Soon after I joined the ANG in 1985 I was chatting with GEN Erv Bucher, Ret'd, former Air Commander and WW11 Vet fighter pilot, we were talking about an Army Contracting officer, COL Stachel, he told me COL Stachel was a former German Fighter Pilot in WWII, somehow got US citizenship and even joined the Army! Not only that, the guy that told me about the job was a retired fighter pilot that flew P40's in the Pacific, Jack Ehlers, retired COL, said he swapped planes once with one of Pappy Boyington's Black Sheep Squadron and flew his Corsair. Life is too short huh?
My Dad was a B 17 pilot in WW2. I lost him a year ago, he was 83. I put his original pilot wings he wore on his uniform on my dash. I figure if it gave him enough luck to live through 26 missions, maybe it will keep me safe in my 40 cruzing down the hiway. If nothing else, I will think of him every time I get behind the wheel........
Not likely. Since they are all copyright by Life and Look magazine. My dad was in Europe, and my uncle was in Pearl. He was ashore at the time of the attack. The next two months basically ruined his life. He said it was day after day of collecting the dead and taking down all the body parts from places where they were hanging. He said his recurring nightmare was a pack of dogs fighting over a shredded and burnt body. A scene he saw one morning of the detail.
My neighbor across the street was there, serving in the Navy. He's still alive, but has diabetes so bad he cant feel his legs. The ****ed up thing is that the VA wont come get him to take him to his appointments. He says they have been jerking him around forever. He can still walk, but he cannot drive much anymore. Thank God for him and all the others that served and are serving for us.
Sad to see the WW2 generation fading away. I used to sit and watch do***enturys with my dad on WW1 and WW2. A very interesting time in history. Much respect for those who put themself in harms way..
I'm sitting here, in Afghanistan, with an infantry platoon, thinking of how nice it would be to be home, and all that.... And I think of how "hard" I actually have it. I've got three square meals, a solid roof, and a semi-comfy bunk. I've got internet access, AFN TV programming 24/7... yeah, I've got it real tough. Yeah, compared to my normal life, this is a hard existence. But compared to the men, the "real" men, that have gone before me... we're just a bunch of technologically spoiled wussies! I only hope the deeds that I do here, are as well remembered as those of the heros before me. "It is not the critic who counts, not the one who points out how the strong man stumbled, or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by the dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes up short again and agian; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotion and spends himself in a worthy cause; who at best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement; and who at worst if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly; so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat." Theodore Roosevelt, April 23, 1910 Sorbone, Paris. Lawrence W. Littig, Grandfather, USN, USS Bunker Hill WWII Richard Littig, Uncle US Army, Vietnam Daniel Lawrence Horndasch, Me, US Army '91-96 & 2006- till we're done.
A tip of the hat and salute for all who have served and those that are currently. As a Vietnam vet, I know the sacrifices you made. Thanks and get home soon. Mike
Your right Ianblaster,..... but let them talk and be very careful what you ask,....... for some combat Vet's some things can be more than just personal, they are things that live deep inside your soul, that need to stay hidden away,....... ( really hard to explain ). Let them talk and be quick to listen, but Honor that intamate privacy. TURBODAN,..... Thank you for your service and all that are serving with you, you all are in my prayers daily till your mission is complete. tell them a old Leather neck gives them a hearty OOOHHH-RAH !
So thats how you spell it I worked for a couple years at a museum, and got to see so many old timers get emotional about seeing the type plane that too them into battle. They would usually want to talk about their adventures, and many time their children would listen in awe. Then they would say- Dad, I never knew! Ask, many times they think you don't care.
PEDDRO, make sure you get out to the memorial at the Arizona. There are only two other places as stirring as that one. Standing on Galipoli on ANZAC day is one of the greatest memory's of my service, that and laying a reef at Kokoda after walking the trail. You cant take pictures on the Pearl Harbor memorial but when I was there you could have a pic taken for a few bucks. My patrol had our photo taken there and its on my wall. (Thinking about it, maybe they did that as a special thing for us??) Harms Way, sage words, a soldier, sailor or airman that fought have memories that do hide away. They gave it a name 'Shell shock', 'Battle fatigue' and now PTSD. I was diagnosed with it a few years ago, didn't even know there was something wrong until I woke up in the police lock up. Old soldiers love a tail, usually it will be a funny one they seem to be the ones we remember, or want to? I have posted this before, I like it and it can be changed to any service. The Soldier. It is the soldier, not the reporter, Who has given us the freedom of the press. It is the soldier, not the poet, Who has given us the freedom of speech. It is the soldier, not the campus organiser, Who has given us the freedom to demonstrate. It is the soldier, Who salutes the flag, Who serves beneath the flag, And whose coffin is d****d in the flag, Who allows the protester to disrespect the flag. Doc.
Sometimes they just don't want to remember. My Dad landed at Omaha Beach. It took taking him back there in '97 before he really opened up about it. Of course he had great stories about being stationed in Paris after the end of the war. He met and married my mom there. I joke that if it wasn't for Hitler, I wouldn't be here. One of his best stories is going out drinking in Paris. They'd buy bottles of Champagne, climb up to the top of the Eiffle Tower and consume them. Later of course, they needed to relieve themselves so they would "re-fill" the bottles and toss them off the top. They'd party until after the Metro would shut down at night. So they'd sleep in a park and then when the metro started running in the morning, they'd hop on, go to the boarding house they were at, take a shower, put on a clean uniform and report for duty.
The Jalopy Journal
