Like so many World War II combat veterans, Eddie Sessions spoke sparingly about his experiences, and said he didn’t understand why anyone would be interested in them, least of all me, the editor of The Atlanta Journal-Constitution.
At a 2012 ceremony in Atlanta when he received France’s most prestigious medal — the National Order of the Legion of Honor — for his service, Sessions was the only veteran of 12 there who demurred when given the chance to address the crowd. That moment underscored his reticence and incomplete memory about the war.
Eddie Joe Sessions of Carrollton died Thursday after a long illness. He was 88. Visitation is scheduled for 4-6 p.m. Sunday at Almon Funeral Home in Carrollton. His funeral will be at 10 a.m. Monday in the chapel of the funeral home, and Sessions will be buried with military honors at 1 p.m. at the Georgia National Cemetery in Canton.
Credit: Jason Getz
Credit: Jason Getz
Sessions was the subject of "The replacement soldier," my June 2013 article in the AJC's "Personal Journeys" series, which chronicled his war experience and the nine-month effort to uncover it.
READ MORE
> "The Replacement Soldier," the story of Private Eddie Sessions in the AJC
> Eddie Sessions' obituary in The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
I came to know this remarkably modest man, who was stubbornly matter-of-fact about his dramatic experiences. His tale came together in pieces, many of which he didn’t know.
He had a habit of joking about even the most vivid moments of his war experience, saying once in response to a question about why he’d so often agreed to solo combat assignments: “I liked to make my own decisions.”
During one interview, his wife of 50 years, Shirley — who had for decades sought more information about his service — admonished him for joking.
“I don’t think the war was as funny as you make it sound,” she said.
Credit: Jason Getz
Credit: Jason Getz
Credit: Jason Getz
Credit: Jason Getz
Often, though, his answer to a question was, “I don’t know.” That offered the first clue that Sessions represented the mostly untold saga of a lowly class of soldiers in the war: “replacements.” They were unprepared young men sent to the European front and thrown into experienced combat units to take the place of the dead and wounded.
By some accounts, nearly half of the infantrymen who served in Europe were replacements, who often were left by veterans to fend for themselves on the battlefield. Many were injured in their first days in combat.
Sessions had difficulty remembering much beyond intense personal combat experiences. At first, I blamed his age and fading memory. But as the details of his story sharpened, it also became clear he couldn’t recount places he’d been, or even the names of fellow soldiers or his commanding officers, because he’d apparently never been told. He was simply sent into battle upon his arrival, one of dozens of replacements in his infantry company.
He served 13 days in combat before being wounded on Nov. 29, 1944, after crossing the German border with France. He earned a Purple Heart and would serve the remainder of the war in an Air Force unit in England with his older brother, Percy.
Nearly 70 years after the war, he was unreserved in his criticism of how he was treated as a young man in the 95th Infantry Division during and after the 1944 battle for the French city of Metz.
“I resented being subject to all this fire,” he said. “I’m still resentful of it.”
Credit: Jason Getz
Credit: Jason Getz
He was a plain-spoken Mississippi farm boy, drafted out of high school, and he reluctantly left home for the first time.
Independent-minded and blunt, his wife called him a classic “man of few words.”
He had a speech impediment as a boy, making him a reluctant speaker. But when offering his point, “he’d cut right to the heart” of an issue, she said.
He repeatedly refused to revisit the sites where he served, and never took part in military reunions.
“I have no desire, really,” he told me.
Sessions was born Sept. 5, 1925, in Neshoba County, Miss. He is survived by his wife of 50 years; two children, Sabrina Sessions Hodges of Charlotte and Joel Sessions of Douglasville; and two grandchildren.
After the war, Sessions earned bachelor and master’s degrees from the University of Southern Mississippi.
He entered the vocational rehabilitation field and later served in the Department of Health, Education and Welfare in Washington. He came to Atlanta as a health consultant in the U.S. Public Health Service and became deputy and acting health administrator. He retired in 1990.
He was drawn to his profession because of a desire to help others.
“He wanted people to be self-sufficient and not lean on a disability,” his wife said.
While he questioned the Army sending unprepared soldiers into battle, Sessions was unwavering in his support for the war.
“We couldn’t allow the Germans to rule the world,” he said. “Patriotism was important. It still is.”
