When Sgt. Norvell M. Langhorne Jr. was honorably discharged from the U.S. Army 66 years ago, after three campaigns in World War II, he left without something.
On Friday, Sen. Mark R. Warner, D-Va., brought it to him.
Surrounded by his family at the Virginia War Memorial, Langhorne, 87, was belatedly awarded the Bronze Star Medal for his 11-month tour of duty taking him through France and into Germany at the height of the conflict.
"When I think of all my comrades who didn't make it, it's quite an honor to represent them, and I dedicate it to their memory," Langhorne said.
As Maj. Gen. George Patton plowed through France in late 1944, Langhorne, a Richmond native with the 95th Infantry Division, volunteered for an unusual assignment.
As lead driver for the Red Ball Express, Langhorne learned that he would be driving a jeep at the head of a convoy bringing fuel to Patton's front lines under cover of darkness — and with no headlights.
"I noticed on the front of the jeep, there was a bar on the front bumper sitting straight up," Langhorne recalled. When he asked what it was for, Langhorne was informed that the Germans were fond of tying piano wire across the narrow, tree-lined French highways.
"I never did get decapitated, but that was interesting," Langhorne said with a laugh. "You really didn't even have time to think about those things. It was like walking in the dark. You were just there to do your duty — duty came first."
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Langhorne grew up in Richmond, joining the Cadet Corps at John Marshall High School before he was inducted into the Army at age 19.
Two months before going overseas and "much to the chagrin of our families," Langhorne said smiling, he secured a five-day pass to travel back home to Richmond to marry his sweetheart, Alice.
"I thought, 'My golly, if I want to keep Alice, I better marry her,'" he said. "She was such a sweet girl; I didn't want someone else to snatch her away."
On Monday, the couple celebrated their 67th wedding anniversary. "Now that's some history, man," he said with a laugh.
In 1944, months after the D-Day invasion, Langhorne and his division arrived in Normandy and soon joined the fray farther inland.
Spry and sharp, Langhorne vividly recalls being stuck in a trench with German prisoners, bombs falling around them.
"I guess they were about as scared as we were," he said. "They didn't try to escape, that's for sure."
Langhorne said that in slower moments, his division had its run of abandoned French villages that the war had ripped through. On one such occasion, he and other soldiers bedded for the night in the basement of a large building only to awake and realize that they were sleeping atop boxes filled with German ammunition.
"I remember one day, the colonel asked me to go out with him. I found out what he wanted me to do was to walk 25 paces ahead of him up the street. I knew what that meant: I was the sharpshooters' target," he said with a laugh. "I didn't think twice about it then, but that was an unusual assignment."
"They call them the good old days," Alice said with a laugh, shaking her head.
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When Langhorne returned from the war in late 1945, he was quick to put it behind him, embarking on a 41-year career with Atlantic Coast Line Railroad, now CSX Transportation, and focusing on his family.
The Langhornes, who have three children, four grandchildren and three great-grandchildren, left Richmond in 1948, living in four states before returning home in 2004. They currently reside in Bon Air and stay active every day, exercising together.
Until recently, Langhorne has never talked about the war with his family, even Alice.
"It's the trauma, I guess," he explained. "It's just so unreal. You see all these blown-up men on the ground — it's just terrible."
Months ago, while helping Langhorne apply for benefits from the Department of Veterans Affairs, Roger Sullivan, a retired veterans service officer, realized Langhorne was due the Bronze Star.
"I knew nothing about it," Langhorne said nonchalantly.
Langhorne's daughter, Janet Langhorne, gradually persuaded her father to open up about his experiences and, with the help of Sullivan and Warner's office, got the ball rolling.
Ever stoic, Langhorne had little to say about himself Friday, choosing instead to recognize his family. Warner made it easier on him.
"My understanding is that Mr. Langhorne has been somewhat embarrassed and even a little bit reluctant to receive this recognition," Warner said. "But while we celebrate Mr. Langhorne, we not only celebrate him, but we celebrate so many others of that Greatest Generation who unfortunately every day are leaving us."
Alice, 89, said she was proud to see her husband honored, but more than anything else, felt fortunate to have him.
"I think that every single one of them that went into service has something to be proud of," she said. "They didn't do it because they wanted to, and we didn't want them to. But my family worked out nicely. I'm very lucky."
Langhorne said he felt the same.
"Somebody had a purpose for me, I guess," he said. "My purpose now is to take care of Alice. She doesn't think so, but that's quite a purpose."

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