Last updated: October 26, 2024
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“The Decent Things of Life”: Eisenhower, Herbert Kaufman, and the Memory of D-Day
Courtesy of the American Battle Monuments Commission
In the summer of 1963, Dwight Eisenhower was a retired president, living at his beautiful farm in Gettysburg, PA. Ike, as he was affectionately known by millions around the world, spent his days working on correspondence, memoirs, and visiting his beloved Gettysburg Country Club to play rounds of golf. In his golden years of retirement, peaceful as they were, Eisenhower was still haunted by the conflicts that had dominated his lifetime.
No conflict, and perhaps no day, dominated Eisenhower’s memories, his beliefs, and his actions more than D-Day -- June 6, 1944.
With the 20th anniversary approaching, Eisenhower was approached by CBS news with an idea—Eisenhower could commemorate the anniversary of the largest amphibious operation in history by returning to Normandy with famed anchor Walter Cronkite. The two men would revisit planning meetings in England and walk the sand strewn beaches of Normandy, all while Eisenhower provided reminiscences of the most consequential days and decisions of his lifetime in the lead up to June 6, 1944.
In the early fall of 1963, Eisenhower left his Gettysburg farm and made the trek across the Atlantic Ocean. Much like 20 years before, his actions in England and France were well documented, though this time by CBS news cameras.
Eisenhower and Cronkite spoke about the tense days, weeks, and months of planning that went into the invasion, detailing decisions related to logistics, conflicts between commanders, and the final decision to postpone and then launch the invasion in the face of questionable weather forecasts.
In the midst of his trip to Normandy, however, despite the recognition of a televised special on one of history’s great battles by one of history’s great commanders, there is a little known story that reminds us that, for Dwight Eisenhower, June 6, 1944 was more than Pegasus Bridge, Pointe du Hoc, Bernard Montgomery, Omar Bradley, and the many other places and people who have become part of the legend of D-Day. June 6, 1944, was ultimately a day of ordinary people doing extraordinary things. As he returned to Normandy nearly 20 years later, Eisenhower took a moment to honor one of those ordinary individuals in a manner that was both powerful and quiet all at once.
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Florence and Abe Kaufman were citizens of Terre Haute, Indiana. Abe moved to Terre Haute in 1939 and became what one local newspaper called a “movie magnate.” He purchased and ran the Fountain Theater in town, believing that as a place of film and art a theater was a cultural pillar of a community. Abe and Florence had two children—their first-born son was named Herbert, and their youngest was named James.
As a Jewish family, the Kaufmans had certainly read accounts in newspapers of the escalating Nazi persecution of European Jews in the 1930s. While the full villainy of the Nazi regime was revealed during the wartime years with Allied advances deep into Germany, many in the U.S. and elsewhere were still well aware that the Third Reich was not a welcoming society.
In late 1942, Herbert joined the US Army, leaving college after one year of study to do so. After training, he was assigned to Company E, 2nd battalion, 116th Infantry Regiment, 29th Infantry Division (ID).
On the morning of June 6, 1944, the 29th ID was one of two American divisions designated to attack Omaha Beach.
In the early morning hours of June 6, the men of Company E ate breakfast aboard their ship in the English Channel, heard the words of General Eisenhower’s “Order of the Day” broadcast or were handed paper copies of the order, and made their way into their Higgins boats to begin the trek to the coastline of Normandy. As they got into the choppy waters of the English channel, Nazi occupied Europe lay straight ahead.
The currents in the channel were strong that morning, pushing many landing craft off course. Herbert’s boat was pushed one mile east of its designated landing site. As the craft came close to the shore, a German artillery shell struck the boat and tore through the hull, exploding inside and sending the front door flying. Men were killed, stunned, or flung into the cold waters of the English Channel. Herbert made his way out of the boat, and in the melee of the artillery shell and receiving German small arms fire, he was wounded in the leg. Amid the chaos, he was swept under the boat by a wave. Herbert was one of a small number of wounded who made it to the sea wall, while others struggled ashore and fought their way inland. After his wounding and being pulled under his boat, PFC Herbert Kaufman died of his wounds the next day, June 7, 1944.
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In the summer of 1944, the U.S. government sent thousands of telegrams to loved ones who anxiously awaited news of their family members overseas. These telegrams bore word of far away places like Saipan, Monte Cassino, and yes, the beaches of Normandy. On July 23, 1944, Abe and Florence Kaufman received word that their son Herbert, their first-born child, had died trying to establish a foothold for freedom and liberty in Western Europe.
Beset by grief, the Kaufmans sought answers. Abe wrote numerous letters asking for news of what happened to Herbert, seeking details of his death. One such letter was sent to Lt. Edward Gorman, Jr., a member of Herbert’s company. Abe saw that Gorman’s name was on some of Herbert’s correspondence home, and Gorman was even in a picture Herbert had sent. He wrote asking for details of his son, and if Gorman would help to send along Herbert’s personal effects.
In closing, Abe wrote:
“Mrs. Kaufman and I would be most grateful for a letter or letters from you or any of the boys, also the Chaplain, we are most anxious to know the name of the town in France, where he is buried, and other information pertaining to this, that you think we should know.
“With best wishes, for a speedy victory and a fond hope that the boys blast so much ‘hell out of the Nazis’ that never again will they ever get the will to start another war, let’s make sure of it this time.”
In the coming months, Abe and Florence Kaufman received numerous letters from the U.S. government concerning their son. They were ultimately sent Herbert’s ring, bracelet, wallet, and one leather case, as well as a small sum of money he had when he died.
In 1947, like hundreds of thousands of other parents, Abe and Florence Kaufman were sent a questionnaire and form asking where they would like their son’s final resting place to be. As an affluent and victorious nation, the United States had embarked upon an effort to repatriate the bodies of its WWII fallen, something unprecedented in scale and cost. Having given their first-born to their country, the Kaufmans were being given the choice where their country could bury him for a fitting and lasting grave.
Abe and Florence selected to have Herbert remain in France, choosing the American cemetery at St. Lauren on the Sea.
In making this choice, Abe added a hand-written note to the form, expressing what he thought would be his late son’s wishes:
“I believe my son would prefer to be buried with his comrades, where they gave up their lives in the fight for the decent things of life and the protection of all minorities. Let us hope and strive to that end---and that our Government will see to it that his death, as well as the many others, was not in vain.”
As the years went by, Abe and Florence aged, seeing their surviving son Jim go on to start a family, no doubt wondering what Herbert would have gone on to do with his life.
In 1963, Florence read about the upcoming 20th anniversary of D-Day. What caught her eye was that General Eisenhower was set to travel to France for his planned TV special with CBS news. Being advanced in years, Florence knew it was unlikely that either she or Abe would ever be able to visit Herbert’s grave. Thus, she took a chance.
In July 1963, Florence Kaufman sent a letter to Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, asking the former president and Supreme Allied Commander if, amidst his important trip, he might have time to stop by her son’s grave on her behalf, adding, “when you go, please say a silent prayer for our Darling boy.” Florence closed her request by noting, “Wish we could be there, but this will help.”
The former president received the letter from Terre Haute, Indiana. His secretary, Lillian Brown, wrote back to tell Mrs. Kaufman that she was uncertain if the Eisenhowers would have time during their visit to fulfill her request, but that it was being passed along just in case.
Courtesy of the American Battle Monuments Commission
Over one month later, Florence Kaufman found a letter from Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, in her mailbox. One can only imagine her response upon opening it to see a note from Ms. Lillian Brown, accompanied by a photograph. In the image, her aging eyes saw a former president of the United States standing at the grave of her first-born child, with a lovely floral bouquet set at the foot of his Star of David shaped headstone. According to the accompanying note, the flowers were chosen by Mamie Eisenhower herself.
This image was taken just before Ike filmed scenes for his television special with Walter Cronkite. It was not sent to the press. It was not broadcast for public engagement. It was taken and sent privately and simply for the benefit of two grieving parents, people Dwight and Mamie Eisenhower had never met. Their only link was the grief and their separate lived experiences of D-Day and the Second World War.
Upon seeing the image, Florence quickly penned a note in response to Lillian Brown, Eisenhower’s personal secretary:
“Dear Miss Brown,
The photograph of our son’s grave with President Eisenhower by it came this morning. We will always treasure it.
Please convey our appreciation to the President and his lovely wife for being so thoughtful. The flowers are beautiful. I simply can’t find the right words to thank them both enough.”
As this article is penned in May 2024, once again, we are marking an anniversary of D-Day. Three more generations have passed since Eisenhower’s return visit to Normandy to mark the 20th anniversary.
Gone are both Dwight and Mamie Eisenhower. Gone are Florence and Abe Kaufman. Gone are so many members of a generation that fought, not for themselves, but for, in the words of one gold star father, “the decent things of life.”
While so many are gone, what remains is a beautiful, pristine cemetery landscape in Normandy, with nearly 10,000 white marble graves. Some are Latin Crosses, and some are Stars of David.
What remains are the decent things of life, passed along to us by those who now rest under those white headstones.
What remains is our challenge to preserve that which Herbert and so many others fought for, and in the words of Abe Kaufman, to “see to it that his death, as well as the many others, was not in vain.”
What remains is the peaceful farm of Dwight and Mamie Eisenhower, where they spent their final years reflecting on their monumental lives and the world they shaped, as well as those who were lost along the way.
What remains is the grave of Herbert Kaufman, where once upon a time, many years ago, a former president and first lady quietly and discreetly paused to pay their respects and honor the wishes of a grieving mother.