My Family's Own American Soldier: My Great Uncle Charlie's Story

My grandfather James Pecoraro, my mother's father, was one of nine children. Grampa had a brother named Charlie who wanted to be a doctor. Back then, in the 1920s, there was no such thing as a student loan. And coming from a poor Italian family, my great grandparents didn't have the money.

So the entire family scraped and sacrificed for the one child. Whatever Charlie's brothers and sisters earned went into the kitty to put Charlie through pre-med and then medical school.

When he graduated, he was drafted into World War II. After basic training, he was sent to a hospital in New Guinea. On his second day, the hospital was blown up and Uncle Charlie was killed in action. All that effort for two days.

Gone but not forgotten. Rest in peace, Uncle Charlie.

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