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Please Don't Miss and
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Tuesday, 24 June 2008
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TAPS -- Lt. John D. Werntz, USAAF
Contributed by Russ Vaughn It is my sad duty to inform you that we have lost one of our Old War Dogs, one of our precious few remaining from WWII, John D. Werntz, and, as a retired professor from Columbia University, one of the most erudite and academically accomplished Dogs in this motley pack. So typical of the warriors from his time, John downplayed the importance of his role in that great conflict. Yet like so many of those who came home to an America finally at peace, minimizing their contributions as they put this horrible war behind them, John had actually been an important participant, a key warrior in a huge, historical, military event, the invasion of France and the conquering of Nazi Germany. and you will find him saying that he did nothing more than help a jumpmaster push a stick of paratroopers out the door over Normandy, failing to mention that while he was performing that supposedly ho-hum task, deadly German flak was bursting within and all around that invading fleet of C-47’s that carried the paratroopers and towed the glider troops who would disrupt German operations and allow the main American forces to break out of the beach heads. Many of the planes around John and his crew went down, but of that he makes no mention. I don’t know the actual attrition figures for John’s unit, the 72d Troop Carrier Squadron of the 434th Group of the 9th United States Army Air Force, but they were substantial in that initial airborne assault and in the subsequent airborne operations that kept our allied invasion forces pressing ever eastward until Germany capitulated. John wrote of his pilots wrestling with the controls of the aircraft trying to maintain formation over hot drop zones but minimized his essential contributions as aircraft navigator to that effort. It matters not your crew position in an aircraft being shot at by antiaircraft guns, the right round kills all of you. But true to his character, the only casualties John ever wrote about on this site were the infantry soldiers that his planes ferried back to hospitals in England. And even in those writings, John was humbled by the sacrifice of those ground soldiers and, as always, downplayed the role he and his fellow airman played in saving the lives of so many of those grievously wounded infantrymen by lifting them out of the combat zone and whisking them back to the intensive care they needed in military hospitals in England. In writing of these medical evacuations, John did cite some members of his unit as heroes: the air evacuation nurses who provided the emergency in-flight medical care those wounded soldiers needed to sustain them until they arrived in England. Somehow or another, I just have this image in my mind of a selfless, young LT. Werntz, back there in the cargo compartment of a C-47, doing everything in his power to support those nurses and their missions of mercy in every way he possibly could. I never met John Werntz and yet I have a tightened throat and tears backing up in my eyes as I write this because this man with whom I exchanged witty, sometimes biting, emails represented to me a personal contact into the Greatest Generation that I am losing in my own family, as all but one has succumbed in that final battle. I wish that I could have met John at one very special place: the World War II Memorial in Washington, D.C. Somehow I think that John could have made a visit there something very special with his wit and insights. I would urge anyone reading this, if you have a WWII veteran in your family, take them to see their memorial. You will never regret the sacrifice of time and money. Just do it! Your reward will be the joy in their faces in seeing the tribute their country has belatedly bestowed upon them. My greatest regret at this very moment is that I did not write this when John could still read it so that he would know how much this veteran of a later war admired his “Aw shucks, I didn’t do anything,” humility. I know, all too well, that is the mark of a real warrior. Russ Vaughn *** Bill Faith adds: I won't pretend to have Russ's gift with words but I was also saddened to learn yesterday of the death of a true friend. A brief excerpt from the email I received from his niece: Just a short note to tell you that Old War Dog John Werntz a/k/a "John "72nd TCS" Werntz" died yesterday, June 22, 2008. In circumstances typical to elderly individuals, John took a fall, fracturing his pelvis. He was taken to hospital in Scranton, Pa. where they operated on him, inserting a pin in his hip. Shortly after, he was transferred to a facility in Wilkes Barre, Pa. As he was suffering from both a heart condition and emphysema, the slippery slope was also very short. I did manage to spend the afternoon with him on Friday and, although he had been in some pain, he was deep in a drug induced sleep when I left. The staff informed his best friends, [Mr. and Mrs. ""], that he died in peace. Read the bio John sent me when he consented to join become a charter member of the Old War Dogs pack . There's also a slightly different version of his bio on . *** Promoted from the comments:
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Contributed by Russ Vaughn on June 24, 2008 at 12:13 AM in | Comments Posted by: I join with Russ and Bill (and all others who knew John) with feelings of loss and sadness intermingled with an appreciation for having had the opportunity to know and correspond with this cleverest of the Old War Dogs. I say cleverest, because words were both John's playground and palette. Playground, because he wrote with a certain whimsey and lilted phrase that made me think back to both an older yet simpler time. He made reading his prose both interesting and fun. Yet, I know he took language very seriously (he corrected my writing more than a few times.) That is why I also say words were his palette. He was an artist that chose each word carefully because it was always the exact word needed to color the particular sentiment he intended. Given his military and academic credentials, John was not only humble but totally approachable and giving. Having lost my father (WWII Navy vet) almost 20 years ago, there were many time that John's solid values, wisdom and encouragement served as a surrogate. I won't go further, as John would not appreciate my attempts to deify him in this comment section. As Russ indicated, John did not see himself as heroic and he eschewed the notion of the being part of a "Greatest Generation." Let me simply end by saying "Thank you John for all of the gifts you gave to me and everyone. I will miss you." Posted by: | Jun 24, 2008 10:01:42 AM Posted by: My condolences to all of you. Posted by: | Jun 24, 2008 10:34:49 PM Posted by: J WILLIAM DAVIS Earl Johnson in New Jersey and I may be the only survivors of the 72nd TCS,434th TCG. Through Bill Faith, John Werntz and I started an exchange in May 2006 that was interrupted by my health problems in July. I don't recall knowing him in 1943-1945, but some of the memories that he doubted were and still are clear in my mind. 1944: Posted by: J WILLIAM DAVIS | Jul 4, 2008 3:25:00 PM Posted by: OWB Sharing good stories helps us through our grief. John's passing has left a serious hole in my heart with only memories to fill that emptiness. It was a distinct pleasure to spend time in John's presence. He was exactly as you who did not meet him would expect. The sharp wit. The gentle strength. And always a supportive friend. In life we each have moments which stay with us not only for being special but defining. In this case, it was a moment which might be described as a capping moment. It was a culmination of many memories, a summary of life experiences, emblematic of all things important in my life. Memorial Day week-end 2007 many of us who have never witnessed it got together for the Run for the Wall. After sharing a cab ride from our hotel, John, Mr & Mrs Gene Harrison and I took up our position at the DC end of Memorial Bridge for the Run. What a day! The weather was miserably hot. It was loud. We all grumbled. We paced. We fussed. But, we would not budge until every last motorcycle had gone by. Conditions were not ideal for us, but we enjoyed it. We shared stories. We ate. We watched out for each other. We each walked around a bit without supervision. I laughed. It was a wonderful day to share with very special people. The sadness is mixed with joy in remembering this and other stories shared with John. He was a buddy, a substitute father, and so much more. Some day I will no longer see an item and try to send it to John. Some day... Posted by: OWB | Aug 19, 2008 9:54:38 PM |