On the hunt for American WWII veterans’ stories

John Bistrica reflects on D-Day

Video

Florent Plana was in Youngstown this week -- miles away from his France home. Why he was here is pretty special. He came to interview WWII Vet John Bistrica about D-Day.

If life was how we all wished, John Bistrica and Florent Plana would never have met.

But this past week, there the two were on Youngstown’s North Side – together, despite how disparate they are.

John is 94 – slowed, but steady.

He’s aware of the life he lives now in the same city neighborhood he’s called home his whole life. And he’s aware of the life he lived – even if some of those memories take a bit to dust off.

Florent is 25 – passionate and caring.

He’s 3,700 miles from home, sleeping in a camper that he parks nightly in Walmart parking lots as he winds his way around America. He’s on a hunt for Americans – the ones who landed in his town in 1944 and saved his country. He is from Normandy.

He started his quest in 2014 and has been to 30 states and filmed the stories of 260 U.S. veterans – complete strangers who are old enough to be his great-grandfather.

“There are some people sometimes who don’t understand what we are doing,” said Florent. “They don’t understand that young people are interested in their story. We just tell them: ‘We’re from France. You freed our country. This is not a joke. If you were not there, I would not be here.”

And with that mission, he rolls on in his camper he bought on Craigslist for $2,400. He has put 42,000 miles on “Coyote.” He named the camper after a night he spent in Texas. “When a pack of coyotes howl, it’s scary,” he said, his eyes wide with intensity. “Even when you are in a camper, it’s scary.”

Florent speaks perfect English through an undeniably French accent. But he’s pretty Americanized. He would fit in easily on any college campus. He’s plucky, in charge of the room, and tells great stories that you’d want to hear around a campfire.

More importantly, he enjoys listening to great stories.

That’s what brought him to John Bistrica’s house this past week.

John is a WWII D-Day veteran and proudly tells his story to any and all. He’s been in The Vindicator many times over the years. The photos around his home testify to the places he’s been – marching, talking and posing.

But mainly representing.

“He never talked about the war for years,” said his son, Joe. “Then he got concerned that it wasn’t being remembered. They kind of breeze right over World War II in history classes. So for the past 20 years, he would do anything any one asked him to do.”

For three hours Monday, he told his story to Florent and two other French guests.

He is most captivating as he dissects June 6, 1944 – D-Day.

A historic photo called “Into the Jaws of Death” was taken from John’s landing boat, he asserts. A framed copy has a prominent place on John’s wall with his notes on the glass frame. Joe said there is no proof from which boat came the historic photo. But John’s story is convincing.

A normal glance of the photo carries your attention front and center to the body-strewn beach and then to the mammoth bluffs from which German soldiers rained down bullets.

What you overlook tucked in the corner of the photo is the plastic gun wrap and the spool of wire on the boat floor. Such small details meant life and death in that fateful beach assault. D-Day claimed the lives of more than 4,500 U.S. soldiers. But not John’s.

John said he removed the plastic wrap on his gun so he could shoot immediately. And the wire spool was left there by the radio operator next to him for fear the extra weight would drown him.

“I was scared,” said John. He said that to a captain, who replied: “I’m scared, too. Just follow everyone else. What else can I tell you?”

John remembers scrambling to the right when he hit the beach. A guy next to him got shot. John stopped, sliced the guy’s vest so he could breathe easier, and they made it to a safe area where other soldiers had huddled – alive and dead.

He looked for his other company guys, and found one nearby looking out over a hedgerow. He walked up to him, asking him about the rest of the guys, but the soldier did not speak. When John got around to look at him, a bullet pierced the guy’s forehead – killing him where he stood.

John slept that first night in a foxhole he dug, and bullets strafed the night air right above him.

“They were so close, it was like you could reach out and touch them,” he said.

His jacket is adorned with service medals. He wears it still today and put it on for Florent. One item is not a medal, but a knitted red, white and blue button the size of a half-dollar.

A small French girl gave it to John as he rolled through a village on a tank. She was held up in the air by her mother. The girl said to him “Thank you American soldier” as she gave it to John.

“I wanted to jump down and give her a hug. But the tank rolled on, and all I could do was wave.”

Three hours of this storytelling filled Florent’s Monday.

And when it was done, he rolled off in Coyote to his next stop – Erie, Pa. He pays his way via donations at gofundme.com – search “WWII veterans memories museum.” You can find Florent’s work on Facebook under “World War II Veterans’ Memories.”

“I feel very fortunate to talk to them, as it’s 70 years later,” Florent said.

“It means a lot to be able to thank them.”

Todd Franko is editor of The Vindicator. He likes emails about stories and our newspaper. Email him at tfranko@vindy.com. He blogs, too, on Vindy.com. Tweet him, too, at @tfranko.