His legacy was found in an old, brown paper bag stuck in the back of an empty storage bin.
Howard Suer, owner of the Van Nuys storage company, took it into his office and scattered its contents across his desk, and then he sat down hard in his swivel chair.
“This isn’t right,” he said to himself. “This just isn’t right.”
Scattered across his desk was a Purple Heart, a Silver Star, and a Good Conduct Medal awarded to a Cpl. Myron H. Berger. With it was a Western Union telegram addressed to Edith Berger in Springfield, Illinois.
“The Secretary of the War desires me to express his deep regret that your husband, Corporal Myron Berger, was killed in action on Eighth October 1945 in France. Letter follows.”
Of all the papers in the bag, this one was the most tattered, like it had been read a hundred times. It was torn and stained with what, tears? Certainly.
Suer unfolded another letter to Edith from her husband’s commanding officer saying he was serving as a scout for his rifle squad when he was hit by sniper fire in the village of Moivron, France.
“Although dying and although the enemy continued to fire on him, he warned his squad of the snipers, located their well-hidden position, and continued to fire on the enemy until death overcame him.
“By his gallant action, he created a diversion that enabled his squad to outflank and eliminated the snipers without further loss.”
At age 36, Myron Berger was buried with honors in U.S. Military Cemetery No. 1, Andilly, France – grave 203, row 9, plot 1.
Also inside the bag was an insurance policy and a news clipping of Berger’s death in his hometown newspaper, filing in some of the details of his life.
He was employed by the Springfield street department before entering the service on April 8, 1942. His last furlough back to see Edith had been in September 1943, two full years before he was killed. They had been married nine years.
Edith collected $42 a month for life on her husband’s life insurance policy. How long she lived, we don’t know.
What we do know from the last letter in the bag is that she waited five years to remarry, and had at least one son – the child Berger never had a chance to give her because he was off fighting a war and dying for his country.
In the end, a forgotten man.
And now, it’s time to remember Myron Berger because in so many ways he is the face of Memorial Day. The unsung hero. The grunt on the ground who went face-to-face with the enemy and paid the ultimate price so we could live free and have these barbecues and parades – this three-day weekend.
Without him and all our combat vets who died protecting us, none of this would be possible. Imagine if we had lost that war.
So, thank you, Myron Berger, for our freedom. Sometimes we get so wrapped up in our own lives that we forget to remember.
Not today.
A postscript. After the column I wrote on Berger in 1986 ran on wire services across the country, a niece living in Springfield contacted Suer and his medals and papers were sent back to his family where they belonged.
Dennis McCarthy’s column runs on Friday. He can be reached at dmccarthynews@gmail.com.
