[Congressional Record (Bound Edition), Volume 149 (2003), Part 11]
[Extensions of Remarks]
[Pages 15365-15366]
[From the U.S. Government Publishing Office, www.gpo.gov]




                     REMEMBERING J. ROY MARTIN, JR.

                                 ______
                                 

                            HON. JOE WILSON

                           of south carolina

                    in the house of representatives

                        Wednesday, June 18, 2003

  Mr. WILSON of South Carolina. Mr. Speaker, I want to express my 
deepest sympathies for the family of J. Roy Martin who passed away May 
30, 2003.
  Roy was a true South Carolinian and will be greatly missed. He was 
also a great American, a man who served valiantly in World War II. Roy 
was a jumpmaster during the invasion of Normandy and fought in most 
major battle areas in Europe.
  I believe the memory of Roy is best told by his son, Allen, who gave 
the following speech at his father's funeral:

       First, my thanks to each of you for coming and being a part 
     of my dad's life. And thanks for your comfort and support to 
     my dad and my family during these last difficult months. The 
     caretakers at Anderson Hospital and Hospice of the Upstate 
     will have our lasting gratitude.
       America has lost a brave and courageous patriot. My family 
     has lost a constant and steadfast anchor. Many of you have 
     lost a trusted and faithful friend.
       Dad was an original member of 101st Airborne Division of 
     the U.S. Army, better known as the Screaming Eagles. He 
     volunteered for extended active duty and volunteered to be a 
     paratrooper. Parachuting was in its infancy. Dad participated 
     in the first divisional drops and the first night drops, all 
     in preparation for the invasion of Normandy.
       His division was shipped to Liverpool, England on a voyage 
     that took 43 days, part of which was on the HMS Strathnauer 
     where 5,800 men were packed on a ship equipped to hold 300.
       The months preceding June 6, 1944 were spent in England 
     preparing for the invasion. Dad and the 101st left England at 
     10:30 PM June 5th, the night before D-Day. Each man was 
     required to take six boxes of food, a gas mask, ammunition, a 
     folding stock, a 30 caliber carbine, knives, a main 
     parachute, and a reserve parachute. Each man was so heavy he 
     could not get in the plane without assistance and once in the 
     plane could not stand up without assistance. It was my 
     privilege a few years ago to help Dad write his memoirs for 
     the New Orleans D-Day reunion and the following are some 
     excerpts.
       Dad writes, ``After we were in the plane the motor was 
     started and I, as a jumpmaster, was standing in the door. As 
     we taxied up the taxi-way, I saw Gen, Eisenhower, with 
     several of his staff, in an open touring car parked by the 
     runway as we were moving out. It was very encouraging to see 
     that he placed this much interest in our unit and our 
     mission. I learned later that his air advisor, Marshal Lee 
     Mallory, had advised him, that he should not use airborne 
     troops in this operation, that they would suffer 85 percent 
     casualties. It must have been a great burden on Gen. 
     Eisenhower to see us take off and know that most of us would 
     not come back.
       Dad was the fifth of hundreds of planes to take off. He 
     writes, ``I was able to look and see that navigation lights 
     of the many planes behind us. There were so many lights it 
     looked like a mammoth Christmas tree.
       Dad was always a navigator and as he stood in the door, his 
     confidence was shaken because he could see that his plane was 
     off course, as they came over the French Coast. The planes 
     altitude lowered and they could see the Germans running their 
     guns and begin firing with planes crashing, burning and 
     exploding in the fights behind him.
       He jumped knowing that he would not land in his designated 
     zone. It seemed to him that almost as soon as his chute 
     opened he was plunging through the tops of an apple orchard. 
     He gathered his men and approached a French farmhouse. Dad 
     had taken French in Boys High School eight years earlier. 
     Much to his surprise he was able to recall enough French to 
     convince the farmer to lead his men in the direction of their 
     mission, which were the gun emplacements that dominated Utah 
     Beach. They soon came upon several battalion and regimental 
     officers who were more senior to Dad. Dad then went to the 
     back of the line. After only another mile or so, the Germans 
     opened fire with machine guns and the French farmer and most 
     of his men were killed. Dad was able to crawl to a depression 
     and meet the first of so many dead Americans that he saw in 
     the war. One, a lieutenant and a recent graduate of West 
     Point named Ebberly, had been shot through the head in almost 
     the exact same position he had previously occupied. He made 
     his way through dead bodies to a house on the side of the 
     road completely filled with wounded and dead soldiers. He 
     proceeded across the bridge and saw the ditches on both sides 
     filled with dead soldiers. From this point, to the point 
     where he reached the gun emplacements, he has no memory--not 
     even the tremendous bombardments that preceded the beach 
     landings. It was one of many lapses of memory that I can only 
     conclude was his way of dealing with the horror.
       The week after D-Day was another lapse in memory but Dad 
     writes, ``. . . D-Day was only the beginning. My battalion, 
     my division and I participated in every single major battle 
     in the European theater. We were in the airborne operation in 
     Holland and in Bastogne during the time it was surrendered. 
     And during it all I was never wounded and never missed a day 
     of combat. I have always wondered why this happened since it 
     was almost unique and virtually all of my friends were either 
     killed or wounded . . .''
       He continues, ``We were in France for approximately six 
     weeks. I wore the same clothes the entire time we were 
     there.'' Upon return to England, I pulled off my clothes, ``. 
     . . and when I did so, the floor around me turned white by 
     the skin I had shed into the clothes. And I took my pants and 
     literally stood them up in the corner of the room.''
       Dad ends his memoirs with this, ``After the initial days 
     following D-Day, I never really expected to live through the 
     war.'' ``. . . there was no such thing as a safe job in a 
     parachute unit.'' ``The following September when we jumped in 
     Holland, I was a Junior Captain in the battalion, three days 
     later I was the only Captain left. And the entire battalion 
     staff except the battalion commander had been killed or 
     wounded. And the battalion commander was then the regimental 
     commander because most of the regimental staff, including the 
     regimental commander, had been killed or wounded. The only 
     reasons that I am alive today are simply a matter of pure 
     luck and the grace of God.''
       Throughout my life dad spoke very little about WWII. It is 
     my conclusion that it was too horrific for him to recall. He 
     was also a man who showed almost no emotion. Prior to the 
     last few days, the only time I ever saw him cry, and then 
     only briefly, was when my

[[Page 15366]]

     older brother Jim was killed. I believe that Dad left most of 
     his emotions on the European continent and as a result of his 
     experience there became an individual totally dedicated to 
     the substantive. He did not tolerate small talk, he had 
     little time for recreation, and he was totally involved in 
     the serious not the sublime. He believed it was an honor and 
     a duty to serve his country and that he owed his country, his 
     country did not owe him.
       He was amazingly devoted to his family, not only to Mom and 
     to us, but also to his brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, and 
     cousins, which was a challenge in the enormous family to 
     which he belonged. Where his father was one of eleven 
     children and his mother was one of 21 children. And he made 
     no distinctions between laws, stepchildren, and adoption. 
     Once you entered his family, he was totally devoted to you 
     and would never let you down.
       Dad felt the greatest obligation of a parent was to raise 
     independent children. He never rewarded us for good grades 
     nor punished us for bad grades. He always told us that the 
     grades we made affected us not him. He instilled in us a 
     desire to strive for the best.
       He believed in the worth of every individual. He taught us 
     that we were no better or no worse than anyone else and that 
     everyone was put on this earth for a purpose. He was very 
     much a Baptist believing that one's faith walk was an 
     individual journey, not a corporate journey. He instructed us 
     from and early age that as much as he might wish he could get 
     us to heaven, it was a decision for me to make and no one 
     could make it for me. He was a stern disciplinarian. He 
     definitely believed in the axiom, `spare the rod, spoil the 
     child,' except when it came to Louis.
       He was a great believer in free markets and encouraged 
     people to go into business for themselves. Just as his father 
     before him had encouraged his siblings to form their own 
     business, so too did Dad try to help his siblings in starting 
     their own businesses. He, like our President, was a 
     compassionate conservative.
       He believed everyone should contribute to his or her 
     community. He taught Sunday school for years, played in the 
     Anderson Symphony Orchestra, was a life-long member of the 
     Rotary Club, and served for many years in the Chamber of 
     Commerce and the Anderson Memorial Hospital Board.
       My father was blunt and plainly spoken. He had not time for 
     small talk. He battled depression for years. But he was a 
     great man. I never stopped learning from him and God should 
     be prepared for some pointed questions from this guy.
       I am sure Dad and the Lord are having some serious 
     conversations. A few days ago one of the nurses commented on 
     what a good job the Lord had done with him. He quickly 
     corrected her by saying the Lord and me--don't give the Lord 
     all the credit.
       Dad was often difficult and he knew it. He gave Mom a 
     plaque of appreciation on their 55th anniversary to honor her 
     for putting up with him for 55 years. He was resentful for 
     what his cancer had done to him. Many of you, in recent 
     months, tried unsuccessfully to see him. Your attempts were 
     appreciated even when unsuccessful.
        We thank each one of you here for being a part of his 
     incredible life. We hope you will find guidance in so many of 
     the things he stood for and we hope you will go from this 
     place loving your family and committed to making this world a 
     better place for future generations.

                          ____________________