Dad wasn't trying to spoil my enjoyment of the movie we were watching on our old black-and-white television way back in the 1960s.

He was just speaking from experience.

While I was reacting to the Hollywood explosions and celluloid-sanitized shooting in the way any 10-year-old might, Dad must have been remembering the reality of his time in the South Pacific in the waning months of World War II.

Dad (and my mother) spent most of the war building bombers in California. When production began to wind down, he found himself shipping out.

Dad manned a .30-calibre water-cooled machine gun. At 23, one of the oldest men in his outfit, and with a last name of Crosby, he soon became "Uncle Bing" to his comrades.

The Japanese offered little resistance to the initial invasion of Okinawa -- that was to come later. Dad was supposed to be in the seventh wave of the invasion, but the enemy led commanders to speed up the schedule. My father remembers seeing wheelbarrow loads of turkeys going overboard -- the men for whom they were intended would be eating C-rations ashore.

They may have let the Americans land unopposed, but the defenders made them pay for every inch of land later.

I remember hearing many of the stories many times over the years, but Dad's tales of combat ended a few weeks later, as the troops worked their way inland.

As a machine gunner, he was a prime target. A mortar shell found his foxhole one morning, a hand grenade later that day.

Dad still carries tiny pieces of metal from that grenade in his body. He survived the war in one piece, but other scars are harder to see.

What's remarkable about my dad's stories are that they are so unremarkable.

Many of the students in my class heard similar stories from their fathers at home. One classmate's father flew B-24s against the refineries at Ploesti. Others served in different capacities, but they did their duty.

First-hand stories of World War II are becoming more precious. Monday's obituary page was another reminder, when I read the obituary of the kindly Charles Edward "Charlie" Wright. Many area Boy Scouts benefited from his hard work and leadership on behalf of their organization. It should have been no surprise to me to read that he was awarded the Bronze Star and many other medals for his service in the European Theater.

Unfortunately, there will be no shortage of war stories for future generations. Korea, Vietnam, the Gulf War and the war in Iraq are generating stories of sacrifice for years to come.

Yes, war isn't pretty. But freedom is beautiful, and those who gave their all to preserve it deserve our deepest gratitude.