My dad was a young man born in 1925 which meant he graduated in 1943. All young men who came of age during WWII automatically joined up with the military. It was just what you did. My father (and his brother, my uncle) were no different. After going through basic training in the United States, he got to Europe in late summer of 1944 and eventually he and his unit (17th Airborne/194th Glider Infantry Regiment) received their baptism of fire in December 1944 in the Ardennes at the Battle of the Bulge. He also was a participant in Operation Varsity...the last major airborne operation of WWII. He was a Glider Trooper. You can read more about this unit and its actions here: (It includes a Medal of Honor winner...one of 4 in the 17th Airborne) http://www.ww2-airborne.us/units/194/194.html My father never spoke to anyone in detail about his war time experiences...not even my mother. My mother did mention one time when he had too much to drink he said some things that she described as "awful". I did one time have the opportunity to ask him about his experiences in a long car drive. He would only talk about the part of the war that was "funny" experiences. Never any battlefield stories. I guess it was just too painful for him to discuss. I am extremely proud of him and my uncle's service. Men like him and the one's described in this thread are real heroes.
Wow Deck. When you put it like that it really reminds us that this isn't just history, but people's LIVES. It sounds like the pilot SHOULD have radioed it in. And I realize your father lost his friend and had to live with the memories....so tough. You never know though. Perhaps taking out that sub (though it appeared to be out of commission) then saved American lives. The part about going down in the drink w/ all the sharks and your Dad climbing up the East Texan's arm like a rope (my grandfather was from Lufkin) reminds me of the accounts of the USS Indianapolis. A recurring theme that doesn't surprise me is so many Vets (no matter when/what action they've seen) playing it close to the vest with their experiences. My Dad's father was OSS and saw "action" in France, Italy, Germany, Greece, and more. I remember going up to Rochester for part of the holidays each year and he would break out the slides. He would talk about where they were and have an anecdote for each shot, but it was always light .....no combat/intel details of course.
Wow. Now that's coinicidence/crazy! Especially considering I found the pic randomly in a small Arkansas town with a population of around 5000 probably, and Montezuma and Barnes City have a combined population of less than 1500 people apparently. Neat stuff.
This is a neat thread - a shame more people can't contribute. One of the things I suggest you folks do is take videos of people in your family and ask them about those days and what it was like. Then save them or heck, Youtube it. Those stories die often untold and unheard, never to be heard of again, and that's really sad. It doesn't necessarily have to be about wars, but about life in general. What was different? What was most important to them? Any mistakes they regret making? Any do-overs? Anyway, thanks for sharing what you already have about a generation that I fear will be forgotten about too quickly. The wars will be rememberd, but the guys who fought it may be forgotten at this rate.
Amen. On that note, i'll contribute one more if you will indulge me. My father and his large family (10 kids) lived and worked on a farm right on the Montana/North Dakota border less than 100 miles from the Canadian border. They were a family of immigrants (my grandfather came over from Norway on the Lusitania) and were poor but certainly hard working. Anyways, as you can imagine winters are very cold on the Montana high line and of course in the 20's/30's/40's their was no power so wood burning stoves and fireplaces were the only way to heat up a house. In eastern Montana, there is very little wood (no trees) so they would have to get coal to heat their humble place for the winter. How did they aquire the coal? The brothers and my grandfather would make a trip to the Yellowstone river (about 10 miles away), and chip it from the bottom of the river. Yes, the bottom. How? They tied a 2 ropes around a 2 brothers. One of the brothers would swim to the bottom of the river and chipped away coal from the bottom. Meanwhile, the other brother would swim back to the surface with the coal and hand it off to my Grandfather so it wouldn't just "float away". The rest of the brothers would hold on dearly to that rope to keep their brother from "floating away" and to pull him to the surface in case of trouble. They took turns doing this until they felt they had enough to get them through the winter. Then they would make the 10 mile trek back to the homestead. Crazy eh? My family in front of the old homestead. See what I mean about no trees?
If there is a recurring theme among combat veterans, whether from WWII, as we're discussing here, or any of the wars our country has been in, it is that those vets in actual combat rarely talk about their experiences. They might talk around the combat, but not talk about it. I grew up in the 1950's, and one of the biggest things we sat around discussing was, "What did your Dad do during the war?" The war being WWII, and everyone in my neighborhood being families who bought the first homes they ever owned on the GI Bill, a dream fulfilled, and many going to college, another dream they never thought could be realized when they were growing up during the Depression. So when this topic came up, I'd say that my father was a radar expert who served, for a time, on the carrier Saratoga. I would have given anything to have been able to tell about my Dad's experiences, the ones I briefly described and didn't discover until 30 years later. I know there must be exceptions, vets just wired differently from most of them, but it's safe to say that the more a vet talks about what happened in combat, the less it is likely to be true. You almost have to be lucky to get something out of them. They're drunk, or perhaps very ill and want to get it off their chest before meeting their maker. I have an uncle who was a young officer in the 1st Marine Division in Korea at Chosin Reservoir. That's where the Marines and other UN forces were surrounded by far larger Chinese forces during the surprise entry of China in the conflict. My uncle and his unit fought their way out like the rest of the survivors, and I know he was in extended and brutal combat, under the very worst winter conditions Korea had to offer, yet I've never heard him speak of it. Neither did he speak of it to his sons, because I asked them. There is nothing the least bit romantic about combat, despite what Hollywood would have you believe. It's an overused cliché, but war really is hell, and those involved up to their necks try, as best they can, to forget about their experiences. As others have said, if you know veterans from our conflicts, members of your family, find out what you can. These people are quickly disappearing, at least those whose experiences date before Vietnam. It is our history, and should be remembered.
