All the men of service age in my family — and one extraordinary woman, my Great Aunt Carol — served in World War II. I was born on August 20, 1944, as Paris was being liberated from the Nazis, and I grew up surrounded by WWII veterans and the stories of their heroics.

Sadly, I don’t remember my father, Master Sergeant Gandolph John Viviano. All I know about him I learned from his Air Force file and letters between him and my Great Aunt Carol.

Eight days before I turned three, my father died of a service-connected disability and was buried with full military honors. My 27-year-old mother became a war widow, and my sister, my brother and I became war orphans, labels applied to us by the Veterans Administration.

Even though I didn’t know my father, I was proud of his service. He was my her

See Full Page