There’s a park around the corner from me, a real nice place; kid’s playground and picnic area, a small lake for fishing. It’s a pleasant spot to spend an afternoon, one where I’ve spent many an hour with my children.
The park’s named for a Medal of Honor winner, a man who used to live in the neighborhood. He was an Army Sergeant, Second World War, who found himself and his squad pinned down on an Italian hillside one October morning in 1944 by heavy fire from emplaced German machineguns and mortars. Undeterred by the deadly fire that ricocheted off the barren rocks, he directed his squad to stay under cover while he climbed around the left flank and attacked the first machinegun emplacement. In a surprise assault of unexpected ferocity, he forced the surrender of 8 soldiers, whom he sent down to his men below. He was discovered as he crept towards the second emplacement, yet under withering fire he leapt to his feet and, bobbing and weaving, crouching then lunging, he charged ahead. He killed four and forced a fifth to surrender. He then went after the third machinegun, this time in the face of a thoroughly alerted enemy. So ferocious was his attack, so aggressive his shouts and bursts of gunfire, the four enemy gunners threw down their arms. The fourth emplacement was not so easily cowed. Situated on the crest of the hill, their backside protected by a fifth emplacement, these soldiers took a stand to stop this crazed man. Four died, three surrendered. And the fifth emplacement surrendered as well — all six soldiers chose capture over death. In his one-man assault, Sergeant Chris Carr overran 5 machinegun emplacements, killed eight enemy soldiers, took 22 prisoners, and saved the lives of the men of his company. When his battalion moved in the next day, it found itself in possession of the neighborhood’s commanding ground.
My family and I have lunch at the park some days. We talk about movies we’ve seen, books we’ve read, places we’d like to go. We don’t speak of troubles there, nor do we discuss the day’s events on those grassy slopes. We are content to know there are some things for which words are not necessary, that the grass and placid waters can tell us all we need to know.
Probably not what you're looking for, but I'm filled with awe that there are people as tough as Chris Carr. And if you see a picture of him, he's even more amazing. He had the looks of an accountant.
http://www.homeofheroes.com/photos/6_ww2/carr_karaberis.html
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