The Mantovani boys were as close knit as brothers could be on December 7, 1941. Mario(24), Oscar(22 and my father) and Richard(17) decided that they would join the military together. My father was finishing up college at East Strasbourg College in Pennsylvania. My uncle Mario was working and still living at home. My grandfather did not want my uncle Richard to join until he was 18 years old.
On August 12, 1942 they walked into an Army Recruiting Office and enlisted. All went to the Army Air Corp; the predecessor of the United States Air Force.
They were first generation Americans living an 'old world style Italian life' in Brooklyn, New York. Italian was spoken at home almost more than English. The backyard was over grown with grapes that my grandfather used to make into his own wine. Even when I was a child I would help him crush grapes each year.
My grandparents came from Northern Italy. My grandmother from the town of Castelnovo Bariano in Veneto and my grandfather from Sermide in Lambardia. Those two towns are separated by some 25 miles but as strange as it seems they met in Brooklyn after they emigrated.
The dilemma that the Mantovani's found themselves in was one that many Italians, Germans and Japanese, who had emigrated to the United States, found themselves. They would be fighting against members of their own families. The thought of having to do that terrified my grandparents because as American as their sons were they were living in both the American and Italian worlds.
My father and uncles did not want to go to the European Theater of Operations for that very reason. A few years before the war started they had visited their Italian relatives and had spent a good bit of time with them. The thought of facing them on a battle field was very daunting.
My father was lucky in this respect. He was sent to the South Pacific. But both my uncles served in operations in Italy. It weighed very heavy on them the rest of their lives. Seeing the destruction of their home land and actually visiting the towns where there parents grew up after the Germans had left was a terrifying experience.
Especially in Sermide where the Germans were particularly brutal. While there both my uncles visited the graves of our fallen relatives. To my knowledge they never told my grandparents what they had seen. It would have broken their hearts.
My father served in the Air Force for 30 years both active duty and reserve duty. He retired a Lieutenant Colonel. My dad returned to school, Pace College, and obtained a business degree. My uncle Mario stayed in the Air Force, on active duty, for some 30 years until his retirement. My uncle Richard became a professional bowler and was quite successful.
My family, while I am extremely proud of all of them, is not unique. They were one of thousands of families that sent their sons and daughters to WWII. My family was lucky because they all come home. So many families paid for our freedoms with the lives of their children.
These men and women went willing to war to protect our way of life. Pray to God that we have men and women who are willing to step forward to help preserve our country if they are needed.
Personally I have serious doubt the we have raised a generation of Americans who can come any where near the 'Greatest Generation'.
Love ya,
Randy
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