[Congressional Record Volume 144, Number 77 (Monday, June 15, 1998)]
[Senate]
[Pages S6341-S6342]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]




                         ADDITIONAL STATEMENTS

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                      TRIBUTE TO DR. ERNEST TOMASI

 Mr. LEAHY. Mr. President, the real treasure of our state of 
Vermont is the people who make up our special state. One whom I have 
known all my life is Dr. Ernest Tomasi of Montpelier. It seems from the 
time I was a youngster, we knew the Tomasis, and partly because like 
Dr. Tomasi, my mother was an Italian American who knew almost every 
Italian American family in the area.
  Dr. Tomasi was a true hero of WWII, but like so many, rarely ever 
spoke about what he did. In one rare instance, he was interviewed for 
The Times Argus, and I ask that the article be printed in the Record.
  I also want to applaud his dedication to the people of Montpelier. 
Many, many of those from my hometown received medical help and, when 
many could not pay for it, they received it as a gift from Dr. Tomasi. 
He was a hero abroad, but he has also always been a hero at home.
  The article follows:

                  [From the Times Argus, May 30, 1998]

                   Montpelier Vet Recalls His Service

                          (By David W. Smith)

       Montpelier.-- Dr. Ernest Tomasi likes to tell the story of 
     the bravest act he witnessed on the European fields of battle 
     during World War II.
       It was shortly after the invasion of the French coastline 
     at Normandy by American troops in June of 1944, and Tomasi 
     had been temporarily assigned to a medical unit with the 3rd 
     Battalion, 116th Regiment of the 29th Infantry Division.
       Hunkered down amongst inland hedgerows--enormous earthen 
     barriers topped

[[Page S6342]]

     with brush and trees--Tomasi watched a young sergeant named 
     Black gather together several soldiers who spoke German and 
     French, and climb up on a hedgerow waving Red Cross flags.
       The men were shouting in three languages that they were a 
     medical team and were trying to bring aid to both American 
     and German soldiers.
       Apparently they were successful, and managed to bring 
     wounded from both sides back for medical attention.
       ``Sgt. Black, after the war, married Shirley Temple,'' 
     Tomasi laughed.
       Tomasi has a lot of stories from the years he served as a 
     surgeon with the 2nd Battalion of the 116th, his regular 
     unit. From the time they sat foot on the deadly beaches of 
     Normandy, all the way to Berlin, Tomasi traveled with the 
     soldiers, offering what medical attention he could.
       Tomasi recalled helping a cow give birth, and the time he 
     delivered a human baby girl along the shores of the Elbe 
     river while nearby the crippled city of Berlin finally caved 
     in from the relentless attack of the Russian army.
       Six years later, while working in his clinic on Barre 
     Street in Montpelier, Tomasi received a letter from the 
     German woman he helped, and a picture of that young girl.
       ``Our unit liberated the first town in Germany,'' Tomasi 
     said with pride, although he couldn't recall the name of the 
     town. ``We were all sort of optimistic then.''
       Tomasi, who was born and raised in Montpelier, attended 
     medical school at the University of Vermont, graduating in 
     1942.
       After a year of internship in Waterbury, Conn., he flew 
     through a quick four weeks of field officer's training, and 
     was soon shipped off to England to prepare for the massive 
     American D-Day invasion.
       While in England, Lt. Tomasi trained for the assault along 
     a beach called Slapton Sands, where many Americans got their 
     first taste of war.
       ``They warned us that German torpedo boats . . . were 
     there. We practiced there anyway,'' said Tomasi. ``Two weeks 
     later, the 4th Battalion practiced there and lost 200 men.''
       Not long afterward, Tomasi and his company crossed the 
     English channel aboard the ocean liner Thomas Jefferson, and 
     were soon deposited from a landing craft into the cold sea 
     water to half-walk, half-swim into shore. The 29th was one of 
     the first divisions of soldiers to attack the coast.
       The captain of Tomasi's company was immediately wounded, 
     and had to be sent back to the ship.
       ``I was the only officer there,'' Tomasi recalled. ``We 
     landed where we shouldn't have landed. There was a burning 
     building so the Germans couldn't see us, so we all got in 
     fine.''
       Only when he tried to describe what happened on the beach, 
     did Tomasi run out of words, saying it was impossible to 
     describe it to anyone who had not seen it for themselves.
       ``There were so many people there that were killed,'' he 
     said, ``It was terrible. We had to stay on the beach and take 
     care of the people.''
       Tomasi remembers unique events from the war, preferring not 
     to dwell on the horror: He slipped easily into a story of the 
     time he was out at night riding in a jeep driven by a 
     corporal, searching for a missing sergeant.
       An American tank lurched up behind them, and a gruff voice 
     boomed out.
       ``What the hell are you doing out here, don't you know this 
     is no-man's land?''
       It was the corporal who told Tomasi the man shouting was 
     General George S. Patton, who told them to return to their 
     unit and promised to find the sergeant himself.
       Tomasi remained near Berlin until the end of the war, then 
     returned home to Montpelier, where he set up a practice, 
     raised a family and remained until the present. Tomasi's son, 
     Tim, currently serves on the Montpelier City Council.
       He will probably walk, Tomasi said, with members of the 
     American Legion in the annual downtown Barre Memorial Day 
     Parade at 11 a.m., although Memorial Day activities don't 
     stir up any particular emotions for him.
       ``I just think that it's nice that people take a few 
     minutes to remember,'' he said.

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