Lewis Levine

Columnist

The other day I was watching the movie “Patton.” for those of you who haven’t seen it, it’s a classic starring George C. Scott as Gen. George S. Patton.

One of the standout stars in the movie is Karl Malden portraying Gen. Omar Bradley, who at times became Patton’s subordinate and also his boss. I bring up the movie because as I get up in years, lately I’ve been thinking about regrets I have had in my life, and once having a chance as a young sergeant stationed at Fort Hamilton in Brooklyn in the late ’70s and early ’80s to spend an afternoon with General of the Army Omar Bradley, who was the last living five-star general.

Let me give you the back story: I had learned through the grapevine that Gen Bradley was visiting the tiny installation under the Verrazano Bridge and staying in the base’s VIP quarters. Now, I’m going to be honest - I had no idea of the general’s accomplishments during World War II and after. I just knew the name and that he was the last living five-star general, that was enough for me. I can’t remember how I went about it, I mean, come on, it was nearly 50 years ago and there are days I don’t remember what I ate for breakfast.

Anyway, I somehow reached the right people who were able to set up a meeting between myself and the general.

I remember this much the meeting took place around noon, I was to report to the installation’s VIP quarters, where I knocked on the door and an aide greeted me.

I was just getting into honing my photographic skills and had my 35mm film camera with me.

With camera strapped around my neck and butterflies in my stomach, I was ushered into the living room where this powerful historic figure sat in a wheelchair. I recall telling the general what an honor it was to meet him, and to be frank it was.

Bradley said something back I could not make out; I just know his voice was very frail.

I stayed there maybe for five minutes or less chatting it up till his aide said they were getting ready to leave for the Yonkers racetrack and asked if I wanted to join them. Unfortunately, I had cleared none of this with my supervisor and respectfully declined. I did take several photos of him while visiting, which didn’t come out, to my surprise, except one I captured as he was being wheeled in the parking lot to a waiting vehicle.

After leaving, I didn’t give the visitor much thought till years later as my interest in WWII grew and the movie became critically acclaimed that I learned of his role in winning the war that changed the world.

I regret now that my younger me didn’t take the opportunity to spend the day with this historical giant, but I have the one photo of him that did come out to remember a day I should have kicked myself in the pants and spend the day with the man who helped ensure the freedom of millions.