The Price of Freedom

This Memorial Day is an opportunity to pause and reflect on the great sacrifices made by so many brave men, women, and the families who support them. This blog will always be tied to Memorial Day and remembering the actions of the 71st Infantry Regiment, recognizing that all the men of the 71st were part of a long line of patriots stretching into the past and reaching forward to today. “Thank you for your service” does not express the gratitude I feel deeply enough but I offer it to all our veterans.

From the “Awards” report for the 71st IR I’d like to introduce you to Staff Sergeant Stanley F. Scibek, one of my grandfather’s comrades-in-arms who never came home from France.

Staff Sergeant STANLEY F. SCIBEK, Company I, 71st Infantry, Silver Star (Posthumous), for gallantry in action against the enemy on 13 November 1944. Sergeant Scibek was leading his platoon into the town of Leintrey, France, through a barrage of mortar and artillery fire when machine-gun fire from a concrete pillbox impeded the advance of his scouts. Creeping and crawling warily to the flank of the pillbox, Sergeant Scibek rolled two hand grenades into it, killing its two occupants and putting it out of action. As a result of this courageous deed, the capture of Leintrey was greatly facilitated. As the platoon advanced upon Hill 310, its next objective, his scouts were again stopped by the enemy. Sergeant Scibek crawled forward and tossed another grenade which killed two more Germans and paved the way for his platoon to reach its objective. During this action, Sergeant Scibek was killed by enemy machine-gun and mortar fire. Sergeant Scibek’s courage, aggressiveness and fighting spirit exemplify the finest traditions of our Armed Forces.

Decoration Day
Sleep, comrades, sleep and rest
On this Field of the Grounded Arms,
Where foes no more molest,
Nor sentry’s shot alarms!
Ye have slept on the ground before,
And started to your feet
At the cannon’s sudden roar,
Or the drum’s redoubling beat.
But in this camp of Death
No sound your slumber breaks;
Here is no fevered breath,
No wound that bleeds and aches.
All is repose and peace,
Untrampled lies the sod;
The shouts of battle cease,
It is the Truce of God!
Rest, comrades, rest and sleep!
The thoughts of men shall be
As sentinels to keep
Your rest from danger free.
Your silent tents of green
We deck with fragrant flowers
Yours has the suffering been,
The memory shall be ours.
                              — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Leave a comment