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 A Proud Tradition of Military Service
My paternal grandfath er and namesake, Charles Zissman, emigrated to the United States from Poland or Russia (family opinion differs on this) in the late 1890s, and entered the United States through Ellis Island. He fought as an American soldier during World War I where he and countless others suffered terribly from unsanitary conditions in the trenches of France, and from relentless enemy artillery fire and mustard gas attacks. My family’s oral history indicates that Grandpa Zissman fought on the Western Front, in the Battle of Chateau-Thierry, the Battle of Belleau Wood and the Second Battle of the Marne. After the war, my grandfather served under Colonel George S. Patton, and I still have the military orders promoting him to the rank of Corporal, signed by Patton.
As a young teen, my father, Sol Zissman, was eager to serve his country. During World War II he enlisted in the Marine Corps at the tender age of 16, lying about his age in order to join (18 was the minimum age to enlist). His parents supported his decision but certainly didn’t like it. When the going got tough in Marine Corps Basic Training, his parents offered to notify officials of his true age so he could end the agony, but he’d have none of that. Boot camp must have been a memorable experience for him though, because he’s talked about it so many times that I know the name and accomplishments of his basic training Drill Instructor, Gunnery Sergeant R. H. Kurr. Gunney Kurr was a member of Carlson’s Raiders, said to be the first US Special Operations forces. Dad served as a baby-faced 17 year old Devil Dog on the island of Okinawa during the American occupation of the Japanese Empire.
Being raised as a young boy in the sixties by a former Marine, my toy box was filled with toy rifles and war surplus helmets, ammo belts, and canteens. The neighbor boys and I fought many valiant battles on our Sacramento area cul-de-sac and the open fields nearby, taking turns playing the good guys and bad guys. I heard countless stories of Dad’s and Granddad’s wartime experiences, some of them so frequently that I can almost lip-sync the stories now as Dad tells them! (Not that I mind of course; I still enjoy hearing him tell his stories.) I can remember being awaken on more than one occasion to the sound of Dad calling out loudly in his best Drill Instructor voice, “Hit the deck boot, you’re burning daylight!” with that sort of upbringing and family heritage, it was probably inevitable that I too would one day wear my country’s uniform.
Amazingly , when I came home at the age of 19 and proudly announced my intention to enlist in The Corps, Dad talked me out of joining! I was stunned that my leatherneck father would suggest that the career I’d already begun in the emerging field of computer networking would be more valuable to me than military service. The Viet Nam war had ended a few years prior, and the shameful attitude of the American people toward those who wore the uniform of the US armed forces didn’t make military service a particularly bright career choice at the time. Thankfully, our nation’s attitude about men and women in uniform has since changed, and military service is again rightly seen as honorable and praiseworthy.
As time passed I felt an ever increasing sense that I had shirked my duty to my country and my family by failing to pay my dues in the military. Nine days before I would have become too old to join, I enlisted in the US Army Reserve, Military Police Corps. I was 35 years old when I entered basic training months later, and turned 36 - twice the age of most of my basic training peers - before graduating. I finally experienced the pride and satisfaction that came from standing ready to protect and defend all that I cherished, as did my father and his father before him.
I remained in the MP Corps for 13 years, which included one year and four months in Iraq and Kuwait during Operation Iraqi Freedom. In the war, I served as a MP Team Leader, performing convoy security, route reconnaissance, mounted patrols, and other tasks in the Baghdad area and on the supply routes between Baghdad and the Kuwaiti border. I become the third consecutive generation of Zissman males to proudly serve in a foreign war in the United States armed forces. I had the great honor and privilege to serve with some incredible young men and women who now are like family to me, and will be forever.
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