 So, some of them never make it, make it work, you know. Dear veterans, dear friends, it is an honor and a pleasure to be with you today to contribute to Mr. John Gomerach, who fought for the freedom of France and the freedom of Europe during World War II. And I'm very grateful to be here today to be able to organize this ceremony. I have flown from New York City for this ceremony and this is the least I could do considering everything you have done for our country. And as Bertrand said, you are going to receive the highest medal, the highest award of the French Republic. This award was created more than 220 years ago by Ampere Napoleon and survived the death of Napoleon, the establishment of the Republic is still the most prestigious award in the French Republic and one of the award which is known worldwide, the French Legion of Honor. Mr. Gomerach, you wear at the very front lines of the war, sometimes acting as a scout, advancing ahead of the units to probe for enemy activities, sometimes wielding a weapon in direct combat. You have received many medals for your service and your bravery, such as the silver stars for guaranteed action, the purple hearts and the combat infantry badge, but you have never received the Legion of Honor. This is why I'm here today. Today it is France's turn to salute you. Mr. Gomerach, France is eternally grateful for what you and your fellow soldiers did for our country. Long live France, long live the USA, and long live the alliance between our two countries. Thank you very much. What you probably didn't realize was the results of your efforts helped decide the fate of a country and its people. It is so noble to have the country of France recognize those efforts and to thank you for them. You never talked much about the war while I was growing up, yet I always hold an incredible pride inside, knowing that my dad fought in World War II. There were times I wanted to tell the world what my dad did. Every time I was at a parade and saw an American flag go by, I would tear up thinking of you and what you did. I was always so incredibly proud of you. You have always been silent, strong, and steadfast, a man who truly said what he meant and meant what he said. Growing up, me and my three siblings all had so much respect for you, and we still do, of course. You will always be our hero, and it's wonderful to see you recognized as one today. What to say about my dad? First, congratulations, dad, on this very well-deserved honor. Thank you to Tina and Eric for bringing this honor to my father. Appreciate your efforts. My dad is strong, yet he's a very humble man. He is generous to others, yet very frugal with himself. He values education and hard work and would tell me, make something of yourself. These words have ran through my mind time and time again throughout my life. His love for my mother, his children, and his family. His sense of integrity and responsibility are at his very core. I have always been very proud of my father, and now I have another reason to be proud of him. I love you, dad, and am so very proud to be your daughter. Congratulations. Okay, we are all so proud of you, Pa, but one of the proudest people is not here with us right now, but he is watching my brother Eric, and he wanted to say a few words about you, so I'm going to try to do my best. I wanted to say a few words about Pa, someone I have been very close to my entire life, and one of the finest embodiments of what it means to be true to your moral compass and values, especially in the most trying times. The kind of man who fought on the front lines of some of the hardest battles of the largest war in history, and then went on to live an entirely new life afterwards, scarcely mentioning it at all. The kind of man who has only the highest respect from fellow Army veterans, especially if asked about his silver star. But Pa never put his medals on display. Instead, he kept them in a small cardboard box in the middle drawer of his dresser. When I was little, as long as I'd behaved, he would retrieve them and lay them on the bed. Each summer I would spend hours admiring them and paging through the third division book. Studying the photos and imagining what it would have been like to be there with him. Looking at page after page of bullet riddled buildings in France, he would nod and tell me that yes, he was there. Then laugh a little before adding that he was too busy fighting Germans to have been in any photos. When I would ask to hear another Army story, he would often remind me that war is hell. But hearing his stories as a boy, it still seemed like an adventure to me anyway. I moved to France exactly 75 years after he was here as part of the Army of Liberation. In September 1944, John Gomarach had just finished running through a minefield on the beaches of southern France and was fighting his way northward. And in September 2019, I suddenly found myself noticing bullet holes in the sides of buildings while on the way to the grocery store. The French government has intentionally left them as witness to the brutality of the fighting and of the heavy burden that he and his men endured. There is usually a plaque nearby that notes, Allied Liberation Bombardment. And I wonder to myself if I'm retracing his actual steps. It is thanks to him that my walk to the store is even possible in a free France. When I visited the Cathedral in Strasbourg, there was a plaque honoring the men of the U.S. Army that fought and died in the Liberation. Paul was wounded there, and thanks to him, the Christmas market was peaceful and families strolled happily. Thanks to him and his men, the horrors of Nazi occupation came to an end. Suddenly the photos from the Army book felt real, too real, and Paul was right, none of it was an adventure that he'd asked for. Instead, if you ask him how he feels about the war, he will simply say that he was a combatual soldier and he had a job to do. He is proud of the time that he helped silence an enemy machine gun, but is equally proud of the time he was able to spare the lives of two enemy. It seems impossible to have dealt with it all at such a young age, and I wonder how few men could have done the same with such honor. It is not simply that he fought in World War II, but that he did so while retaining a sense of humanity and dignity for life that I admire most. When I tell my French friends and colleagues that my grandpa is receiving the Legion of Honor, they can barely believe it. They ask me if I'm sure I'm not mistaken, but after I explain, they tell me to extend to him their deepest gratitude. Here in France, everyone knows that the Legion of Honor is the highest one can receive, and everyone immediately agrees that John Romero is fully deserving of it. There is a museum in the center of Paris that I pass often, sitting high above the banks of the Seine River, dedicated to the Legion of Honor and its recipients, including many of Napoleon's best soldiers. It is a true honor to know that my grandfather is now officially one of them. He's here in spirit and in technology.