The soldier proudly stands at Parade Rest in his finest dress uniform. A “Son in Service” flag proudly hangs in the window of the house. The words written on the photo though is what drove this research into the life of the man in the photo though.
“Earl Grodt, Bonetraill, No Dak”
“Killed in Action in Italy”
It is the kind of horrific weapon only a war can produce. The blade is triangular in shape and extends slightly over 9 inches from the hand guard. It is crafted to pierce clothing and leather with ease, and easily penetrate deeper in the man beneath those clothes with minimal friction on the blade. The guard extends around the wooden grip, with raised triangular knobs to focus the pressure of a punch with bone crushing results while protecting the hand. It is a Model 1917 Trench Knife. And despite its horrific capabilities, the men of the American Expeditionary Force (AEF) found it lacking in combat efficiency.
The folks at the Militaria Collector’s Network were gracious enough to support this blog with some free advertising! Please visit them at: http://www.militariacollectors.network/ or on Facebook at: https://www.facebook.com/groups/Milcol/
Much appreciated!
The Good Conduct Medal was named to Robert E. Barnhart and dated 1942, and came on a mounted medal bar. The regulations and history of the medals themselves tell both the story of the medals and when and how the recipient earned the medal. But, who was Robert Barnhart? And if the medals and ribbons a service member receives tells the story of their service, what story does this medal bar tell? The story that follows takes us to the early days of World War II in the Pacific, and a man whose life these events swirled around.
Her name is lost to time, but I find this photo captivating. It was used on a German post card in World War I, but why was she in the uniform? Was it her boyfriend’s, her brother’s, or her husband’s?
The visor on the hat and the saber indicates this is likely an officer’s uniform. The soldier was a valiant man, the ribbon in the second button hole indicates award of the Iron Cross 2nd Class for combat. The non-combat version of that award would have had two black stripes on a white ribbon. Below her left breast is the Iron Cross 1st Class.
It came in a Kodaslide box, mailed to C. B. Eason of Fort Worth, Texas with a postage stamp dated March 26, 1946. Carefully wrapped in yellowed wax paper, it tells of the intertwined lives of two soldiers.
The Things We Leave Behind 