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D-Day was last week. That would be the World War II turning-point invasion of Europe. Not the robust brassiere cup size. June 6, 1944, was six years before I was born. I’m on this text message group of dear childhood pals. Most of our fathers served during the war and we exchanged stories last week. I’m a double winner. Both mom and dad wore the uniform. Mom drove a Jeep for Army brass at Aberdeen, Maryland, home of the fabled Proving Grounds. Dad shot and bayoneted people.
My father, Walt Cieplik, served two tours. Right before D-Day, there is a forgotten bloody beach assault. Taking Anzio Beach in January of 1944 led to the Allied conquest of Rome a few months later. D-Day is more famous for its massive statistics, horror and bravery. It’s why, eight decades later, Americans drink beer, barbecue hot dogs and do oft-procrastinated home improvement projects on Memorial Day without thought to much tougher relatives than we who made that ultimate sacrifice of saving the world from Nazi Socialism. I know Nazis are Socialists. It says so on their letterhead.
D-Day’s June 6, 1944, Normandy assault was the largest amphibious landing in military history. From 7,000 ships hailing from eight nations, nearly 200,000 naval personnel were involved. A staggering 113,000 troops stormed the beaches in that first assault, where 10% of the men died. More were wounded. In the chaos, many, without fanfare, were claimed by the sea. By the end of June, nearly a million soldiers landed, along with a staggering 148,000 vehicles and 570,000 tons of supplies.
For those in public school? Our side won World War II. I know. I know. Too icky competitive …
When I was in my early 20s, I was coaching high school basketball at Hart High, riding a motorcycle, sleeping late, playing poker to pay the rent, turning AYSO toddlers into Greek god status via penning inane sports stories at The Mighty Signal and chasing skirts. Sometimes, the skirts had actual women in them. My Dad, the sweet warrior? At that same age, Walt was sleeping on the ground, in winter, in the snow, and hunting the soldiers of Hitler and Mussolini. Often, they shot back. This still breaks my heart. Dad had hearing problems his entire life. An artillery shell exploded near him. Into his 80s, he’d ruefully observe of, “… not being quite right in the head” his entire life. An unseen war wound made him forever and strangely distant.
That campaign was called Operation Shingle and began with the bloody beach landing at Anzio on Jan. 22, 1944. My dad led the charge.
Anzio is a sleepy tourist town today, still surrounded by mountains and the thick Pontine marshes. Back in winter of 1944, in a surprise raid, some 36,000 men stormed the beaches. That attack would grow to 150,000 men. Casualties were epic. The Allies would suffer 7,000 fatalities that first landing, with another 36,000 wounded or MIA. In heavy war gear, many were washed away to sea.
When he was 5, my dad lost his father, Stan Cieplik. Stan was hit by a speeding truck. On his hospital death bed, the grandfather I’d never meet asked his five small children to promise (those old enough to speak) to take their First Communion. Dad survived losing his father, lived through the Depression impoverished on a small farm and survived four years of combat in World War II. Laughing, Pops noted that living with my mother, insanity her constant companion, was the hardest test of all four. I’d have to agree.
At a Christmas Eve dinner with friends years ago, Dad recalled marching across Germany toward war’s end. Hitler and his Nazis were conscripting boys as young as 8, handing them rifles and sending them goose-stepping to the front to die. At that long, festively decorated holiday table, bathed in candlelight, my father recalled the crunch of marching through ice in dawn’s first light. Frozen bodies of dead children were sticking out of the snowbanks. Dad smiled, recalling how beautiful, how angelic and peacefully still the children looked, cheeks all red from the cold.
Mostly, my father never spoke of his war days. He relented more as he aged, once describing Anzio’s hellish landing, the smell of the ocean he never forgot, men screaming in fear, pain and exhaling the final noise we are all doomed to make. Dad never forgot the sound, the ping of bullets flying past. An unknown soldier in front of Dad was hit by an Axis round and claimed by the salt water. My father high-stepped it forward through the surf, firing his M-1 Garand rifle. Dad had the dearest smile, when he let it escape. He chuckled, recalling odd thoughts that swirled through his mind. As my father charged out of the amphibious landing vessel, a fellow infantryman caught a bullet in the arm and dangled in the rope rigging, breaking both legs. Dad guessed his fellow soldier would be taken back to the ship for medical treatment, rehab and hot meals. Dad said, laughing, “And I’m running toward incoming fire and I couldn’t stop thinking what a lucky son-of-a-gun that guy with the broken legs was …”
I don’t know if anyone ever said it, Pops, but, “Thank you,” for taking Anzio Beach. Thank you, dear Dad, for your service.
Memorial Day, a week ago and forgotten, I’m haunted by the words of our sixth president, John Quincy Adams: “I am a warrior, so my son may be a merchant, so his son may be a poet.”
I question President Adams’ conclusion. Despite my father’s sacrifice as civilization-saving warrior, I skipped being merchant and went to directly into dawdling as a not-so-much poet but annoying court jester.
The generation, lined up behind me? Is Adams’ observation a circle, forever incomplete? Does the legacy of modern America’s self-indulgence, loathing, ingratitude, lack of spiritual wisdom, honesty and common sense require karmic payment? Are The Poet’s sons and daughters, in humanity’s endless cycle, doomed to become the next generation of scarred and haunted warriors?
Visit John Boston’s bookstore at johnbostonbooks.com.
Local News
A Boston man is facing charges after he allegedly lunged at a Burger King employee, punched a customer, and then resisted arrest at a nearby MBTA station in East Boston, authorities announced Monday afternoon.
Patrick Donovan, 59, was charged July 1 with one count of assault and battery causing injury on an over 60 or disabled person, assault and battery, disorderly conduct, resisting arrest, assault, and vandalism, Suffolk District Attorney Kevin Hayden’s office said in a press release.
The charges stem from an incident shortly before 10 p.m. on June 30, when Boston police responded to a disturbance call from Burger King at 1 Maverick Square, Hayden’s office said.
A Burger King employee told officers that, after ordering his food and receiving it, Donovan yelled that he no longer wanted it and smacked a napkin holder off the counter. He then allegedly lunged at an employee and grabbed her by the arm, prosecutors said.
Donovan subsequently shoved a customer from behind and allegedly punched him in the face three times while calling him racial slurs, the DA’s office said.
Emergency medical services evaluated the customer for “visible lacerations to the forehead,” but the victim declined additional treatment, authorities said.
Donovan fled the restaurant following the assaults, and officers tracked him to the nearby MBTA Maverick Station, prosecutors said.
“While officers tried to detain Donovan inside the station, he swung at them with a closed fist but did not make contact,” Hayden’s office said, noting that Donovan made racial slurs towards the officers. “Donovan was placed into custody after a brief struggle.”
During his arraignment in the East Boston division of the Boston Municipal Court, Donovan pleaded not guilty and was released on personal recognizance. Court records show he was also ordered to stay away from Maverick Square and Burger King.
He is scheduled to return to court Aug. 7 for a pre-trial hearing, prosecutors said.
Officers obtained security footage of both assaults. Authorities said the incident remains under investigation and could result in further charges.
“Our workers deserve to be safe in their workplaces and our consumers deserve to be safe in their shopping or dining places, without exception,” Hayden said in a statement. “Beyond that, none of our citizens or first responders should be subjected to racial slurs. These appalling words have no place in Suffolk County or anywhere else in our society.”
Attorney information for Donovan was not immediately available Monday afternoon.
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A rideshare driver suspected of assaulting a passenger at Boston Logan International Airport on Friday is scheduled to be arraigned on Monday.
Leonard Bacon, 23, was found in Lowell, where he lives, and taken into custody on Sunday, Massachusetts State Police said. He’s charged with assault and battery with a dangerous weapon causing serious bodily injury.
It wasn’t immediately clear if Bacon, who’s due to face the charge in East Boston District Court, had an attorney who could speak for him.
Police didn’t share more details on what Bacon is accused of doing. They’ve previously said that the rideshare passenger entered Terminal C just before 5:30 a.m. and reported that they had been physically assaulted by their driver prior to being dropped off.
After the passenger got out of the vehicle, the rideshare driver left the scene, according to police, who alerted area law enforcement agencies to look out for the suspect. The victim was taken to a Boston-area hospital with non-life-threatening injuries, police added.
Police are looking for a rideshare driver who was reported to have assaulted a passenger right before drop-off at Boston’s Logan airport.
In a statement, Uber said they’ve checked in with the rider and removed the driver’s access to their rideshare platform.
“We are horrified by this reported violence,” a representative for the company said in a statement, adding, “Our specialized team has been in touch with law enforcement, and we will continue to do whatever we can to support their investigation.”
“She’s more than just a cyclist and an advocate,” Rose Frank, 36, who became friends with Gag in seventh grade, said. “Those were parts of her identity, but she’s such an amazing person in so many other ways, and we want to celebrate all of those ways.”
Gag, who grew up in Roslindale just minutes from the park, was a joyful and energetic child, said Mark Smith, 66, a neighbor who spoke at the event.
“She was the sweetest little girl with a big wide smile,” Smith said. “Whenever you were in her presence, you felt somehow special.”
Smith said Gag’s passion for giving back to her community likely came from her parents, Steve Gag and Laura Gang, longtime Roslindale residents who contributed greatly to developing the neighborhood. Steve Gag helped bring a farmers market to Adams Park, while Laura Gang was involved in the public library.
Gag’s loved ones said she grew up to become a generous person who cared deeply about her family and friends.
“Louisa showed up for people,” Molly Goodkind, 36, a childhood friend of Gag’s said during Sunday’s event. “We’ll never understand how she had time to be everyone’s go-to person.”
Gag, she said, would eagerly volunteer to cat-sit, even though she didn’t like cats. Another friend said she kept a spreadsheet of the birthdays of all the babies she knew.
“She was the person outside of my biological family who, if I needed something, she would be there in an instant,” Goodkind, who has known Gag since they were 2-years-old, said.
Gag’s friends said she was curious and remained open-minded, even though she held firm beliefs.
“Who do you know that was a vegetarian except for when it inconvenienced others? And of course, except for hot dogs, because according to Louisa, you can’t not have a hot dog at a barbecue,” Gag’s friend Danielle Shaked said, drawing laughs from the crowd, including Laura Gang, who dabbed at her eyes with a crumpled tissue.
Gag also found time for many hobbies, and was always trying new ones, her friends said. Beyond loving outdoor activities such as biking and hiking, she was passionate about sustainability and shopped secondhand or sewed her own clothes. She dabbled in photography, painting, and cooking.

Urban planning was one of Gag’s enduring passions, Goodkind said.
“In college, she created her own major,” she said. “I don’t remember exactly what she called it, but it was something like city and people.”
Gag attended college at the University of Rochester and later earned a master’s degree in urban and environmental planning and policy from Tufts University, according to her LinkedIn.
Before joining the city in 2022, Gag worked for LivableStreets Alliance, a Boston-based nonprofit that advocates for increased safety, equity, and affordability. She also interned for Mayor Michelle Wu when Wu was a city councilor.
Wu attended Sunday’s event, but did not speak. Like many other attendees, she held a yellow sunflower, one of Gag’s favorites, as she tearfully listened to the tributes.
While Gag didn’t like being the center of attention, her friends said she would have been grateful for Sunday’s event.
“She would be completely honored to know that she has impacted so many people,” Frank said, her gaze drifting over the people gathered in the park.
Under a small tent nearby, attendees crowded around a folding table, filling out remembrance cards. Dozens of bikes leaned against the park’s fences while more lay scattered in the grass.
Allyson Chiu can be reached at allyson.chiu@globe.com. Follow her on X @_allysonchiu.
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