The Production

from Adam Schein, Line Producer

If you were to ask Max when this project began for him, he would tell you it’s something he’s been working on his entire life.  For me, this project began more concretely in the spring of 2006, when I began compiling information about each of these five men in preparation for our visit to Normandy in June.  In Normandy, we found the places where each of them had died. We stood in the field where Walter Perra’s damaged P-38 crashed; we walked along the road near St. Come du Mont where Gene Sellers’ parachute had become entangled. Each location was a fresh opportunity for me to remember that most of these men had been barely my age, and their futures must have been as comfortably distant for them as mine is for me. But I knew that we had barely begun to discover who these men were. In a sense, we had begun our journey at the end.  For each of these individuals, the information we had gathered up to that point painted only an incomplete sketch. We had read memoirs from soldiers whom they had fought beside or under; we had studied excerpts of letters that they had written home, and we had begun to get to know the families who had previously thought these stories might not persevere through the years. But the deeper questions about these men – who and what they loved and treasured, how they might have been influenced by the characteristics of their hometowns – remained unanswered. We would have to go back to where their lives began, and speak in person with those who knew them the best, as well as the people who never knew them but have been affected by them just the same, before we could truly get to know these men.

Since then, the road we’ve taken has been full of surprises and discoveries. In going back to the hometowns of these men, we have traveled all over the map, to California, Arkansas, Wisconsin, upstate New York, and West Virginia.  We have sought out the places that had once been so significant in their lives: places where they were born, were raised, studied, played sports, fell in love, raised families, and longed for while they were away.  From photos and home footage, we could tell that some places had hardly changed at all, while others were nearly unrecognizable.   We have met with their sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, nieces, nephews, grandchildren, friends, and acquaintances, who’ve shared not just their memories, photos, and letters, but given us precious glimpses into the true nature of the impact these lives have had on their own.

In reality, of course, there is no way to truly bring these five people back to life.  It is these friends and family members who come to life when they talk about them.  In this way, it is as much their story as it is the story of these men.  It is as much about their souls, and their vulnerability, as those of the men they speak of. For me, words could not accurately describe the experience of witnessing a man view actual home movie footage of his brother that he had not seen in more than 60 years.  Nor could words describe what it was like to hear a son explain how the feeling of connection he has with the father he never knew has helped him cope with his own life-changing traumas.

At times, when it’s late at the editing room, I can’t help wondering what these men would think about someone like me, someone practically their own age, working on piecing together the remnants of their shortened lives.  And I also feel the undeniable regret of never having found out from my own grandfather the full story of what he had experienced as a 1st Infantry Division soldier in the war before he died in early 2005.

Thus far, we have shot over 100 hours of original footage in high-definition. We have sorted and archived thousands of photos and letters. Additionally, we have scanned through tens of thousands of feet of grainy World War II footage and photographs, as well as color footage that has rarely been seen. But these quantities cannot by themselves speak to the lifetimes of grief, searching, and reconciliation that have shaped the lives of the people whose stories compose the backbone of this film.  I have been sincerely touched by all the friends and families we have met along the way, and I hope that everyone who sees the film once it is completed will feel connected to these people as well.  I can’t help feeling like my own family is now larger than it had been before.  I want to thank all the friends and families who have contributed their time and effort to this project.  Without that, none of this would be possible.  I know you will be proud of our film when it is done.

© 2007-8 Dog Green Productions