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PFC Samuel Joseph Bourque, Radstadt, Austria, 1944
This morning at 515 am, I started a tradition. I ran the 1st Annual Running Ranger Memorial Day Duathlon, a 4 mile run followed by a 16 mile bike ride followed by a 4 mile run. Came in at 2:15:24. Not too bad. Next year, I'm going to seek sponsorship and I will make the Du a public event in order to raise money and awareness for the Wounded Warrior Project.
Today's Memorial Day is like no other for me. It is the first that I have ever celebrated with both of my grandparent's deceased. My grandfather, Samuel Joseph Bourque, passed away in 2003. After that, I became somewhat of a pest to my grandmother. Knowing full well that Paw Paw had served in WWII, I asked her every chance I got if I could get his military records from her. She always had the same response: oh he didn't keep any of that stuff, when he returned from war, he just got rid of it. My mother would tell me that she knew that there were records and photos and whatnot in my grandparent's house, but it was up to my Maw Maw to either give them up willingly or for us to find them once she passed away as well.
Well, unfortunately, Maw Maw passed away not too long ago, and as my mom had stated, when she was going through their belongings box by box, she came across some items that she knew I would be delighted to see and to keep.
My Paw Paw was a very dear man to me, still is to this day even though he has been gone for almost 6 years. When I was offered a nomination to attend West Point in 1994, he was beside himself. He told every person that came to his lawnmower repair shop that his grandson was going to West Point. He knew before I did, haha. When I finally accepted the nomination, he caught me in my bedroom getting ready to leave for the airport bound for New York. Not one for many words, he walked into my room with tears in his eyes, and shoved a wad of cash in my hand as he said "Come back and see us". No hug, no kiss, just some money and well wishes and he turned and left and went back to his house.
On this Memorial Day, I'm sitting and thinking of my buddies that have paid the ultimate sacrifice, but I also think of my Paw Paw. I'm thinking of him the most because of the role and the impact he had in my life. He taught me how to fly a kite in his pasture, he taught me how to catch flounder in the Galveston East Bay, he taught me how to shoot a shotgun in the woods behind their home in Kountze, Texas...he taught me to be a man.
Never in a million years would I have thought that Christmas of 2002, my first as a new Infantry Second Lieutenant in the United States Army, would be our last together. Paw Paw, my dad, my uncle, and I sat around the living room telling jokes on Christmas Eve before opening a few gifts. It was a great time. I went to war with the 101st Airborne Division in February 2003, and I called Maw Maw and Paw Paw from far away places like Baghdad or Mosul. Paw Paw was hard of hearing so the conversation was never long, but we did say "I love you" to each other even though we were worlds apart. I returned from my first trip to war on the afternoon of December 16, 2003. Due to briefings and other typical military "necessary" actions, I never made it home to see my Paw Paw's face again until his funeral a few days later. He passed away on the morning of December 19, 2003, less than 72 hours after I made it home safely, sitting comfortably in his recliner, his favorite place in the world. Mom told me afterwards that he would sit and watch the news coverage of the war in Iraq and cry because he was so worried about me. He had trouble sleeping, partly because of his recalling experiences in WWII and hoping that I wasn't going through similar experiences myself. She told me that when she informed him that I had made it home safely, he grinned real big and dug to the very back of the cabinet beneath the kitchen sink. He pulled out a dusty bottle of Ezra Brooks bourbon and made himself a drink. He could finally relax.
I miss my grandfather dearly, and he is my hero. I talk to him on his birthday, I talk to him on Memorial Day, I talk to him on Veteran's Day, I talk to him on the day he left this earth. I even had a Ranger Instructor tell me that one night in a patrol base in Dahlonega, Georgia during the Mountain Phase of Ranger School, he happened upon me talking in my sleep, only I was on a knee with eyes wide open. He said I kept talking to a man I called Paw Paw, and since my voice was cracking a bit, he stood by and watched in an effort to keep others from disturbing me. When it was over, he said I got back into the prone position behind my weapon and again became just another Ranger in the crowd.
I know my Paw Paw is with me every single step of my life. He looks over me and my family and my two wonderful sons, Samuel and Joseph. He was and is my hero, and I love him dearly.
So, for my Memorial Day tribute, I'd like to show off some of the pictures and documents below found in the deep dark hiding areas of my grandparent’s home. Enjoy, and please thank a veteran today for their service. Thanks, Paw Paw, for making me a man and teaching me how to care outside of myself.
Below are different pictures from the times my grandfather spent in Naples, Rome, Southern France, Rhineland, Central Europe and Radstadt, Austria around 1944. The first couple are members of his infantry platoon. In picture #3, he and a friend in a villa, Paw Paw is on the right. Picture #4 is he and two other battle buddies with a couple of the local ladies, Paw Paw on the right again. Picture #5 is a picture of Paw Paw outside of what looks like to be their Command Post. Notice the patrol leaving the wire in the rear. The remaining couple pics are of combat operations in general. The three documents are his Enlisted Record, his Honorable Discharge and his manifest, front and back, bringing him home from war. Simply priceless items...
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