One Small Town's Ultimate Sacrifice

By Troy M. Olson

Bedford sent its citizen-soldiers to the Second World War just like my hometown did and many towns like it did. But what sets Bedford apart from them all is the sheer magnitude of their community pain.

Last week I finished The Bedford Boys by Alex Kershaw while on my 5th (6th?) plane over the course of eight days. While we ran into just about every conceivable airport issue on our family vacation, I couldn't help but come to the conclusion that my oldest walked away with a core memory. It was here that he discovered his love for swimming pools.

Alex Kershaw's The Bedford Boys

For myself, when I wasn't trying to finish Masters of the Air, a WWII miniseries featuring the likes of Austin Butler (still not done yet!), I was finishing this beautiful book originally published in 2001. 

2001 was just a few short years after Saving Private Ryan and was the release year for Band of Brothers, essential viewing for any American patriot, veteran, or WWII enthusiast. And, as a member of all three of those groups, I have unpacked just about everything I can get my hands on. So, why am I doing a quasi-book review 25 years later? I think precisely because The Bedford Boys made me look at it in a new way. 

Bedford, VA is the site of the National D-Day Memorial, and is, in part, home to one of the true stories that inspired Saving Private Ryan. I now know why Spielberg chose to fictionalize his account of D-Day and its aftermath. You have to. You have to reach for "story truth" because the total truth is just too painful. Bedford had a population of just under 4,000 people in the 1940 census. I grew up in a town larger than that but not much larger. Everyone knows everyone, or knows someone who knows everyone. Especially if you stick around for a few decades, and most people do. Because these are great places to live and raise a family. Bedford sent its citizen-soldiers to the Second World War just like my hometown did and many towns like it did. But what sets Bedford apart from them all is the sheer magnitude of their community pain. 

In the morning hours of June 6, 1944, in a matter of minutes, Bedford lost nineteen of its sons on Omaha Beach. This was the highest proportional loss for D-Day in the nation. Much of the town would not put together the magnitude of the loss. It took weeks, months, for the information to come into full view for the town's people and the many, many families who were affected. Some of the families had more than one son fighting. In one gut-wrenching account, Kershaw relates the story of a young man who lost his twin brother shortly after refusing to shake his hand (because he did not want to be fatalistic), saying he'd shake his hand after their mission was complete. Fifty years later, when visiting Normandy in his third act of life, he would reach out and shake his brother's hand up on the road where he said they would. 

In all, nineteen of the thirty-four Virginia National Guard soldiers from Bedford - who were in Company A, 116th Infantry Regiment, 29th Infantry Division - were killed on D-Day, and four more died during the rest of the Normandy campaign, two of them from other 116th Infantry Regiment companies. 

The pain of this loss never has left Bedford, only the passage of time and living memory could for those who directly endured it. I think this story resonated so much for me because my hometown lost three (and the overall county area even more) in the Global War on Terror conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan. And those losses were excruciating for the town. The pain sticks around because remembering and honoring the war dead means it doesn't actually leave you. It's the most difficult for family, close friends, and perhaps worst of all for the tremendous survivor's guilt that befalls the living veterans. As I was reading the story of this town and its lost sons, I connected so much of what I have observed myself in others these past few decades. This is especially relevant because WWII is "the good war." And my era and Vietnam were "the complicated ones." 

For Bedford, VA, even the good war meant mostly pain. I hope in the years to come to pay a visit to the National D-Day Memorial in Bedford, VA. 

Troy M. Olson is an Army Veteran, lawyer by training, and co-author of 'The Emerging Populist Majority' available at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and Target. He is the Sergeant-at-Arms of the New York Young Republican Club and co-founder of its Veterans Caucus. He has appeared on CNN, CBS, and OAN. He lives in New York City with his wife and two children, and is the 3rd Vice Commander ("Americanism" pillar) of the first new American Legion Post in the city in years, Post 917. You can follow him on X/Twitter and Substack at @TroyMOlson