After his grandfather Silvio passes away, Mark Pedri is left with a house full of his things, which goes untouched for a while until he decides to sift through what’s there. He knew his grandfather, or at least knew him to be a miner who played the accordion and the man with whom he’d spend afternoons and evenings with. He knew he’d been in World War II but didn’t know much else. That is, until he found a letter of commendation for the Silver Star among his grandfather’s things along with several other mementos and items of importance from the war. Thus begins Dear Sirs where Pedri and his wife–the film’s producer, Christine McCarthy–set out on the journey to discover who this man was.

The journey they undertake begins in the grandfather’s house in Wyoming and by looking up the people in his company who had gone with him to basic training, and seemingly become friends with him as they all shipped out into the European theater. It then evolves into a literal journey: seeing that his grandfather not only fought on the French and German countryside but was held as a POW during the war until finally being freed in 1945, the couple bike the route his grandfather traveled during that time. It’s the middle of the winter in about 2019-2020 (the film came out in 2022) and along the way they detail what happened at each town or former prison they visit as well as how it ties into Sylvio’s story.

I found this documentary while scanning through offerings on Kanopy a while back and put it on my list to watch during November as I would be deep into #WarComicsMonth (which, anyway, was the plan). It’s a tight hour-long film of the “homemade” variety; in other words, it doesn’t follow a format or have the production sheen that a Netflix or Hulu doc might have. These sort of “personal” documentaries can be hit or miss. In some cases, they’re self-indulgent or trying to make a mountain out of a molehill of a story. In the case of Dear Sirs, that works in its favor because Pedri isn’t trying to make this movie more than it is or needs to be. He’s discovered something about his grandfather and seeks to delve into the story behind it, bringing us along for the ride. The people interviewed are family members–his father, uncles, etc.–who can only shed so much light on who Silvio was, which necessitates this journey through France and Germany.

When the undertake that, the bike trip doesn’t become distracting because he keeps the focus on his grandfather. In fact, I liked that they had to bike through rain and snow for most of the trip–not because I wanted to see them struggle, but because it helped get a picture of what the conditions the soldiers faced were really like. Pedri spends time on the history of each location they visit and employs some well-done animation to depict events that happened (or may have happened) based on what he can piece together.

The idea that his grandfather never talked about his experiences in the war is something I can relate to. My own grandfather served in World War II as a tail gunner on a B-17. I’ve seen some of the medals he had and have also seen his picture in the book Combat Crew, but beyond that, I don’t know anything else about his time during the war. I’ve always been kind of curious, but wouldn’t know where to start, considering that he’s been dead for more than 30 years and that war memorabilia is probably scattered among one or two of my relatives (since my grandparents’ house was sold something like 25 years ago). Pedri’s very personal story is an important one to tell, and not just for him, but for all of us. The Greatest Generation is starting to die off, and while we’ve had so many of their stories told, there are so many more that we need to preserve, especially since some of those stories are being forgotten and current generations are ignoring the lessons learned from the war and the values we fought for.

Watch or Skip?

Watch.