Stars and Stripes

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One of a kind. Fearless. Two things that come to mind when I think of my dad. I'll never forget the image of him shirtless, going out into the backyard during one of those torrential Florida storms to tie up the boat. I remember the hail coming down and hitting his back. 15 years older than my mother he regaled us with his stories. We were in awe when he would tell us about following Patton around on a jeep or that President Roosevelt knew him by his first name. The dinner he had with King Farouk and how afterwards the whole platoon came down with dysentery. He said in his 4 years in the Army he had enough experiences for a lifetime and had the photographs to back that up. The army kept his negatives, but he made sure to make prints of everything. They were all kept in those green Army photo albums up in the closet. The Yalta conference, the great pyramids and Mussolini's head. He was about to be sent back to the states to teach photo intelligence when he visited Cairo on R&R. He could talk his way into anything and that's just what he did when he saw the way the army was living there. The hotel they had taken over, the villas and sufragis. There was also plenty he didn't talk about or want to remember. Like being one of the first people allowed into Dachau after it was liberated because he was Jewish. He still remembered some Arabic and proudly used it whenever he had the chance. I remember he taught us how to make pinhole cameras and when I was older he gave me his Yashica 2 ¼ which I still have.

Memorial Day is the day to remember those who died serving our country. It's the day the sprinklers are turned on in the playground. It's the start of summer and the day I was born. It's also the day I remember my father, Staff Sergeant Arthur L. Benjamin, Combat Photographer, Stars and Stripes.