On Veterans Day, We Are At Our Best When We Share Their Stories

For many Americans, Veterans Day serves as a once-a-year opportunity to recognize the tiny minority who volunteer, on behalf of the many, to serve the cause of our nation’s defense. Today there will be ceremonies, speeches, free coffee, and maybe a sale at your favorite store. If you sense that my words are tinted with a bit of cynicism regarding what’s become of our annual Veterans Day traditions, you’re right.

For many Americans, Veterans Day serves as a once-a-year opportunity to recognize the tiny minority who volunteer, on behalf of the many, to serve the cause of our nation’s defense. Today there will be ceremonies, speeches, free coffee, and maybe a sale at your favorite store.

If you sense that my words are tinted with a bit of cynicism regarding what’s become of our annual Veterans Day traditions, you’re right. I’m cynical because of my privilege. Here I’m referring to the privilege conferred to me every day, because of my work with and on behalf of veterans at Syracuse University. It’s through that work I’m reminded daily – sometimes in the most profound way possible – of the cost paid to defend freedom and democracy around the world. It’s a cost paid by this nation’s soldiers, sailors, airman, Marines, and their families. And often, the burden of that debt extends over generations.

For example, not long ago I had the opportunity to spend some time with a group of Syracuse University students studying abroad in Florence, Italy. On that trip we visited a town called Ameglia, where I randomly stumbled across a monument that listed fifteen names identified as soldiers of the United States Army. I was intrigued. I wanted to know the story. What I later learned was that this simple plaque told a story of service, sacrifice, and overwhelming tragedy. It’s a story that is long forgotten by most, with the likely exception of the families of the fifteen U.S. soldiers who volunteered to take part in Operation Ginny.

Operation Ginny took place in 1944, during the Italian campaign of World War II. The Office of Strategic Services – the precursor to the present-day CIA – conceived a sabotage mission to destroy a series of railway tunnels on the Italian coast, effectively cutting off communications between the German 10^th Army positioned in northern Italy, and the German 14^th Army stationed in central Italy. To carry out this exceedingly dangerous mission, the OSS recruited Italian-American soldiers from the ranks of the U.S. Army. Most of these men were first generation immigrants to the United States, many of whom fled Italy as children when the fascists took power in 1922. All of them were eager to serve on behalf of their new homeland when the U.S. entered World War II in 1941.

Under the cover of darkness and several miles off the Italian coast, these fifteen volunteers embarked on rubber boats and headed for the village of Stazione di Framura. However, the soldiers were forced to deviate from their original course when they came upon German PT boats engaged in a minelaying operation. As a result, the OSS soldiers eventually made landfall several miles from their intended destination.

Realizing that they were miles from their target and with sunrise was quickly approaching, the mission commander, 1^st Lt Vincent Russo, made the decision to hide the rubber boats on the shoreline and head to a nearby farm. The plan was to seek food and shelter at the farm until the following evening, when they would head out to destroy the railway tunnels. However, later in the day a local fisherman discovered the Americans’ rubber boats hidden on the shoreline, and he alerted the Germans. A massive search ensued and after a brief firefight, all fifteen soldiers were captured by the Germans and taken to the Italian town of La Spezia.

The German General in charge at La Spezia sought guidance from Berlin as to what to do with the American prisoners. The response that came back later became infamous. Now known as Hitler’s ‘commando order of 1944’ – the Americans were to be executed.

On March 26, 1944, German General Anton Dostlor ordered the execution of all 15 solders, in clear violation of the Geneva Convention.  For this crime, General Anton Dostlor was the first Nazi tried and executed for war crimes at the conclusion of the war.

Obviously, I did not know 1^st Lt Russo – or any of the soldiers on his team – when I stumbled on an obscure plaque in a random Italian town. However, I know them now. And, because I learned their story and shared their story, you know them as well.

I believe that we are at our best as a nation when we share the stories of this nation’s sons and daughters who have served not just on Veterans Day, but every day. Telling these stories drives home the costs and consequences of war to a citizenry that is today largely disconnected from the small minority who shoulder the burden of our collective defense. Further, on the heels of one of the most divisive and polarizing elections in our nation’s history, reflecting on the selfless service of those who have worn the uniform just might represent a reason for Americans to see a path to something bigger than ‘red states’ and ‘blue states.’

It is my hope on this day, the story of 1^st Lt Russo and the soldiers of Operation Ginny – and the stories of all who have served over generations – can bridge our differences and unite us as Americans.  This would be the best gift we could bestow upon our veterans on Veterans Day.

To the Soldiers of Operation Ginny, who lost their lives in service to our country on March 26, 1944:

Mike Haynie is an Air Force veteran, Vice Chancellor for Strategic Initiatives and Innovation at Syracuse University, and Executive Director of the D’Aniello Institute for Veterans and Military Families (IVMF)