War Stories

[BigBoy99]

I was thinking about my Dad who was born 100 years ago this month. All though he passed away many years ago, I still remember him as a great story teller. How many of you have a favorite story from WWII told by some loved one?

One of my Dad's favorite was about a buddy of his. This fellow heard that if you drink large amounts of coffee, it would raise your blood pressure and you could be disqualified for high blood pressure. So the day of the physical, he drank about a gallon of coffee and low and behold, he passed his physical exam with flying colors! Many months later, they are on some Pacific island and this fellow was wounded, not seriously, but enough to get medical attention. After taking all of the readings and doing a check, the corpsman asks him, "How did you get into the Army with such low blood pressure?"

 

[CajunBass]

I used to work at a local grocery store for a while after I retired. I bagged groceries and carried them out to the customers cars. One of my regular customers, was a tall, skinny fellow who always wore a USMC cap.

One say I asked him as I loaded his car, "How long were you in the Corps?" He got this sort of sheepish look on his face, looked at the ground, and sort of whispered, "Two weeks."

"Two weeks," I asked.

Yes, he replied. I joined up right after Pearl Harbor, got sent to Paris Island and they found out I had flat feet, gave me a medical discharge, and shipped me home."

Then he pulled himself up almost to attention, and with pride in his voice, said, "But for two weeks, I was a MARINE!"

I touched his shoulder and said, "You still are."

 

[bigwheelzip]

My uncle was an MP and led convoys on his motorcycle during the war in Europe. When they traveled at night, they covered most of the headlights to try and remain unseen. Of course that meant driving almost blind on bad and unfamiliar roads, so the lead truck needed to stay close to the motorcycle. Several of the escorts were rundown by the trucks they led.

Hearing his stories led me to get a motorcycle license at the same time as a car drivers license, though I waited 40 years to get my first bike, after my youngest child got married. His stories made it more special to explore the places in Europe he talked about.

 

[steelslaver]

My step fathers pardner was a Marine in the South Pacific, so was his ex wife's next husband, Bill. I knew both well. My fathers partner Jack told me of being pinned down for a while by machine gun fire with a guy on his first assault. Newbie said he I got to ****, Jacks said "do it in your pants, I have." Takes a interesting man to tell you that. But, is point was in battle you do what ever it takes.

Bill Rambo (really) told me about cracking a crude joke on a new guy in a landing craft on the way to the beach on Okinawa.

My uncle told me about being a machine gunner during a wave assault in Korea.

I heard stories from grunts and had a friend who was from force recon in the Marine Corps.

Most of the war stories I heard were not so good.

A Sargent did tell me about the start of a big party, reel to reel tape deck all loaded with rock n roll, hit the play button and then Tet happened with rock n roll playing away.

 

[sheepdawg]

As with most WWII vets my dad didn't like to talk about it much. My dad was a German and was captured by the Americans near Metz in October 1944. The story he told most often was about the SS prisoner trying to hide among the regular Wehrmacht prisoners. Three American MPs came in their barracks one night and drug him off. He was pretty sure the prisoners themselves told the Americans. Five minutes later he received 45acp. justice just outside of the camp. Kind of gave the prisoners something to think about. He always told me the Americans treated him very well. One of the reasons he came to America in the early 50s.

 

[bigwheelzip]

He always told me the Americans treated him very well. One of the reasons he came to America in the early 50s.

While her sons fought overseas, my Italian born grandmother regularly sent her three unmarried daughters on the ferry to the POW camp on Staten Island NY with home-cooked food for the Italian prisoners held there. My aunt went on to marry one of them after the war.

 

[30-30remchester]

With 3 uncles and a father in law all participating in the big dust up, Stories were plenty.

One uncle was in Bataan and had a cruise on Japan's Hell ship line.

One uncle was in submarines in the pacific.

Another uncle was under Patton as a combat engineer.

Father-in-law was a ball turret gunner in the B-17's and was credited with 51 missions.

 

[steelslaver]

I also knew a guy who got shot down over Japan, all he he said about it was he would never eat rice again in his lifetime.

 

[arjay]

Dad (a Swiss) told a story of pilots really anxious to get out after Patton started to move (as he put it) and walking two very nervous guys to the train past the soldiers checking everyone.They wanted to turn back,but he convinced them to keep going while he chattered up a storm.It worked

 

[crazyphil]

I, and a friend, enlisted in the Air Force in February 1952. We were
at Ft. Douglas, Utah for physicals, etc. My friend just barely weighed
100 pounds. They told him he had to weigh at least 105. Suggested
we go to the mess hall and eat as many bananas as he could hold. We
did, and he went over the 105 and passed the physical.

 

[Chromedhearts]

My favorite uncle was on a Normandy beach on D-Day. Once I asked him to tell me a "war story" and he started with "driving into Culman Alabama, with a load of liquor", I stopped him and said "no, the War, when you were in the Army," he just smiled and said he'd rather tell the Culman story


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

 

[richardw]

My uncle Fred served in the Marines in WWII. He was at Guadacanal where he was injured. It took him quite some time to fully recover. His next combat assignment was Iwo Jima. So he managed to be in two,of the worst battles of the Pacific War. He spoke very little of the war, but he had a great album of photos from which he removed all the gore shots before he showed it to me when I was about 7 or 8 years old. I think that was when the notion of being a Marine got into my head and never left.

His rare talk of warfighting was how he was glad to be a Marine because of the commeraderie among the grunts and their ferocity in battle. He died of cancer in 1959, the year I joined the Corps at age 17 and just out of HS.

 

[Drm50]

My dad was Navy one of his favorite stories concerned the cold
weather gear they were issued going into the Bearing Sea. He
had extra heavy and high wool socks that he brought home
with him. When ask about them he would tell us the Navy gave
them 2 pairs of these socks and a hammer on a cord you attached to you belt. That was the bait. When you ask him what
the hammer was for he would say it was so bitter cold up there
that the hammer was to bust free when you peed over the side.
He had a lot of stories about having to bust ice off ship. Pics of
those ships looked like they were out of a horror movie with ice
covering even cables. After that one trip the only ice they ran
into was in Rum and Coke in South Pacific.

 

[Double-O-Dave]

My late Father-in-law was a German Fallshirmjaeger (paratrooper) in WW-II. When we first met, and after he learned I was a U.S. Army veteran, well the "weenie measuring" contest began. He was a combat veteran, I was a peace time "veteran". He was a fallshirmjaeger, I was a flight medic, and even worse, I was a nurse. He had killed men in combat - he was especially fond of telling me how he had shot a man in the guts. On, and on, and on. Hey, I knew I wasn't going to win, so I just decided to let him rant. Finally, he started saying how Germany was so great and America was, well, excreta. That did it. I told him, with my wife translating to ensure he understood everything I said, first of all history showed that us stupid Americans had kicked German butt in 3 different wars, secondly, I was the owner of a Colt's Government Model pistol in .45ACP - the civilian version of the U.S. Army issued sidearm, and thirdly, if he wanted to see someone get gut shot, well, he should keep talking smack. Odd, we never seemed to have any problems after that wee chat.

Regards,

Dave

 

[walkin jack]

One of my uncles was in the Army infantry and served in Italy. He saw a lot of heavy action and brought home numerous rifles, pistols, swords, Daggers, and insignias etc from officers uniforms.

Unfortunately although all his stories were interesting I just can't think of a way to tell them in here with out getting sent to banned camp. They were all very graphic and violent. But it was my observation by the way he acted and carried himself that they were all true...and left him a changed man. All close up and personal. Point blank gun fights and hand to hand stuff. He was about 5'8" and weighted pretty close to 200lbs and he was NOT fat. sort of like a tank on two legs. He was no doubt and handful for any man.

 

[30-30remchester]

Though my uncles told good stories, a friend told the best I had heard.

Sam was an older man when I got to know him. Quite opinioned and often about things he knew little about. A Marine in WW 2 he was wounded at Saipan. He hated the 45 ACP and the gun that fired it. Politely I explained it was the best military handgun ever. He poo pooed every time I disagreed. One time I said he did not know prunes about the gun or cartridge. At this point he stood up on his chair, we were in a restaurant, ripped the buttons off his shirt, exposing a huge scar across the full length of his chest. He said "This is what happens when you shoot a Jap 2 times with a 45 and he has a bayonet". That man has earned the right to his opinion. Rest in peace Sam.

 

[sheepdawg]

Finally, he started saying how Germany was so great and America was, well, excreta.

Regards,

Dave

My dad wasn't quite as adamant on how much greater Germany was than America but he often told me the Mauser K98k was a much better rifle than the Garand and that the Germans were better equipped. No amount of debate would change his mind.

 

[CajunBass]

My father was a farmer when Pearl Harbor happened. He tried to sign up a few months later, but was told his occupation was vital to the war effort. Besides the training camps were filling up faster than they could be built. He should just go home, keep working the farm, he'd be called up when they needed him.

So he went home and waited. Finally, in July of 1945, he got the word that he would be in the first draft called up in 1946.

The war in Europe was over by then of course, so there was little doubt that he would be called up for the anticipated invasion of Japan.

In August of 45, they dropped the bombs. In September the Japanese surrendered. The war was over. There was no draft in 1946, or if there was, my father never got the call. He continued to farm for a while, then turned to carpentry.

I didn't know that story until after he died. My mother told it to me. The only time I ever heard him mention anything like it, was once during one of those "debates" on the news about rather we should have dropped the bombs. He just said, more to himself than to me really, "Those bombs probably saved my life."

 

[LVSteve]

One of my grandfathers was RAF ground crew during WWII. He had some stories for sure. The four that stick for me:

1) Being part of the detail who were sent into a farmer's field next to a dispersal where a Polish airman had been careless around an aircraft that was running. They were searching for his head. Granddad got lucky, somebody else found it.

2) The night the firing mechanism on fully fueled and armed Beaufighter decided to short out. Everybody thought it best to let the ammo run out and not approach the plane. This was after considering the problem from the nearest slit trench.

3) Working on a Lancaster that had aborted its mission before takeoff the night before. The aircraft was found to still be armed, or at least it was until a befuddled airman in the cockpit released the two 4000lb Cookies onto the hardstanding....

4) Late in the war a nuisance raider in a Ju-88 made a run the length of their runway dropping a perfect stick of bombs right down the middle. All other work on the field was stopped, everybody sleeping was roused and lots of shovels, bags of gravel and other material handed out. They flew missions that night, courtesy of a lot of aching backs and the big flotation tyres worn by the RAF bombers of the time.

I'll post some of my Dad's from a kids perspective later.

 

[amazingflapjack]

Started witha bang...

My step fathers pardner was a Marine in the South Pacific, so was his ex wife's next husband, Bill. I knew both well. My fathers partner Jack told me of being pinned down for a while by machine gun fire with a guy on his first assault. Newbie said he I got to ****, Jacks said "do it in your pants, I have." Takes a interesting man to tell you that. But, is point was in battle you do what ever it takes.

Bill Rambo (really) told me about cracking a crude joke on a new guy in a landing craft on the way to the beach on Okinawa.

My uncle told me about being a machine gunner during a wave assault in Korea.

I heard stories from grunts and had a friend who was from force recon in the Marine Corps.

Most of the war stories I heard were not so good.

A Sargent did tell me about the start of a big party, reel to reel tape deck all loaded with rock n roll, hit the play button and then Tet happened with rock n roll playing away.

The American forces radio station in VN had an early morning program called "The Dawn Buster." One morning the VC attempted to blow up the station, just as that show began. The explosion was heard over the radio, but the station continued to function, and the Disc Jockey never missed a lick saying, "That's right folks, The Dawn Buster," The show that starts the day with a bang!" Or words to that effect.

 

[joeintexas]

My dad would have been 99 this year. He never would talk about the war, always changed the subject. He was a very quiet man. He walked with a noticeable limp. One day as a teen ager I saw him putting his pants on, he had a scar an inch wide and at least 9 inches long down the back of his leg. I asked him what happened, he only said " that's why I hate rice". I never asked again. God bless that wonderful, courageous generation.

 

[TomkinsSP]

As with most WWII vets my dad didn't like to talk about it much. My dad was a German and was captured by the Americans near Metz in October 1944. The story he told most often was about the SS prisoner trying to hide among the regular Wehrmacht prisoners. Three American MPs came in their barracks one night and drug him off. He was pretty sure the prisoners themselves told the Americans. Five minutes later he received 45acp. justice just outside of the camp. Kind of gave the prisoners something to think about. He always told me the Americans treated him very well. One of the reasons he came to America in the early 50s.

My dad (USAAC-USAAF) and father-in-law (USN) saw combat, and did NOT talk about it. I was fortunate to get each to write a bit for future generations.

Ten years ago I met an old man in Door County Wisconsin. His granddaughter was selling cherries, and somehow the conversation turned to this mans love for this country.

Turns out he was a young Wehrmacht conscript, captured by Americans, ending up a PW in Wisconsin, he was put to work on a farm near the spot where we were talking. After the war the family he worked for as a laborer sponsored his coming back, and there he was sixty years later to tell me his story.

 

[Eddietruett]

I had an uncle that was a paratrooper in WWll. If someone ever asked him what he did in the war he would just say he was a paratrooper. Of course the question then was “you really jumped out of planes?”. His standing answer was always “Never. But my damn sergeant pushed me out of a bunch of them.”

 

[brjr51]

Most of these vets never considered themselves heroes for what they did. My grandfather was in his mid twenties with a good career, pregnant wife, and a two year old daughter(my mom) when Pearl was attacked. By early spring of '42 he told my grandmother he couldn't sit around any more and do nothing so he enlisted. Ended up following Patton through N.Africa, Sicily, and eventually Rome. While enduring the non stop German artillery barrage in the battle of Monte Cassino he prayed and promised if he survived he would never complain about anything the rest of his life. I think he may have held true to that, the man always had a smile, never spoke badly of someone, and lived to be 96. Those guys were something else.

 

[sheepdawg]

My dad (USAAC-USAAF) and father-in-law (USN) saw combat, and did NOT talk about it. I was fortunate to get each to write a bit for future generations.

Ten years ago I met an old man in Door County Wisconsin. His granddaughter was selling cherries, and somehow the conversation turned to this mans love for this country.

Turns out he was a young Wehrmacht conscript, captured by Americans, ending up a PW in Wisconsin, he was put to work on a farm near the spot where we were talking. After the war the family he worked for as a laborer sponsored his coming back, and there he was sixty years later to tell me his story.

My father was an extremely talented artist and made a few G.I. buddies during and after the war. He did quite a bit of nose art for the Americans. Said he had beautiful women in bathing suits down pat by the end of the war. One of the G.I.s helped sponser my dad to come over here. Same G.I. called me two days after my dad passed away. We talked for a few hours. I later heard the same G.I. died a month later.

Found my dad's send home to mom Wehrmacht picture and some murals of what else, pretty women he did in an NCO club.

 

[arjay]

Mom was a kid in Scotland during the war and tells stories of how terrifying it was when air raid sirens went off and being hustled off of the bus into bomb shelters in Edinburgh,of German fighters in flames flying low over the farm house,etc.She ,along with many other kids,was sent away from the cities to boarding schools in the countryside where it was safer.One story involved picking potatoes after the tractor passed and getting it done before it came around again.She had fallen behind and a German pow ran over to help her catch up in spite of the grief he would catch if he was seen.Meat was always in short supply and her brothers would put nets over rabbit holes and drop a ferret down one opening to chase them out.She talks about it more now that she's in her 80s.Dad didn't talk about it much,but I don't think he ever got over his fury at the nazis

 

[Toyman]

I wish I knew the story about this drawing. My father in law was a Coast Guard LT on a landing shipped manned by Coast Guard personal. I know he went through more than 1 invasion in the South Pacific. I did not find this until after he died.

 

[Golddollar]

Back when I was in college in the 1970's, I had a professor who was in the Luftwaffe. He didn't like Hitler, but draft dodging was a capital offense in Germany so the professor enlisted in the Luftwaffe figuring his chances of survival were better in an airplane than on the ground.

He was shot down in North Africa and captured by the Americans. It was probably the happiest day in his life. He ended up in a POW camp in Lubbock, Texas, and while he was a prisoner he took correspondence courses from the University of Texas.

 

[ChuckS1]

My dad had rickets when he was a kid growing up in Montana. Apparently that left him with a dent, for lack of a better description, in his sternum (why, I don't know; that's what he said) When I was little he told me he got it from having a German 88mm shell bounce of his chest during the Battle of the Bulge.

 

[brick]

My father joined the navy in 1940 because he ran out of CCC camp. He was on the Nevada at Pearl on 7 December, transferred to the St Louis on 10 December, survived a torpedo at Kula Gulf, survived two kamikazi hits at Leyte Gulf, bombarded Kiska and Attu during the Midway battle, bombarded Okinawa, did the Yellow River patrol in China after the war (in a light cruiser no less), then spent the rest of his service in the Philadelphia naval yard taking temperature and humidity in mothballed ships. He did not talk about his service but we did not eat any rice or lamb.