On Memorial Day 2009 my thoughts turn to my father, because the focus customarily is on our war dead. I turn the beer stein over in my hand that a superb and grateful potter and 'liberatee' cast for Dad and the officers of his company. Dad got four of the remarkable steins, which he eventually divided one to each of his four children.
The lovely lady on the handle is graceful in her classic pose, more suited to a pedestal than a mere transporter of beer to one's maw. I've always handled this stein with respect. It is sturdy. It bears no blemishes, chips or discolorment. In those days of revelry surrounding the surrender of Hitler and the recovery of freedom, it is understandable that the drinking song, one of them the men in the 90th lustily sang was:
"Come landlord, fill the flowing bowl/ til the cup runs over, come landlord fill the flowing bowl/ til the cup runs over/ for tonight we'll merry merry be/ for tonight we'll merry merry be/ for tonight we'll merry merry b-e-e-e-e!
Tomorrow, we'll be sober."
The campaigns Dad's 90th Infantry Division fought in are noted on the back of the stein.
Dad survived all this action, including the invasion on D-Day. He was decorated for battlefield achievements and was given the Purple Heart. He returned safely to the US along with his three brothers who were in various branches of the service, allowing our grandmother and grandfather in Cedar Falls Iowa to finally remove the service banner hanging in their middle front window, bearing four proud stars: standing for their four sons away in service.
Another memento of my father's WW II service is a heavy brass boar's-head letter opener I have, given to Dad by the wife of Field Marshall Herman Goering as a token of her appreciation at the time of his "gentlemanly" removal of the vast estate when he commanded the Army team that 'liberated' the stolen art treasures, and the grounds in total.
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