Before reading this book – an “inheritance” from the late Tom Chettleburgh (my wife's Dad), I had read of Mr. Pyle and had read a few of his columns, but not many.
Ernie Pyle wrote nearly every day while in Europe and w as truly the best voice of the foot soldier of any reporters. He – simply – presents the war in Europe from literally the boots in the mud level. This is about foot slogging G.I.’S. This is front line reporting from those in fox holes or other places of cover. These articles cover the front from England, England, France, and North Africa, finally ending on Okinawa where Ernie Pyle was killed by a burst of machine gun on April 18 of 1945.
In this book he covers without any candy coating the cold, the filth, the exhaustion, the fear, the sickness, the wounds and death all around them.
His death was mourned by millions of Americans who had come to know and rely on him during the war. A close “relative” if you will. The outpouring of mourning was akin to that of FDR, just days earlier. A double blow to the country and morale.
He had an understanding of human nature, great eye for detail, making things very real to the reader. He had a capacity for identifying with the soldiers on whom he was reporting and in his mind, he adopted them as his own. He finished out the war in the ETO, and wanted to return the states and put it behind him. But he felt compelled to go to the Pacific and specifically Okinawa. At the center of that motivation was that there had not been the ETO. It ended on Ie Shima, an island off Okinawa by a burst of machine gun fire and he took a bullet in the temple. Instant death.
One thing that I remember my Uncle Bob – PTO – telling me was why he was living on a farm in a very rural area of the northern part of Michigan. I had asked him why he was so far from everyone. He finally told me that it was because he . . . “did not want to ever see another Jap, again.” From Ernie’s book is the statement “In Europe we felt our enemies, horrible and deadly they were, were real people. But he went on to say about the Japanese “ . . . they are looked upon as something inhuman and squirmy like some people feel about cockroaches or mice. I’ve seen one group of Japanese prisoners in a wire-fenced courtyard, and they were wrestling and laughing and talking just as humanly as anybody. And yet they gave me a creepy feeling and I felt in need of a mental bath after looking at them.” I have to wonder how my Uncle Bob felt after he found his Christian faith.
I was absorbed by this book. It has a lot of detail and while you might be tempted to skip some of it, you find that if you are so tempted that you feel like you are walking away from those G.I.’s.
Pyle’s personal story is another thing altogether. His personal life was a mess for sure. Drinking, failed marriage, etc. There is time for that maybe someday. Not important as it relates to this book.
I gave the book 5 stars. Loved it, but found it painful and very sobering at times. I knew a man who was at Normandy on 6 June 44 as well as my uncle Bob serving in the PTO and Dad was an instructor on B-24’s at Willow Run in Belleville, Michigan.
That generation came home and became known as the “Greatest Generation”
I will close with a quote from the author of the book “The Greatest Generation . . . “A book every modern journalist—and citizen—should read.”—Tom Brokaw