Raymond Aubrac, French Resistance leader, dies at 97. Raymond Aubrac, a French Resistance leader who escaped Gestapo torturers with help from his pregnant wife an episode that became one of the most celebrated triumphs of the underground and also an enduring love story of World War II, died April 10 at a hospital in Paris. The couples wartime exploits replete with sabotage and danger, sex and a shoot-out made good movie material. For more information please click here. http://www.washingtonpost.com/world/europe/raymond-aubrac-french-resistance-leader-dies-at-97/2012/04/12/gIQAeI6uDT_story.html?sub=AR
Joseph L. Stephenson, decorated World War II Army officer, Prince Georges teacher and coach, dies at 93. A decorated Army captain, Stepehnson who retired in 1962 and then spent 20 years as a social studies and history teacher in Prince Georges County Public Schools. After joining the Army in 1942, Capt. Stephenson served in Europe during World War II in the all-black 92nd Infantry Division, which saw much combat and had high casualty rates. During the Korean War, Capt. Stephenson was company commander of an early integrated unit. He received the Silver Star in 1952 for his actions during the Battle of Triangle Hill. For more information, see http://www.washingtonpost.com/local/obituaries/joseph-l-stephenson-decorated-world-war-ii-army-officer-prince-georges-teacher-and-coach-dies-at-93/2012/03/20/gIQAByJ9TS_story.html.
William R. Charette, Medal of Honor recipient, dies at 79. William R. Charette, a Navy corpsman who received the Medal of Honor during the Korean War for jumping on top of a wounded Marine to protect him from the blast of a nearby grenade, died March 18 at his home in Lake Wales, Fla. He was 79. For the full story, see http://www.washingtonpost.com/local/obituaries/2012/03/20/gIQAuOIbQS_story.html.
George Kerchner, Army Ranger who led D-Day attack on German gun positions at Point du Hoc, dies at 93. George Kerchner, a junior officer who led his Army Ranger company up the Pointe du Hoc cliffs during the Normandy invasion and who managed to silence German big guns that threatened the success of the D-Day landings, died Feb. 17 at his home in Midlothian, Va. He was 93. For the full story of his incredible mission, see http://www.washingtonpost.com/local/obituaries/george-kerchner-army-ranger-who-led-d-day-attack-on-german-gun-positions-dies-at-93/2012/03/12/gIQAfmqP8R_story.html
Decorated World War II vet who later fought for right to fly U.S. flag at home in Va. dies at 92. A World War II Medal of Honor winner who later made headlines for his fight to fly an American flag in his Virginia front yard, has died. Retired Army Col. Van Thomas Barfoot was 92.
Warren A. "Andy" Skon, 92, a retired Navy captain who was an ace fighter pilot in the Pacific theater during World War II, died Jan. 19 at his home in McLean. 
J. Cameron Wade, who was among the first African American soldiers to integrate Army combat units during World War II, died Jan. 18 at the Kensington Park assisted living facility in Kensington. He was 87. 
Lynn D. "Buck" Compton, an Army paratrooper whose World War II service was portrayed in the book and HBO miniseries "Band of Brothers" and who later as a prosecutor secured a conviction of Robert F. Kennedy assassin Sirhan Sirhan, died Feb. 26 at his home in Burlington, Wash. He was 90
John F. Baker Jr., a retired Army master sergeant who was awarded the Medal of Honor during the Vietnam War for rescuing wounded soldiers from an ambush and leading a daring counterassault, died Jan. 20 at a hospital in Columbia, S.C. He was 66. 
She earned decorations from the British, French and American governments; she was belatedly honored in Australia, where she had grown up. Exact figures are hard to establish, but she was reported to have helped save many hundreds of lives.
From 1969 to 1972, he was director of the National Security Agency, the country's code-making and code-breaking apparatus based at Fort Meade.
At the time, the Japanese occupied much of the jungle and mountain territory in Burma and were advancing toward India.
He charged into the open field, sliding across the icy clearing, which had been blanketed the night before with three inches of wet snow.
As time thinned the ranks of those long-ago U.S. veterans, the nation hardly noticed them vanishing, until the roster dwindled to one ex-soldier, embraced in his final years by an appreciative public. 
Before World War II, military divers wore clunky metal helmets that pumped breathable air through hoses tethered to boats on the water's surface. 
Leaving the Hornet culminated months of planning on behalf of the military, which had sought to retaliate against the Japanese for the Dec. 7, 1941, Pearl Harbor attack. 
The Patriot-News in central Pennsylvania reported that Maj. Winters, a longtime Hershey resident, died at an assisted-living facility in nearby Campbelltown. 
For millions of Americans throughout the decades since World War II, the stunning brunette in the red and white polka-dot bandanna was Rosie the Riveter. 
When the student made it back to the United States, the story of his safe return made national headlines. His autobiographical account of the trip appeared in Life magazine and vividly portrayed his harrowing tale of survival. 
Before he turned 23 in 1941, Mr. Feller - nicknamed "Rapid Robert" - had 107 victories and was well on his way to being one of the most dominant pitchers in history. With his overpowering fastball and knee-buckling curveball, he had led the American League in strikeouts four times and in earned run average once. 
Mr. Feller made his first official big-league appearance July 19, 1936, pitching one inning of scoreless relief at Washington's Griffith Stadium against the Senators. Less than two months later, on Sept. 13 against the Philadelphia Athletics, he equaled the major-league record of 17 strikeouts in a game. 
Mrs. Boylan said that having experience in the cockpit of such a wide variety of aircraft had its advantages - sometimes to the embarrassment of her male colleagues. 
After the squad advanced and formed a perimeter around one injured soldier, the squad realized their point man, Sgt. Joshua Brennan, was missing. "Sal sprinted ahead, at every step meeting relentless enemy fire with his own. He crested a hill alone with no cover at dusk," Obama said.
The fire lasted 10 hours. Most of the victims were in the carrier's hangar, just below the flight deck. 
Much of the world Tyler knew is gone. The closest relatives present were his nephews, Russell and Richard Wayne Gordy of Calvert County, now both in their 70s. 
While trekking through thick vegetation, the company's front column was hit with heavy fire and the rear platoon was surprised from behind. 
A Native American code talker from World War II, Wolf Guts helped defeat Axis forces by transmitting strategic military messages in his native language, which the Japanese and Germans couldn't translate.
His fellow Chosin soldiers -- poorly trained, ill-equipped and outnumbered 8-1 -- were cut off from a larger Marine force on the west side of the reservoir near Hagaru-ri. 
On May 21, 1966, then-Spec. 4th Class Dolby was in the middle of his first tour in Vietnam. He was part of a 1st Cavalry Division platoon on a mission near An Khe when the men walked into an ambush. 
In April 1945, then-2nd Lt. Baker was one of the few black officers serving in the segregated 92nd Infantry Division near the northern Italian village of Viareggio. 
"We thought it was a sacrosanct place," said his wife, Judé McLaughlin. "I can't believe they'd be so cavalier with such an important thing." 
"We didn't know we were making history in those days,'' said his fellow Tuskegee Airman Dr. Harold May on Tuesday outside Trinity Church in Boston, where five Tuskegee Airman attended Mr. McLaurin's funeral.
("They better not have had any biases like that," he says now. "They'd have gotten their [rear ends] kicked.") 
Finn was the oldest of 97 Medal of Honor recipients from World War II still living. He died at a nursing home for veterans in Chula Vista, outside San Diego, according to a Navy statement. 
Finn, who enlisted in the Navy just before his 17th birthday, received the Medal of Honor on Sept. 15, 1942. 
Dad had been involved in radio as an announcer and entertainer virtually since the beginning of the medium, as early as the mid-1920s. By the mid-1930s, he was the promotion and publicity director of WNJO in West Palm Beach, Florida and later of WRBL in Columbus, Georgia. The beginning of the war found him in Columbus, GA just outside Fort Benning, a major training facility for infantry, airborne, and other combat troops. From about March 1941 until May 1942, Dad was a member of the Columbus, Georgia Defense Service Council and Camp Services Committee at Fort Benning as civilian coordinator of entertainment for troops. From May 1942-March 1943, he worked fulltime as WRBL's Director, Soldier and Civilian Morale Department, producing, directing, announcing and sometimes acting in theatrical performances and coordinating other entertainment for the troops.
Mr. Uhl, 92, died May 9 at an assisted living facility in Easton, Md., of complications from a stroke. 
The officer who oversaw the Aberdeen demonstration in 1942 was credited with bestowing on the launcher its enduring nickname. He remarked at the time that Mr. Uhl's launcher resembled comedian Bob Burns's tubular musical instrument, called the "Bazooka." 
Ms. Kamenshek was only 17 when she joined the Rockford, Ill., team in 1943, the first year of the All-American Girls Professional Baseball League. Chicago Cubs owner and chewing gum magnate Philip K. Wrigley established the league to keep baseball before the public eye when male ballplayers were drafted into the military during World War II. 
While serving in the Army Air Forces during World War II, Col. Mahurin flew the P-47 Thunderbolt, a propeller-driven plane equipped with eight 50-caliber machine guns. He used them to devastating effect against the German Luftwaffe. 
Col. Grimes later learned that four of his crewmen were killed in action, but five had survived the crash. "You never stop thinking about it," he said in a 2004 interview. "In my mind, I'm back in the cockpit, left seat, looking at the controls, and I'm dodging and diving around the Nazi fighters, trying to make it to a cloud bank. And I look for every option, but I never come up with anything to save us." 
Mr. Escalante pioneered the use of Advanced Placement, a program of college-level courses and tests designed for high-achieving private schools, to raise standards in average and below-average public schools. His success at Garfield High School, where 85 percent of the students were low-income and few parents had more than a sixth-grade education, suggested that more time and encouragement for learning could trump educational disadvantages. 
Once Mr. Escalante became a national celebrity, rubbing shoulders with Arnold Schwarzenegger and James Cameron on his own PBS series on careers for students who applied themselves in school, he faced resentment from other Garfield teachers. He was quick to tell Principal Henry Gradillas about colleagues selling real estate in the teachers lounge or calling in sick to get a head start on their weekend. He was painfully blunt about the flaws in the teaching methods of other teachers in the math department, which he chaired. 
He disobeyed the orders and instead blew up his own explosives cache and went into hiding. (Much like Dietrich von Choltitz, the German general who refused Hitler's orders to burn Paris.)
Mostly, the Kreisau Circle used its several wartime summits at the von Moltkes' home to map out the democratic Germany they thought would follow the collapse of Nazism. Few in the group lived to see the end of the war, the others having been rounded up and killed. 
Sgt. Howard took charge of the battered platoon and helped organize the overpowered and outnumbered troops into defensive emplacements along a ravine. Sgt. Howard crawled from position to position, resupplying his men with ammunition and directing fire toward the encircling enemy while radioing in fire support from airborne gunships. 
The girls who loved Anne Frank wanted to understand what she went through, in whatever small ways they could. They were prone to melancholy and morbidity; they couldn't believe the atrocities that had happened in their parents' or grandparents' lifetimes. 