Stories of Our Fathers

[S1U663R 471]

Nuke test ?

 i do know they detonated a lot of nukes in the ocean during the 50s-60s

bikini atoll and such 

[Isamu_Shosa 248]

My grandfather wasn't old enough when the war broke out.  By the time he became a US Marine, it was already 1944.  He arrived on Iwo Jima on the third day of the battle.  He was an infantryman, and was the squad BAR (Browning Automatic Rifle) gunner, a .30-06 caliber light machine gun (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Browning_Automatic_Rifle). He went on to fight on Okinawa, and would have been in one of the first waves landing in the planned invasion of Kyushu.  He never really spoke about it much at all, either to my father, or to me.

 

After the war, he came back, and served in the Marine Corps Reserves, and volunteered when the Korean War broke out, winding up at a little place called Lake Changjin, better known as the Chosin resevoir.  He only spoke to me about this, once; something my father later told me (with an astonished look) was exactly one more time than my grandfather had ever said anything of it to him. He talked about how the attacking Chinese soldiers just kept coming, and coming, until the bodies were stacked so high that they were used for cover.  He was one of only two survivors, out of his entire platoon. He also spoke about the later evacuation from the port of Hungnam, about how he could never believe there was anything to Communism after seeing just how desperate all the people there were to escape on any boat they could get on.  He spent the rest of the war recuperating in a hospital in Japan.

[LeLavish 40]

My grandfather passed away before I was old enough to know him, so I don't have any particular stories about him. However, he served as a lieutenant in the Commonwealth forces during WWII. He was part of Force 136 and one of the indigenous officers that operated Force 136's branch in British Malaya. After Japan conquered Singapore, he was the leading officer in the anti-Japanese resistance movement, basing himself in the Malayan jungles. I'm really proud that he is considered a war hero and is really respected in modern-day Singapore; my talk-active mother brought it up with a tour guide while we were visiting the country, right after we went to the museum on Sentosa Island (where a picture of him decorates the Force 136 exhibit), and I was speechless at the tour guide's respectful announcement to the entire tour group of our ancestry.

Edited December 8, 2014 by LeLavish

[PorcoRosso86 569]

My family has participated in all the two world wars.

My great grandfather fought against Austro-Hungarian empire during the First World War. Recruited on 1917, has partecipated on principal battles on the end of the war, until the battle of Vittorio Veneto.

His brother has die during the First Battle of Isonzo, and now is buried on monumental graveyard of Redipuglia.

 

ùù

 

 

During the WW2, my greatuncle had boarded the battleship "Roma". The 9th September 1943, survived on the sunk of Roma because they arrive late for boarding in La Spezia, and was captured by the Germans .. So he saved and survived the war.

 

 

His Brother, instead, partecipate on "liberation war" in Italy as Socialist Partisan in Veneto Region.

[r0lt0ns 2,444]

My grand-grand father fought the Great War in Russian Army the early stages of the war because he wasn't in Latvian Riflemen batallion. The Latvian Riflemen were a part from Russian Army in the Great War and after the Great War along side with Estonian and Lithuanian army fought for the independence of Baltic States (Starting from top: Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania). I don't really know exactly where he fought, but as far as I know he got captured by Germans. He managed to escape from P.O.W. camp, but got re-captured. He met a wine-maker (not sure if that's correct word, but whatever) who said that it was stupid to escape from it because in the second time he would be shot on the spot. Of course everyone would try to escape, but since the war was closing to end, there was no real reason to try something like that. There he learnt how to make wine and he died in age of 96 in Latvia. Since I heard this story from my grandmother I can't search for any information about my grand-grand father because he died about when my grandmother was ~9..

 

And my grand-grand-grand father fought the Second World War in Latvia. I'm not sure on wich side he fought, but it's more likely that he was in USSR Army. Since I'm not sure and my grand-grandmother is still alive in age of 91 I should better ask her otherwise that information will be gone forever and that's the thing I wouldn't like to experience.

 

Father. My father was conscripted by USSR army and served behind the Arctic Circle in an aerodrome in some garage where he had to do some stuff with aircraft parts. I'm not sure what he did there because he doesn't tell me. I think it's because it was not pleasent time in his life so that's all the information I have squeezed out from him :D

 

My grandmother. She fought for independent Latvia by searching Soviet bunkers under the ground (she's a psychic) and she found an enitre hospital about 12 stories under the ground. In her childhood she helped the "Forest brothers" or the guerilla batallions which fought against Soviet regime up until 1953. Some books say that latvian men fought the guerilla war the longest in the world altough there was some more resistance from Lithuanian brothers. What she did was supporting them - giving food and perhaps some domestic stuff. She told that NKVD (anti-intelligence bireau) visits was nothing unusual but they were told to hold their mouths and nobody hasn't seen anything.

 

It's so interesting stuff but too bad we can't wake the dead and ask their story.

:salute:

[neutrino109 4,485]

My Grandpa passed away before I was born, so sadly no accounts. All I know is that he served under Mao Zhedong during the Chinese Civil War, the Long March (he was too poor to know his age, but he was about 16 at the time maybe). He was one of the few to survive the entire ordeal first step to last step, often being forced to eat bugs or bark or leather.  :salute:

[PredalienPlush 1,063]

I don't have a long and detailed story like anyone else, but my mother's uncle was a dorsal gunner on a B-17 and served over Romania during the Ploesti raids in 1944. Apparently he didn't talk about it much, and I don't know if he ever saw actual live combat, but he was a very good marksman and sport shooter. That's about it.

[_SPECTER__ 472]

My Great Grandfather was in the 77th Infantry on Okinawa, He was in the thick of it, Shuri line, but most interesting story i heard was how he was oneof the last people to see war correspondent Ernie Pyle alive. They were on the island of Ie Shima right next to Okinawa itself, and they were manning a checkpoint, my Grandad, as the Officer in command of the checkpoint, had been taking sporadic fire from a Japanese MG nest or sniper, he didnt know for sure. Then, a Jeep with Ernie Pyle and another officer pulls up and asks to go through, he told them they would need to wait until they had cleared the area but they ignored him and drove on. Minutes later they heard gunfire, and later they went and checked. Sure enough, everyone in the jeep was dead.

[Ike123 9,937]

My great great uncle(I think) served in ww2. He was scouting ahead of his unit, when he heard a gunshot. He got back to his unit and took off his helmet. It was uncomfortable, and sat too high on his head. There was a bullet hole in it

[Ike123 9,937]

My cousin was a captain in the Marines, he was stationed in north Africa and says once it got so hot, that camel poop caught on fire. He also went to camp victory, and the palace there[attachment=124105:FB_20141113_19_08_46_Saved_Picture.jpg]

[CoffeeHound 3]

Thank you for starting this topic!

 

I've got a few, but I'll stick with relatives, for now.

 

My family had people who fought on both sides of the American Civil War.  One of the relatives on the Union side lead a unit that ambushed some Confederate soldiers.  The Reb captain's coat had nearly 300 CSA dollars in the pockets, along with indications that it was to be that unit's payroll.  My dad has these old bank notes in a safety deposit box.

 

My Dad's older cousin joined the US Army in late '44, and ended up on a troop ship headed towards Japan for the invasion of the home islands.  The Japanese surrender occurred before they were half way across the Pacific.

 

My Grandfather's brother joined the US army before WWII, and served as a veterinarian with 10th Mountain Division.  Later, he was told that he was to train as a medic, and after training, ended up in 3rd Army.  I believe that he helped take care of the former prisoners at Buchenwald, after it was liberated.

 

My Dad joined the US Army after college, shortly after the Korean War.  (Did you know that at that time, the Class A uniform had a cravat, rather than a tie??)  He served as a cryptographer, and was stationed in Ethiopia, and while he was stationed there, took the opportunity to go on a tour of the Holy Land.

 

As for myself, I was never able to join up, as I was born with Spina Bifida.  The Navy, Army and National Guard recruiters simply said "nope." 

[MattCoast 72]

My both grandfathers was a war veterans here in Finland. But never got a chance to talk those days. My mothers side grandfather died in 1979 when I was just half year old. And father side was just too badly traumaticed that I never had the courage to ask.

But what I know now that my mothers side grandfather was Pvt.1class and he was infantry man. He had some awarded medals for bravery and he was fighting at Karelian Isthmus in continious war. Had some fighting in big conclusive battles. Never got wounded or a scratch!

My father side grandfather fought in winter war and continious war. In winter war he was in the only division that had orders to take full scale assault at the place called Tolvajärvi. In continious war he was at rank Sgt and was selected to long range scouts because at his backrounds. When he was a kid he was at the boys scout and was very good at sports. He even talked Russia (never know that) quite well! When war ended he had 13 long missions credited. Rank at sergeant major who had taken shots in 18 times and hospitalised in 3 times when allmos lost his life! At the hospital he met my grandmother when she worked there! What I have read about my grandfather squad he was good and fearless submachine gunner and liked by hes mates.

When war ended he was badly crippled farmer but a sports man in hes bloods! He was a starter at athletic team in the village called Kuorevesi and was even running the olympic torch in 1952 in borders of our county! When I was a little I remember that in summer times when thunderstorms came he went little nuts. Thats why I never did spoke those war stories with him!

When He died 1995 my father and uncle found hidden weapon cache at the barnhouse. There was my gradfathers working tools, medals an suveniers! Suomi konepistooli (submachine gun) M/31 with 5 drum clips! 700 rounds for that and 10 hand granades. And all was in good shape and working!

That Suomi submachine gun is mine now and deactivated! When I was in army 1998 I had a dream to take military carreer. But it went to backround. Still I desided to take it very seriously! I was in a good shape and weight some 90kg when it started but when 1 year service ended I had lost over30kg at there!! Edited July 8, 2015 by MattCoast

[Zomby_Woof 16]

My family story doesn't contain much blood or glory, but is an interesting perspective on the various ways conflict affects people. 

 

My maternal grandmother was born near Danzig to Swiss farmers. Around mid 1944 she gave birth to a baby (my uncle), who's father was a Luftwaffe pilot since lost in action. When the Russians advanced through Poland, the family joined the refugee train along with thousands of others fleeing. The route was haphazard , attacks and counter attacks meant that one day the refugee's would be behind German Army lines, the next behind Red Army lines. They were strafed constantly by both sides, many refugees being killed.  While holding Swiss passports helped negotiate easily with the Germans, the Russians were more problematic. The baby had 'German' papers and was kept hidden and quiet as discovery of a Luftwaffe pilots child would have resulted in them being shot.  Luckily , most of the Russian soldiers and officers mistook the Swiss emblem on the passport to mean Red Cross and let them pass. They reached Switzerland in July 1945, nearly a year after they left. She's now 96 years old and still going strong. 

 

My maternal grandfather was born in Italy and was an anti-facist, being arrested twice but allowed to escape by sympathisers in the local police. He eventually joined the Italian Resistance with two of his Brothers, fighting German / Fascist units from their Alpine hideouts, disrupting communications and running arms to other resistance units. His specialist trade was as a cobbler, and he would repair the boots of his comrades by candlelight while in a cave or bivouac. At the close of the war, they used the old smugglers tunnels dug through the mountains to reach Switzerland where the surviving brothers settled for life. 

 

Finally, my paternal Great Uncle, was originally a doctor from Ireland but joined the British Army Medical Corps in 1941, serving in North Africa and Europe. He never saw front line action, but witnessed the aftermath of battle. When the concentration camp of Belsen-Bergen was liberated , he was part of the first medical unit and the first British medical officer sent in to assess and treat the victims . What he witnessed there effected him deeply, and he was apparently a very different person when he was discharged and returned to Ireland some years after the war. To his dying day , he refused to ever speak about his experiences. 

[Petranera 340]

Nice and very intersting topic to undig our families memories.

 

As every french families my great-grand fathers fought during the WW1, and their sons during the WW2, two generations hit by those terrible wars.

 

One of my great grand father died early in december 1914, at Notre-Dame de Laurette, his son, my grand-father, a teatcher in the north of France, served as lieutnant in the french army in 39/40 and was prisoner of war. Today I will tell what I know about his story.

 

After few attempt to escape from his camp he succeed in a funny way : working as prisonner in a beet field, as many other prisonners, he digged several field with is tools the first day without looking back, never going back, hidding at night in the woods. The day after that he continued to dig in the next field where other prisoners were working, following is way to his home, and day after day using the same method, in something like three weeks, he successfuly reach France. German guards never suspect him as he was working with a POW shirt. Once in France that was easy to change his clothes and go to his home where is family still were... but also the germans. As a teatcher, he was living on the left side of the "mairie", the town hall, and germans occupation soldiers choose the right side of the building as komandantur, but germans never checked is identity.

 

During the rest of the war, him and my grand-mother helped several RAF pilots shot down in the region, hidding them in the shelter, back of the komandantur, and give them the money and ration tickets to go back in England. One time, when some RAF pilots were hidden in the shelter, an old german sergeant, eastern front vet, came to my grand-father and said to him :

 

"Be more discret sir, the officers could see what you are doing there, and they are not all good people"...

 

I recently talked about this period with my grand-mother, and she told me that those germans were very polite and nice, even if they were sometimes upset earing her playing the Marseillaise with the piano, or the day when, pissed of by the occupation, she closed with a key from the exterior the toilets in the garden were was doing his business an officer with "red neckband" on his uniform...

 

She also said that she was almost raped by american soldiers in the liberation, saved in time by the Military Police.

 

After the war, the postgirl of the place, who were intercepting letters for the resistance, forein student of my grand-father, give him this denouncement letter, intercepted in his way to the komandantur :

 

 

That say

 

"Sir and dear commander

 

Hi have to advise you about two persons affecting the national security, they are [Cutted names for safety]

Those subjects had the boldness to give help to two english pilots, giving them necessary ration tickets and money for their escape.

I trust you for doing the necessary.

I will give you my identtity when you will have do the necessary against those two persons.

 

One from the LVF [French League against Bolchevism]

 

A good french from the new Europe"

 

 

 

Good germans, bad french, good french, bad americans, bad germans... One conclusion to this story : no matter from wich side you're forced (or not) to serve, there are good and bad people. From wich category are you ? And your neighbour ?

 

Anyway. I still have at home parts of the Hurricane Mark 1 of one of those brit pilots. Two of them came back in my grand-parents place in the nineties to thanks them for their help. I also have plenty of german military stuff and pictures from the east front who come from this house. I have even more WW2 stuff from the house where I grow up, a resistance QG during the WW2, but this is another story.

[Italianplayer 1,666]

As far as i know none of my family served army in war time, but my grand-grandfather was in the Italian resistance. He helped some Russian prisoner to escape and regroup with the rebel brigades. One of them, after the fall of Berlin returned in Italy to see him. Unfortunately he was dead. Whatever he met my family, and he talked about his life in the URSS. Till the dead of Stalin he stayed in a prison camp beacouse was catch, and after he lived all the communism in extreme poverty. He could've believe that in Italy still someone followed communist idea

[buzbuz33 25]

My Dad flew in B-29s during the war.  His cousin was a paratrooper with the 101st Airborne.  He was killed in his first combat action - Operation Marketgarden - just a few days shy of his 19th birthday.  He is buried at Margraten cemetery.  Since he was an only child and had no children of his own, he was mostly forgotten by our family.  However, I was surprised to find that the people of the Netherlands have been extremely diligent about honoring his memory and those of his comrades who are buried with him.  Every year, his grave is decorated and many people from the area have asked for information about him.  I simply wanted to take this opportunity to thank them and everyone who takes the time to remember and to honor our veterans.

[Luci_Smecheru 7]

My dad was a border guard during the communist regime in Romania(he is a retired officer if i do remember).Ummm stories from him aren't too extreme(he was a cook also and he is cooking very good)

My grandfather died when my dad was little because lightning stroke a shed in which my dad and an uncle were hiding from the rain and then my great-grandfather took care of my dad and his brothers.

My dad's uncle died in 1941 is Yugoslavia(I do not know to this day why,dad does not know too)

And other family members served in the army,though most were serving during the Cold War.

[Howling_Wolf574 5]

As the stories commonly go,


My late grandfather was a navigator during WW2 on board a Catalina (I'm not certain of the particular model, but it could only land on water to the best of our knowledge). One day he was returning from a mission over Borneo. When the Catalina's would come into land at Darling Harbor, there were often crocs following in the wake of the planes. On this day an officer was at the door, he slipped and fell out They waited a few moments thinking that he was just fooling around or something before checking and seeing that he had fallen off the plane. And as most horror stories go well....


 They never found his body....

[trooper_MNG 4]

Hi guys! First post for me, I'm visiting the forum for the first time and I can't help not writing my story!
I'm talking about my italian grandfather (my dad's dad), who served during WW2. Born in 1922, he voluntarily enlisted in 1940, as soon as the war started (18 years old just for a couple of days). At that time he was studying in a polytechnic school, and joined the Regia Aeronautica (Italian Royal Air Force). His father (my great grandfather) was in fact a bomber pilot during WW1, flying the Caproni Ca. 33. He studied for about six months, and then he was sent first to the island of Pantelleria (advanced training) and then in Libia with the 32° Stormo (flight). Due to the heavy disorganization and lack of resources in the IRAF, he had to adapt to different roles: mechanic, tail gunner (hunchback, because he used to  fly on Savoia-Marchetti SM79), radio and bomb operator. After about ten flights, lots of dead crew members and many successful raids he joined in 1942 the 1° Stormo Caccia Terrestre (literally terrestrial fighter wing) and was subjected to training on Macchi MC 200 fighter. After passing the license test for the MC200, he entered active duty as a reserve pilot. In the 1° Stormo he only joined 3 missions before the 8th of September 1943 (Badoglio Proclamation, end of the fascist regime as a unite state). While being in Ronchi dei Legionari, an italian city where the entire wing was moved, the Armistice striked, and my grandpa was captured by Wehrmacht. He was given 2 options: continue war activity on the new-born National Republican Air Force (Aeronautica Nazionale Repubblicana, or ANR), or surrender and be imprisoned. This is a crucial point in the life of my grandpa: he always regret his choice. He in fact chose to enlist in the 1° Gruppo Caccia (1st fighter wing, just a reorganization of the old 1° stormo under the new fascist state, the Italian Socialist Republic). Until 1944 he continued with the Mc200 in aerial defense role (2-3 missions against american bombers, 1 confirmed kill and 2 unconfirmed/joined kills). In January 1944 the wing received the new Macchi Mc205 Veltro, and my grandfather was very happy of it. In fact, he told me that he never felt so free like when he was flying that aircraft. Pure italian design with a powerful German engine. After like 9 missions (always anti-bomber) my grandfather succsessfully shot down a P-38 Lighting, and thus decided to take a rest. He always hated germans, and some voices begin to circulate: massacres, executions, mass reprisals made by Germans towards local civil population and partisans. So in late 1944 he joined a local formation of republican partisans (he didn't like communists as well) and rarely fought with them in the Veneto region of Italy until the end of the war.
Italian republican government never recognized (both in medal and awards -a German 2nd class iron cross, italian air force war cross- and retirement money) the period served in the National Republican Air Force. At the venerable age of nearly 94, my grandfather still hates the government for this. Today he's a nice grandpa, with 3 sons and 8 grandchildren, living in Treviso, Italy.

If you want to know something more, write me a PM! My grandpa is full of war stories, especially regarding aerial dogfight (altough limited) and bomber attack tecniques.
 

[Ghost_Rider12 4,501]

I have a great grandfather who fought in the 1st world war with the 36th Ulster division he was there on the 1st day of the Somme. He was wonded later that year, one of his friends saw him fall and thought that he had been killed and wrote a letter to his family saying as much so you could imagine the shock when he turned up in a hospital in Dublin a month later! he survived the war returning to his job on the Railways. His brother was not so lucky he served at Gallipoli and later in North Africa he went to France in late 1917 where he lost his life 6 months before the war ended.

My grandfather on my dads side of the family served with the 2nd battalion of the London Irish Rifles in Africa and Italy. After D-Day the London Irish Rifles and the rest of 8th Army were known as the "D-Day Dodgers" thanks to a speech by Lady Astor a member of the British Parliament who said that more troops were needed in France and seeing that the "D-Day Dodgers" that made up the British 8th Army were "just loathing around in the sun down it Italy" should be used to meet this need. The soldiers in Italy felt that their sacrifices were being ignored after the Invasion of Normandy, and a "D-Day Dodger" was a reference to someone who was supposedly avoiding real combat by serving in Italy, whereas the reality was quite different.

This remark spawned this song set to the tune Lili Marlene. I should point out this is the clean version the other one is quite rude ;)s

https://youtu.be/O4hny_XRaw4

Unfortunately I never got to meet my great grandfather or my grandfather but I bet that they would have had some great story's.

My father served in the Royal Tank Regiment before he left the army a few years ago he served in both Gulf wars and in Bosnia and is probably to blame for my love of tanks and all things mechanical and because of that I have the distinct honor of being the only girl in our family to work on the railways :Ps carrying on the tradition of my great grandfather and my grandfather :salute:. Edited April 10, 2016 by Ghost_Rider12

[MrBader 516]

Hi,

I just want to thank you all for these stories. I can't read more now..there are tears in my eyes.
Thank you for sharing.

[SPITFIREPILOT 39]

My great Grandfather was a Battle of Britian and North African Ace during the Second World War. Also my great great grandfather was a World War 1 Ace. They both were called 'Robert Oxspring' (The BoB ace was called Robert 'Bobby' Oxspring)

 

He told his wife that he would like the rest of the family to join the air force, to keep it running through the family. And that is exactly what im going to do.

For the records, Bobby's Spitfire Mk Ia was LZ-R with the serial of N4170, and on War Thunder Live ive done a User Skin of it. He served with : 66nd Sqn, 91st and 233rd Sqn (i think)

 

 

[*ApatheticExcuse 46]

My great grandfather on my mom's side was in the First World War. Apparently he maintained that he was just a muleskinner, but I've got a great big box full of medals and his pay book that says he was not. He's the only person I know many details about, but even that's pretty slim. He was at just about ever major engagement the Canadians participated in, but I don't know much else.

Quite a few of my grandparents and great-grandparents siblings on both sides fought in the Second World War, also on both sides. I don't know much about the German side, TBH, since the ones I'm directly descended from were Sudetens, and, I'm told, those who didn't leave at the war's start all died in the course of it.

On the other side: One died in the invasion of Poland (fighting for the Poles), and another two in Dieppe with the Canadians. A couple also served in the British forces I'm told, but I've never talked to their descendants.

At least one of them (though I don't know who - we have a big family and aren't close) lived through the war and also served in Korea. I've got a box full of medals from him too, as well as an Iron Cross second class he found somewhere along the line.

But the coolest thing I think I have from my family's military participation is a Lee Enfield No.4. The gun itself is beat up and chopped down, but in the storage compartment in the stock are a bunch of old matches, an ancient cigarette, and a rolled up handbill advertising the best prostitutes in all of France.

It's a shame I've never been able to ask anyone for any stories. They're all gone now, and when they were around, I was pretty young and it was kind of a taboo thing on my mom's side of the family.

I have got a few from my best friend and his dad though. His dad was 13 or 14 during the war, and a border guard on the East side of the wall after the partition of Germany, and most of his stories are either really funny or really horrifying and sad, and quite a few of them end with him choosing not to shoot someone. You should hear what he thinks about Communism and Russians.

My friend served in some kind of engineering battalion in the East, and also in the military in the West. He doesn't like to talk about either much unless he's really drunk, but apparently his service in the West was in some sort of special unit that did some pretty unpleasant things. The only story he tells otherwise is about singing songs while marching when his unit was training, most of which are pretty hilariously vulgar.

AND another friend had his grandfather spend the war in a concentration camp. I didn't get why this was when I was younger, since he was a devout Catholic and I thought only Jewish folks got stuck in the camps. I've asked my friend about it since, and apparently he was some kind of dissenter.

Now that I'm older, I feel like I've really missed out on some chances to get alot of good firsthand history. It's a shame.

 

Quote

A now retired work mate of mine told me a story he had heard from an older work mate(who was old enough to be in WWII) of his at his former work place. Anyway at that work place they had a meat grinder in the kichen and that guy told my work mate he really disliked the sound of meat grinders. He had been part of a tank crew in the Finnish army during WWII. During a mission or patrol they had encountered on a narrow forest road a Soviet infantry company marching in file and rank. Well after a short massacre of the infantry company the tank crew(s) climbed out and started moving the bodies to the side of the road because they didn't want to  squash the dead soldiers under their tank tracks. But the tank commander(s) thought it was taking too long(in case more Soviet troops shoved up and they were not in their tanks). So they decided they would move ahead with their tanks. And the sound of the meat grinder gave that guy flashbacks from grinding those dead soldiers under their tank tracks.

 

Real war is very nasty and cruel.

Just in reading this, this reminds me of a girl I dated in highschool. He grandfather was a messenger in the German Army - one of those who were issued a big motorbike. He was very lucky throughout the war, and managed to keep himself in one piece until towards the end.

I don't really remember any of the details, especially since I got it second or thirdhand from her, particularly exactly where we was, what he was doing, etc. etc., but I do remember him as not being involved in anything too historically significant on a big scale.

Apparently, he was supposed to be running communications from somewhere in central Germany into a little pocket on the Eastern Front or something similar. The Allies had overrun his starting point, and he didn't know if the Soviets had overrun his destination. Accordingly, he spent most of the daytime taking the backroads and hiding from planes and such, and drove like a madman at night to get there.

Right as he was nearing the pocket, his bike hit a pothole, and he lost control, falling over and sliding down the road a ways. He broke his leg and was too stunned to get his bike out of the ditch, so he hid it instead and slept next to it till the morning. When he woke up, he managed to push his bike back on to the road, and found to his amazement that he'd managed to fall off and slide right under a wire the Russians had strung over it, which would have likely taken his head off if he'd hit it. Figuring his luck was up and that this meant his destination was now in Soviet hands, he turned around, and managed to drag himself and his bike west. He surrendered to the first Allies he saw, and spent the rest of the war in relative comfort, ending up on the west side of the division of Germany.

Edited October 19, 2016 by *ApatheticExcuse

[Rhino-1938@psn 807]

A good friend of mine's father who is a retired navel aviator, who was commissioned in 1938, and  96 years old, and still kicking who flew is WWll, and Korea (F4, F6, F4U, Panther, Cougar) told me one time as I was trying to explain WT to him, That he doesn't know how they ever found their carries after a mission. He related that there was radio silence, and no lights , just dead reckoning, and navigation. I am trying to get him over to see WT. That should be a great experience. But he does not talk much about the war's

[nelsondx 958]

My maternal great-grandfather participated in WW1. He was drafted and joined the Portuguese Expeditionary Corps, he was sent to the Flanders to fight the Germans and he saw action, he faught in the Battle of the Lys. I don't remember his unit, dont think my grandfather ever mentioned. I remember my grandfather saying: "He once said he hopes noone has to go through what he went through.". I was told he wasn't the same when he returned, he was shell shocked, he didn't talk about his experiences for a very long time and only started to when he was elderly. I recall a story, my great-grandfather woke up in the middle of the night and started crying, he kept saying "why didn't I kill him? why didn't I kill him?", I think it was because a friend of his was killed and he didn't do anything about it(?), my grandfather never explained why. 

 

 

Edited November 8, 2016 by nelsondx
Typo.