The dramatic story of Steven Spielberg's award-winning 1998 film "Saving Private Ryan" was loosely based on the Niland brothers' story and the tragic tales of other American brothers who served and died in World War II.
Upon joining the military, the four Niland brothers-Robert, Preston, Edward and Fritz- of Tonawanda, New York, were spread out amongst various units with Fritz and Robert in the 501st and 505th Parachute Infantries, respectively, 
and Preston in the 22nd Infantry and Edward in the Air Force. All four were supposedly killed in action. Fritz, however, was alive in France.
When George Marshall General of the Army, Army of the United States, heard three Niland brothers were dead and Fritz still fighting in France, he ordered Fritz to be shipped home so the Niland and other families with sons severing in the war wouldn't lose all their sons.
Fritz was shipped to England, then back home to New York, where he served as an M.P for the remainder of the war. Back at home, Fritz and his family grieved over the loss of his brothers, but then they got one piece of good news; Edward, presumed dead, had in fact been found alive in a Japanese POW camp where he'd been held until Burma was liberated. Now, a second Niland brother was on his way home.
This loss of family members such as the Niland's serving in war zones helped established the creation of the Sole Survivor Policy or DoD Directive 1315.15 "Special Separation Policies for Survivorship" describes a set of regulations in the Military of the United States that are designed to protect members of a family from the draft or from combat duty if they have already lost family members in military service.
Among the families that lost loved ones serving in World War II was the Sullivan family who lived in Waterloo, Iowa, population 50,000 in 1942.
Thomas F. Sullivan, the head of the family, worked for the Illinois Central railroad. He was named after his grandfather who had been born in Ireland. Tom Sullivan married Alleta Abel in 1914 at St. Joseph's Catholic church. As was typical of Irish-Catholic families of that generation, they lost no time in starting a large family.
The Sullivan family led lives much like other middle-class families of the 1920s and 1930s. It was Depression time and Tom Sullivan was fortunate that he had a job. Not all his children were able to finish high school. A few of the boys found it necessary to help meet the household expenses. Most of the family found work at the Rath meat packing plant. When the two oldest, George and Frank, returned home from a hitch in the Navy, all five Sullivan brothers were working together again, just as they were when playing sports on that lot next door to their home.
The youngest, Albert was the first to get married. He and his wife Mary became parents when their son, James Thomas, was born on May 11, 1940. The other brothers would probably have done the same, but World War II got in the way.
When reports were received about the death of their friend, Bill Ball, who was on the battleship Arizona when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor, the five brothers-George, Frank, Joe, Matt, and Al Sullivan-all joined the Navy on the same day shortly after the attack on Pearl Harbor. As they signed up, they stated that they had just one stipulation: If they were going to serve, the requested the Navy to allow them to stay together throughout their service. The Navy agreed.
On January 3, 1942, less than a month after Pearl Harbor, they were sworn in at Des Moines and left for Great Lakes Training Center. Following their training, all five were assigned to the light cruiser USS Juneau, which was part of a large U.S. Navy task force operating in the waters around New Caledonia. By August 1942, the USS Juneau was participating in the months-long Guadalcanal Campaign.
On the evening of November 12th, air reconnaissance discovered the approach of a large Japanese task force approaching Guadalcanal. The engagement began about 1:45 am of November 13, 1942. There was no moon that night and there was instant chaos as searchlights suddenly illuminated the two adversaries at close range to one another. All ships unleashed their barrage of heavy armaments at point blank range. Within 30 minutes the engagement was essentially over.
The Japanese lost a battleship and two destroyers. Five of the 13 U.S. ships had been sunk or were heavily damaged. Many men were lost, including the task force commander, Rear Admiral Callaghan. The USS Juneau had just barely survived, having received a torpedo hit on its port side which left a gaping hole and an almost severed keel, forcing the ship to withdraw.
Later that day, as it was leaving the Solomon Islands' area for the Allied rear-area base at Espiritu Santo with other surviving U.S. warships from battle, the USS Juneau was struck again, this time by a torpedo from Japanese submarine I-26. The torpedo likely hit the thinly armored light cruiser at or near the ammunition magazines and the ship exploded and in a large cloud of black,
yellow black, and brown smoke. Debris showered down among ships of the formation for several minutes after the explosion to such an extent as to indicate erroneously, a high-level bombing attack.
The captain of the USS San Francisco, H.E. Shonland, reported that: "It is certain that all on board perished." Captain Shonland was wrong-there were survivors from the Juneau. It was not known exactly how many made it into life rafts; there were at least 80. Among them was George Sullivan, the oldest brother, and Al, who drowned the next day. Frank, Joe and Matt had been killed instantly when the ship exploded.
Captain Gilbert C. Hoover, commanding officer of the light cruiser USS Helena and senior officer present in the battle-damaged US task force, was also skeptical that anyone had survived the sinking of the Juneau and believed it would be reckless to look for survivors, thereby exposing his wounded ships to a still-lurking Japanese submarine.
Hoover ordered his ships to continue towards Espiritu Santo and signaled a nearby U.S. B-17 bomber on patrol to notify Allied headquarters to send aircraft or ships to search for USS Juneau's crew that may have survived the torpedo attack and the sinking of their ship and were left in the water.
The B-17 bomber crew, under orders not to break radio silence, did not pass the message about searching for survivors to their headquarters until they had landed several hours later. The crew's report of the location of possible survivors was mixed in with other pending paperwork actions and went unnoticed for several days. It was not until days later that headquarters staff realized that a search had never been mounted and belatedly ordered aircraft to begin searching the area. In the meantime, USS Juneau's survivors, many of whom were seriously wounded, were exposed to the elements, hunger, thirst, and repeated shark attacks.
Gunner's Mate Allen Heyn was one of the survivors that was finally rescued from the sinking of the Juneau. He reported that there were 10 days of intense suffering as, one by one, the men succumbed to the intense heat, their wounds, and sharks. Many were badly burned and died a painful death. They became delirious from hunger and thirst. Heyn recalled how George Sullivan decided to take a bath one night. He took off all his clothes and swam around the raft. His movement attracted a shark and that was the last Heyn saw of him. Only ten men survived the ordeal.
Security required that the Navy not reveal the loss of Juneau or the other ships so as not to provide information to the enemy. Letters from the Sullivan sons stopped arriving at the home and the parents grew worried, which prompted Alleta Sullivan to write to the Bureau of Naval Personnel in January 1943, citing rumors that survivors of the task force claimed that all five brothers were killed in action.
This letter was answered by President Franklin D. Roosevelt on January 13, 1943, who acknowledged that the Sullivan's were missing in action, but by then the parents were already informed of their fate, having learned of their deaths on January 12. 1943. That morning, the boys' father, Tom, was preparing for work when three men in uniform - a Lieutenant Commander, a doctor and a Chief Petty Officer - approached his door. "I have some news for you about your boys," the naval officer said. "Which one?" asked Tom. "I'm sorry," the officer replied. "All five."
Al was survived by his wife Katherine Mary and son Jimmy. Joe left a fiancee named Margaret Jaros, while Matt left behind a fiancée named Beatrice Imperato. Genevieve, their only sister, served in the WAVES. She was the girlfriend of Bill Ball, whose death at Pearl Harbor prompted her brothers to join the Navy to avenge him.
The Navy named two destroyers 'The Sullivans' to honor the brothers: The Sullivans (DD-537) and The Sullivans (DDG-68). DD-537 was the first American Navy ship ever named after more than one person. The motto for both ships is "We Stick Together."
The issue that gave rise to the regulations first caught public attention after the five Sullivan brothers were all killed when the USS Juneau was sunk in the waters off Guadalcanal. The policy was enacted as law in 1948. No nominally peacetime restriction was in place until 1964 during the Vietnam War; in 1971, Congress amended the law to include not only the sole surviving son or daughter but also any son or daughter who had a combat-related death in the family. Since then, each branch of the military has made its own policies regarding separating immediate family members.
A museum wing has been built in honor of their service in World War II. The museum is in downtown Waterloo, Iowa, their hometown. It was completed in 2008. The grand opening occurred on November 15, 2008. The $11.5 million, state-of-the-art facility aims to play a role in preserving the history and service of Iowa veterans and serve as a facility for research and genealogy studies.
The brothers' story was filmed as the 1944 movie "The Sullivans" (later renamed "The Fighting Sullivans") and inspired, at least in part, the 1998 film "Saving Private Ryan."
On St. Patrick's Day, March 17, 2018, the discovery of the long-lost wreckage of the USS Juneau by Microsoft co-founder Paul Allen off the coast of the Solomon Islands.
Previously, Allen's research vessels also identified the wreck of the WWII Italian naval destroyer IT Artigliere, sunk in 1940, and the remains of the U.S. aircraft carrier USS Lexington, sunk in 1942. The Lexington was dubbed "The Ship That Saved Australia" after helping to defeat Japanese forces during the Battle of the Coral Sea.
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A retired Sergeant Major credited with saving scores of Marines during one of the Vietnam War's deadliest battles will receive the Medal of Honor.
Retired SgtMaj John Canley, 80, of Oxnard, California, learned he'll receive the nation's highest award for valor during a July 9 phone call from President Donald Trump. It was first reported Thursday by the Ventura County Star.
"He told me that it was OK to let my Marines know that I would be receiving the Medal of Honor," Canley told Military.com. "He thanked me for my service and also wanted to thank my Marines for their service."
The fight to see Canley's Navy Cross upgraded to the Medal of Honor has been a years-long effort. The former company gunnery sergeant with 1st Battalion, 1st Marines, is recognized with leading more than 140 men through an intense week-long battle to retake Hue City from Jan. 31 to Feb. 6, 1968.
Canley, who's from El Dorado, Arkansas, repeatedly braved heavy enemy fire to bring several wounded Marines to safety. When his company commander was seriously injured, Canley sprang into action, reorganizing his Marines by moving from one group to another to advise and encourage them, his Navy Cross citation states.
Former Pfc. John Ligato was one of those men. Ligato has spent the last 15 years making calls, taking Marines' statements and writing letters to see his gunny get the recognition he deserved.
"The Medal of Honor was rejected 10 times - never on the merits of what he did, it was always procedural," Ligato said. "There were times I gave up. But the irony is he's one of the most deserved Medal of Honor recipients ever in the history of our country."
Canley said his Marines were his only concern during the brutal battle. The average age of those fighting in the Vietnam War was just 19, he said, and they were looking for leadership.
"I'm just happy that I could provide that," he said. "It was an honor."
Ligato said Canley's actions far exceeded expectations. There were 147 Marines facing off against about 10,000 North Vietnamese troops. Canley not only led them from the front, but also with love, he said.
"I know this sounds strange, but he wasn't one of these gruff, screaming guys. You did stuff for him because you didn't want to disappoint him," he said. "You followed him because he was a true leader - something you need in life-and-death situations.
"He was totally fearless," Ligato added. "He loved his Marines, and we loved him back."
A date has not yet been set for the White House ceremony, but Ligato said Canley has asked him to speak about his company's Marines. Many of them went back to their communities one-by-one, he said, speaking little about the horrors they saw in Vietnam.
When they did talk about it, though, there was always one common thread.
"We all had a Gunny Canley story," Ligato said. "They were all different, but they all involved tremendous acts of valor."
That's why Ligato and some of his comrades have fought doggedly to have this honor bestowed, something Canley said has humbled him. From talking to members of Congress to Pentagon officials, they were determined to see this day come.
Canley's Medal of Honor citation will be read by Marines for generations. The retired sergeant major, who's battled prostate cancer since leaving Vietnam, said he hopes that those who go on to become staff noncommissioned officers or officers take away one simple message.
"That leadership is all about taking care of your people," he said. "If you do that, then you basically don't have to worry about the mission."
This Medal of Honor will help fill in the blanks of one of the most important Marine Corps battles in history, Ligato said. The actions Canley showed on the battlefield 50 years ago epitomize what it means to be a Marine, he added.
"Marines have been doing this since 1775," Ligato said. "Every once in a while, you have a Chesty Puller, a John Basilone or a John Canley. I think Marines reading his citation can take away that the Marine Corps is timeless."
Born in 1944 in Piqua, Ohio, William H. Pitsenbarger was an ambitious only child. He wanted to quit high school to join the U.S. Army Special Forces' "Green Berets," but his parents convinced him to stay in school. After graduating in 1962, Pitsenbarger decided to join the Air Force and on New Year's Eve 1962, he was on a train bound for basic training in San Antonio, Texas.
During his basic training in early 1963, "Pits" - as he was known to his friends - learned his military skills in a series of demanding schools. After Air Force basic training, he volunteered for pararescue work and embarked on a rigorous training program, which included U.S. Army parachute school, survival school, a rescue and survival medical course, and the U.S. Navy's scuba diving school. More Air Force rescue training and jungle survival school followed. His final training was in air crash rescue and firefighting.
His first assigned was to the Rescue Squadron assigned to Hamilton AFB California. He was later sent on TDY (Temporary Duty) to Vietnam. Upon completing his first TDY assignment, he volunteered to return and received orders in 1965 to report to Detachment 6, 38th Air Rescue and Recovery Squadron at Bien Hoa Air Base near Saigon. His unit was composed of five aircrews that flew three HH-43F Kaman Huskie helicopters, His commander, Maj. Maurice Kessler called him "One of a special breed, alert and always ready to go on any mission."
Arriving in Vietnam in August 1965, Pitsenbarger completed more than 250 missions, including one in which he hung from an HH-43's cable to rescue a wounded South Vietnamese soldier from a burning minefield. This action earned him the Airman's Medal and the Republic of Vietnam's Medal of Military Merit and Gallantry Cross with Bronze Palm.
On April 11, 1966, in the thick jungle near Cam My, Republic of Vietnam an infantry company on 134 soldiers from the 1st Infantry Division (the "Big Red One") was surrounded by a Viet Cong battalion of approximately 500 troops. In a fierce firefight, the North Vietnamese surrounded and pinned down the Americans. As the battle went on, the number of U.S. casualties grew steadily.
Detachment 6 of the USAF's 38th Aerospace Rescue and Recovery Squadron received an urgent call to evacuate the wounded. Army helicopters could not land in the battle zone because there were no clearings in the tall, dense "triple canopy" forest. The tallest trees rose 150 feet, and a second layer stood at about 100 feet, with a third layer below. Only U.S. Air Force HH-43 Huskie helicopters with cables and winches could hoist the injured from the jungle.
He was the rescue and survival specialist aboard "Pedro 73," one of the two Huskies on the mission. The Huskies were to take turns hoisting litters with critically wounded patients through the forest canopy and delivering them to a nearby airfield. Pedro 73's crew, while under fire and hovering in a hole in the forest below the tallest trees and barely large enough for the Huskie, saw that the ground troops desperately needed help loading wounded into the litter. Pitsenbarger volunteered to be lowered to the ground to help. He descended a hundred feet into the firefight with a medical bag, a supply of splints, a rifle and a pistol.
On the ground, he organized and speeded the evacuation, enabling the Huskies to rescue nine soldiers on several trips. Normally, pararescuemen return to the helicopter, but Pitsenbarger chose to stay and help the beleaguered troops. As the fight continued, Pedro 73 was badly damaged by ground fire and forced to withdraw. Rather than escape with the last Huskie, Pitsenbarger chose to stay on the ground and aid the wounded. Soon the firefight grew too intense for the helicopters to return.
For the next couple of hours, Pitsenbarger crouched and crawled through the thick jungle in search of wounded soldiers. He dragged them to the middle of the company's perimeter, hiding them behind trees and logs for shelter.
The circumstances deteriorated, forcing him to take up arms and fight the Viet Cong for an hour and a half, repeatedly exposing himself to heavy enemy fire while he did his utmost to make improvised splints and stretchers from the surrounding flora.
Ammunition running low, he darted around the battlefield, risking life and limb to collect leftover ammunition and distribute it to those still fighting. For his troubles, he sustained three wounds doing this. Yet, ignoring his wounds, he kept fighting.
He did his utmost to repel the attack and treat the wounded until the American perimeter was finally breached, and he took four shots while on his way to treat another wounded man, with the fourth hitting him between his eyes and killing him instantly.
As darkness fell, Pitsenbarger not only cared for the wounded but also collected and distributed ammunition to the surviving soldiers several times under enemy fire. In the early evening, he took four shots while on his way to treat another wounded man, with the fourth hitting him between his eyes and killing him instantly.
Viet Cong withdrew during the night, and the following morning U.S. forces were able to recover survivors and the fallen. Charlie Company had suffered 80 percent casualties.
For coordinating the successful rescues, caring for the wounded and sacrificing his life while aggressively defending his comrades, William H. Pitsenbarger received the Air Force Cross on June 30, 1966. After review, the original award was upgraded, and on Dec. 8, 2000, the Medal of Honor was presented to his family in a ceremony at the U.S. Air Force Museum. Airman Pitsenbarger is the 59th Medal of Honor recipient, and sixth enlisted recipient, from the Air Force and its predecessor organizations.
William H. Pitsenbarger was only 21 years old when he was killed in action. But in his short life and valorous Air Force career, he was an example of dedication, compassion, and tenacity for all those with whom he served. In his work, and especially on his final mission, Airman 1st Class Pitsenbarger embodied the Pararescueman's motto: "That Others May Live."
Pitsenbarger's heroism inspired a motion picture. "The Last Full Measure," will be released later this year, and will star Samuel L. Jackson, Peter Fonda, William Hurt, Diane Ladd, Alison Sudol and Christopher Plummer, and Jeremy Irvine will play Pits himself.
What had been a three-day showdown between the Union Army under the command of Major General George G. Meade and General Robert E. Lee's Confederate forces reached its peak on the third and final day of the battle, July 3, 1863, at the Battle of Gettysburg.
Pickett's Charge was one of the most devastating infantry attacks recorded during the American Civil War. 
The charge led by George Edward Pickett, Confederate States Army general is best known for leading his division into the center of the Union lines.
The previous fighting which had transpired on July 1st-2nd left neither the Union or Confederate armies significantly better off.
General Lee's military secretary gave the following description of Lee's plan for the attack on July 3rd:
"There was a weak point, where Cemetery Ridge, sloping westward, formed the depression through which the Emmitsburg road passes. Perceiving that by forcing the Federal lines at that point and turning toward Cemetery Hill, Hays' Division would be taken in flank and the remainder would be neutralized. Lee determined to attack at that point, and the execution was assigned to Longstreet."
George Pickett was one of the three division commanders under General Lee's "Old War Horse" James Longstreet. Pickett's division consisted of three brigades as General Montgomery D. Corse's Brigade was ordered to remain in the region of Taylorsville. However, all these units were fresh having arrived late on the previous day.
On July 2nd, just two hours past midnight, the Soldiers started their twenty-five-mile march to Gettysburg, arriving late in the evening.
In a council of war held by Union forces on the eve of July 2nd, Major General George G. Meade speculated about Lee's line of attack to engage the center of his defenses. He correctly surmised that Lee would challenge the center of his lines had failed on both his flanks on preceding days.
General Lee's initial plan on the 2nd day was to send General Longstreet to attack the left flank of the Union forces with Lt. Gen. Richard S. Ewell leading the attack on Culp's Hill on the Union right.
However, while Longstreet was gathering his men, Union forces started a massive military bombardment against Ewell's troops at Culp's Hill and after a gruesome seven hours of battle, the Union Army had managed to hold their positions. Despite the early engagement by Ewell's forces and their failure to take Culp's Hill, Lee continued his offensive strategy to strike right at the center of the Union line on Cemetery Ridge.
Brigadier General Henry J. Hunt came up with a brilliant idea to hold fire from their center lines when the Confederates carried out an artillery bombardment against their position early in the afternoon. This led the Confederates to believe that their enemy's batteries had been knocked out.
This further encouraged Lee's decision to attack there and around 3 p.m., when the firing had died down, 12,500 Confederate Soldiers in nine infantry brigades came tearing down the 1300 yards that led to the Cemetery Ridge.
Pickett commanded his three brigades on the right while Joseph Pettigrew with his four brigades and Trimble's two brigades were on the left. As the infantry advanced, Union Soldiers began hailing "Fredericksburg!" referring to a previous charge which they, the Union forces attempted and failed in the 1862 Battle of Fredericksburg.
Union forces reigned artillery fire from the flanks of Cemetery Hill, and heavy musket and canister fire came from Hancock's II Corps. As Pickett and the others drew closer, the Union forces unleashed a heavy fire on their attackers, much to the surprise of the Confederate commanders and General Lee.
The charge only got as far as the low stone wall that acted as a shield for the Union Soldiers, breaching it and temporarily breaking the U.S. lines; Confederate and Union Soldiers battled and brawled, clawing at each other in an urgent attempt to hang on to their positions, one side advancing and the other defending until reinforcements were sent in, breaking off the Confederates' short contact with the opposing forces and pushing them back.
Massive casualties were sustained on the side of the Confederates; a hailstorm of projectiles was fired at Pettigrew's men, while the other divisions also encountered heavy fire, sustaining losses too great to continue the march further.
General Lee's army was exhausted and depleted both in ammunition and in physical condition. He thereafter ordered the retreat of his men and the three-day battle was finally over, resulting in a huge number of casualties on both sides.
During the three days of fighting, over 560 tons of ammunition were fired resulting in over 50,000 casualties almost equally shared by the Confederate and Union Armies, making this one of the bloodiest battles of the American Civil War.
General Pickett's Virginian brigades went furthest in the assault, making a turn in what is called "the Angle" at the edge of the stone wall. Their position marks what is called the "High-water mark of the Confederacy," arguably representing the closest the Confederates ever got to achieving independence from the Union through military action.
General Lee gathered his wounded and exhausted Army, taking a whole day to prepare his retreat. However, Meade's army did not try to pursue giving the reason that his army was also too battered and exhausted. Having had his own fill of bloodshed for the day, he allowed the Confederates to make their exit without further contact.
Pickett remained embittered long after the war, recounting in his memory the massive number of men he lost that day.