On this Memorial Day, I’m honoring a real hero, my Godfather, and greatest uncle any kid could have, James Foster Morgan. Uncle Jim, married to my Aunt Helen Ade, from Otterbein, IN, enlisted in the Army during WW II and was a glider trooper in the glider infantry of Company C19th of the 17th Airborne.
Uncle Jim was among those who landed in France on D-Day on the Beach of Normandy. He was sent back to England after five weeks. Then all the men in the 101st division, were sent back out, and his glider was shot so severely that the commander had to cut lines connecting them to the airplane, and their glider came down behind German enemy lines.
The Dutch Underground helped Uncle Jim and the pilot as best as they could, hiding in the daytime and traveling at night, with barely enough food to keep them alive for the next five weeks. Finally, the Underground found a hole in the line, and the men could get to Belgium.
They were flown back to England, stayed for two months, and then rejoined their group in France. The soldiers went to Bastogne and were soon surrounded by the Germans in the Battle of the Bulge and the Battle of Ardennes Forest. Near Christmas of 1944, the men stayed in the woods or barns where conditions were snowy and cold. After several weeks the weather cleared so that the Airforce could bomb the German tanks and trucks inside the Bulge. In the zero weather of January, the Germans withdrew, having lost more than 600 tanks and suffered 90,000 casualties.
Jim’s Division was taken then to a rest area and then to Neuss in the Ruhr Valley, where the battle for control of the Rhine was taking place. As the war was over and Berchtesgaden was captured, Jim was there in June. There was still snow on the Bavarian Alps all around. Many tunnels led to the top of Berchtesgaden, which Hitler had built at the cost of millions.
I wear a St. Christopher medal with the name of a French lady my uncle met while in France. She helped keep my uncle alive so he could return home.
Aunt Helen was active in the VFW and I always remember her selling poppies every year. The red poppy is a nationally recognized symbol of sacrifice worn by Americans since World War I to honor those who served and died for our country in all wars. I have a poppy pin now to remember my godparents.
Many of the heroes of WWII never talked about their experiences, and I regret that I didn’t ask Uncle Jim to retell his story to learn more about how he felt about being a soldier. We are forever grateful for the soldier’s service to our country to protect our freedom.
