Dad entered the Second World War like any other man, trying to do the right thing.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
When I was a kid, my dad went to World War II. I didn't know him. I was born in '41.
The time not to become a father is eighteen years before a war.
You know, my dad was a lieutenant colonel at Ft. Lewis on the 3rd of March, 1941. Fifteen months later, he was commanding a theater of war.
My father took me back home, back to Greenwich Village, and he thought by taking me out of the orphanage he'd be out of the World War too. But no way - they got him anyway. He went in the Navy and then I lived on the streets.
My father is American and deserted the Vietnam War.
My mother had a son from previous marriage and her husband died in Second World War.
My dad was a Navy munitions officer, and by the end of his career, he was a specialist in nuclear weapons.
My dad was a big admirer of Sergeant York stories from the First World War.
My father was in the First World War.
My daddy was a World War I pilot, and I just wanted to be able to fly like he did.