June 6, 1944...

"It is the individual soldier who faces the unknown and the known, the fear, the danger, the sweat, the agony, the horror, the doubt, the continuous go/no-go decision, the enemy muzzle, the wound, the death, the kill, and the endless trigger pulls needed to accomplish that which is credited to the team. In the end, it is the individual who occupies a casket, who grieves for a son, who wears a medal, who lives with scars and memories, who knows whether his praises are deserved or a reflection of the greatness of others."

Sixty six years a go a scarred but determined 17 year old rifleman, son of Italian immigrants, stepped off the ramp of a landing craft off the coast of Nazi occupied France code named Utah Beach. He and the rest of the 4th Infantry fought their way ashore and inland to link up with the 101st Airborne.

In less than a year Hitler was dead and Germany conquered, but his war ended in the hedgegroves of Normandy a little over 60 days later with a gunshot wound form a German sniper.

He returned home to Louisiana, with a CBI, Bronze Star and Purple Heart, had a family, built his own house and raised four kids.

This man is my late father in law, the kind of hero who is the salt of the earth and an inspiration to me. Thank you Papa Cascio…