June 1969 | Volume 20, Issue 4 The G.I.’s were far more numerous
than any army that ever occupied Britain; none left so little
visible trace, none so touching a legacy A cold coming awaited
Melburn Henke in all respects but one. A leaden Irish sky, damp
air that mortified Hint mortified the flesh, a mournful horizon
of rusting cranes and dilapidated warehouses, channels of gray
water and drab groups of longshoremen—these made up Henke’s
landscape. He was wearing a steel helmet with a shallow crown
and a flat brim cocked somewhat rakishly over one eye; on his
back a regulation pack sat trim and heavy, a bayonet as long as
a sword strapped to it, and from his right shoulder hung an M-1
rifle no longer new. His expression was confident and,
considering the climate, happy. Those old enough to recall it
might have thought him every inch a doughboy en route for the
Argonne or Belleau Wood. Certainly there was something of
repetition about Pfc. Henke’s appearance that wintry morning,
for he was the first American so