D-Day article 1994
“Through it all, D-Day soldier still counts his blessings.” This article appeared in the Las Vegas Review-Journal on June 9, 1994, written by John L. Smith.
Although he hadn’t traveled far as a young man, Jim Mastroianni knew he loved his hometown. It wasn’t beautiful, perhaps, but something told him it was special and worth fighting for. Mastroianni was born and raised in Trafford, a working-class Westinghouse town 18 miles east of downtown Pittsburgh. Beyond the local factory, Trafford featured a café, a string of blue-collar bars, and not much else.
Mastroianni adored the place. It was close enough to the city to get the Pirates by game on the radio, far enough away to preserve some of the best images of an America that even in the 1940s mostly existed in Rockwell paintings. Mastroianni liked it so much that he figured he’d never leave.
With the exception of his harrowing hitch as a foot soldier and prisoner during World War II, he figured right.
Tuesday night at the Tap House, during a celebration commemorating the 50th anniversary of his participation in D-Day and his liberation from a German prison camp, Mastroianni took a few moments to consider a subject he has thought about often but discussed a little over the years. The frequent Las Vegas visitor is a living reminder of what made this country Strong: quiet courage.
“We went into the army not knowing anything about the military,” Mastroianni said. At 70, the retired police chief looks 55. “It was the thing to do. It was something everyone was doing.”
In a small town, everyone amounted to three high school classmates. Of the fearless foursome, only Mastroianni would see action. After basic training, he shipped out to England where, after a few weeks, he found himself squatting in the belly of a landing craft with fellow members of the 29th Division. He waited 10 days in the English Channel, turning green on rough seas. Waiting for the word from Washington. Then 19 years old, Mastroianni and his mates hit Omaha Beach hours after the first troops landed in Normandy. He joined the fighting for St Lo, France, someone else’s hometown. St Lo was won, lost, and regained in a matter of days. Mastroianni, a Sergeant, and radio operator, suffered shrapnel wounds but kept fighting.
After 54 days in France, a slice of the 29th was separated from the pack and captured by the Germans. It was July 31. Mastroianni, the boy from Trafford, was a prisoner of war.
He was jammed into a freight car and shipped to Kuestrin, Germany. His only concern was for his parents; he knew they would worry if they didn’t hear from him. So he wrote them every day. None of his letters got through. Mastroianni waited out the war and thought of home.
“They wrote and sent me articles and boxes. I never got anything,“ he said. “They didn’t know anything until I was liberated.“ It took him months to get back. He hopped from Germany to Poland to Russia to Turkey to France to Italy and finally home to Trafford.
Others had fought longer, suffered more wounds, had been held captive under more brutal conditions. Thousands never came back at all. So, Mastroianni counted his blessings, married, and became a cop. He was the chief of police the last two decades of his 38-year career.
This week, the Chief returned to Las Vegas, his home away from Trafford, with his son, horse racing expert Jim Mastroianni Jr. All the talk of the day brought the memories rushing back.
Here’s one: January 31, 1945. Freezing weather in Kuestrin. Liberation day at the hands of Russian troops, who pointed the Americans toward Poland and told them to start walking. A German officer removed his overcoat and handed it to the young American from Pennsylvania. “He said he was to be killed and wouldn’t need it,“ Mastroianni said. A half-century later, he still has the coat and the chilling image.
“I was very fortunate. I am lucky to be here, and I’m thankful,” Mastroianni said. “Up until this year, I can’t remember anyone saying anything about the day. It was a great experience. But I wouldn’t want to go through it again.“
No one would.
Thankfully, someone did. The America for which Jim Mastroianni and thousands like him fought is just a spiritual destination as a place on a map. It is something to remember on D-Day and each day whether you were from Trafford, Las Vegas, or somewhere between.
Photo courtesy James Mastroianni Jr.
