We Remember & Honor Them All
Donald Behrn Roberts has no children or grandchildren to remember him. But I will hold him in my heart, and so, I hope, will you.
We recently observed Memorial Day in the U.S. Sometimes it’s hard for us to truly relate to the idea of a set-aside day, especially if we don’t know anyone who has given that sacrifice we memorialize. I hope you enjoyed a cookout and good times with family and friends. I did. But we also talked about some men who gave their lives in our defense. If you don’t have anyone to remember and honor, think on these men.
In the middle of the last century, young Americans went to war in Europe to stop the fascist anti-semite Hitler from conquering the continent and enslaving all to his perverse nationalist socialism.
My grandfather, Clair Shadwell Smith, signed up as soon as he could. Inspired by hearing Churchill’s speeches over the radio at seventeen, he had almost hitchhiked to Canada to join the British cause. He would always say that Winston Churchill saved the free world. Clair, who would later be known as “Papaw” to me and his many other loving descendants, joined up and was soon sent to England to serve in the U.S. Army Air Corps.
Don Roberts (top, second from right) was Papaw’s best friend in the service. They laughed together, worked together, and made plans to visit each other’s homes. Don was from New York, and Clair was from West Virginia.
The two friends were in what would become the 8th Air Force, stationed in Deenethorpe, England. Clair was a ball-turret gunner on the B-17, “Hells Angels Out of Chute 13.” Don was a top turret gunner and engineer on the B-17, “Omar the Dentmaker.” Clair Smith lived to see VE Day and came home to build a family in the West Virginia hills.
Don was killed in action over Pas de Calais, France on March 26, 1944.
Don was never married, and had no children to carry on his name. He was twenty-two years old.
Clair Smith’s first son is my father, whom he named Don Smith. (Top left with the funny stare for this picture.) Surviving the war, this is the family Clair and his bride, Myrtle, created.
My dad, an honored combat veteran himself, also named his oldest son Don.
So Don’s first name carries on, and his memory is alive.
Clair gave his last name, Smith, to many, many descendants who love and honor him. He gave it to my dad and my dad gave it to me. A gift I treasure. Clair was a poet and a painter and a wonderful man. Here is a poem he wrote about a B-17 mission over Germany.
Below is just (most of) the Don Smith (bottom left) branch of the Clair Smith line.
I think of Don Roberts and the countless others like him, who gave the “last full measure of devotion,” and laid down their lives for a noble cause. He gave up so much to serve, and I will never forget him.
Nor will I forget John Jay Janoska, Jr. He was my father’s friend in the 9th Infantry Division during the Vietnam War. While dad served as platoon leader, he never lost a man. But the man who took his place, his own platoon sergeant and friend, JJ, was killed in combat soon after Dad was transferred. Yesterday my father wept as he spoke of him, and others of his brothers in arms who fell.
President Lincoln said at Gettysburg that the honored dead don’t need to be dedicated, but we all do. The living.
We remember Donald Behrn Roberts. We remember John Jay Janoska, Jr. We honor them. We honor them all.
O Judge of the nations, we remember before you with grateful hearts the men and women of our country who in the day of decision ventured much for the liberties we now enjoy. Grant that we may not rest until all the people of this land share the benefits of true freedom and gladly accept its disciplines. This we ask through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. (Book of Common Prayer ’19)
Blessings,
Sam Smith
