By Susan Miller
Felipe and Mary Soliz live in a well-kept, modest house in a quiet neighborhood right at the entrance to town. Their home is filled with flags and war portraits in every corner. Mr. Soliz is a veteran of WWII and the Korean Conflict.
"We love the flag; we honor it and we protect it," he said.
Soliz, 72, was a technician for the U.S. Air Force in WWII; during the Korean Conflict, he did administrative and technical work. He retired from the Air Force in 1967.
By Rhonda Miller
World War II veteran Raymond Sanchez went bird hunting once with a Navy buddy in South Texas. The two friends, both Latinos, decided to stop for a beer at a little tavern on Highway 72 between Kennedy and Three Rivers.
"We came to this shed outside and all the Hispanics or Mexican Americans were drinking outside," Sanchez said. "I says, 'Hey man, it's September and it's hot, why don't we go inside?'
“He says, 'Raymond, we can't,' and I asked, 'Why?'
“He says, 'It's just the way it is, you know.'"
By Vicki Lamar
Eddie Sanchez was 17 years old when he saw the reality of war in Utine, Italy, in 1945. Horrified, he left camp without permission -- absent without leave, or AWOL. That act changed his life, as punishment was kitchen patrol duty. Before long he was running the kitchen and on his way to a distinguished 31-year Army career in Food Services.
By Cliff Despres
Three weeks after Japan bombed Pearl Harbor, Charles "Carlos" Guerra Samarron, of San Antonio, Texas, joined the fight and enlisted in the United States Marine Corps, beginning a four-year stint in the military and opening the door for a lifetime of memories.
As part of the 3rd Marine Division, 3rd Amphibious Tractor Battalion, Samarron would survive perilous beach assaults on the islands of Guam and Iwo Jima, face down the possibility of invading Japan and exit the war in 1946 with a new perspective on life.
By Jaime Stockwell
The sun squinted through the leaves, leaving subtle shadows on the cracked concrete sidewalk. There he stood, with a bag slung over his shoulder and a quarter in his pocket, defiant and determined. Success would be hard earned; he knew that from his father, and all the fathers before. But as he stood there -- glancing left, right, left, right -- he didn't seem to mind.
By Cheryl Smith
Seventy-seven-year-old María Elisa Reyes Rodriguez isn’t shy about opening her mouth when something's not right. As a Mexican American woman and former employee of the United States Civil Service, she has developed strong opinions about her country, discrimination and the relationship between the two.
"We're in America, and everybody has to be treated equally," Reyes Rodriguez said. "But if you don't have the guts to speak out for yourself, nobody's gonna do it for you."
By Andria Infante
Benito L. Rodriguez served 20 years in the service and doesn't regret a single second.
Rodriguez went in willingly, volunteering to serve his country; in the course of his tour of duty, he risked his life and was awarded a Purple Heart.
Speaking from the dining room at his South Austin home, Rodriguez discussed his life before and after the war. His wife, María Elisa Reyes Rodriguez, sat by his side and helped fuel his memory. A well-groomed man, Rodriguez maintained a serious demeanor and kept his answers short and to the point.
By Sherri Fauver
For a generation that experienced both the Great Depression and the trials of World War II, hardship and sacrifice was a fact of life.
If you add to that, the experience of being a Latino and a woman at a time when neither group was well regarded, you could have the making of a melodrama. Unless, of course, you are talking to Henrietta Lopez Rivas.
By Frank Trejo
A radio signal that happened to bounce all the way north to Dutch Harbor in the Aleutian Islands provided a lifeline for Ramon Martín Rivas during World War II. It was the early stage of the war and Rivas, a 21-year-old young man who had seldom traveled far from his impoverished South Texas community of Charlotte, found himself stationed in a forbidding wintry land 1,000 miles southwest of Alaska.
By Chris Nay
Infantryman Reginald Rios watched helplessly in December of 1944 as two fellow Americans fell to enemy fire while U.S. Sherman tanks faced off against German Panzers in northern France.
His only thought: to survive.
Shooting out of foxholes on the front line every day, ducking into foxholes to avoid bullets every night and praying every minute it would end soon -- such was the life of Rios during World War II, as infantryman were the first to the front line.
"You have to do it," he said. "You either do what you're told or be killed."
