My Interest
My paternal grandmother was an avid follower of Ernie Pyle’s column. He went pretty much along with my grandfather’s war so that’s likely part of it. I have a two of his books –one thanks to her. Back in the 1980’s at Indiana University, I used to regularly leave cookies in a mailbox for a boyfriend who was a graduate student in Journalism in Ernie Pyle Hall. (Today it is the School of Media).
The Story
Ernest Taylor Pyle went to war and told the soldiers’ stories. He told their personal stories as well as the stories of the battles in which they fought. He was, if you will, the “voice” of World War II to many on the home front– Mrs. Verne R. Hayes of Indianapolis, Indiana, among them. As Ernie and the “dogfaces” –the foot soldiers went through Northern Africa and around Italy and onto Omaha Beech on D-Day, my grandfather and his truck were nearby.
This book has, in a way, three stories: Ernie’s war, Mrs. Ernie Pyle’s story of manic depression in a era in which electric shock therapy was the newest thing, and the story of the author’s grandfather who fought the same war as mine. “Jerry” [Geraldine] Pyle’s battles with mental illness make Ernie’s achievements all the greater. He loved her and supported her through it all.
Ernie turned down amazingly lucrative deals for the best of reasons. He did not seek fame. He did not need to be a millionaire (though, had he lived, he would have been). He did not need much beyond a decent home, meaningful work, and care for Jerry. That’s a good man.
My Thoughts
Claimed both by his “native” state, Indiana, and his transplanted state, New Mexico, Ernie was the same sort of humble as the men I grew up around. Depending on the family you grew up in, you were “No better than anyone else” or you were “As good as anyone else.” These men made it through the Great Depression, did what their country required of them in the war, and came home and raised up one of the most entitled generations ever–mine (I am just barely a Boomer–born in ’62).
Sadly, Ernie didn’t live to see the 1960s, though from many of his sentiments, I think he’d have had a lot of sympathy for both the draftees who did their duty and went to Vietnam and those who fled to Canada.
I found it sad that he is buried in the Punchbowl Crater military cemetery in Hawaii instead of in one of the cemeteries in Europe. He spent nearly all of his war career in Europe. That he died soon after arriving in the Pacific was sad, but being left to lie among the men he’d barely known seems too sad.
My Verdict
4.0
The Soldier’s Truth: Ernie Pyle and the Story of World War II by David Chrisinger
I listened to the audio version.
Pet Peeves Ticked
I must, however, harp again on a pet peeve: The ridiculous overuse of the worlds “tasked” and “narrative”. Can any writer today find synonyms? So tedious. And, the dignitaries at Ernie’s funeral were “helmeted”? That raised a “duh” from me–it was in a war zone, during a war! A tad precious was the phrase her hair “kissed” her shoulders. Gag. At least nothing “informed” anything of Ernie’s, nor did he view anything through a lens of anything but his sunglasses! He did not yearn for “agency” thank goodness. Like most people in the world, he likely thought “agency” referred to an insurance office.
I really wish publishers would hire real editors who would help with this sort of thing. This is an EXCELLENT book, but would have been a step better had the author owned a thesaurus.
#nonficnov23