A son's remembrance: Honoring a father, a soldier, a generation

In 1958, I was born to Dick and Eunice Blackburn as their third and youngest son. Named David Thomas Blackburn, I joined my older brothers, Richard and Joe, as first-generation baby boomers. Just as my father, I was born and raised in the peaceful countryside of Bedford, Pa.

My brothers and I would “play army” in the back yard of our home often and used the authentic ammo belts, canteens, packs and other  gear that dad allowed us to play with from his Army chest he kept in the basement. During that time as children, my brothers and I didn’t realize the significance of those leftover relics from our father’s past. We found it difficult to understand why we were never allowed to play with the latest real-looking toy guns that some of the neighborhood kids had. Instead, dad took the time to make us wooden guns out of plywood and painted them to make them look more realistic.

When we were old enough to comprehend the meaning of war, dad would tell us meager accounts of his experience during the war, but only when we would ask him about it. I remember going to Gettysburg battlefield in southern Pennsylvania, which was the site of a crucial Civil War battle and where President Lincoln delivered his famous Gettysburg Address in a ceremony to dedicate a part of the battlefield as a National Cemetery for Civil War dead. We would visit this national monument often on family outings, and being there in a cemetery for fallen soldiers always seemed to put dad in a very somber mood.

When I was still a teenager, mom and dad had an opportunity to be part of a battlefield tour to France and Germany in the fall of 1977.

While in France, dad actually found the very tree where he and Capt. Kaiser knelt discussing strategy for the day’s battle back in August 1944 when the German 88 artillery round hit the tree and exploded above them, killing Kaiser and wounding dad for the first time. He took a picture of the tree with his camera and showed us boys once the photos from his memorable trip were developed. Of course, the scar on that tree was quite a bit higher up the trunk after more than 30 years more growth had been added, but dad thought that it was a miracle that particular tree was still standing after all the devastation of war and the passage of time.

Once dad sold the family hardware store, “Jay Blackburn & Sons,” in 1985 and officially retired, he began to write more about his war experience, in hopes of someday being able to publish his memoirs for the  family. He spent countless hours at his old electric typewriter and refused to change over to a more modern desktop or laptop computer to simplify his work. Dad was determined to complete his story the old-fashioned way, pecking his memoirs out on that ancient electric typewriter. He would often send us excerpts from his writing; and until then, I really didn’t come to realize the extent of what my father and mother had been through during World War II.

When Tom Brokaw’s book, “The Greatest Generation,” was published in 1998, my parents began to talk and reminisce more about their World War II experience. Once I read those excerpts about the reality of war as seen through my dad’s own eyes, I then understood precisely why he could not bear to see his young sons using real-looking rifles to “play army” after what he had seen “over there.” Since dad had been so impressed with the book, “The Greatest Generation,” I felt compelled to send Brokaw an excerpt from dad’s memoirs. In response, Brokaw graciously sent me a copy of his book with the inscription: “To Dave, through the heroics of his father, Capt. Blackie, who knows the real meaning of this Great Generation.”

With more than 600 World War II veterans dying daily, being able to bring this book of memoirs to completion and publication has been a personal  goal of mine for quite some time. Knowing how much work dad has put into his memoirs over the past 30 years, I eagerly anticipate the look on my father’s face when I can finally place the finished product in his hands. Even at 93 years young, dad is still worthy of the satisfaction from one more accomplishment in his life.

Thanks to my friends, the Berry family — Jerry, his wife, Donna, and their daughter, Stephanie — a published manuscript will finally be placed before my dad’s eyes. Their many hours of hard work to transform dad’s journals and notes into a compelling real-life story are greatly appreciated by all of us Blackburns.

Lastly, heartfelt thanks to mom and dad, the Kaiser family, and all the members of the “Greatest Generation” who enabled us to live in freedom.

We honor you!

(Dave Blackburn is the proud son of Richard M. Blackburn.)