My Dad spent the duration of the war as a glider trooper in the 101st Airborne. He was in Bastone(sp)during the "battle of the bulge", ditched a glider in the North Sea on his way to a drop in Holland, and landed on the beach in the Normandy invasion (they'd run out of gliders). While he was serving his country his wife (my brothers mother) was back in the states dying of tuberculosis. I guess it was a whole accumulation of things, but right at the end of WWII he suffered a nervous breakdown and was finally discharged. After discharge our government did nothing to help him put his life back together. I don't know if things would have been better for him with counceling, but spending the rest of his life self medicating himself with alchohol certainly wasn't the answer. I missed the service, as a kid my big brother was my hero and a Marine. I wanted to be a Marine too but strained my back just before I went in for my physical exam. The doctors xrayed my back and found two compressed discs. When I refused to sign a form releasing the military of any liability should I injure my back they didn't take me and ended up giving me a 1Y classification. I was embarrased when I told my Dad but much to my surprise he was happy for me. This was during the summer of 1966.
Steve
