My small claim to WWII fame.

[rkanjl]

It was twenty seven years ago that a friend and I went to an airshow in Mesa, Arizona.  As we enjoyed the show, I couldn't help but notice a lot of activity going on at a table to the right of us.  It was too far away to make out exactly what was so interesting about it but close enough to repeatedly get our attention.

Eventually there came a break in the show and we decided to amble over and see what the commotion was all about.  As the people cleared away and we got closer I saw an older gentleman in a light blue jumpsuit selling books.  I picked up a copy and checked out the title, "Baa Baa Black Sheep".  Oh, interesting, I thought, obliviously opening the cover to peek inside.  When the lights finally went on, I looked up at the man and instantly saw the name "Pappy" embroidered on his jump suit. 

Needless to say, it was surreal.  As he autographed my book I managed to stumble out a few words and thanked him for his sacrifice and service and told him what an honor it was to meet him.  He then shook my hand with an iron grip.

It was an amazing day for me.  I can't tell you how good the airshow was, I can't tell you because this is the only part I remember, but I can still see Pappy standing tall and looking fit for his then 69 years of age.  He passed away six years later, in January of 1988, but he still flies in my memories.  Godspeed Pappy.







Please, if you have a WWII story to tell about a connection that you have had with a person, place, plane or whatever that meant something special to you, tell it here.  I would really like to hear about it!

rkanjl

[TwinBoom]

nice

[Sloehand]

In 2002, I was riding with my 'Wild Bunch' on Harleys, most of which were show quality custom bikes of one type or another, out of Seattle on I-90 going east over the Cascade Mountains to Eastern Washington for a long weekend run.  We stopped at the top of Snoqualmie Pass to gas up and then grab some coffee as it was still a beautiful early summer morning.

We had quite a crew that day so it took time for everyone to fuel up, go next door to the restaurant get their coffee and do their usual roadkillting.  Eventually there were 10 rather extreme, expensive and if I may say so, spectacular-looking custom Harleys all lined up neatly in front of the restaurant.

After finishing our coffee and heading outside, we saw this really little old man and his wife walking up and down the row of bikes, staring and pointing things out to each other rather intently.  As we're just a bunch bad looking, good ol' boys, we said hello and started to talk motorbikes with the old guy. 

Turned out they were English, and he and his wife were on their first trip to the U.S.  He seemed quite knowledgable about various makes and models, particularly English and Italian bikes, and wanted to know more about the Harleys.  As often happens, we hunkered down on the curb and spent a good bit of time talking bikes and showing off ours to this nice old English couple.

As he reminisced about riding various bikes over the years, eventually told us about one of his favorites that he rode during WWII, on which he used his meager ration of petrol whenever he left his airfield during the Battle of Britain.  Yup, you guessed it.  This guy who looked to be about 5 foot nothing, thin as a toothpick, and at least 120 years old had been an RAF Spitfire pilot in the war, and later a career officer. 

You wouldn't believe the energy he still had, or the strength in his voice as he told us about flying Spits against the Germans.  I think we spent two hours before we left there after listening to his stories.  Everyone in our group was enthralled.  The stupid thing was, none of us remembered to write is name down to be able to contact him later in England.  The only blemish on what was otherwise an unforgettable day.

My only other real connection to WWII was my father, who crewed as a Central Fire Control Engineer in B-29's flying the Hump in the CBI, and later over Japan in the Pacific theater.

[Cajunn]

I work with a guy who is from around the same area in California (Kern County I believe it is) that Pappy was from, and he did a college paper or something of the sort on him and interviewed him twice around the early or mid 80's. And when he told me that well I made him tell me everything he could remember of the interviews. And what he said he remembered the most was that you could tell that he lived his life hard (nothing that was said it was just a feeling he got while talking to him) and that is the one thing that stuck in his mind the most. 

[TOMCAT21]

Papy was just an amzing guy and pretty damn good pilot...My dad was in the army from 1944-1946 and he fought in the Battle of the Bulge... he will be 83 come august..and my dad;s older brother was a navigator in a b24 during the war....none the less good post..

[Brooke]

Sloehand, do you live anywhere near Seattle?

[1701E]

Really wish I had been able to meet my grandfather who was in WWII.  He was on one of the ships (want to say Arizona) during Pearl.  I have heard he loved flying, must be where I get it.  He flew Grumman products, F6F, F8F.





Only real run-in with WWII I have had was when survivors of the "Indianapolis" spoke at the college.  Was one heck of an experience.  Was three survivors and two rescuers.

[Roscoroo]

Sloehand, do you live anywhere near Seattle?

Didn't you get the Memo ...    Yea he Lives just south of us.

oh yea Did you guys catch flyday at Paine last Sat ??? The Pony and 109 was killer , along with the locals doing the 12 plane formation .

[Brooke]

oh yea Did you guys catch flyday at Paine last Sat ??? The Pony and 109 was killer , along with the locals doing the 12 plane formation .

No -- I missed it.  However, last Friday, I was getting lunch with one of they guys from work (lunch near the end of the runway at Paine) when I heard a prop plane.  "Hmmm," says my brain.  "That doesn't sound like a commercial plane -- that sounds like a WWII plane."  I stopped and looked up, and sure enough appearing over the top of the building is a P-51, flaps and gear down, going around in the pattern.

[Marauding Conan]

I work with a guy who is from around the same area in California (Kern County I believe it is) that Pappy was from, and he did a college paper or something of the sort on him and interviewed him twice around the early or mid 80's. And when he told me that well I made him tell me everything he could remember of the interviews. And what he said he remembered the most was that you could tell that he lived his life hard (nothing that was said it was just a feeling he got while talking to him) and that is the one thing that stuck in his mind the most. 

Yeah, that's what of the things that came from your memoirs. He lived life to the edge, at the edge of society. He made no qualms about spending the entire night partying with his squad and leaving afterwards for a 4 hour sortie at first light (cacthing a nap on the way). He admitted to being a misfit who didn't properly settled in civilian life well after WWII. Even how he managed to pull a squadron together out of rejects, replacements and misfits (without having the time for training that normal squadrons had before they deployed to theater) is a remarkable achievement. Considering that he saw action in China and Rabaul and spent a while in a Japanise POW camp, he had everyright to be a misfit.

Ok, thread-jack over.

[chewiex]

   Unfortunately, my interest in WWII came a little too late before I could talk with my Grandfather about his wartime experiences. I do remember some things he had told me, though I was pretty young at the time. He had mentioned he spent a portion of his Pacific tour in Iwo Jima, as a member of the Army/National Guard. He had enlisted as a Guardsman and I guess the Army took soldiers from the Guard and incorporated them with the regular Army or something. The company he was with had an attachment of 4 Sherman tanks and many infantrymen. The story I remember the best was their company, I believe, were charged with holding a particular piece of territory on the island (this was after the main attack and occupation by Allied forces). The lack of action at the time made the men quite restless and they did all sorts of wild stuff to pass the time. He told me one day, they got sick of eating the Military Issued rations ("K" rations I think, or maybe "C", not sure which), and they decided to go fishing in a near by lagoon, with frag grenades no less, lol. He said they spent a few hours swimming out and collecting all the fish they had blasted and the whole company ate like kings for a few days. He brought back a souvenir with him, a Bayonet from his Garand rifle. I miss him and wish I had spent more time picking his brain of his war stories. He passed away 5 years ago at the age of 87.

SALUTE to all past, present and future military men and women, and those who gave their life for our freedoms, thank you.

A8Chewie

[LCCajun]

Growing up I knew that my Grandfather was in WWII. He worked on B-17s. I was not aloud to ask him anything about his life in WWII. I just found out recently the reason why is b/c one of the B-17s he worked on ended up crashing and killed the whole crew. My Mother told me when that happened, my grandfather kinda lost it b/c he knew the whole crew, and took their passing as his fault. She said he was sent to Pineville for a lil while, thankfully he somewhat recovered and was able to come home. He had been gone for a lil over a year now. I really wish I could've talked to him about his experience. In a way I am glad I didn't get to, I definately wouldn't have want to brought up any old memories of that day.

[PiratPX]

Both of my grandparents from mother's side fought in Warsaw uprising 44'. Grandma was a nurse in an assault battalion "Odwet" of Polish underground army. She's 86 now and still doesn't talk much about her experiences but when she does it's very emotional. Stories of treating wounded fighters - most of them friends of her; evacuating casualties under fire, relocating and running from Germans and such. But one story is really terrifying. At the end of uprising they had field hospital in a large villa in the suburbs of the city. They got a signal that they had Russian SS troops heading their way. Most medics and a handful of wounded managed to evacuate just in time before the hospital was surrounded by Russians. She watched from concealment as Russians set up perimeter around villa, set it on fire, and then methodically executed everyone trying to get out of the burning house. Rest of the patients died in flames.
Grandfather shared few stories too. He remembers in great detail operation Frantic VII of 8th AF to resupply the uprising, as seen from the receiving end. He says that the great number of low flying B17s was quite an impressive sight... and sound . Then he was wounded and while being evacuated from the city, the truck he was on was strafed by a Russian fighter. He says that the pilot had to be aware that he attacked a civilian Polish target as there were no Germans in the area. Still he made multiple passes on that truck and its passengers as they tried to hide from the attacks.
My grandmother's from dad's side apartment was occupied by mother of Luftwaffe pilot fighting on the eastern front. When he was killed she received his belongings which included package of wartime "Adler" magazines, letters, some military decorations and a tin model of German single-seat airplane painted complete in camouflage, national and unit markings. She was evacuated when Russian army rolled close to my city and left all these things in the flat which was then reoccupied by my family. Unfortunately those items had to bring some unpleasant recollections to my grandmother, because she destroyed them all few years later. Wish I could get my hands on them and learn something about the pilot.

[waystin2]

Thank you all for sharing the stories...

 

[Masherbrum]

Two separate stories from me (aside from my Grandpa serving from 43-46 in the USMC in the PTO).

Around September of last year, the wife and kid were in line ordering some grub.   I procured a table and walking out of the place was a a gentleman wearing a Pearl Harbor Survivor hat.   I shot up quick and as he walked by, I stuck out my hand and said "Thank you".   His wife fought back tears and he grabbed my arm and his eyes said "thanks".  

Next one is more recent.   My Jeep club was up near West Branch doing Trail Cleanup for the DNR.   I rode shotgun with my buddy and he complained about the guy in front of him going under the speed limit.   I noticed a "Tin can sailor" sticker on the back window and told my buddy about what that meant.   He was a survivor from "Taffy 3".   My buddy then was amazed after I told him what they did.    He pulled into the same parking lot where my car was.   I walked up to him and simply said "Thank you for service".   This guy then proceeded to chat for about 10 minutes.  

But my Grandfather turned down a purple heart carrying his buddy ashore on the Invasion of Guam.   They were fresh out of Camp Lejeune and told "to not become friends with anyone".   My grandpa said "that was impossible".    He then regretted not accepting it "because he would've gotten out sooner".    It's been 11 years since I've seen him and not one day goes by where I don't think of him.