I just found my old project on Dunkirk that I did in primary school, and in it is a written account of my grandfather's experience in World War II as a British soldier - Pte. Clarence "Mick" Smith of the British Expeditionary Force. Unfortunately I'm no longer able to ask him about it, and I wish I'd been more interested at the time, but I find it absolutely fascinating right now. It's the only thing he wrote, to my knowledge, about his experiences.
I want to type it up and share it with you guys, but before I do - it's about six pages worth - I wanted to make sure it would be the kind of thing you'd want to read. What say you, PA?
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My grandmother was an officer in the british army, and did a huge array of stuff in WWII (including getting strafed twice by aircraft)
My grandfather served with distinction as an officer in the war
My other grandfather lived to 96, smoked a pipe every day, was a royal marine (not an officer) in WWI (he lied about his age) and WWII and won several medals in both, then went on to be a senior design engineer on the concorde engines. They forcibly retired him from service when he demanded and started yelling at his superiors to go out on D-Day. At 40. He had a total of eight children.
There is literally no way on earth that I can ever match my grandfather in pure brazen manly awesomeness.
My grandmother was an officer in the british army, and did a huge array of stuff in WWII (including getting strafed twice by aircraft)
My grandfather served with distinction as an officer in the war
My other grandfather lived to 96, smoked a pipe every day, was a royal marine (not an officer) in WWI (he lied about his age) and WWII and won several medals in both, then went on to be a senior design engineer on the concorde engines. They forcibly retired him from service when he demanded and started yelling at his superiors to go out on D-Day. At 40. He had a total of eight children.
There is literally no way on earth that I can ever match my grandfather in pure brazen manly awesomeness.
Not to be offensive, but you realize your grandfather could've made half of that up in order to make you feel inadequate?
My grandmother was an officer in the british army, and did a huge array of stuff in WWII (including getting strafed twice by aircraft)
My grandfather served with distinction as an officer in the war
My other grandfather lived to 96, smoked a pipe every day, was a royal marine (not an officer) in WWI (he lied about his age) and WWII and won several medals in both, then went on to be a senior design engineer on the concorde engines. They forcibly retired him from service when he demanded and started yelling at his superiors to go out on D-Day. At 40. He had a total of eight children.
There is literally no way on earth that I can ever match my grandfather in pure brazen manly awesomeness.
Not to be offensive, but you realize your grandfather could've made half of that up in order to make you feel inadequate?
He didn't bullshit his medal case. Which he kept in a drawer, under clothing.
My Grandmother rivited ships in the Esquimalt Shipyard in Victoria BC during WW2.
She and a friend were walking along a ship one evening when she fell in an open hatch. Seems it was a russian ship in for repairs and she and her friend were invited to party with the Russian Sailors. She said it was many years after that before she could drink vodka again.
One of my aforementioned grandmothers Brothers was in the Merchant Marine. The worst thing he had to deal with was somewhere between Newfoundland and Ireland one winter he lost one of the mittens that my grandmother had knit for him overboard. He was so pissed at losing the mitten that he tossed the other on in behind it. He claimed they were damn warm mittens.
My Grandmother rivited ships in the Esquimalt Shipyard in Victoria BC during WW2.
She and a friend were walking along a ship one evening when she fell in an open hatch. Seems it was a russian ship in for repairs and she and her friend were invited to party with the Russian Sailors. She said it was many years after that before she could drink vodka again.
One of my aforementioned grandmothers Brothers was in the Merchant Marine. The worst thing he had to deal with was somewhere between Newfoundland and Ireland one winter he lost one of the mittens that my grandmother had knit for him overboard. He was so pissed at losing the mitten that he tossed the other on in behind it. He claimed they were damn warm mittens.
Don't kid yourself, the merchant mariners had brazen balls of steel to do their job. They knew that if a u-boat hit them, they were all dead, that the convoy was not stopping to pick up survivors, and that they had about five minutes to live in the frigid north atlantic waters.
it's still basically certain death to suffer a massive mechanical failure in the north Atlantic, it's just too cold and rough to survive.
My great-grandfather on my mom's side fought at Vimy Ridge. I'm pretty proud of that. Vimy was a very 'fuck yeah!' moment for Canada. We've still got his hat and service pin. It's crazy to think that stuff is over 90 years old.
My grandfather on my dad's side was in the Italian army in WWII, but I don't know if he ever saw any action. I'm not sure what the Italian policy was, but my grandpa on my mom's side was the same age and he was too young to go overseas, so he did some kind of construction.
I'm looking forward to reading this story. Most of my knowledge of WWII is from the American perspective.
One grandfather joined the RAF to avoid conscription and get a better job early on with a number of his mates. Ended up as a gunner on the Lancaster bombers, whilst he died when I was fairly young I remember he always used to make these Lancaster Bomber kits. Oh and he was the only one of his mates who made it back.
Other was in the Merchant Navy, got sunk, contracted tuberculosis and was literally one of the first people in the world to be cured of it.
My grandmother spent the war in Nazi Germany (though wasn’t a Nazi, like actually wasn’t – really strong Catholic, still is. Her brothers and relatives were all in the Luftwaffe mind), after the war got sent to one of the soviet concentration camps. She escaped with a couple soldiers when they were getting transferred to Siberia.
My Grandmother rivited ships in the Esquimalt Shipyard in Victoria BC during WW2.
She and a friend were walking along a ship one evening when she fell in an open hatch. Seems it was a russian ship in for repairs and she and her friend were invited to party with the Russian Sailors. She said it was many years after that before she could drink vodka again.
One of my aforementioned grandmothers Brothers was in the Merchant Marine. The worst thing he had to deal with was somewhere between Newfoundland and Ireland one winter he lost one of the mittens that my grandmother had knit for him overboard. He was so pissed at losing the mitten that he tossed the other on in behind it. He claimed they were damn warm mittens.
Don't kid yourself, the merchant mariners had brazen balls of steel to do their job. They knew that if a u-boat hit them, they were all dead, that the convoy was not stopping to pick up survivors, and that they had about five minutes to live in the frigid north atlantic waters.
it's still basically certain death to suffer a massive mechanical failure in the north Atlantic, it's just too cold and rough to survive.
Oh I wasn't denigrating Uncle Bills contribution. He told us often how scary it could be. His way of telling the story is more of a thank god the worst he had to deal with was losing the warm mittens that his sister had made him to keep his hands warm in the cold north atlantic.
We still don't know much about my paternal grandfather's service record because he was pretty uncomfortable talking about it (and made up a lot of deflecting bullshit as well). He chucked his medals not long before he died, along with a lot of other stuff. He was Irish, but wound up in the Canadian armed services because he was in Canada when the war broke out. We think he was in Sicily mostly. My paternal grandmother was a RAF nurse from a military family (grew up in British India), but we know even less about her record.
My maternal grandfather was jailed for conscientious objection on religious grounds. Normally I'd be square on his side, but he just had to go and pick the war that had Hitler in it. He spent some time in an internment camp near Sydney, I'm pretty sure.
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SteevLWhat can I do for you?Registered Userregular
edited January 2010
About 2 or 3 years ago I found out that my dad's great uncle was in Slovenia at the time of the German invasion. He got conscripted into their army and had to fight on the eastern front. Somehow he managed to survive and emigrated to the US.
My maternal grandfather got hauled off to a Nazi work camp in Germany. Apparently when the Russians "liberated" the camp they were shooting people at random. He escaped and got back home to the Netherlands by stealing a bike and surviving off potatoes.
My other grandfather was in the US Navy. I don't think he saw any combat, though.
Until he passed a few months ago, my great-grandfather's brother always claimed that he had been dishonorably discharged when he was sent home during WWII. At his funeral, it came out that he had in fact been sent home after contracting severe food poisoning (such that he was the only member of his squad who ate the tainted food that survived). He saw combat in Normandy and the Battle of the Bulge as glider infantry (I'm not sure whether he was assigned to the 82nd or 101st). I was very impressed and proud of him when I finally heard about it, but I certainly understand why he didn't want to talk about the horrors he saw.
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My grandfather was a scout in the Philippine Army during WWII. He fought against the Japanese after the fall of Corregidor. From what little he told me, it was a rough time, since the Filipinos were often out-manned and out-gunned. A lot of their supplies came from abandoned American ammo caches.
He continued fighting up until he contracted malaria, when he was sent home for the rest of the war to recuperate. Actually getting home was an adventure in itself, as he had to pass by Japanese patrols to do so. He made it by covering himself up and pretending to be a sick old woman. He nearly got caught when he ended up sneezing extremely loudly, right in front of one of those patrol units. Fortunately, they decided to back away and run instead. Apparently, they thought whatever he had was contagious, and wanted nothing to do with it.
After the war, he traveled to Japan himself, to earn some money by helping to rebuild it. He always thought very highly of the Japanese, despite the war and the bad rep they got in the Philippines.
My paternal grandfather served aboard the USS South Dakota battleship in the Pacific during WWII. He was witness to nighttime raids and Kamikaze attacks. He was on board during the famous incident when the ammunition exploded in the hold. When that happens, the air gets contaminated with gunpowder which will dissolve your lungs, and he said that he watched as people were literally coughing up their lungs on deck and dying all night. He was down in engineering when it happened. He realized what had happened, slammed the door shut and reversed the fans so that the air from the engine came into engineering. While it was hot as blazes, at least the air was clean. He saved several servicemen's lives by doing that.
He was never recognized for it, though. He never reported it because he was afraid he would be reprimanded instead since reversing the direction of the fans was against regulation. So he remained a quiet hero. That's the way he is. He's the kind of guy that doesn't like a lot celebration or recognition. He just wants to do his job.
He's still with us, but he's suffering from Alzheimer's now. This above story was actually the last long string of sentences that he was able to tell me before the Alzheimer's made it too difficult for him to communicate on this complex a level.
My maternal grandfather served in the Korean War. All I know is that he did see his friends die and he was about to be sent to the frontlines, but the armistice was signed one day before. That's all I know because he refuses to talk about it.
My great uncle was an Austrian citizen originally. He had been living in the U.S. for so long he didn't consider himself Austrian - and it didn't occur to him that anyone else would either.
Until he tried to return home to the U.S. from Canada with his wife after a weekend trip during WWII and was promptly arrested on suspicion of espionage.
He was eventually released, but only after his wife had talked to the police for several hours and numerous phone calls had been made to friends and associates stateside who vouched for him.
My late grandfather was a fish agriculturalist. Or whatever you call someone who seeds fish for fisheries. He was employed by the Taiwanese government (well, the Colonial Government overseen by Japan). I think he was too old to serve in civil defense, or be drafted.
I'm not certain he ever learned how to speak Chinese, but he could speak very good Japanese, apparently. He had neighbors who volunteered/were drafted into the Imperial Japanese Army, but the closest he ever got to war was the Allied bombing campaign. He was quite happy to have lived through that, if I remember correctly.
My paternal Grandfather was in the Army during WW2 but they ended up keeping him stateside to box for the army. I kid you not. He got a damned pass on the war because the Army wanted him as a middlewight boxer.
Then my dad got his draft notice for Vietnam while he was in boot camp for the Coast Guard.
I guess my family is just really good at lucking out of being shot at.
My paternal Grandfather was in the Army during WW2 but they ended up keeping him stateside to box for the army. I kid you not. He got a damned pass on the war because the Army wanted him as a middlewight boxer.
Then my dad got his draft notice for Vietnam while he was in boot camp for the Coast Guard.
I guess my family is just really good at lucking out of being shot at.
My father-in-law got a call from his mother while he was at work, telling him he had gotten his draft papers (for Vietnam.) He left work and went straight to joining the coast guard before he went home. Spent Vietnam in Hawaii doing pot and LSD.
Ah. Yeah, my dad went into the Coast Guard first and got his draft papers later. He was stationed in San Diego, flew search and rescue. Ton of cool stories and I'm really glad he was there not in Vietnam. Seeing as he would probably be dead and I wouldn't exist.
Paternal grandfarther was apparently a sniper during WW2, although I don't know how I'd go about looking that up.
He met my paternal grandmother since she worked at a radar station.
He also lived one hour past the time he needed to be alive for her to collect benefits.
Maternal grandfather volunteered and was failed out on something. Mom told me that it haunted him for the rest of his life until he died in '92.
My stepdad's mom was the daughter of an SS officer in WW2 and had to be taken out into the hills to eat lunch. She hated the soup so much that one day she wished the pot would just explode.. and it did.
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GreasyKidsStuffMOMMM!ROAST BEEF WANTS TO KISS GIRLS ON THE TITTIES!Registered Userregular
My great-grandfather on my mom's side fought at Vimy Ridge. I'm pretty proud of that. Vimy was a very 'fuck yeah!' moment for Canada. We've still got his hat and service pin. It's crazy to think that stuff is over 90 years old.
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Oh man maybe both our great-grandpas were buddies, cracking jokes about attacking a fucking wall of rock. Yeah my great-grandpa on my mom's side fought at Vimy too. I thought that was pretty sweet, having learned about it in school just a few months prior to finding that out.
One of my ancestors on my mother's side had his head blown off by an anti-tank weapon, apparently. Actually it might have been a machine gun. But either way, wow.
I don't know much about him beyond that, but I am a little drunk and so I am raising a glass to him, and to all your grandfathers, may they rest in glory.
My grandfather lied about his age to get into the Merchant Marines during WWII. I don't know much else about his service record, but that man was by-and-large a hardass. Lying to get into the Army I could understand, but the merchant marines is some serious shit.
My grand father on my dad's side was cook attached to a mechanized infantry support group in WWII, its where he learned a lot of skills he used in farm work and logging as he moved west. I would love to know how I could get some hard evidence on his time in the Canadian Forces, since while I believe the stories he told me himself in the rickety house he built himself, the stories I heard from my own dad about his dad are harder to believe since I know him to be a pathological liar. Of the stories I got from the source, my favorite were these:
He lied about his age to get into the army. When he was in Ontario, the officer responsible for training him and the other recruits said some unkind words about recruits from the western provinces, so he laid him out with a punch. The CO liked his aggressiveness aka "fighting spirit" and probably didn't want to support the insults to the western provincial recruits, so the officer who got laid out cold ended up with a demotion and grandpa didn't get drummed out.
He was a terrible cook, burning food and the like. Somehow this meant he ended up in charge of the kitchen instead and when he would get inspected he would get the officer taking a peek around drunk and pump them for information instead. Apparently he also managed to make a pretty penny on the side selling surplus food supplies out of his kitchen too.
He had to fight with the rest of his group when they were trapped behind enemy lines to get back across to the allied side, which apparently caught the nazis by surprise when they found themselves flanked by a support group.
His favorite story wasn't about himself however, it was about a hill that the british and americans were being slaughtered trying to take from the german machine guns bunkered there. Apparently a canadian base ball pitcher was there and considerably drunk as well, proceeded to boast he could take the hill all by himself. Well, he loaded up his pockets with grenades, grabbed a drink and started stumbling up the hill. It seemed like whenever the machine guns opened up on him he would fall down, weaving this way and that, so that every two steps he took forward would result in a step to the side or even back down the hill. Eventually the gunners just stopped trying to gun him down for all the good it did them with him obviously stumbling drunk with the bottle in his hand instead of rifle and after a few hours he finally got as close to them as a pitcher would be to home plate from his mound. Suddenly from being four sheets to the wind he when stone cold sober and started pitching grenades into the bunker like he was at a ball game. As the grenades detonated one after another in the bunker and the machine gun was destroyed, he passed out and rolled back down to the bottom of the hill. When they shook him awake he exclaimed,"See, that's how its done!"
My other grandpa escaped from Hungary by skiing through the mountains and eventually came to Canada as a refugee.
Other was in the Merchant Navy, got sunk, contracted tuberculosis and was literally one of the first people in the world to be cured of it.
Hi5! My grandmother was the first person to survive having a lung surgically removed after getting over turboculosis!
Also, my granddad on my mums side used to steal German weapons and sell them to the resistance. When he was 15.
Oh yeaaaaahhh. He and his 18 year old brother would ambush 2-man patrols in Copenhagen and knock them out, and run through open windows and whatnot for the escape. They knew the surrounding area like the back of their hands, so they'd arrange for people to leave a door or window open etc.
Pretty cool if you ask me, but they weren't able to do much else since Copenhagen was on lockdown in during WWII.
Even if they may not be true, CanadianWolverine, they're some excellent stories and your grandfather must have been a great story teller.
Oh also, my dad's cousin's husband's father a was higher up in the SS. He served at Stalingrad and in Denmark, and when the war was over he would take his family (his wife and my dad's cousin's husband) down to Switzerland every summer.
Where he would come back with loads of cash each time. Like they had some kind of hidden bank box in Switzerland. My dad's cousin's husband has never, ever been able to figure out the details because his dad died before he could tell him but he's worked on finding that box since forever since he's sure there might be some treasures in it.
My grandpa on father's side was forced to work in Germany when Speer couldn't find enough workers to fuel the war industry. My grandma from mother's side didn't have to do much, but she did loose a brother who did some smuggling or something.
It's kinda scary, none of my grandparents talked about the war, only in the broadest of terms, even my parents don't know any concrete stories. I think it means that everyone kinda lived on without doing much. After all, for normal white Christian citizens here in the Netherlands shit didn't start hitting the fan until the hungerwinter of '44 and even that was mostly a problem for the urban areas.
Sometimes I wonder what I would do if a war would hit western Europe again, I know my dad literally fainted the moment he fired a gun at the shooting range (and had to do the rest of his conscription as an administrative dork making sure everyone got their knickers on time)... I think I would just book a few tickets to Aruba or Curacao and invite friends and family to get out of dodge for the time being.
my gradfather was conscripted into the hungarian army, send somewhere to the eastern front, deserted, returned back home (and that was quite a fucking long way to go) and then joined the local partizans, was captured once but managed to escape with some friends
My grandpa on father's side was forced to work in Germany when Speer couldn't find enough workers to fuel the war industry. My grandma from mother's side didn't have to do much, but she did loose a brother who did some smuggling or something.
It's kinda scary, none of my grandparents talked about the war, only in the broadest of terms, even my parents don't know any concrete stories. I think it means that everyone kinda lived on without doing much. After all, for normal white Christian citizens here in the Netherlands shit didn't start hitting the fan until the hungerwinter of '44 and even that was mostly a problem for the urban areas.
Sometimes I wonder what I would do if a war would hit western Europe again, I know my dad literally fainted the moment he fired a gun at the shooting range (and had to do the rest of his conscription as an administrative dork making sure everyone got their knickers on time)... I think I would just book a few tickets to Aruba or Curacao and invite friends and family to get out of dodge for the time being.
I would rise up and defend my country and people for what we stand for and believe in.
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My great-grandfather got gassed to death in the trenches in WWI.
My late grandfather got his entire squad killed.
:?
My grandfather served with distinction as an officer in the war
My other grandfather lived to 96, smoked a pipe every day, was a royal marine (not an officer) in WWI (he lied about his age) and WWII and won several medals in both, then went on to be a senior design engineer on the concorde engines. They forcibly retired him from service when he demanded and started yelling at his superiors to go out on D-Day. At 40. He had a total of eight children.
There is literally no way on earth that I can ever match my grandfather in pure brazen manly awesomeness.
Not to be offensive, but you realize your grandfather could've made half of that up in order to make you feel inadequate?
He didn't bullshit his medal case. Which he kept in a drawer, under clothing.
She and a friend were walking along a ship one evening when she fell in an open hatch. Seems it was a russian ship in for repairs and she and her friend were invited to party with the Russian Sailors. She said it was many years after that before she could drink vodka again.
One of my aforementioned grandmothers Brothers was in the Merchant Marine. The worst thing he had to deal with was somewhere between Newfoundland and Ireland one winter he lost one of the mittens that my grandmother had knit for him overboard. He was so pissed at losing the mitten that he tossed the other on in behind it. He claimed they were damn warm mittens.
Don't kid yourself, the merchant mariners had brazen balls of steel to do their job. They knew that if a u-boat hit them, they were all dead, that the convoy was not stopping to pick up survivors, and that they had about five minutes to live in the frigid north atlantic waters.
it's still basically certain death to suffer a massive mechanical failure in the north Atlantic, it's just too cold and rough to survive.
My grandfather on my dad's side was in the Italian army in WWII, but I don't know if he ever saw any action. I'm not sure what the Italian policy was, but my grandpa on my mom's side was the same age and he was too young to go overseas, so he did some kind of construction.
I'm looking forward to reading this story. Most of my knowledge of WWII is from the American perspective.
Do... Re... Mi... So... Fa.... Do... Re.... Do...
Forget it...
One grandfather joined the RAF to avoid conscription and get a better job early on with a number of his mates. Ended up as a gunner on the Lancaster bombers, whilst he died when I was fairly young I remember he always used to make these Lancaster Bomber kits. Oh and he was the only one of his mates who made it back.
Other was in the Merchant Navy, got sunk, contracted tuberculosis and was literally one of the first people in the world to be cured of it.
My grandmother spent the war in Nazi Germany (though wasn’t a Nazi, like actually wasn’t – really strong Catholic, still is. Her brothers and relatives were all in the Luftwaffe mind), after the war got sent to one of the soviet concentration camps. She escaped with a couple soldiers when they were getting transferred to Siberia.
Oh I wasn't denigrating Uncle Bills contribution. He told us often how scary it could be. His way of telling the story is more of a thank god the worst he had to deal with was losing the warm mittens that his sister had made him to keep his hands warm in the cold north atlantic.
We still don't know much about my paternal grandfather's service record because he was pretty uncomfortable talking about it (and made up a lot of deflecting bullshit as well). He chucked his medals not long before he died, along with a lot of other stuff. He was Irish, but wound up in the Canadian armed services because he was in Canada when the war broke out. We think he was in Sicily mostly. My paternal grandmother was a RAF nurse from a military family (grew up in British India), but we know even less about her record.
My maternal grandfather was jailed for conscientious objection on religious grounds. Normally I'd be square on his side, but he just had to go and pick the war that had Hitler in it. He spent some time in an internment camp near Sydney, I'm pretty sure.
My maternal grandfather got hauled off to a Nazi work camp in Germany. Apparently when the Russians "liberated" the camp they were shooting people at random. He escaped and got back home to the Netherlands by stealing a bike and surviving off potatoes.
My other grandfather was in the US Navy. I don't think he saw any combat, though.
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My grandfather was a navigator during WW2. He flew plans from the US to the UK.
He continued fighting up until he contracted malaria, when he was sent home for the rest of the war to recuperate. Actually getting home was an adventure in itself, as he had to pass by Japanese patrols to do so. He made it by covering himself up and pretending to be a sick old woman. He nearly got caught when he ended up sneezing extremely loudly, right in front of one of those patrol units. Fortunately, they decided to back away and run instead. Apparently, they thought whatever he had was contagious, and wanted nothing to do with it.
After the war, he traveled to Japan himself, to earn some money by helping to rebuild it. He always thought very highly of the Japanese, despite the war and the bad rep they got in the Philippines.
He was never recognized for it, though. He never reported it because he was afraid he would be reprimanded instead since reversing the direction of the fans was against regulation. So he remained a quiet hero. That's the way he is. He's the kind of guy that doesn't like a lot celebration or recognition. He just wants to do his job.
He's still with us, but he's suffering from Alzheimer's now. This above story was actually the last long string of sentences that he was able to tell me before the Alzheimer's made it too difficult for him to communicate on this complex a level.
My maternal grandfather served in the Korean War. All I know is that he did see his friends die and he was about to be sent to the frontlines, but the armistice was signed one day before. That's all I know because he refuses to talk about it.
Until he tried to return home to the U.S. from Canada with his wife after a weekend trip during WWII and was promptly arrested on suspicion of espionage.
He was eventually released, but only after his wife had talked to the police for several hours and numerous phone calls had been made to friends and associates stateside who vouched for him.
I'm not certain he ever learned how to speak Chinese, but he could speak very good Japanese, apparently. He had neighbors who volunteered/were drafted into the Imperial Japanese Army, but the closest he ever got to war was the Allied bombing campaign. He was quite happy to have lived through that, if I remember correctly.
Then my dad got his draft notice for Vietnam while he was in boot camp for the Coast Guard.
I guess my family is just really good at lucking out of being shot at.
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My father-in-law got a call from his mother while he was at work, telling him he had gotten his draft papers (for Vietnam.) He left work and went straight to joining the coast guard before he went home. Spent Vietnam in Hawaii doing pot and LSD.
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He met my paternal grandmother since she worked at a radar station.
He also lived one hour past the time he needed to be alive for her to collect benefits.
Maternal grandfather volunteered and was failed out on something. Mom told me that it haunted him for the rest of his life until he died in '92.
My stepdad's mom was the daughter of an SS officer in WW2 and had to be taken out into the hills to eat lunch. She hated the soup so much that one day she wished the pot would just explode.. and it did.
Oh man maybe both our great-grandpas were buddies, cracking jokes about attacking a fucking wall of rock. Yeah my great-grandpa on my mom's side fought at Vimy too. I thought that was pretty sweet, having learned about it in school just a few months prior to finding that out.
I don't know much about him beyond that, but I am a little drunk and so I am raising a glass to him, and to all your grandfathers, may they rest in glory.
I'm glad neither of them made it into the conflict, my father has enough horror stories from being a medic and just being stationed in the States.
He lied about his age to get into the army. When he was in Ontario, the officer responsible for training him and the other recruits said some unkind words about recruits from the western provinces, so he laid him out with a punch. The CO liked his aggressiveness aka "fighting spirit" and probably didn't want to support the insults to the western provincial recruits, so the officer who got laid out cold ended up with a demotion and grandpa didn't get drummed out.
He was a terrible cook, burning food and the like. Somehow this meant he ended up in charge of the kitchen instead and when he would get inspected he would get the officer taking a peek around drunk and pump them for information instead. Apparently he also managed to make a pretty penny on the side selling surplus food supplies out of his kitchen too.
He had to fight with the rest of his group when they were trapped behind enemy lines to get back across to the allied side, which apparently caught the nazis by surprise when they found themselves flanked by a support group.
His favorite story wasn't about himself however, it was about a hill that the british and americans were being slaughtered trying to take from the german machine guns bunkered there. Apparently a canadian base ball pitcher was there and considerably drunk as well, proceeded to boast he could take the hill all by himself. Well, he loaded up his pockets with grenades, grabbed a drink and started stumbling up the hill. It seemed like whenever the machine guns opened up on him he would fall down, weaving this way and that, so that every two steps he took forward would result in a step to the side or even back down the hill. Eventually the gunners just stopped trying to gun him down for all the good it did them with him obviously stumbling drunk with the bottle in his hand instead of rifle and after a few hours he finally got as close to them as a pitcher would be to home plate from his mound. Suddenly from being four sheets to the wind he when stone cold sober and started pitching grenades into the bunker like he was at a ball game. As the grenades detonated one after another in the bunker and the machine gun was destroyed, he passed out and rolled back down to the bottom of the hill. When they shook him awake he exclaimed,"See, that's how its done!"
My other grandpa escaped from Hungary by skiing through the mountains and eventually came to Canada as a refugee.
Hi5! My grandmother was the first person to survive having a lung surgically removed after getting over turboculosis!
Also, my granddad on my mums side used to steal German weapons and sell them to the resistance. When he was 15.
Oh yeaaaaahhh. He and his 18 year old brother would ambush 2-man patrols in Copenhagen and knock them out, and run through open windows and whatnot for the escape. They knew the surrounding area like the back of their hands, so they'd arrange for people to leave a door or window open etc.
Pretty cool if you ask me, but they weren't able to do much else since Copenhagen was on lockdown in during WWII.
Oh also, my dad's cousin's husband's father a was higher up in the SS. He served at Stalingrad and in Denmark, and when the war was over he would take his family (his wife and my dad's cousin's husband) down to Switzerland every summer.
Where he would come back with loads of cash each time. Like they had some kind of hidden bank box in Switzerland. My dad's cousin's husband has never, ever been able to figure out the details because his dad died before he could tell him but he's worked on finding that box since forever since he's sure there might be some treasures in it.
It's kinda scary, none of my grandparents talked about the war, only in the broadest of terms, even my parents don't know any concrete stories. I think it means that everyone kinda lived on without doing much. After all, for normal white Christian citizens here in the Netherlands shit didn't start hitting the fan until the hungerwinter of '44 and even that was mostly a problem for the urban areas.
Sometimes I wonder what I would do if a war would hit western Europe again, I know my dad literally fainted the moment he fired a gun at the shooting range (and had to do the rest of his conscription as an administrative dork making sure everyone got their knickers on time)... I think I would just book a few tickets to Aruba or Curacao and invite friends and family to get out of dodge for the time being.
I would rise up and defend my country and people for what we stand for and believe in.