By Michael Taylor
According to Joe Arambula, a veteran of some World War II's most intense battles in the European Theater, there is such a thing as being too careful in war. Seeing men killed for being too cautious made Arambula decide he'd rely on the powers that be.
Though he lost two brothers and his unit was hit hard during the fighting, the prospect of not returning from the war never crossed Arambula's mind.
By Tony Cantú
Charles Vizcaino Uranga, a self-made millionaire who fought at Normandy during World War II, left little doubt about who his hero was, during his interview in 2001.
Relating anecdotes from his childhood in Alpine, Texas, he summoned vivid memories of his father, Clemente J. Uranga, who, according to Uranga, helped Latinos gain admission into the town's high school. The older Uranga was very adamant about Latinos doing for themselves, his son said.
By Raquel C. Garza
Growing up in Laredo, Texas, Pedro "Pete" Tijerina said he "never knew what discrimination was," mainly because the city's population was mostly Mexican. School children spoke Spanish freely, never fearing reproach from teachers.
His father, Pedro Martinez Tijerina, provided for his family in a humble way; he worked as a self-employed truck driver, moving furniture from house to house. The elder Tijerina made a modest sum for his services, "75 cents, a dollar and a quarter would be too much," recalled Tijerina, smiling.
By Vanessa Adams
Esteban Soto is part of the second generation of veterans in his family. He remembers his father, a World War I veteran, telling stories of mustard gas and other horrors of the war. Little did Soto know, he too would witness these experiences himself -- in three different wars: World War II, Korea and, finally, Vietnam, a conflict in which his sons also fought.
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 Gabriel A. Manzano, Jr.
Pete Prado recognizes the brutality and inhumanity of war. But he also knows that because of his experiences during World War II and because of the GI benefits that resulted, his life and the lives of his three daughters and wife are far more comfortable.
"I hope that younger generations realize that war is terrible," Prado said. "We don't want it to happen again. When I was in the Philippines, I saw people picking up what you'd throw away as trash. Some people would pick it up to eat. That's how bad war is."
By Ruben Ali Flores
The bombing was over, the beach secured. Edward Lopez Prado watched as the waves rolled over the body of a fallen soldier.
It was Sept. 15, 1943, the day after the Salerno invasion on Italy. Salerno was considered one of the bloodiest operations of WWII, with heavy casualties. The 36th Infantry Division, Texas National Guard, was the first to engage mainland Europe and test Hitler's continental forces. Prado was assigned to Company C of the 131st Field Artillery Battalion of the 36th Infantry Division.
By Joanne R. Sánchez
When Abel Ortega was growing up, his family used to call him "the big thinker." "I was thinking of ways to reach the Far East," he said.
He had seen magazine pictures of the Chinese and the Japanese. Later, he sat in a rocking chair and pondered travel to those far away, seemingly unreachable destinations.
"My father was not a rich man, so I did not expect to ever go and visit these countries," he said.
By Juliana A Torres
William R. Ornelas grew up in a family of seven brothers and two sisters in Brownwood, Texas. They worked in the fields picking cotton, corn and wheat.
Like the rest of the country, the Ornelases were hit hard by the Depression.
"The whole world came to a stop. And so of course food and clothing were more important than school," Ornelas recalled.
To better help his family's financial situation, Ornelas dropped out in the 7th grade.