I hope everyone had a lovely Memorial Day weekend. Perhaps you celebrated by eating some barbecue, heading to the community pool, working in your yard or visiting the gravesite of someone who gave up their life while serving in the U.S. military which, as you know, is the purpose of Memorial Day.
Like most people, I take the men and women who serve in the military for granted. My grandfather served in both world wars, my dad during World War II and my brother in Vietnam, which makes me proud. Some saw battle, others were in support positions. None of them ever really talked much about their experiences, but to be honest, I never really asked. But I started thinking about the kind of person who would volunteer for the military when my sister-in-law Mary’s mother passed away.
Grace Steck, who died in April at the age of 99, was one of the ‘baddest asses’ I didn’t even know I knew. Let me explain. Mary has been married to my brother for nearly 50 years, so I’ve been with Mrs. Steck at family functions for years. She was always the nice woman who greeted me warmly but spent time talking to my mom or hanging with her grandchildren. I knew she had been in the service during World War II but never thought much about it until she went on an Honor Flight, a flight supported by nonprofits to take veterans to Washington, D.C., to visit memorials built in their honor.
Mrs. Steck finished nursing school and wanted to join the Army. Her dad said no unless war broke out. She enlisted the day after Pearl Harbor. After completing boot camp and officers’ training in Alabama, she was shipped overseas to start her five-year tour in London with stints in Ireland, France and Germany. Mrs. Steck arrived on the beaches of Normandy the day after the invasion to treat the wounded. She landed in water that was still bloody, and her job as a surgical nurse was to try and save as many soldiers as possible. Mrs. Steck was in her 20s. She could have stayed home and no one would have thought anything about it. She didn’t have to go to war.
She met her husband during officers’ training camp and when they both found themselves in France, they decided to marry. They had to get permission from their general, Dwight Eisenhower. Thankfully, he said yes. They were married, came back to St. Louis, had nine children and she put all of her uniforms, pictures and memorabilia from the war in her foot locker in the basement.
Mrs. Steck’s story is one for the movies, but to her and her family, it was no big deal. It was just what one woman did to serve her country. I picture her landing on the beach in Normandy and am reminded of a quote from the Canadian poet Atticus: “She was powerful not because she wasn’t scared, but because she went on so strongly despite the fear.” Thank you Grandpa, Dad, John, and Mr. and Mrs. Steck for your service. I am humbled by your bravery.
Contact Patty at phannum@townandstyle.com.