[the last letter to his wife, whilst on his way to jumping behind the lines on D-Day—and killed by a plane crash even before he jumped. An officer in the 101st Airborne: Screaming Eagles:]

“In a few hours I’m going to take the best company of men in the world into France. We’ll give the bastards hell. Strangely, I’m not particularly scared, but in my heart is a terrific longing to hold you in my arms. . . .

“We’re fortunate in being Americans. At least we don’t step on the underdog. I wonder if that’s because there are no ‘Americans’—only a stew of immigrants—or if it’s because the earth from which we exist has been so kind to us and our forefathers, or if it’s because the ‘American’ is the offspring of the logical European who hated oppression and loved freedom beyond life? Those great mountains and the tall timber; the cool deep lakes and broad rivers; the green valleys and white farmhouses; the air, the sea and wind; the plains and great cities; the smell of living—all must be the cause of it.

“And yet, with all that, we can’t get away from the rest. For every one of our millions who has that treasure in his hand there’s another million crying for that victory of life. And for each of us who wants to live in happiness and to give happiness, there’s another different sort of person wanting to take it away. . . . Those people always manage to have their say, and Mars is always close at hand.

“We know how to win wars. We must learn now to win peace . . . If ever I have a son, I don’t want him to go through this again but I want him powerful enough that no one will be fool enough to touch him. He and America should be strong as hell and kind as Christ.”

Cap’t. Thomas Meehan