(Longer than a snippet from the frontline)
COVID-19: In Memoriam to my dad
My dad was a disabled WWII veteran in the US Army Air Corps. Rarely did he discuss the war, which is common for many who served.
Carl Dorio was born in Pennsylvania, and grew up on a farm in New Jersey flying a crop-dusting plane as part of daily chores. When WWII started his career was already established, yet in 1943 at the age of 41, he was recruited into the Air Corps. Apparently he had special skills.
Stationed in the South Pacific, he carried out many bombing missions against enemy targets. Once he mentioned a crew member on his B-29 was killed by shrapnel.
Initially, he told us his injury occurred when a jeep “flipped” on him after a mission, but the real story was shrapnel hit him in the leg and doctors wanted to amputate. He was a marathon runner, and would not allow it, and instead got rehabilitation. With the war ending, he was discharged and remained in Tokyo with the American Red Cross, where my Canadian mom worked. Voila, the Dorio boys!
For the first 15 years of my life, he walked with a limp. I would go with him to the VA Hospital in Long Beach for rehab. One day after we hiked down the Grand Canyon, I noticed his limp was gone and mentioned it to him. He replied “It took 20 years, but I’m grateful they saved my leg.”
(He was later proud I coincidentally performed part of my resident training at that hospital helping other veterans.)
We celebrate Memorial Day today, and pay tribute to those who served. Some made the ultimate sacrifice, while others suffered, sometimes for 20 years. All military members who don a uniform in defense of our country, knowing they may not come home, are truly courageous.
Even if they don’t tell you about their service, there is always a story behind it.
Gene Uzawa Dorio, M.D.
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