Veteran honored for role in liberating France
Fredericktown resident and World War II veteran Jacob Martincic is pinned with the French Legion of Honor medal by Bernard Marie, who was a child living in Northern France when Martincic landed on Omaha Beach on D-Day. Martincic’s daughter, Kathleen, looks on.
Jacob Martincic can add his French Legion of Honor medal to the many he earned as an infantryman in World War II, including his Purple Heart. Martincic earned the title of “Chevalier” or knight. The medal is given by France to express gratitude toward those who risked their lives to liberate the country.
FREDERICKTOWN – While he admits interaction between the United States and France runs hot and cold, Bernard Marie sees the countries as being in a lengthy, enduring relationship.
“We’ve been married for 235 years,” said the dual French-American citizen. “We sometimes need a marriage counselor, but we’ve never been at war.”
Marie made the trip from his home in Roanoke, Va., to Fredericktown Saturday, where he presented a medal to Jacob Martincic, honoring the World War II veteran’s naming of “Chevalier” in the Embassy of France’s Legion of Honor, an order of distinction first established by Napoleon Bonaparte in May 1802. Veterans must have fought in one of the four main campaigns of the liberation of France to be honored.
On June 6, 1944, Martincic, now 92, was a 21-year-old in the thick of his first day of combat. He, along with 34,250 other U.S. soldiers, stormed Omaha Beach, helping break Hitler’s hold on France. As he fought the rough waves, fog and constant firing by the Germans, Martincic was shot in the left leg. He continued to fight, blowing up barbed wire through the day and into the night so the soldiers could get off the beach.
On D-Day, Marie was 5 years old, hiding in the basement of his Normandy village home.
He has never forgotten the soldiers who gave him and his family back their freedom.
“My main goal for 35 years I’ve been in the U.S. is to never forget what these people did,” Marie said Saturday to Martincic’s family, friends and fellow veterans. “If they had not been successful, today I would talk Russian instead of bad English.”
Every year, French citizens pause to remember those who lost their lives in battle and thank veterans for their role in the nation’s liberation. When Marie came to the United States in 1979, he was shocked to find no similar remembrance. Marie fears that, with veterans now in their late 80s and 90s, they will one day be forgotten.
According to the Veteran’s Administration, there are only 855,070 veterans remaining of the 16 million who served in World War II.
“When people ask why (I care), I say ‘Europe.’ We are liberated,” said Marie. “My goal is to make a lot of noise in order that we don’t forget them.”
Martincic was tight-lipped about his service. Growing up, his daughter, Kathleen, said he rarely spoke of his war experience.
“Dad was just ‘Dad’ to me, but to all these other guys, he was a real war hero, an infantry soldier who was in the heat of the battle the entire time he was in France and Germany,” Kathleen said.
Kathleen and her sisters, Virginia, Carol and Donna, didn’t even see their father’s many service medals until after their mother died. Kathleen has since combed through history books and contacted local veteran’s organizations, putting her father’s story together.
After being shot on D-Day, Martincic was sent to England to recover. A doctor there decided it would cause more damage to remove it, so the bullet remains lodged in Martincic’s leg. Just three weeks later, he rejoined his outfit to march to Paris. On the way, he was shot again, this time through the chest. Taken to a field hospital, he was pronounced “a goner,” and was being carried away until calling out from a body bag. He continued to fight until the end of the war.
Martincic came home to Strabane and worked at Universal-Cyclops. In 1950, he married neighbor Virginia Boles. They traveled the United States, visiting every state but Hawaii. In addition to his daughters, he has three grandchildren and a great-grandchild.
Martincic first met Marie in October at a Covenant Life Fellowship service honoring veterans.
Kathleen had applied for the Legion of Honor for her father at the urging of local veterans who knew Martincic’s service history. Marie expedited the process, getting Martincic’s medal to him in seven months when it usually takes at least a year.
After Marie placed the medal, he took both of Martincic’s hands in his. Martincic looked up and smiled, clapping along with his audience.
“It was very important for me to give (the medal) myself, on behalf of my government, to show we have not forgotten him,” Marie said. “Congratulations, my friend, my hero.”