In Honor & Memory of WWII Hero Lieutenant Anthony Francis Gilroy

     This December marks the fifth anniversary of the publishing of The Sanctity of Love and War, and while it's been a journey from the time I began writing it over seven years ago until today, its beginnings go back even further than the day I decided to create the story.  As anyone who's read the novel and the accompanying Author's Notes knows, the book's roots are steeped in memories of my grandparents who lived during the time period of Sanctity -- the 1940's, and specifically, the years of and directly following World War II.  In those same Author's Notes, I shared that one of the characters from the book was created to honor the heroic actions of a real-life individual who fought in that war.  That man, Anthony Francis "Frank" Gilroy, for whom the character of Mark Linton was based, passed away last month.  The following is in memory of him.
     Frank Gilroy's mother was my paternal grandmother's older sister.  Frank was born on June 17, 1919 in Dunmore, Pennsylvania.  When his family fell on hard times following a work-related accident his father suffered, Frank moved with his parents and sister to New York.  While living in Brooklyn, he decided to join the Navy to do his part to win the war that had just begun for America.  That war would be known to history as the Second World War.  Frank was just one of the many brave men and women who served and fought to preserve freedom in a time when fascists and dictators strove to dominate the world.
     Frank's service in the United States Naval Reserve would eventually lead him to the rank of Lieutenant, Junior Grade, as a Navy pilot.  He would go on to receive both the Navy Cross and the Distinguished Flying Cross during naval engagements that occurred in the Pacific theater of the war.  As part of the Navy Dive Bombing Squadron attached to the aircraft carrier, U.S.S. Hancock, Frank would distinguish himself on two separate occasions in October of 1944.  He was a member of that humble generation who did their part, but did so without the expectation of or need for acknowledgement or accolades.
     The period that surrounded WWII was a time when patriotism was seen in the quiet, daily actions and deeds of the citizenry.  From willing participation in nightly blackouts and rationings, Americans gladly sacrificed for the greater good of the country.  In small and large ways, Americans did their best to put their needs after those of the boys who put their lives on the line everyday so that the likes of Hitler, Mussolini, and Tojo would not succeed in their heinous efforts to rule the world.
     On the home front, boastful patriotism was not the norm, nor was the idea of loving one's country more than a neighbor a consideration or thought that was commonly held.  Everyone did his or her part to ensure freedom would overcome fascist, dictatorial aims that attempted to thwart the liberties we were promised as part of our citizenship.  With this in mind, it wasn't surprising that up to his dying day, Frank downplayed his role in helping win the war.  When I reached out to him to let him know that I was basing a character from my book on him, in true humble fashion, he minimized the importance of his individual accomplishments.  For a man to put his life at risk on a daily basis for the benefit of his country in the face of fear and danger while shrugging off any acknowledgement of the risk or courage it must have taken to do so is a true measure of a hero.
     Seventy-six years after the surprise attack on Pearl Harbor that dragged us into the war in which Frank would serve, the world needs heroes like him just as much today as it did during that tumultuously frightening time in our history.  We still face the threats of those who wish to crush the freedoms Frank and others like him risked so much to preserve. We owe it to him and all those who served in that war our acknowledgment of their sacrifices and strive to pay the respect that is their proper due.  In the words of the poet A.E. Housman: 'Sleep on, sleep sound', Frank.  You and all those who served in WWII and who have now passed deserve the peace of the eternal rest which is now yours.