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12 May

MY FATHER, MY HERO

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My father and my hero, Cpl. Ernest P. Doucette served in the U.S. Army during WWII.

Dad served in the European Theater of Normandy, Omaha Beach and Pacific Theater, Luzon, New Guinea, Mindanao, Mindoro, Philippines and so on. He was in the 293rd JASCO (Joint Assault Signal Company) part of the Army’s 6th Special Engineer Brigade and was also specialized in combat training. He was the second generation to fight over in France. His father, my granddad was in WW-I and delivered supplies to the front lines in France.

My father enlisted because “that was the right thing to do and if he had to do it all over again, he’d do the same.” My dad never really talked about the war much at all. As a child growing up, I remember him watching the old war movies with John Wayne especially The Longest Day. Every once in a while when I’d go into the den, I noticed that he would be looking out the window just staring into space but I saw a tear run down his face. I never asked him if something was wrong–I never really thought much about it at that age. I guess I was around 7 or 8 years old.

It wasn’t until the movie Saving Private Ryan was released that he began to open up about it. While I was home visiting, I asked him if he saw the movie fully expecting him to say no. He had seen it twice! I asked him what he thought about it and his answer was: “Well, they did the best they could. The boats never came in that close to the beach. There was a little bit of ‘Hollywood’ in it but not much.” He got quite and then proceeded to tell me that he took a “side trip” exactly like that in Private Ryan to St. Lo! That peaked my interest because I knew then that there was more to this story than he was telling. That was my opening. I asked him to explain if he could.
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His commanding officer who also was a good friend of dad’s, Sgt. John Kmetz from the Bronx, NY, asked dad if he would go with him to St. Lo to help him find his brother before that battle broke out. With permission signed, they took off on foot catching a ride when they could and hiding from the Germans all the way to St. Lo. They found John’s brother, visited for a few hours and then headed back to Omaha the same was they came trying to catch a ride and hiding. That trip started my 4-year journey tracing his footsteps from England until he left Normandy.

Dad and one of my brothers Paul, came down to Virginia for the funeral of my father-in-law and on the way back, they stopped in Maryland at the Aberdeen Proving Grounds where some of the old tanks and equipment from WW-II was kept. He opened up to Paul a little and told him that after Omaha had been secured, he sat done on the sand to rest. He put his hand down on the ground to lean on and when he looked down at his hand, he saw the blood come up through his fingers. Tears came down his face as he told this to my brother. I do not remember hearing him really talk much about the war but listening to what he told my brother in Maryland and being observant growing up watching the expressions on his face as he’s watch the old war movies. I would have to say it was all the carnage, the loss of so many young lives that he never ever forgot.
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Dad had a very strong faith in God and when he left he knew there was a possibility that he might not return. I did ask him one time if he was scared and his answer to me was no. My mother never really saw a real change in him after his return from the war. They met at a high school dance, married when he returned from the Pacific Theater and were married for 56 years before he passed away in November 2001. The photos show Dad, their engagement picture, Dad and his medals and Dad’s transportation to Omaha, which blew up in the German teller mines. The picture shows the damages once brought to shore.

My dad came back to a very welcoming reception by everyone especially his family and our “soon to be” mom! I wish I had had more time with Dad to talk to him about all these things today because I feel he’d be more receptive to talking about them now than before. No one really talked about the war back then… But I have created a blog site called D-Day Daughter where I have extensive information about his journey to Normandy and Omaha Beach @ d-daydaughter.blogspot.com/
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My hero passed away on November 14, 2001. I can share this with pride and joy. He was just an amazing father to the 5 of us kids but always let us know that Mom was his #1 person. As kids growing up in New England, I remember Dad coming home from a long day’s work delivering mail but always finding that ‘extra energy’ to play with us. He was a rural carrier for 33 years and a town Selectman for 13 years. He was very active in our church, St. Theresa Catholic Church in North Reading, MA for many years too. Dad always had a smile on his face and the ability to agree or disagree with people. When he passed away, it was one of the town’s biggest funerals they had ever had. He was larger than life to us five children but not because of the veteran side of him. We hardly knew of that side.

He was our hero just because he was OUR Dad.
~ Louise Doucette-Johnson

It is a great privilege and honor to collect these stories from our veterans and their children. These stories are their stories.
~ Jenny Lasala

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