The Greatest Generation was not given that name — they earned it.

The men and women of the World War II era got this nation through the most difficult of times and while doing it, they made us all very proud.

That’s why on this 75th anniversary of VJ-Day, we must remember them just a little more — we should remember them every day and we must never forget what they all did to make America great.

I’ve known a lot of these men and women — heroes all. They walk among us and they walk the halls of places like VA Hospitals.

Heroes all.

I knew one of these soldiers extremely well — my dad, William O’Boyle, who like so many, went off to war, never questioning why, to defend our country against oppression and tyranny.

My dad was on one of those landing boats at Northern France. At the age of 21. He ran off the boat onto a beach, ran up a hill to meet the enemy. He stepped on a land mine and lost his left leg.

Running off that landing boat, onto that beach, and up that hill was the last time my dad ran anywhere on two legs.

My dad came home and lived with honor his entire life.

He got a job, got married, had a son and he got involved with his community.

My dad never once asked, “Why me?”

He never questioned why he was sent off to war and why he ran into battle and why he lost his left leg.

Like all those Greatest Generation men and women, my dad knew his sacrifice, while significant, was not as great as so many others who knew going in that they may never return.

The Greatest Generation consists of patriots who never forgot those who went before and after them. They all knew the importance of serving their country — in doing their part to protect our freedom.

One thing I have struggled with most of my life is trying to put myself in my dad’s place — in the place of all those soldiers running into battle — even if just for a few moments.

What could it have been like for them?

They all knew where they were going and why they were going there. They also were well aware of the real possibility that they may not return home — that these moments before running off those landing boats and onto those beaches and up those hills could very well be the final moments of their all-too-short lives.

I wrote this last year on the anniversary of D-Day:

“Think about what it must have felt like to know that you may never return to your country, to your hometown, to your loved ones. That you may never marry, have children, hold a job, buy a new car, or have a beer with your pals at the local bar. That this day — this moment — might be your last day alive. That your next breath may be your last.

“That you may give your life for your country and all Americans back home.

“And that you were proud to be there and to have the opportunity to help preserve freedom.”

I get chills just thinking about it.

These were men and women of extraordinary character. They were brave. They were proud. They were determined.

And I am sure that somewhere deep down, they were scared. How could you not be?

These brave soldiers knew that the enemy had to be defeated, and they were willing to give their lives if that was what it would take to keep America free.

Sadly, we are losing these heroes. Most are in their 90s and in failing health. They have fought the good battle. They went to war, came home and re-started their lives.

They came home, went to work, got married, had children and got involved in their communities.

After doing their part to preserve our freedom, they returned home to re-build our country.

When you see them, thank them for their service. Talk to them, ask them questions. Let them know how much you appreciate all they did for you.

We really can not ever forget these heroes. Nor should we.

We are who we are and we have what we have because of them. They are heroes of war, role models, examples of all that is good.

And in the decades after World War II, we have sent many more of our young people off to war and they, too, have fought back the enemy. They have made us proud.

And many never returned. Many returned wearing the scars of war, both visible and invisible to the naked eye.

War is always hell. War always has a heavy price.

Heroes all, they are.

God bless all veterans and God bless America.