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Saturday, June 6, 2020

On the anniversary of D-Day, memories of the Greatest Generation

“Today, December 7, 1941, is a day that will live in infamy.” – President Franklin Delano Roosevelt.

Those were the words that John Joseph Hague heard over the radio that Sunday afternoon, after the man known as Jack went to St. Joseph’s Church in Jersey City for Mass with his young wife that he called Helen and his 1-year-old son known as Jackie.

Later that day, Jack Hague went to P.S. 23 in Jersey City and with hundreds of others motivated by FDR’s address to the country, enlisted in the United States Army.

Jack didn’t have to enlist, because he was a married man with a young child. But he did anyway, much to the chagrin to his beautiful little Polish wife.

“I can’t say home, honey,” Jack said to Helen or Helaine or Helene or Helcha, whatever name she went by in her life. “If I stay home, others will look at me like there’s something wrong with me. I’ll be half a man. I can’t do that. I have to go and defend my country.”

So Jack enlisted and a day later he was gone. He spent a few weeks in training in Fort Benning in Georgia and was soon shipped off to ports of call all over Europe.

And on June 6, 1944, PFC John J. Hague was with his military comrades hitting the beaches of Normandy in France. Jack was among the fifth wave of soldiers to reach the beaches in Normandy, along with famous people like Baseball Hall of Famers Yogi Berra and Joe “Ducky” Medwick.


PFC John J. Hague, near the Eiffel Tower in 1945


No one knows the fear that Jack faced on that fateful day 76 years ago today. He wasn’t permitted to share his stories with his children, although he did relay his stories to his devoted wife.

Jack somehow survived the D-Day invasion at Normandy, the most important day in United States military history.

In fact, he spent the next nine months in France and Belgium, doing his best to help America’s cause against the enemy forces. He had to have killed enemy soldiers, but that was never discussed.

In Feburary of 1945, Jack was with 15 of his platoon in a fox hole in Belgium. Disaster soon struck. A bomb hit the fox hole, killing everyone in the fox hole except PFC Hague.

Jack suffered serious wounds, including shrapnel wounds and a broken back. But he somehow survived the bombing. For three weeks, he tried and tried to dig his way to the top of the hole with the hope of someone rescuing him. He had no use of his legs, so everything was done with his upper body. He survived by eating the rations of his fallen comrades. A man of incredible faith as an Irish Catholic, he prayed and prayed that he somehow make it home to Helen and Jackie.

Meanwhile, at home in Jersey City, young Helen Hague, all of 25 years old at the time, received a telegram from the United States Army that PFC John J. Hague was MIA (missing in action) and presumed KIA (killed in action) in Belgium.

Helen relayed the message to Jack’s seven sisters and two brothers the contents of the telegram. Soon after, the sisters organized a memorial Mass for their brother at St. Joseph’s, but Helen wouldn’t go. She insisted that her husband was not dead. Needless to say, that approach didn’t go over well with the Hague sisters, but Helen had that weird sixth, maybe seventh sense. It was eerie the way Helen knew what was going on.

Sure enough, after 21 days covered in dirt and debris, PFC Hague somehow made it to the top of the hole and was rescued. He was airlifted to a hospital in Paris to repair his back and wounds.

Incredibly, almost amazingly, while in the hospital with the broken back and in a body cast, the U.S. Military Hospital in Paris was bombed and PFC Hague was thrown from his hospital bed, causing the cast to break and he had to be refitted for his body cast. That’s how Jack received the second of his Purple Hearts, the initial wounds suffered in Belgium and then the hospital bombing.

After recovering in another Paris hospital, PFC Hague was deemed fit for further duty, but luckily, VE Day took place in Europe. Jack’s prayers from that destroyed fox hole were answered. He was sent home to Helen and Jackie, who was almost five at the time and had to be reintroduced to his Daddy.

Jack never fully recovered from the back injuries. He tried to go back to his job at General Motors in Edison, but he couldn’t stand the physicality of the job, so he had to step away. He took the Civil Service test and got a job working in the automotive division of the Jersey City Public Works, eventually becoming a supervisor, then assistant superintendent of Public Works until his passing to cancer on Dec. 31, 1971.

But after he came home safely from Europe, Jack and Helen had two more children, daughter Jayne and son James, namely me.

So on this anniversary of the D-Day Invasion, a day that changed the course of history in our great country, I remember that brave soldier who overcame so much and made it back home.

And now, nearly 50 years after his untimely death at age 54, I am that soldier’s living legacy. And I live every single day of my now 59 years on the planet trying to be the man that Jack Hague was. He still lives on in my heart and I still miss him terribly. I was gypped out of having a long time with my father, but I did have 10 years of memories.


And if he didn’t survive the D-Day Invasion on Normandy Beach some 76 years ago today, I wouldn’t be able to enjoy doing what I do, writing and sharing stories.

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