The Real Heroes

In a perfect world, I would have followed my Dad's "Tracks Across Europe" as he did them.  Day by day.....from England, to France, to Belgium, Holland and Germany, back to Paris and then to Czechoslovakia (now known as the Czech Republic), where he ran a displaced persons camp after the war, until he was sent home in late 1945.   The real world awaited him when he returned, and the real world awaits me.  I leave Europe the day after tomorrow.  Although I am not going to make it to Germany, where Dad fought for the Remagen bridge, or the border of Belgium and Germany, where he fought in the Hurtgen forest - I will leave here a changed person because of what I experienced.   Today, was nothing short of amazing and honestly, might be one of the very reasons I was supposed to come on this trip.  But I'll get to that in a minute....

Seventy years ago today Dad's unit, the 467th, had already been moved from the area of Omaha Beach to Gruchy, France to defend and hold bridges, and fuel and ammo dumps.  By the end of July, they were further south, defending the 959th Field Artillery Battalion and helping the Allies break through German lines at St. Lo, France.  The 29th Infantry unit, of which the 467th was a part, led the charge. Because of its strategic location, the town of St. Lo was almost completely destroyed during the war.  My visit there on Sunday confirmed that only a few pre-war buildings still exist.
(St. Lo - July 1944 - Photo courtesy of Wikipedia France)

After the victory at St. Lo, the 467th became attached to the 2nd and 1st Army Divisions and fought throughout France, Belgium, Holland and into Germany.   According to a letter on the "Commendation on Performance of Duty" in the Normandy, Northern France, Ardennes, Rhineland and Central European Campaigns - the 467th  had "151 aerial engagements, destroying 14 hostile planes; had over 60 ground engagements, destroying innumerable armored and motor vehicles, killing over 150 enemy troops and capturing 350 supermen", a term given by the German's to describe their soldiers.

But today, I visited the graves of some REAL Supermen....

I started out the morning in Bastogne, Belgium at the WWII Museum there.  It has recently reopened after a year long renovation.  It's not the biggest museum, nor does it have the biggest collection, but it is absolutely one of the best museum experiences I have ever had.  If you are a historian or a WWII history buff, place it near the top of your list.

The museum uses the real life stories of four people to bring different perspectives on the war and give you a narrative as you look through the collections.  The subjects are:  a young boy, who lived in Bastogne during the war and who's father owned the local bike shop.  A twenty-something woman, who was both a teacher during the war and a bike messenger for the resistance;  and two soldiers, one German and one American, from Savannah, Georgia.  You must get the audio tour to experience this completely, but it's worth the extra few dollars.  Additionally, there is a 3D experience and another move that really bring it to life.

For some reason, this is the one museum that I didn't do a lot of research on before I left, so imagine my surprise when I walked outside and saw the massive memorial that the Belgium people had constructed to say "thank you" to their liberators.  It was simply beautiful.

The museum and a few towns that Dad's unit had visited were really all that was on my agenda today. That is, until yesterday, when my sister Melissa, who really spent the most time with Dad visiting and seeing the sights in Europe, reminded me that two men from Dad's unit were buried in the Henri-Chapelle American Cemetery north of Malmedy, Belgium.  I knew then I was going to make that trip.

Sitting on top of a hill and overlooking a lush, green, rolling Belgium landscape,  the Henri-Chapelle Cemetery is lesser known than Normandy, but offers a peaceful and beautiful setting nonetheless.  As with all of the American Battlefield Monument Commission cemeteries, it's landscaped perfectly and the familiar rows of crosses and stars of David have an immediate, gut wrenching effect of reverence and silence.  Seeing the almost 8,000 graves of American soldiers buried here, on top of seeing 9,400 graves in Normandy - made me realize once again, the herculean efforts the US went through on behalf of our Allies  It also struck me that each cross represents far more than the name on the front.  It represents the entirety of families back home who never got to say good-bye and who will always remember their loved one as forever young.

Robert (Bob) Vocker and Dad met at Jefferson Barracks, Missouri.  They went through basic training together, landed D-Day together and became friends.  Dad told my sister that Bob was the best fox hole digger in the entire unit.  Leslie Farr was from Michigan and came to the 467th as a replacement after D-Day.  Replacement soldiers were brought in to fill in for another soldier who was killed or wounded.

It was September 10th, 1944.  According to the day reports for that day, the Battalion Headquarters and Headquarters Battery were moved to the vicinity of Houppertingen, Belgium.  They established the Battalion Command Post at 1515 hours (3:15).  Battery "C", which was Dad's battery, was shelled by enemy artillery at 2020 hours (10:20pm).  10-15 rounds were fired.  Two enlisted men were killed, three wounded and one of the wounded was evacuated.   The two men killed were Bob Vocker and Leslie Farr.  According to Dad, they were in a field and artillery was called in on them.  

Today when I arrived at the cemetery, I went inside to ask for help locating Vocker and Farr's graves.   A young, handsome Belgium man jumped up right away and offered vases for the flowers I had brought along.  As he looked in the computer system for the location of the two graves, another man came in from a back door.  His name was Bobby Bell, and he is an American and the Superintendent of the Cemetery.  I told Bobby and Lionel, the young Belgian man, the story of Vocker and Farr, and what I knew of them.  Bobby said, "hold on, let Lionel go with you, you'll see why in a minute".
So off we went to find the graves. Me carrying a paper with the locations, the flowers and vases full of water, and Lionel carrying a bucket of sand, two sponges and four flags.  I had no idea why.

We arrived at Plot E and found Bob Vocker's grave.  Lionel said to me, "you said he landed D-Day, right?"  I shook my head yes, and Lionel promptly took the sponge, covered it with some wet sand and began to fill Bob Vocker's etched name with sand.  He then took the sponge and carefully wiped off all of the sand but what filled his name. The result was a much more defined name on the marble cross.  I looked at him inquisitively, and he said, "this sand is from Normandy."  Tears welled up in my eyes. He then took the American and Belgium flags and put them next to the flowers I brought.  I took some photos and he removed the flags and said, "could you please give these to his family.  Please let them know that they flew at his grave in Belgium, and we are thankful for him." Tears welled up again, but I accepted the flags.

We did the same routine at Farr's grave, although I'm not certain one way or the other if Farr actually landed on D-Day.  As I mentioned above, he came as a replacement, but it doesn't mean that he didn't land with another unit.  Sand aside,  Lionel asked me to give the flags to Farr's family as well.  I happily accepted.  It was Lionel's idea to turn one set around so I wouldn't confuse which one flew on which grave.  That was all good....but there was one problem.  I actually didn't KNOW either the Vocker or Farr family.  I had NO idea where they were, who they were or if they were even findable.  But I knew I would do whatever it took to find them and bring them those flags.  Turns out, it didn't take long.

About an hour later, when I got back to Malmedy, I sat down on a park bench across from my hotel.  I pulled out my iPhone and used Google to search Vocker's name with the phrase "KIA".  I pulled up his military records and it showed not only his parents names, but his siblings as well.  Using my old radio producer brain, I started at the first logical place.  Facebook.  Ok, go ahead and laugh, but it worked.  I went to the Facebook search bar and just typed in the last name.  About half way down there was an organization titled "Vocker Family".  It was set up for a family reunion for relatives of Bob.  I reached out and within 10 minutes I received a reply from Bob Vocker's nephew (by marriage), John.  It turns out that only one sister is still living, and the information they have on Bob's time in the service is basic and pretty limited.  I told him what I knew from Dad and encouraged him to check out this blog to find out what Bob was doing on D-Day, etc.  As I mentioned, Dad and Bob were together the whole way from basic and were still together on the day he died.  (As a matter of fact, Bob Vocker also played a role when Dad met Omar Bradley.  That was D-Day plus 6, so that is tomorrow's blog)

I have also started the hunt for Leslie Farr's family, but as of yet haven't been able to find them.  It's only been a few hours, so I'm hopeful that tomorrow might lead me to them.  I want them to have their flags and photos as well.

The part of the story that I didn't tell the Vocker family is the connection that my Dad has had with Bob over the years.  You see, for many years Dad was a State of Illinois Road Scholar as part of the Illinois Humanities Council.  He would travel all over the Midwest speaking and teaching about his war experiences.  On one of his trips back to Europe, I think it was for the 59th Anniversary, my sister brought my Dad and Mom to the Henri-Chappel cemetery to see Vocker and Farr's graves.  Dad used a pencil and took a charcoal etching of the names.  From that moment on, in every subsequent speech, he would hold up those etchings and say "Do you see these two names?  These two guys, who were paid $35.00 per month are real heroes, not some overpaid football or baseball player or high priced actor. These two fine men died for their country. THEY are heroes."

Dad was right.