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Today is June 6

rchawk

HB Legend
Gold Member
Oct 27, 2001
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Chicago, Illinois
My late Uncle Max landed on Utah Beach 71 years today. Thankfully he didn't become late that day, although the 4th Infantry Division suffered terrible losses in the ETO. Came home, got married, bought a house with help from the GI Bill, had four kids. Died in his eighties.

He was a great reader, usually of history or biographies. A lifelong Democrat he voted for Ike twice and would have punched anybody who told him to vote otherwise. He didn't talk much about the war at all. He did say the GIs took it hard when President Roosevelt died. For many of them FDR was the only president they could remember.
 
My Uncle Ernest was there, somewhere. I can't say he was with your Uncle that day, this day so many years ago, or if his part came later. He almost never spoke about his war experience, not much but one thing that I ever heard. He came home, married a war widow who came with a daughter and later she gave him a son. He was soft spoken and I don't recall anyone ever knowing his politics, again, not that I ever heard. I'm sure he voted. I do know that when he reached the age to collect social security he wasn't interested and when people asked him why he said that the country had done enough for him. But he kept on working until he could no longer work enough to provide and then he wasn't too proud to sign up. He passed away so quietly I heard about it long after the funeral.

I did hear one war story from my Mom, his sister ten years younger than he and Mom was a talker so I suppose she forced it out of him. She would repeatedly tell about how her brother Ernest was given a medal for fixing a tank behind enemy lines. I grew up hearing her tell that. That's all she knew. I grew up thinking Uncle Ernie was some bad... G.I. Joe and was a little afraid to talk to him. I finally got the courage when I was a teenager and I told him my Mom's story, the only thing he had to add to it? "Hell son, I didn't know where the lines were."
 
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My grandpa was D-Day plus 5 and I could never really get him to talk about it. Tried once for a middle school paper, but he just skipped ahead to a story about later in the war as things were wrapping up. Those guys saw a lot of things that I'm sure they tried hard to forget.
 
My grandpa was D-Day plus 5 and I could never really get him to talk about it. Tried once for a middle school paper, but he just skipped ahead to a story about later in the war as things were wrapping up. Those guys saw a lot of things that I'm sure they tried hard to forget.

My aunt, Uncle Max's wife, once confided to my Mom that he had nightmares for years after the war. After Dad and I went to see Saving Private Ryan he said he wouldn't want Max to see it.
 
I've told this before, but, Mrs. Lucas paternal grandfather went in to Normandy in a glider. He never spoke to anyone about it, except to a nephew by marriage on my wife's mom's side who served two tours in Vietnam as a Marine Lt. I guess he felt he was one of the few people he could talk to.
Through the nephew he spoke of how cocked up it was that night as them came in disorganized. They spent a lot of time trying to form units and gather supplies. He was 26 when he went into the Army. I remember only a few pictures of him being available in his uniform. When grandma passed a few years ago my FIL and his brother found bundles of letters written from grandpa to grandma. Almost every day he wrote to her.
One story that filtered through was how farther on in the war he and a couple of other guys got separated from their unit for an extended period. The front was fluid, and they stumbled into a barn during a cold rain. They were exhausted and knowingly violated the most basic rule of posting a sentry. They awoke to the unmistakable sound of a German tank rolling up to the barn. They bailed out a rear door, with grandpa in the rear. He vividly described years ago making eye contact with a very young German soldier coming into the barn. Neither raised their weapons. Supposedly grandpa said something along the lines of, "Whoever has the tank gets the barn", to the nephew.
 
I've told this before, but, Mrs. Lucas paternal grandfather went in to Normandy in a glider. He never spoke to anyone about it, except to a nephew by marriage on my wife's mom's side who served two tours in Vietnam as a Marine Lt. I guess he felt he was one of the few people he could talk to.
Through the nephew he spoke of how cocked up it was that night as them came in disorganized. They spent a lot of time trying to form units and gather supplies. He was 26 when he went into the Army. I remember only a few pictures of him being available in his uniform. When grandma passed a few years ago my FIL and his brother found bundles of letters written from grandpa to grandma. Almost every day he wrote to her.
One story that filtered through was how farther on in the war he and a couple of other guys got separated from their unit for an extended period. The front was fluid, and they stumbled into a barn during a cold rain. They were exhausted and knowingly violated the most basic rule of posting a sentry. They awoke to the unmistakable sound of a German tank rolling up to the barn. They bailed out a rear door, with grandpa in the rear. He vividly described years ago making eye contact with a very young German soldier coming into the barn. Neither raised their weapons. Supposedly grandpa said something along the lines of, "Whoever has the tank gets the barn", to the nephew.

"Whoever has the tank gets the barn." Jeebuz lucas nobody can argue with that. Thanks for sharing.
 
It's a shame that we used to fight against communism and socialism back then but now we have to accept it installed into the whitehouse and must worship it
 
It's a shame that we used to fight against communism and socialism back then but now we have to accept it installed into the whitehouse and must worship it

ThreadHijack-DeNiro.jpg
 
It's a shame that we used to fight against communism and socialism back then but now we have to accept it installed into the whitehouse and must worship it
Actually, we weren't fighting communism back then. We were on the same side.
 
June 6th, 1984, my grandpa John P. Roach died of a massive heart attack. He served during WW2. Rest in peace grandpa.
 
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