OT: 73rd anniversary of Operation Overlord

With the number of WWII vets dwindling with each passing year, I always find myself stopping to remember and appreciate what that generation went through and contributed to our country on these anniversaries. Seventy three years ago today was the beginning of the allied invasion of Normandy that led to the liberation of Europe from the Nazi's.

I had the opportunity to visit Omaha and Utah Beach about 15 years ago. It had a great impact on me seeing the bomb crater filled landscape, and the huge concrete gun emplacements that were still intact after all these years. Especially around Pointe Du Hoc, the area was left preserved as a monument to the men who fought there.

I know for me personally, I always got along better with that generation than I do with my own and I really miss not having my WWII vet grandfathers around any more. To me their sense of humor was second to none, and they weren't as thin skinned as later generations. I guess they had actually been through real hard times in their lives, so they didn't let little things get to them.

I really wish I had the opportunity to work with some of the guys from the WWII generation. Does anyone have any good stories about any of these guys that you worked with over the years? Or maybe any stories of family members from that era?

-Tim

Frenchy said:

With the number of WWII vets dwindling with each passing year, I always find myself stopping to remember and appreciate what that generation went through and contributed to our country on these anniversaries. Seventy three years ago today was the beginning of the allied invasion of Normandy that led to the liberation of Europe from the Nazi's.

I had the opportunity to visit Omaha and Utah Beach about 15 years ago. It had a great impact on me seeing the bomb crater filled landscape, and the huge concrete gun emplacements that were still intact after all these years. Especially around Pointe Du Hoc, the area was left preserved as a monument to the men who fought there.

I know for me personally, I always got along better with that generation than I do with my own and I really miss not having my WWII vet grandfathers around any more. To me their sense of humor was second to none, and they weren't as thin skinned as later generations. I guess they had actually been through real hard times in their lives, so they didn't let little things get to them.

I really wish I had the opportunity to work with some of the guys from the WWII generation. Does anyone have any good stories about any of these guys that you worked with over the years? Or maybe any stories of family members from that era?

-Tim

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Lets don't forget The greatest naval victory in history, the battle of Midway. June 4-7 1942, 75 years ago today. The turning point in the war in the pacific.

Seabees

If you want to read some stories about American workers at war, I suggest "Can Do! The Story of the Seabees"

There's a lot in there about making and repairing things without the proper tools and materials, sometimes under enemy fire. What would you do if a vital piece of construction equipment blew a head gasket and NONE were available, not even the proper raw materials to make one?

The U.S. Army Corps of Engineers were in the same league. This was the generation who built the Golden Gate Bridge and the great dams out west.

John Ruth
The Son of a WW2 Seabee

My father received a Purple Heart at the Battle of the Bulge. Frostbite.
He rarely talked about it. It was a nasty business.
The GI bill sent him to Carnegie Mellon where he earned a degree in architecture.
Went on to design Pittsburghs 3 Rivers Stadium.

My grandpa had some funny stories from when he was on a troop ship heading over to Europe. He said that on one occasion an old regular navy guy asked if he wanted to see something funny. Of course Gramps said yes. They were standing next to the head on the ship, which consisted of several crapper seats in a row and a trough with water flowing under all of them. The old sailor crumpled up a piece of paper and lit it on fire and dropped it into a vent stack on one end. Gramps said one after another all the guys on the toilets popped up yelling while he and the sailor were rolling on the ground laughing as the smell of burnt hair filled the air!

Another story from the troop ship was during some bad weather on their crossing. He said another soldier leaned over the railing to ralph and his dentures went flying out with the puke. The guy managed to grab them out of the air, give them one good shake, and pop them back in his mouth! He turned to my grandpa and gave him a big ol' grin and then walked away.

Also the Liberty ship that they were on was one that had the patch job across the middle of the hull to keep it from coming apart as other ships had. To quote Gramps, "Everyone on board was keeping an eye on that patch job and walking around with very tight sphincters during the bad weather."

My grandpa's unit was quarantined in New Jersey before shipping out for England because someone had smallpox or something like that. If it wasn't for that he probably would have gone ashore on D-Day. As it turned out, he drove a truck ashore off of an LST about a week and a half later, just in time to be bogged down in hedgerow country before the St. Lo breakthrough.

The model shop in my first job was filled with WWII vets. It was a mix of Brits, Germans and one poor picked on Frenchman.
They never talked about what they did but one day one of the engineers pointed to one the machinists and said Fritz over there flew ME 109's in the war. Fritz was the one of the quietest most humble men you could ever meet. Except for that time I left the lathe chip pan dirty. Boy did I get an earful.

Having walked those; beaches, drop zones and hedge rows the 18-19 year old soldiers, sailors and airmen as well as the planners and great, on the ground commanders pulled off the impossible.

Thanks to all of them.

Erich said:

The model shop in my first job was filled with WWII vets. It was a mix of Brits, Germans and one poor picked on Frenchman.
They never talked about what they did but one day one of the engineers pointed to one the machinists and said Fritz over there flew ME 109's in the war. Fritz was the one of the quietest most humble men you could ever meet. Except for that time I left the lathe chip pan dirty. Boy did I get an earful.

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Always pickin' on the poor Frenchmen! I'm only a quarter French (hence my nickname), but I'm proud of the contribution my French relatives made. My great-grandfather was a railroad engineer who risked his own life smuggling Jews and other people out of the country under the coal in his tender car. He had to be sure to bury the people deep enough because the Germans would bayonet the coal bed at their checkpoints.

My grandmother and great grandmother helped care for wounded and dying men, not paying any attention to what uniform they had on.

Yeah, The Brits would good natured ride the German machinists, and the Germans would give it right back to them. But both would ride Jean unmercifully. He gave as good as he got but it he was just one voice. It was a very different world than anything this southern California boy had experienced up to that time.

Got a man that lives next door that earned a Purple Heart 73 years ago today on the beach. He and his wife are dear people (he found her in Italy after the war. Dinner is always nice!)
Bill is getting on in years obviously, can't do what he used to do. I do all sorts of little handyman stuff around their house. He gets a bit pissed when I won't let him pay me. I keep trying to tell him he's been paid up full since '44.

rustytool said:

My father received a Purple Heart at the Battle of the Bulge. Frostbite.
He rarely talked about it. It was a nasty business.
The GI bill sent him to Carnegie Mellon where he earned a degree in architecture.
Went on to design Pittsburghs 3 Rivers Stadium.

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Father of my "machinist godfather" earned a Purple Heart in the Battle of the Bulge. He is in his 90's, can barely walk, and last time I saw him he was installing a small sawblade into his 4-1/2 grinder because he wanted to cut new lumber flush with his porch. He can barely move, but will not stop.
Neighbor around the block also gained the Purple Heart, also in the Battle of the Bulge. He held many church callings, and when I was in his ward (congregation for us mormons) he gave a speech to all of the teenage boys and girls about watching his friend "explode like a chicken" after climbing out of their foxhole. He told his companion not to climb out...

Chilling. These guys are the epitome of quiet dignity.

On a side note, a few years ago my brother somehow fanangled an interview with the last living American WWI veteran, Frank Buckles. That man faked his ID to join at 16 years old, if I remember right.

A story of the first wave at Omaha Beach.

I am astounded by the courage of these brave men.

First Wave at Omaha Beach - The Atlantic

I visit an ex workmate every couple of weeks. He's 96 now and moves a bit slowly but he's still got all his marbles. He's just had an hearing aid and that's been a boon for him.

He was in the Royal Marines as a Bren gunner. His landing craft was hit going ashore at Dieppe and Jack was blown overboard and he ended up in the English Channel for a couple of hours before a destroyer rescued him. Of course his Bren gun ended up at the bottom of the sea as he would have drowned if he had have held onto it.
When he got back to England they wanted to take the cost of the Bren gun out of his pay !

After that he spent the rest of the war in the Balkans, Italy and Greece. The toughest fighting men he ever came across - he says the Greek partisans. He still has a piece of German grenade in his thigh from his time in Italy.

He'd had a hip joint replacement done on the NHS quite a few years ago but it went wrong recently. When he asked for it to be replaced the surgeon refused saying the operation might kill him at his age.

Jack said - " Look doc I've had blokes trying to kill me deliberately, I'll not blame you if you do it accidentally. "

He had the operation.

Regards Tyrone.

The piece of grenade came when his squad had been out on a night patrol in Italy. They were making their way back to their own lines in pitch darkness and loose formation when a member of the Hitler Youth got in amongst the Commandoes and made his way back with them.

When they got near the lines they bunched up and the young German threw a stick grenade in among the the Marines. Jack and a few other guys were wounded and the Hitler Youth guy was shot dead by other members of Jack's patrol.

Suicide attackers are nothing new apparently.

Regards Tyrone.

If you like and want to help or be with these veterans get invloved with "Freedom Honor Flights". Google it and go on a flight.

Little bit more on my neighbor Bill. I heard through NPR that any WWII vet that helped liberate France was eligible for the French Legion of Honor, a pretty high award. My lady friend speaks fluent French, we got all the info on how to do it. Bill wouldn't even have to go to Atlanta to pick it up. So we then told him about it.
"Another **** ribbon? I don't need any more ribbons."

I had the good luck to work with a man who went ashore on D day. He was a bazooka carrier. He told great stories about the
troop ships. How the weather was so rough, the food had to be put down in thick sauce, and even then the plates would zing
the length of the tables (bolted to the deck!) and they would smash into the bulkheads. The other men would come along and
slip in the mess, and their plates woudl go flying too.

He said he never did get seasick throught the voyage, and the meals would be 'paid for' by handing over tickets that you got at the
start of the trip. His bunkmates were dreadfully sick, and he would announce that he was going for a meal, and would they
like him to bring some food back.

HOWLS of anguish at the though, they told him to take their tickets and DON'T bring anyhing back.

So Jim Daly had all he wanted to eat, that entire trip.

He was the best guy, he kept a special chair in his lab for when visitors would show up, you would sit their and talk. The payment
was, you had to listen to his stories. I took every chance to chat with him.