It was Christmastime, 2010, in Billings, Montana, when my father-in-law handed me a shoebox. Its contents, unknown to me at the time, sparked a curiosity, an adventure, a challenge. Inside were stacks and stacks of letters. That day I learned of a man named Sonnie Rockford, my wife's great-uncle who was a paratrooper in World War II. Sonnie was assigned to the 82nd Airborne Division, 505th Parachute Infantry Regiment (H-Minus), 1st Battalion, Company C. He served for over 2 years, visited at least 6 countries, and survived 4 combat jumps. This is Sonnie's story.
It was Christmastime, 2010, in Billings, Montana, when my father-in-law handed me a shoebox. Its contents, unknown to me at the time, sparked a curiosity, an adventure, a challenge. Inside were stacks and stacks of letters. That day I learned of a man named Sonnie Rockford, my wife's great-uncle who was a paratrooper in World War II. Sonnie was assigned to the 82nd Airborne Division, 505th Parachute Infantry Regiment (H-Minus), 1st Battalion, Company C. He served for over 2 years, visited at least 6 countries, and survived 4 combat jumps. This is Sonnie's story.
