LIKE MANY others in the region, I was sad this week to note the recent passing of Stafford County's Sam Simpson.

After a 30-year career in the Navy, the Hartwood native worked for years at Mary Washington College and also managed his own nursery in Stafford.

I met Simpson a few years back, when I interviewed him about his experiences in World War II. He'd been a crew member of a submarine, the Perch, that was damaged and eventually sunk after being depth-charged.

Forced to flee the sub without even his shoes, Simpson was picked up by a Japanese ship and spent three years in an island prison camp.

Over the course of a long afternoon, Simpson shared details of that hellish incarceration. The camp was a nightmare, from starvation rations to daily beatings and stark sleeping quarters foul with bugs.

My purpose today isn't to retell Simpson's story or to underscore the debt to him that this country never could fully repay.

When I read about Simpson's passing, I thought of how typical he was of the many World War II vets I've met over the years.

Answering their country's call, these men all faced horrible conditions and dangers but performed bravely in theaters of war that ranged from submarines to bombers, PT boats to tanks and infantry units.

And when it was over, most of these citizen soldiers came home and went back to the lives they'd left behind, unwilling or unable to talk about it with anyone other than fellow vets.

Lake of the Woods resident Joseph Argenzio talked a few years back about his memories of hitting the beach at Normandy at the age of 16. It was gripping to hear how half the men on his landing craft were mowed down when its ramp swung down.

Had a savvy sergeant not shoved the green infantryman to the rear of the boat, he wouldn't have been around to talk of that day.

At the end of the interview, Argenzio's wife pulled me aside and quietly said it was the first time she'd heard most of that.