The text message I received from my big brother this week said, “I would not expect you to meet this challenge with any less courage than it took for Dad to jump out of that hedgerow into a bunch of Germans and start shooting…..” Thank you for that reminder, Dale.
My
father, Quentin Latta, enlisted in the U.S. Army after the Japanese bombed
Pearl Harbor. He trained and became a
paratrooper, serving with the 101st Airborne. He jumped into Normandy on D-Day, June 6,
1945. Many of the U.S. paratroops
landed nowhere near their intended drop zone that dark morning. My father ended up much farther north than
the planned DZ, but he did not know that.
He did not see a single other Ally that night or for the next three
days. When he started walking to the rendezvous
site he was travelling in the opposite direction. He travelled for 3 days, at night, and laid
down in fields of grain during the day to camouflage himself and rest.
On D-Day
+3, Daddy heard German voices and saw them sitting in a circle below him. His written account stated that since he had
been sent to France to kill Germans that is what he decided to do right then
and there. He jumped out of the hedgerow
into the middle of the circle of Germans and began shooting.
That is
how the Lattas do.
After
my head was shaved this week, my childhood friend, Denise, exclaimed that I
looked just like my Dad. I feel that it
is quite fitting that I will go through chemotherapy looking like Quentin
Latta. I will try to make him proud of
me.
A kind,
thoughtful, young man sent me the link to a Youtube video this week of a man fighting a
much, much, bigger fight than mine. He has been fighting a rare, aggressive cancer for the past seven years. He
is facing the fight with courage, grace and determination. It is Stuart Scott of ESPN's Sport Center.
Stuart advises, “Don’t give up. Don't EVER give up.” He also stated this, "You beat cancer by how you live, why you live, and in the manner in which you live." I, too, am living life with cancer on my own terms with the love and support of my friends and family.
Blessed be the LORD, my rock, Who trains my hands for war, And my fingers for battle; My loving kindness and my fortress, My stronghold and my deliverer, My shield and He in whom I take refuge. Psalm 144