Many thanks to "The Greatest Generation"

[Maggie]

“Yesterday, December 7, 1941—a date which will live in infamy—the United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan… No matter how long it may take us to overcome this premeditated invasion, the American people will through their righteous might win through to absolute victory… With confidence in our armed forces-with the unbounded determination of our people-we will gain the inevitable triumph-so help us God. I, therefore, ask that the Congress declare that since the dastardly and unprovoked attack by Japan on Sunday, December seventh, a state of war has existed between the United States and the Japanese Empire.”

-President Franklin D. Roosevelt on Dec. 8, 1941, asking Congress to declare war on Japan

[Maggie]

I am sure many of us knew someone that served in WWII, my two great uncles did in very differing ways.

My Uncle Philip was stationed in Europe at the same time my Uncle Albert was in medical school in Italy. My Uncle Albert never immigrated with the rest of the family because he was ill as a baby and relatives convinced my grand parents it was best he stayed in Italy. This became a bad spot for the family as my Great Grandma's sister never wanted to give Albert "back" as she raised him.. anyway.

My family in Italy refused to join the Germans and were on the run a lot.  Albert was sitting in a cafe in Perugia one morning when the US Army came marching by.  Philip and Albert caught glances of each other and immediately knew who the other was.   Brothers united after many years....

Philip stayed in Italy and was able to visit Albert a lot.  After the war Albert resumed his medical training then came to the US after learning he had been held hostage from his family in the US.  

Although both have passed away both were my always my favorite Uncles for some many reasons.

[Buffalo]

My Dad spent the war on a PT boat in the Pacific.  He told me lots of stories, unfortunately all to long to go into here.  All my Mom's older brothers were also in the Navy on various kinds of ships.  My Father-In-Law was a gunner on a B-24 in Europe.   

[billg]

Thanks for sharing your family's story. I appreciate both their service.

[Maggie]

I always wondered how guys choose their different form of service to in to... Were you guys influenced by what relatives before you did?

[hexnut]

Uncle Sam made my decision...I was drafted.

[Maggie]

Uncle Sam made my decision...I was drafted.

Do they assign you to a certain service?

[hexnut]

The draft was for the Army with the exception of the late 60s when you could be drafted in the marines. They were drafting 40,000 a month for Vietnam. And they were not turning down many.

They would line every one up against the wall and every other one would go to the marines.

[Maggie]

Interesting, thanks for the info.

[hexnut]

Now I don't know about WW2. I was too young. I had a brother in the Navy during that time but he joined.

[Buffalo]

From what I'm told during WW2 you could be drafted into any branch of the service.  At that time the Air Force did not exist, it was part of the Army so you could definitely get drafted into it.   

That most of my family had been in the Navy played a part in my decision.  The other part was that I was about to get drafted into the Army which in the 60's basically meant you were headed for the jungles of Vietnam.  The day I went down to enlist the Air Force guy was out of town so I just signed up for the Navy. 

[Hoolander]

Maggie, that's a terrific story about your two uncles! 

My father joined the Army and was put in the Air Corps in a squadron of B-26's that migrated all around north Africa and the Mediterranean Sea.  Many stories told to me.  Some funny, some terrible.  He didn't like to dwell on the terrible ones. 

Two of his older brothers (my uncles) joined the Coast Guard and served in Florida. 

Dad always remembered when V.E. day and V.J. day were. 

[kelahoo]

My Dad was in WWII in the Navy as a radar technician.  Here is an article about my dad and son from our trip to Mt. Rushmore this year where they participated in the retiring of the colors ceremony.  http://www.yankton.net/articles/2011/09/03/community/doc4e619fe78afad051330538.txt

[gurock1]

Having spent a lot of time with my dad in the very recent past he has told and retold his story of WW II as well as some of the relatives.  Dad was born in Germany in 1925.  The family left Germany for France in 1933 where dad lived in Paris till 1940 when the family fled to the USA.  Dad finished high school in New York and started college in PA at Washington and Jefferson.  The army drafted him in 1944.  They gave all the draftees some aptitude test when they reported to Basic Training and decided to send dad to the University of North Carolina to work on a bachelor's in engineering.  Kind of a lucky break for dad.  On V.E. day they decided that they didn't need to train engineers at the government's expense and transferred dad to Fort Sam Houston in San Antonio, Texas.  Pop spent the next year as some minor clerk in the offices there and was discharged.  The closest dad came to combat was in 1940 when he was on an American passenger ship crossing from France to the USA and the ship was detained for several hours by a U-Boat who decided to let them go after some consideration.

On the other hand my dad's grandmother and two of his aunts were executed in Europe by the Nazis and he had two first cousins that served in the army, one in the field artillery from North Africa through Italy and France to the end of the war, and the other who spent the war as a bookkeeper for Fort Dix.

From what I've learned there were a whole variety of factors that decided where you served in WW II.  I was the attorney at one time for the Chicago branch of something called the “Over the Hump Club”.  These were all men who served flying in the Army Air Corp through the India, Burma, China campaign.  Many of them were shot down more then once by the Japanese and were truly heroes.  My law partners father was a navigator in that campaign shot down twice over China in 1942 and a true hero. 

I'd had another client who was an engineer when the war began and they assigned him to work on B-17s and later to fly the newly manufactured ones from the USA to England for use in the bombing campaign over Germany.  He had numerous stories of the planes limping across the Atlantic and almost dying.  The best was one where a section of the top of the plane ripped open over the North Atlantic and he landed in England suffering from severe hypothermia.

For those who never read it George McGovern wrote a great book about his experiences as a B-24 pilot out of Italy bombing southern Europe and Germany during much of the war.  Considering McGovern's views on Vietnam it's kind of hard to imagine he was a hero of WW II.

It's a shame that most of the WW II heroes have now died of old age.  Pop was 19 in 1944 when he was drafted and he's 86 now.  I remember growing up and meeting old guys that had fought in WW I.  We really need to document more of the experiences of the warriors and heroes of the Vietnam war before it gets to late.

It doesn't really matter what your views were of the war in Vietnam to understand that the men who went off to fight there for their country were heroes.  I personally hate war and have felt that the wars in my own life time were awful tragedies.  That doesn't in any way change the fact that our service people make sacrifice that qualify for 100% of our admiration and support.  This in fact has been my greatest distaste for the war that we've fought in Iraq.  I truly question whether that war was worth the blood of our young people that have been sent to fight there.  It seems that our government and people owe our military both the very best judgment in risking their lives in battle and then we owe them every ounce of support and respect there is when they come home from service.

So on a day like today it would be good if everyone would try to do something good if even only to give thanks to all our people who are serving or who served in the past for us.

[midlifecrisis]

I am sure many of us knew someone that served in WWII, my two great uncles did in very differing ways.

My Uncle Philip was stationed in Europe at the same time my Uncle Albert was in medical school in Italy. My Uncle Albert never immigrated with the rest of the family because he was ill as a baby and relatives convinced my grand parents it was best he stayed in Italy. This became a bad spot for the family as my Great Grandma's sister never wanted to give Albert "back" as she raised him.. anyway.

My family in Italy refused to join the Germans and were on the run a lot.  Albert was sitting in a cafe in Perugia one morning when the US Army came marching by.  Philip and Albert caught glances of each other and immediately knew who the other was.   Brothers united after many years....

Philip stayed in Italy and was able to visit Albert a lot.  After the war Albert resumed his medical training then came to the US after learning he had been held hostage from his family in the US.  

Although both have passed away both were my always my favorite Uncles for some many reasons.

I love "personal" history 

[midlifecrisis]

My dad was a bomber/navigator in WWII but also spent time in Canada/USA training air crew.

[Maggie]

Those are all great stories, thanks for sharing!

I hope these types of stories are shared forever so none of our Heroes are ever forgotten! (From any of our serving men around the world)

[midlifecrisis]

Not completely sure, but thought I had posted some pics of my Dad when he was "working" 

Must be on here somewhere 

[billg]

My father joined the Army Air Corps in '47, transitioned to the "new" Air Force and spent 28 yrs in.  He was the only military person on either side of the family.  I grew up as an Air Force "brat" so that influenced my decision.  Once I got older and looked at the different services I decided that was the way for me. 

My brother was the same, but when he was in college and wanted to get into the AF ROTC program (post VN) they were downsizing and doing some funky things so he elected the Marine Corp PLC program during college and got his commission when he graduated.  It turned out ok for him, too.

[masscoot]

My dad served in the Armys 8th Armored Division 398th Arm'd Field Artillery Battallion, HQ.  On June 6, 1944 he turned 18 as he boarded a Higgins boat headed for Normandy.  His unit was delayed by the terrible weather and landed +3 days.  They moved through France and the Ardennes headed for what came to be known as the Battle of the Bulge.  During that time he was pretty banged up when is jeep collided with a halftrack.  Like many he spoke very little about his time in europe.  After his passing in '97 we found a briefcase containing lots of info.  He was very active in the DAV and attended all of his units reunions.  When planning started for the WWII Memorial he wrote letters and lobbied everyone he could reach in support of the project.  Sadly he never got to see the beautiful memorial build for the HEROS of this war.  I have visited both the WWII memorial in DC and the WWII museum in New Orleans in his honor, he would be so proud of the results!  I have also been fortunate to participate in several Honor Flights (send offs and returns) which fly groups of WWII vets to DC to see their memorial.  I see a little of my dad in the eyes of each of these surviving warriors and salute the sacrifice they gave to preserve the freedom we enjoy today!

[Didiki]

When this subject came up I phoned my Dad about how he got into WWII.

When war was declared on 03 September 1939, I was all of six months old.  My Dad, together with his younger brother and their best friend who would become my Uncle, all went down to the local recruiting office and voluntarily signed up.  They were told that they would be home by Christmas 1939, when Herr Hitler came to his senses.  Famous last words. The three of them then went to see the movie "Gunga Din", and they came out of the movie house thinking that they would become Sergeants and have a hell of a good time in the forces.

As all three of them had been working as apprentice aircraft mechanics, they were immediately sent to local Royal Air Force (RAF) stations.  They didn't go through basic training because of their aircraft mechanical background.  My Dad's first posting at his air base was being put in charge of a machine gun crew.  He had never even seen a gun in his life, and didn't know one end of the machine gun from the other.  When he did have to fire the machine gun, he said he just pointed it at the sky closed his eyes and pulled the trigger.

All three of them were involved as ground crew during the Battle of Britain.  They would fix up the planes - they called them kites - and get them back in the air asap.  

My Dad's war years were from 1939 to 1946.  He was in northern Italy when peace was declared in Europe in May 1945, but stayed in for several more months to overhaul a bunch of planes for transport back to England.
He saw action during the Battle of Britain, ground crew training in Canada, the North African campaign, and the Sicily and Italy campaigns.

One story my Dad always tells is the night he was on guard duty at his air base in Tunisia, North Africa. Security was tight, not because of the Germans, but because of the local Arabs, (he still calls them A-rabs), stealing anything that wasn't nailed down.  Anyway, it was pitch black and he heard a noise like a plopping sound.  He challenged it, no answer.  He asked for the password, still no answer.  He said "Stop, or I'll shoot".  Still no answer, so he took a shot at whatever it was.  The shot roused the camp, and a detail came running.  Searchlights revealed that the noise was a large toad, and my old man had the dubious pleasure of shooting a frog.  He was put on report, and his punishment for being such an idiot, was to march 5 miles in full military gear in the blazing North African sun.

He also had the dubious pleasure of scoring a goal against his own team during an Air Force - Army soccer game.  The Army loved him, the Royal Air Force just threw up their hands in disgust.

My mother went to work in an ammunitions factory.  She ended up in Hospital twice.  Once when she was blown out through a window and the other time when she was blown out through a door when the ammunitions factory was bombed.  I was raised by my grandparents during the war years and really didn't know my parents until 1946.  Then my brother was born in 1947 and we came to Canada in 1948.

My 4 uncles on my mother's side of the family all went into the British Army.  They saw action in North Africa with Montgomery and Rommel.  All are now deceased.  My Uncle Bill was a motorcycle dispatch rider and came ashore with the first wave on D Day 06 June 1944.  He had no idea what was happening because his bike got stuck in the sand and he had a hell of a time getting it off the beach.  He said there were bullets flying all over the place and bombs going off but all he could think about was, "Bloody Germans, bloody sand,
and now I'm bloody lost".  All my Uncles were "Tommies" slugging it out through France, Belgium, Holland and into Germany.

All of them would only relate the funny parts of their war experiences.

My Dad, now 93 years old, is the only surviving member of our family who fought in WWII.

_______
Dick

[Maggie]

Thanks for sharing! There were a lot of scarifies by a lot of people.

[Burgi]

My dad was working as a toolie in Detroit, a job that was considered vital to the nations defense, so he wasn't drafted until 1943.  He said he was asked if he want sea or land, he said sea and they stamped his papers ARMY. Next he was asked if he wanted hot or cold. He thought he had the system figured out this time so he said cold (he wanted South Pacific) they granted his wish, and sent him to Nome, Alaska. Can't get much colder than that.  
They made him a pilot, he said he didn't know why. He was a mechanic so he had to be able to fly everything to test the planes.  The airfield he was stationed at was the final stop in the US for planes we lent to Russia. If any Russians crashed in the US it was one of his responsibilities to go search for the wreckage. The gov't insisted that any all bodies had to be accounted for and sent back. Needless to say this was an impossible task so the bodies that went back weren't always Russians.  
One of my uncles was stationed in the Aleutian Islands. The only place in the US where there was ground combat. He said they liked to keep the guys from Alaska in Alaska since they were already accustomed to surviving in that climate. Another uncle was in the Navy, I don't think he ever left the states either.

My husband was drafted for Vietnam. He only got a say in his Army job because he signed on for an extra year so he could pick his school. Kept him out of the infantry but he still did his year over there with the 5th Special Forces.

[Buffalo]

One of my uncles was stationed in the Aleutian Islands. The only place in the US where there was ground combat. He said they liked to keep the guys from Alaska in Alaska since they were already accustomed to surviving in that climate.

One of my Uncles was in the Aleutians.  He spent the war on a destroyer patrolling them.  His ship was involved in the mission to recapture Attu Island.  

Speaking of hot and cold, my Dad did his boot camp at the Great Lakes in the dead of the winter.  He then was sent to the Solomon islands where it's never cold.  

PT boats were so small that they really did not have sleeping quarters on them.  Most of the time their patrols were short and they came back to base and slept in tents.  When they did have to spend a few days at sea they usually slept out on the open deck.

They also did not have much in the way of cooking facilities.  Dad said they basically just had a hot plate and a coffee pot.  They also did not have refrigeration so what food they took on patrol had to be non perishable.  Most of their meals were just Spam, toast and coffee.  He said he ate enough Spam in the few years he was over there to last him a life time so he wouldn't eat it anymore.          

One of the campaigns he told me about was the Leyte Gulf Battle.  The PT boats were sent up the Surigao Strait to act as pickets to spot the Japanese fleet when they came through.  Behind them were the destroyers also acting as pickets then the cruisers and battleships in battle line across the straight.  When Dad's boat spotted the Japanese they radioed the contact then launched their torpedoes at the fleet and turned and ran back down the straight toward the Allies fleet.  As they were headed down the straight in the dark they ran aground on a reef.  They were stranded there watching the big ships firing back and forth at each other over them.      

[Burgi]

All three of them were involved as ground crew during the Battle of Britain. 

Didiki, I can't even imagine what you Brits went through. One of my aunts immigrated, through Canada, just after the war.

[Dan]

I was surprised at how moved I was when I visited Pearl Harbor this year.  I understood the significance of the day but actually going to the site and touring the museum and memorial really frames the events for me in a way I had not comprehended before.  It becomes a lot less of an abstract historical event and a much more visceral and if you're an American, a personal experience.

Some photos that day at the Arizona Memorial...

[MikeO]

My Dad was in the Royal Signals Regiment; typical British 'appointment' - he was blind as a bat without his specs but he was brilliant at sending and receiving Morse Code.
His mother, who lived in Tottenham, was bombed out twice. Fortunately, much of her furniture was stored in the Tottenham Hotspur Football Ground at White Hat Lane.

One uncle was in the Army in the Far East but rarely spoke of it - I think he was in the jungles of Malaya and it was pretty grim.
Another uncle was in the RAF as a technician; another typical Brirish move - he was suppose to repair areoplane radios but didn't know which end of a screw-driver to hold. He reckoned he was responsible for more allied crashes that the enemy. Not true, of course, and his mates made sure he didn't get anywhere near an aeroplane, let alone the radio in it.
He was a lovely man and, so we heard from old comrades when he died, kept the troops entertained (he was a hilariously funny man) which more than made up for everything else.
He spent much of his time in action in Italy.
My Ma was teaching in North London at the time and spent many hours with the children in air-raid shelters. When the children (5-11yo) needed the loo, they had to be accompanied across the playground. My Ma always said she didn't know what she was supposed to do if a bomb dropped - catch it?

Opposite our house lived a woman who had two brothers. One was captured by the Japanese but survived. The other was a Spitfire pilot and disappeared in the Channel after a mission in France.
His body wasn't recovered but I happened upon his name in a Book of Remembrance when I visited an RAF museum in the south of England a few years ago.
I went to the same school as he had, too, and his name was on the school war memorial.

My partner's dad was shipped to Germany from Belgium as forced labour.
He survived but it wasn't nice.