Phil Sturm was not a front line soldier. No decorations of valor, no battle scars, except for a skin irritation known as "Jungle Rot" that annoyed him all his life. Heroism was the legacy of other family members:
No, Phil Sturm was just another of the millions drafted to serve in the backwaters of World War II. That's why I've always been so proud of him. He did what his country asked, resumed his life and asked nothing in return. He was my father, and always, my greatest hero.
There were so many stories while I was a child. Camp Campbell, Kentucky, Hollandia New Guinea,
Biak Island and the first sight of San Francisco from the troopship at the end
of the voyage home. Then the stories became fewer, the memories became dimmer. Now I have only
an old uniform and these documents and photos to mark the defining time in my father's life.
I share them with the world, in loving memory of my father, as a tribute to all who served.
Please drop me an email if you saw this page.
Comments, corrections and additions from all readers are always
appreciated. May the deeds of the World War II generation live eternally in the memory of our great nation.
Mike Sturm
The Uniform
The Documents
The Photographs
The Letters
The 45 Times
68 Years of Service
Epilogue
Memorial Prayer
November, 2000