Sam Chirco, the Crystal Lake Club man responsible for placing a Veteran’s monument in front of the community’s clubhouse, is himself a World War II veteran three times wounded in action.
After Chirco went into the Army, his sister Frances began keeping a scrapbook of her brother. But for decades the scrapbook remained out of sight. It was only in the early 1990s, as he was preparing to move to Avon Park from Detroit, did the scrapbook once again surface.
It contains photos, copies of orders, several GI newspapers, two German military shoulders patches, even a five-franc note.
But the documents that tell Chirco’s story in a barebones, no nonsense manner are the seven telegrams found in the scrapbook.
The first one he sent to his folks March 20, 1943 exactly one week after entering the Army as a draftee. He had been sent to Fort Custer in Battle Creek Michigan, and was about to leave for basic training. “But they gave a week off”.
Here’s the telegram: “Will arrive at Michigan Central 10:15 Detroit time. Love Sam.”
The second, also sent to his folks, was dated Aug 5, 1943, after he had finished his basic training and had been shipped to Camp Shelby, Mississippi, awaiting assignment overseas. It read, “Expecting furlough. Wire 30 dollars.”
He was eventually sent to the war in Europe and joined the 15th infantry Regiment of the Third Division in combat at Acerno, Italy.
He fought without a scratch in several major battles and took part in the liberation of Rome. His unit was then sent to fight in northern France. That’s when the third telegram arrived at his family’s door. Dated 1944, Oct. 16: “ Regret to inform you your son Private Sam J Chirco was slightly wounded in action twenty-nine September in France. You will be advised as reports of conditions are received.
Chirco recalled he had been hit, “an hour or so after going into combat. Got wounded from tank fire, probably shrapnel. I still got the scar through my eyebrow. I went back to the First Aid and they sent me back to the hospital.” He later returned to duty.
Starting out as an infantryman, Chirco was transferred to the wire section, stringing telephone wires between battalion headquarters and the front line companies. That’s when the fourth telegram arrived, dated 1945 Feb 16: “ Regret to inform you your son Technician Fifth Grade Sam J. Chirco was slightly wounded in action twenty- six January in France…”
Here’s what happened: “I got it in my right knee,” Chirco explained. “We were in an attack. I was behind a farmhouse. The Germans lobbed mortars you can’t hear them coming in; you just hear the explosion. They landed in the farm yard. Some shrapnel hit me in the knee.”
He was later sent back into the action.
Telegram, dated 1945 April 2: “the Secretary of War desires me to express his deep regret that your son Tec/5 Chirco Sam J was seriously injured in Germany 17 March 45…”
“We were advancing and I got hit by a huge shell from a gun they had on railroad cars. They’d pull the guns out, fire them and take them back into hide…. It was real noisy. You could hear it coming fro what seemed 10 minutes. Actually it was only a few seconds. I got under a Jeep; the shell came in and fragment hit me in the ankle.”
A military postcard addressed to Chirco’s mother read, “I am pleased to inform you that on 15 May 1945 your son T/5 Sam J Chirco has recovered. Returned to duty…”
On July 14 1945, Sam sent yet another telegram to his family: “Dear Folks, am in Paris having a swell time. Wish all of you could be here. All my love. …”
And the final telegram dated 1945 Aug. 17 from New York: “Arrived safely. Expect to see you soon…”
Chirco said that while in Europe he got to the point he didn’t think he was coming back. “I’d been wounded three times, been in constant combat. Sooner or later, you’re gonna get it. It was really rugged.”
Chirco knows war. He went through it and he feels for the others who have gone and still are going through it. He knows of that “terrible, awful time of war, where there’s nothing but starving and sweating and working and being scared all the time.”
That’s why there’s a Veterans Monument on the lawn at Crystal Lake Club
Article By Larry Levey of the News-Sun Correspondent
| Service Awards: |
2 Presidents Unit Citations From F.D.R |
3 Purple Hearts |
1 Good Conduct Medal |
6 European African Medals |
1 Combat Infantry Men Badges |
1 Victory WWII Medal |
1 Bronze Star Medal |
1 American Medal |
1 French Fourragere Awarded by General Charles De Gaulle |
Simple Hero by Natalie Slack
“War is hell,” he said once. And I got the feeling he wasn’t ready to talk about it. And I understand that. I don’t think that, having lived through hell, one wants to relive it. But recently, due to my husband’s interest in history and persistence in asking questions and patiently and respectfully waiting for answers, my Grandpa’s stories are being told.
I know a little about his life pre-World War II. He was born the son of immigrants. His birth certificate says “Salvador” and then, across that first name, “Sam.” I know that for years people have wondered if, even assumed that, his name was Samuel. “Just Sam,” he says. And it has always fit him. I know that he was drafted as an infantryman, a soldier who loved his country and who fought hard because it was his duty. And I know that he was wounded many times and that he kept going back.
I have learned that he was at the famed battle of Cassino. I know that the fighting there was intense. I cannot fathom what it is like to have bombs exploding around you. “Did you keep in touch with any of the guys you served with?” my husband asked. “No. You didn’t,” Sam said. “You didn’t get close to anyone. You never knew if they’d be there the next day.” And all of the Hollywood illusions of a lasting brotherhood were destroyed. I realized that you must go through hell alone. Seldom does anyone want to take your side. And if they do, often only one of you makes it through.
I know that after the war he developed a successful business and worked to put the war behind him. He was a member of Michigan’s Italian American Chamber of Commerce. I know that he was married once and had two children. And then later married again, to my grandmother, Lucille. And I know that he took her children to be his own, even though they lived all across the country and had families of their own. And I know that in my eyes, he has always been a real grandfather. I don’t really remember my life before he married my grandmother and I am ever so proud to be considered his kin.
My Grandpa Sam is a simple hero. He would not call himself Hero at all. He did a duty. He served his country. He was wounded. He fought back. And he has moved on, seldom speaking of those days. But when he does, when he sits back in a creaky wooden rocking chair and pulls his pant leg up, showing the shrapnel wounds on his shin, you are instantly caught up in his stories. He is a living piece of history. And he deserves honor, his story respect. He is a hero to me, to my family, to us all.
May this simple heroes’s stories continue to be told. May his dedication and sacrifice inspire each of us to work hard towards our goals, to hold dearly the people and ideals that we love. War may be hell, but he is a conqueror, and his story deeply inspires us to live fully and love our country. May his stories long be told.
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