Probably among the youngest to die at Normandy, my father, Roy U. Talhelm, was not quite 18 when he succumbed to his wounds. Like many other young men at that time, he enlisted [with an altered birth certificate!] to serve his country. His company, G/506 of the famous Screaming Eagles, was due to land on Drop Zone D where German soldiers had set a barn ablaze. Being off course most likely extended his life for those few days. Although I have never been able to confirm this, I believe he was mortally wounded in the battle to secure the bridges over the Douve River.

I have no memories of my father as I was a baby when he left for England to prepare for the Normandy Invasion. He saw and held me only once and on that occasion, I cried, so I am told. They were not the last tears shed to be sure, by me or the many other orphans and their families, whose lives were forever changed by the loss of their fathers. It remains a loss that truly does last forever.