Never Know How You’ll Go
I’m guessing he never saw this coming. Silver Star-decorated Normandy, Bulge combat veteran, 87, killed while raking leaves. Salem News:
SALEM — Longtime Salem resident Philias Verrette Sr. survived three years in World War II, took part in every major battle in Europe, from D-Day to the Battle of the Bulge, and won the Silver Star, the third-highest military award for valor.
But it was a motor vehicle on Monday that ended up killing the 87-year-old.
“He died just like Patton,” said Verrette’s brother-in-law, Frank Swasey, 79, of Salem, of the World War II general, George S. Patton, who died in a car crash in Germany shortly after the war ended in Europe.
Salem police said Verrette was struck by a 2003 Toyota Camry in front of his Mason Street home at 4:25 p.m. on Monday.
Police Lt. Scott Englehardt said the driver of the car, Apostolos Bakolas, 50, of Woburn, told police he did not see Verrette, as the sun’s glare obscured his view when he turned left onto Mason Street.
…
Verrette’s many stories from the war are evidenced by the dozens of wartime pictures, as well as picture frames showing off his array of medals and ribbons, the highest being the Silver Star.
Verrette won that award “for gallantry in action” following a fierce firefight involving an important crossroads the Germans were looking to recapture.
The fight happened in Germany in February 1945, when Verrette and another soldier saw the enemy quickly approaching. The soldier with Verrette took off running and was never seen again.
Verrette, instead, ran for his machine gun, as German bullets followed his trail.
“Refusing to surrender when his men were surrounded, he gallantly continued his firing until a battalion moved up and drove the enemy back,” Verrette’s son, Paul, said as he read from the framed letter accompanying the Silver Star.
In addition to those actions, Verrette was part of the second wave of troops during the invasion of Normandy; he escaped from a building just seconds after it was blown up by the Germans; he was injured in the Crossing of the Rhine in 1945; he was sent to Paris and then London for a week to recover, then went back into the front lines. Bandaged up, Verrette took part in Battle of the Bulge, waist-deep in snow.
Paul and his older brother, Philias Jr., and sister, Phyllis, heard the wartime stories growing up but never in graphic detail. Verrette also had another daughter, Carol Thidault of Beverly.
But it wasn’t always war stories. They also watched and learned of their father’s work ethic.
Verrette worked full time until he was 75 years old, and he typically held down two jobs.
…
Verrette’s family said working was what their father was doing at the time of the accident: He was raking the leaves when he was struck by the car.
“He always made sure we had everything,” said Philias Jr., 50, a Salem Police Department patrolman. “He made sure all the bills were all paid, there was food on the table. They didn’t make that much money back then.”
“He was very loving, and he taught me to be loving with my kids,” Phyllis said.
Ask not for whom the beer truck rolls. It rolls for thee.
We’re all going, one way or another. It’s how you live that matters. A parting salute to a great American, who served his country bravely in war, worked hard to provide for his family in peace, and died, at the age of 87, cleaning up his yard. That sounds like a good life, despite its tragic end at this late age.
(Re WWII service: sounds like some wires were crossed at some point in the retelling. The Rhine-crossing battles of February-April 1945 followed the Bulge, December ‘44-January ‘45.)
Topics: America, courage, history
Posted by Jules Crittenden at 9:41 am Comments (2) on Wednesday, October 28, 2009
2 Responses to “Never Know How You’ll Go”
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October 28th, 2009 at 11:02 am
More crossed wires: “he escaped from a building just seconds after it was blown up by the Germans;”
If it was “after”, then it doesn’t really matter if it was seconds, minutes, hours, or even days. Unless, of course, it was seconds “before” the building was blown up.
Nevertheless, an unfortunate death after an exemplary life.
October 28th, 2009 at 3:58 pm
Knowing my father and uncles, veterans of that war, I’m willing to bet Mr. Verrette would rather go that way than end up incontinent and witless in a nursing home (as a couple of my uncles did).