I Fought at Caen

Very nice to meet you, Clay Trainor. I find it a fascinating and deeply personal read. Thank you so much for sharing some of your history.

Maybe it's a girl/boy thing, but as much as you were enamored by war, I was just the opposite. I always felt that in the end, talks happen, and the dispute is settled. It never made sense for young men to die needlessly as I saw it. "What a waste" is what always came to mind.

As I've gotten older, I've come to understand more about war and conflict as you have. I have always been beyond grateful to those that have risked and continue to risk their lives, so I can sit here and write to you freely. That never changed, but my views of the necessities of fighting absolutely have.

I remember exactly where I was on 09/11. I sat fixated on my TV that day and watched live as the second plane was swallowed up in the second tower, people jumped to their deaths to avoid flames, and the towers collapsed. I have no idea how long I sat there with my mouth open, simply stunned. My daughter was 3 months old, and I was 40.

A bit of my family history: quite a lot of my family died during the Holocaust. And I thought people had moved past antisemitism...mostly. I never thought I'd see so much hate in my lifetime and understand what it feels like for people to want me dead simply because I breathe. At 65, I now have two daughters, ages 23 and 25. Unfortunately, this will be their world more than it is mine at this point. I am worried for them.

When October 7th happened, no one wanted to talk about it. Not one person in my office said a single thing to me to ask how I was doing or if I had any family there. They all knew I was Jewish.

But we can't hide. I think that's where you are now. Charlie knew it. We have to be seen, do our best to be heard. I'm not particularly religious, but I go to a very public Menorah lighting every year where we are protected by local police, drones, and snipers on the roof across the street. It's oddly not scary because I know that my presence there matters.

Your presence here matters more than you likely realize. So I say again, it's very nice to meet you, Clay Trainor, proud grandson of Captain Trainor. Kay

Like you, I didn't grow up around the military. Closest I had was my dad. Born in 1931, he was the fourth boy in his family, a surprise after three boys and one girl. Dad was only 10 when Pearl Harbor was hit. Two brothers, Les and Warren, answered the call; the third, Dale, was 4F due to a heart condition, but did what he could by going to work in a rubber factory.

Dale died first. Pneumonia, probably aggravated by his workplace. Warren, a Navy pilot, died enroute to the Pacific theater over the Panama Canal. Army and Navy were flying maneuvers to pass the time while waiting to go through the locks. A hot-rod Army flyer crashed into Warren's plane, killing everyone.

Now that I've watched a few movies like Saving Private Ryan, I wonder if that wasn't God's mercy for them and my grandparents. Both sons died without seeing the horrors of the battlefield. Last brother Les, an Army pilot, was kept stateside after the two deaths, so he too was spared.

Nevertheless, the double tragedy marked my dad deeply. He served in the Naval Reserve during college but never claimed it. It was nothing, he felt, compared to what his brothers did.

So I ended up married to an Army officer and got an education about the military that way. Hubby was part of Schwartzkopf's end run into Kuwait during Desert Storm. And me? I was an odd duck. When I wasn't watching Headline News for the latest, I kept busy taking care of two toddlers. I didn't cry...til it was over and he was safely headed home.

Most moving. I’m 69 and I’m tearing up. You express yourself quite well (for a Canuck). I look forward to reading your work every day. Keep it coming. And, make no mistake, we ARE in a war. For the ideals of Western civilization. I’m a fan of Marco Rubio to begin with but see if you can find the video of his speech in Athens a few weeks back, with the Parthenon in the background. I’m sure multiple others were involved in developing that speech but he was totally invested in it as only a true believer can be. I think you’ll agree.

Thank you for this story from your heart and soul. Your evolution from hero teen to compassionate man brought tears to my eyes. My husband and I had fathers in WW2. My dad was in the motor pool in India, making sure equipment was safe. My father in law was in Cairo Egypt in charge of a communication station. My husband's biological father was a navigator on a B-17. He was an engineering student, young husband and was drafted. He was lost over the North Sea and never saw his son, who was born four months later. Our son was in the army and three grandchildren are military, two in the Air Force and one in the Navy. You are fighting a different type of battle and many of us appreciate your words, because you give us words to say. Stay safe, be well keep praying.
Karen

Hi Clay Trainor. Great piece. It’s something else when you realize the gravity of a world event, isn’t it? You know my experiences through our past conversations. I really felt what you wrote because I felt very similar emotions when I wrote to you about what I went through. I was able to hold back the tears reading your piece, but only barely. You’re a good man, Clay Trainor. And I’m happy to be a small part of your world.

That's a moving tribute to your grandpa and everyone else who has carried that same burden. Your emotion, memories, and personal growth strike a chord.

I'm a lifelong civilian, but I read a lot of military fiction. One of the common themes is survivor's guilt. Why does one person live when another dies, and how does the survivor deal with it? I suspect your grandpa might have dealt with some of that.

Both my grandfathers were WW2 veterans. Both survived the war, but neither one spoke much about his service. It seems they had that in common with Captain Trainor. They'd seen enough, or maybe they'd seen too much, and they just wanted to move on with their lives. I never understood it as a kid. I might be starting to understand now.

Faith is central to my worldview, so I think about a veteran's sacrifice in terms of what Christ taught us: "Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends." (John 15:13, ESV) Our grandfathers loved their countries and their families. They loved us so much that they were willing to lay down their lives for us.

How do we respond to that kind of love? I don't know, but I'm sure that it starts with simple gratitude. So thank you, Clay Trainor, for sharing your grandpa's story with us all. Thank you, Captain Trainor, for lying your way into a brutal war to save the free world.

Thank you to all veterans everywhere and anywhere.

My father died on the way home from work at Ft. Campbell KY, when I was 4 years old. The last memory I have of him is in his flag-draped coffin. He was a Screaming Eagle, a proud member of the 101st Airborne.
My husband is a Viet Nam vet, making sure that, if a pilot needed to eject, his ejection seat worked and did what it was meant to do, save his life.
I have never been in the military, but, believe me, while you all were keeping me free and safe here at home, I was trying my best to serve in my own way. First as a Paramedic for 15 years, and after that, a Law Enforcement officer, patrolling the neighborhoods and trying to keep bad guys away from your families and friends.
It was all I could do.

Emotion. Writers write about everything. Including emotion. Other people's emotion, and their own. Writing about your own emotions and making it a worthwhile read can be scary, what will people think? The willingness to be vulnerable is essential of course but you bring two other things to the table that make it more than just sentimentalism: Honesty and Courage. It's real, it's believable, and it is a worthwhile read, because we get to know you a little better than before.

Well Clay. I feel like I've known you for awhile. This truly is a personal piece and it's very moving. I think your family will feel proud when they read it.
I wish I knew my grandpas like you did. One, when I think back, was always in the background. Maybe he didn't like kids. I don't remember one conversation with him ever. The other was in the service, served in India. We always looked at his photo album from that time in his life. It fascinated us but I didn't really understand it.
I must say, you look a lot like your grandfather in his hockey picture. I could have sworn it was you!
Keep up the good work. You always give a lot of yourself and it shows.

During my own lifetime my parents spoke very little of their past or of their journey through life. I wish I would have been more forthcoming about learning the things they barely spoke about. My father was a service member in the Army. I enlisted in the Navy right out of high school in 1972. That commonality between us never resulted in a conversation about our time in the military. I am forever sorry I missed so much of my own parents’ experiences.

Clay... Oh my... In tears reading this. Your heart truly comes through. I was 22 the first time I visited Omaha Beach in 1976. 3 more times since. What struck me was those boys you speak of were sitting ducks on those beaches. Amazing they were as successful as they were. Partly because German gun emplacements were manned by even younger boys. SO sobering, made an enormous impact. We were kids from Oregon, on a 4 month camping trip through Europe. Sheltered. Naive. Western Civ. and American History classes did none of this justice. 3 months later we were staring into the ovens at Dachau. Incomprehensible that humans could carry out such atrocities. A sad wake-up to the world's potential. In 2007 we were privileged to join a tour with two Band of Brothers vets - Sgt Malarkey and Lt Compton. Two weeks, one busload, vets telling their stories from where they dropped into Normandy to the Eagles Nest their company captured. With a stop at the American cemetery in Luxembourg where Patton is buried. Also there was Don's best friend Skip Muck. We left flowers as he sobbed over Skip's grave. Every stop along the trip people thanked the vets for what they had done - for their villages, their countries, their families. The reward for the sacrifice. We stood in their very foxholes in the forest in Bastogne. Talk about chills. The whole trip a life changing experience. Eternally grateful for it. And grateful for your writing to make sure we don't forget what we fight for. Thank you.

It's interesting (ironic?) that the impact of your trip to France - which reversed, in certain way, the impact that Saving Private Ryan had on you - is the impact that Saving Private Ryan had on me. Subsequent, well-made films and books regarding WWII have built upon that impact.

You are correct that what you are now engaged in is not a marketplace of ideas, but a battlefield - and not as different from that battlefield of old as it would seem at first blush. We have all seen that there are literal shooters on this battlefield. Far fewer, no doubt; and your efforts are geared toward keeping it that way. It's a cold-ish war; and you/we are trying to make it even colder. Absent such efforts, it will boil over. But the public effort comes with risk of exposure.

In short, I'm saying that your grandfather defended the integrity of Western Civilization against an awful disfigurement; and you are carrying that same baton now. Godspeed to you.

I'm also Canadian. My grandfather and two of his brothers fought in WW1. Both his brothers were killed there, and my grandfather was the only one who made it back. He suffered most of his life from the aftereffects of mustard gas exposure. Some years ago, I downloaded the service records of my grandfather and his brothers from the government archives. His mother was paid a death benefit by the government for his two dead brothers. The amount was $50. Can you imagine, $50 each for the life of two young men? Never forget.

My grandfathers were in World War Two. Both of them. Different services same theater. They didn’t meet until may parents did. They never spoke to one another about it, that I’m aware, but had a weird easiness around each other. Thinking back, maybe a couple of looks, knowing smiles in the few times I’ve seen them together. My father was in Vietnam. He doesn’t speak about his service either. A few times, while drinking, he’ll let a few tidbits slip. How unfair it was to have kids killing kids in a war for what? Something to that effect. I joined the Coast Guard, and was on leave in Boston visiting family when the towers fell. I volunteered for two deployments and was denied both times. By the time I had the seniority and experience to deploy, I had a family, so I did not. I have friends and cousins that did, and seeing how they are today I’m glad I didn’t. I’m able to be more present for my family in a way that I don’t think I would have if I had been there. War veterans are special people, who carry a burden you or I could not imagine. They faced near certain death, had people die all around them, lived in a constant fight or flight in theater. Then they come back and are told “thank you for your service” and to act normal.

The important thing is to recognize their sacrifice, their continued sacrifice, and give them respect. What you’re doing with your writing is honoring them the best way you can. Not everyone can carry the burden of war, but we can revere those who do.
J

Hello Clay.

That was a beautiful piece of writing. You will always be Clay to me.

I would like to tell all veterans not just a big thank you, but also that Clay is someone worth dying for.

Clay, this piece hit hard. I also grew up playing video games. Mine was Command and Conquer Red Alert. Also WW2 based. Both my grandparents fought in the war. I asked my mom’s dad once about his wounds from the war. I was 5 and asked, “Did you die??” I learned a lot asking that question. If you die in a game you just start over. I thought that’s what my granddad did.

Thinking about WWII always reminds me that the things that caused that war still exist. They’re here today, and everyone lobs names at each other believing they’re on the right side of the war. I hope we never face what our grandparents did, but I believe in being ready. Thank you for honoring Glyn Trainor. I know he’d be proud of you.

Hi Clay Trainor, So nice to meet you in your entirety! Your emails, burger king and dave smith, and now this piece, show a man who has come into his own. Its truly been a pleasure watching this happen in real time. This piece is a wonderful tribute to your grandfather. I'm not crying, you're crying. Okay,okay, I'm crying to.

Got your 6, Sue

Clay — thank you for this. I read it straight through, and it brought back things I haven’t thought about in years. In 1987 I was 19, in the Army, sent to Europe for REFORGER. I visited a concentration camp. I stood at the East/West border and watched the guards turn their faces away when anyone raised a camera, and I’ve wondered ever since whether they were ashamed of what they were guarding. At 19 I didn’t really understand what I was doing there. When you wrote that those boys are all kids to you now, I thought of that 19-year-old in uniform, because that’s how he looks to me today. The shrapnel your grandfather carried until he died at 72, the friend’s grave he kept going back to France for — that will stay with me the way Saving Private Ryan has. Glyn Trainor is a name worth carrying.

It’s nice to meet you Mr. Trainor aka Clay! Your Grandfather sounds like a larger than life man to you. I can see why you have always looked up to him and in many ways you are following in his footsteps.

While you may not be carrying a gun or heavy artillery or even watching people die all around you, you are still in a war. You carry words and ideas and you encourage others to stay in the fight. The same fight your grandfather fought! The fight for freedom and from tyranny!

You are your Grandfathers grandson and I know without a doubt, he’s very proud of you! Keep up the good fight! You have a small army behind you!

Keep your tender heart. That's where the best writing comes from.

Thank you for sharing this. It hit me much harder than I expected, and really made me think about Duty, Honor and Sacrifice - Three things that seem to get overlooked far too often these days.

This one is gonna sit with me for a while.

Again, thank you for sharing.
-Brian