A name popped up the other day while my husband, Chuck, and I were talking about France: Ned Bradley.

Ned had been one of Chuck’s college French professors, along with his wife, Paula. They had made a deep impression on him as a young man, and we had been able to visit them in France when we were young newlyweds. Every other summer, they would rent a place somewhere in France, and spend the summer just soaking it all in.

“Very cool,” we thought. And so they were. More than you can imagine.

Ned, you see, had served in the Second World War. The story Chuck always recounts happened during the Normandy invasion on D-DAY. Ned piloted one of those famous landing crafts, the ones we all saw in the movie, “Saving Private Ryan.” The ones that were shot at mercilessly from the concrete machine gun emplacements high above the beaches where the troops were trying desperately, and tragically, to land.

We’re not sure if he started out piloting the boat or took over when the other pilot was killed (which they usually were during that invasion). We do know he ended up driving the thing, trip after trip. Moving perilously from the troop ship to the shore. Trying to get as close as possible so the men who were jumping into the frigid waters could get to land without drowning due to the weight of their packs. (Also, an all too common outcome.)

My husband pointed out that many of the pilots were unable to continue with the work. They froze or panicked and were unable to take their craft back to the beach to drop off the men; to face death again and again. But not Ned.

He commented, “There were enough Neds to make the landing succeed.”

Enough Neds.

As I read the news about Ukraine and Putin’s increased push to annex parts of a sovereign state I wonder if there are enough Neds. I wonder what I would have done in the same position. Would I have said, “Enough, I can’t make one more trip.”

I have no idea, frankly, and , obviously, it’s not about me. It’s about the people of Ukraine. The people put into situations largely beyond their control. The one thing in their control is their response to the external circumstances. To a degree.

My husband also related, as we were talking about the invasion, a time in his life when he was watching me bandage our son's finger. He told me he had suddenly become ice cold from head to toe, had started sweating profusely, and had almost fainted. He had to go lie down as I continued to change the bandage. It was the context, not the sight of a wound.

And so it is for all of us. Sometimes we find we can be brave as all get out, -- beyond all training or reason. And sometimes we can’t.

I am proud of Ned Bradley. Of his courage all those years ago under terrible circumstances. But I  am also sad for the men who balked. Who said, “I just can’t. I don’t know why, I just can’t.” Sorry for what they had to deal with as they watched others take over, and possibly get killed that day.

As I tried to verify my husband’s story about Ned, I came across all the generals and soldiers who had received medals, but no Ned. Not even a mention of his service. I’m sure it’s there somewhere, I’m not a very good researcher on the internet. But it made me realize that most of the bravery that happens during a war goes unheralded, is largely forgotten. So it is in life.

Thus, this essay.

We need to keep the truly heroic acts, the unselfish giving that costs the person dearly, alive through our stories, our art, and, most importantly, in our hearts and memories.

My husband admired Ned Bradley for his service and heroism in the war, but it was his wife he still speaks of with affection and gratitude.

As his college French professor, she would stay after class to help him understand the intricacies of French grammar. She never was condescending or critical or short tempered. She taught him about teaching as well as French, and he has never forgotten her kindness and dedication to service of another sort.

So, my hope today is that there are enough Neds in Ukraine to carry on the fight against this evil war, and that there will be enough Paulas to carry on the fight for good educators in our schools and for the health of our nation.

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