Found this site and thought I'd look in as I'm interested in the history and stories of paratroopers in general.  My late father,  Jim Brodie,  was in the 17th Airborne after which he was moved to the 82nd Airborne when the unit was retired after jumping into the Battle of the Bulge.  He ran communications wire just behind the front, once told of having to freeze in place while enemy patrols came near.  Escaped undiscovered, fortunately. 

He later went into Berlin with his unit, drove generals around in a jeep,  in between repairing the telephone exchange that the Germans had sabotaged before they left town.  He had the unfortunate experience of seeing some of the concentration camps after they had been liberated:  the sight haunted him as it did so many others.  He spoke very little of his wartime experiences when we were growing up--I believe that the camps had a lot to do with this. (also memories of buddies shot out of the air: 'sitting ducks'. )  He later became involved in going to a few reunions,  it was a healing experience for him.  The rumors of atrocities while advancing on Berlin seemed exaggerated to my dad and his buddies.  It was horrific to find they were true.  Young soldiers who came home and made effective lives,  raising families and working hard:   this proves the power of hope and optimism in the human spirit. 

Dad was an ironworker, following in his father's footsteps building bridges, skyscrapers, airports,  etc.  It was fun to drive around the San Francisco Bay area in dad's later years, with him pointing out various projects he had worked on.  In his retirement,  he and mom lived in Tucson,  Arizona,  where dad spent over a decade working with Habitat for Humanity.  It became a full time job,  where he was a supervisor orchestrating new builds, working with the city planners & building department.  He worked every day keeping the work going, and taught hands-on building courses at several high schools in the area as well.  Every year,  students completed a house and had it moved onto a foundation in the area,  ready for a deserving family to move into.

Dad made it to the age of 80, when leukemia finally got the better of this brave, strong man.  He worked up until the last month of his life,  and left a list of things he wanted carried on for his family to attend to.  One was that season tickets to Spring Training would be purchased! --he died in March,  and my brothers were poised to come to town---they had a bittersweet final gift from dad.  Another item was that his 'Habitat family',  a young family who had lost their father just before moving into their new home--should get their customary Christmas gifts from him after he was gone.  Mom performs this task in dad's absence. 

My father left a strong impression on his children and grandkids.  My nephew in Michigan has undertaken to run a Marathon in his honor,  with pledges raising money for research against Leukemia.  You can visit his website:  http://www.active.com/donate/tntmi/CLiberacki   There are some photographs of dad on my nephew's site.

I hope to visit from time to time and learn more about the history of this unusual group of people.  As children,  we spent hours jumping from the porch holding onto umbrellas,  only knowing the novelty of the idea of paratrooping.  It was a great honor in the late 1990's to take a flight in a 'tail-dragger' with my Dad.  The old McDonnell Douglas plane used in the war,  named 'Puffer',  had been lovingly restored by a pilot in northern California.  The jump lights and static line were all in place, with  a nylon webbing door letting in the noise of the engines and the sound of the wind.  Dad stood at the door when we reached altitude---he said his nerves were on fire,  just waiting for the jump light to come on!   He also mused that he had never, ever landed in that particular plane.  Just take-offs, with the only way back to the ground being his trusty 'chute.

Thanks for listening, 

E. Brodie

p.s,  if I should post this somewhere else on the site,  please advise. 

In honor of my dad,  James R. Brodie Jan 1925-March 2005 17th Airborne Division/82nd Airborne Division

All the way, sir!!!

"ALL THE WAY"

 

I'm Surprised Panama's still sea level, after all the Push Ups I did down there.

I guess I need to clarify:  I'm a daughter.........and yes,  I think my four brothers were jealous that they weren't there to go up in the tail-dragger with dad! 

It was a once in a lifetime opportunity and we came upon it by coincidence at a fly-in at a tiny airport between Sacramento and Lake Tahoe.  In fact,  'Puffer' was the largest plane to ever land and take off there............

jumpollie. 

In honor of my dad,  James R. Brodie Jan 1925-March 2005 17th Airborne Division/82nd Airborne Division

http://www.paratrooper.net/commo/Topic225729-103-1.aspx

RJ - SCOUTS OUT!

1/508th Abn Inf, 82nd Abn Div 81-83

1/4th Inf (Mech), 3rd Inf Div (USAEUR) 83-84

SGT\EIB\Recondo

"Politics is the art of looking for trouble, finding it everywhere, diagnosing it incorrectly and applying the wrong remedies." - Groucho Marx

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 Out of every 100 men, ten shouldn't even be there, Eighty are just targets, Nine are the real fighters, and we are lucky to have them, for they make the battle. Ah, but the one, one is a warrior, and he will bring the others back." - Hericletus, circa 500 BC

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