was a great story teller.
He was on a ship in the Pacific for most of his time in the Navy. He told of an instance when their ship caught fire when in a large convoy. The entire convoy couldn’t stop for one ship and so they were left to put out the fire and try to get back to port as the rest of the ships sailed on to their destination. His ship was lost for 6 month at sea and my mother didn’t know where he was or what had happened to him during that time. He later told of ho
w they battled the fire on the ship and worked to make repairs so they could get back to safety before they were spotted by the enemy and destroyed.