05/26/2025
This Memorial Day, I’m grateful for those who fight and have fought for our freedom. Thank you.
I’m remembering my grandfather.
“I came in the night saying my prayers,” he wrote on the D-Day Anniversary program handed him by a small French boy at the VIP tent at Iron Mike.
My grandfather, Capt. Chet Graham, 82nd Airborne, 508 PIR, F and Hq, left law school to fight against the Darkness. He carried 120 pounds of gear - and only a rifle and a hand gr***de. On the way across the channel the Germans lit up the sky with searchlights. Combined with the moonlight, “You could see the plane’s travelers and the anti-aircraft fire,” he recalls. His plane took heavy flack, but he ensured everyone jumped – he said he had to push the last guy out.
Everyone missed their drop zones. “My signal officer dropped 30 miles away. And I dropped at about 250 feet,” he muses.
He landed in an apple tree on Georges Marion’s Picauville orchard on a street that now bears his name. ”His father let us get water from his pump during the liberation,” he recalled that risky choice.
They moved to reconnoiter – then faced brutal Hill 30, The Battle of Bloody Gulch.
Next, they fought at Hill 95 where my grandfather briefly commanded. They had an exposed flank. General Lindquist and he had a difference of opinion: ending with my grandfather asking him to come down there and then give those orders. He stood up for his men and lost command. They lost 70 of their 150 men company during these Battles of Normandie.
Later they dropped into the Nijmegen - Market Garden - two days before his daughter, my mom, would make her entrance. Then he fought in the frigid Ardennes - Battle of the Bulge. - and he would never talk about it. His eyes would just glaze over.
I miss him and wish we were making another D-Day trip to Normandie this year.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZBK8ERC4RQ4