And they were nearly as courageous as Bruce Jenner.
Meme I saw recently: If BJ can keep his tallywhacker & be considered a chick, can I keep my guns and be considered unarmed?
I had 2 uncles who served; the Polack in a B-17 and the Nip in the 442nd RCT. Better men than me, and I’m not afraid to admit it.
Slant, that is one hell of a pedigree.
I have walked some to the USA cemeteries in Europe and visited some of the battlefields from WWI and WWII and we, the USA did a good job, paying a high price to help clean up those power struggle messes. My dad and three uncles served in WWII including an uncle at Bastogne “Battle of the Bulge” and another uncle B-17 navigator, my dad was a 40 year old school superintendent who was called up and he spent the war as a personnel major in Texas helping run basic training at Mineral Wells. They also serve who push and file paper, it was never a question when my brother cousin and I were old enough to be in the Army and we did our time. God Bless the USA !
I’ve shared that my dad traveled through Europe at Uncle Sam’s expense as a medic with the First Infantry Division. He grew up on a farm in northeastern Pennsylvania and said that the army gave him his first pair of new shoes, his first suit of new clothes, and a new Dodge truck to drive. We forget how bad things were in the 1930s.
Like most men of that time he didn’t talk a lot about the war until many years had passed and I’d served in the military too. Even then it took a couple of beers to get the stories going.
Because Dad was a farm boy, he was surprised to see how much of the German army used horses. He said that most of the German troops he saw walked, rode bicycles, or used wagons or old broken down French trucks and cars for transportation. So much for the famous and feared panzers. He said that he felt sorry for the dead and injured horses because they had no choice. France and Germany smelled of dead animals – and dead people.
“Like most men of that time he didn’t talk a lot about the war…”
My great-uncle Satoru NEVER talked about it, even when pestered about it by yours truly. After Uncle Sat died, we mobilized a caravan of pickups to move Aunty Shizu into the condo she’d bought. I grabbed a box from the master bedroom & it broke open. Out spilled Uncle Sat’s war memorabilia, including his Purple Heart & Silver Star, along with the written citations of what he’d done to earn those decorations. Aunty Shizu walked in on me and said “You found the lucky charms!”
She explained Uncle Sat felt it would’ve been vulgar to display his medals. He saw them mostly as reminders of his brothers who never made it home to their families, & tokens of his own stupendous luck (because getting your leg blown off is stupendously lucky. In case you were wondering). Aunty Shizu wound up calling them “lucky charms.” A private endearment between the two of them.
Except for Uncle Sat & Aunty Shizu, I am the 1st member of the family to have ever laid eyes on those awards before 2004. He’d never even shown them to their daughter.
Prideful shame!
It is something found in a lot of gallant heros:
Pride in the large accomplishment, mixed with a shame that others thought to be better never came back.
And they were nearly as courageous as Bruce Jenner.
Meme I saw recently: If BJ can keep his tallywhacker & be considered a chick, can I keep my guns and be considered unarmed?
I had 2 uncles who served; the Polack in a B-17 and the Nip in the 442nd RCT. Better men than me, and I’m not afraid to admit it.
Slant, that is one hell of a pedigree.
I have walked some to the USA cemeteries in Europe and visited some of the battlefields from WWI and WWII and we, the USA did a good job, paying a high price to help clean up those power struggle messes. My dad and three uncles served in WWII including an uncle at Bastogne “Battle of the Bulge” and another uncle B-17 navigator, my dad was a 40 year old school superintendent who was called up and he spent the war as a personnel major in Texas helping run basic training at Mineral Wells. They also serve who push and file paper, it was never a question when my brother cousin and I were old enough to be in the Army and we did our time. God Bless the USA !
I’ve shared that my dad traveled through Europe at Uncle Sam’s expense as a medic with the First Infantry Division. He grew up on a farm in northeastern Pennsylvania and said that the army gave him his first pair of new shoes, his first suit of new clothes, and a new Dodge truck to drive. We forget how bad things were in the 1930s.
Like most men of that time he didn’t talk a lot about the war until many years had passed and I’d served in the military too. Even then it took a couple of beers to get the stories going.
Because Dad was a farm boy, he was surprised to see how much of the German army used horses. He said that most of the German troops he saw walked, rode bicycles, or used wagons or old broken down French trucks and cars for transportation. So much for the famous and feared panzers. He said that he felt sorry for the dead and injured horses because they had no choice. France and Germany smelled of dead animals – and dead people.
“Like most men of that time he didn’t talk a lot about the war…”
My great-uncle Satoru NEVER talked about it, even when pestered about it by yours truly. After Uncle Sat died, we mobilized a caravan of pickups to move Aunty Shizu into the condo she’d bought. I grabbed a box from the master bedroom & it broke open. Out spilled Uncle Sat’s war memorabilia, including his Purple Heart & Silver Star, along with the written citations of what he’d done to earn those decorations. Aunty Shizu walked in on me and said “You found the lucky charms!”
She explained Uncle Sat felt it would’ve been vulgar to display his medals. He saw them mostly as reminders of his brothers who never made it home to their families, & tokens of his own stupendous luck (because getting your leg blown off is stupendously lucky. In case you were wondering). Aunty Shizu wound up calling them “lucky charms.” A private endearment between the two of them.
Except for Uncle Sat & Aunty Shizu, I am the 1st member of the family to have ever laid eyes on those awards before 2004. He’d never even shown them to their daughter.
Prideful shame!
It is something found in a lot of gallant heros:
Pride in the large accomplishment, mixed with a shame that others thought to be better never came back.