S
S Roche
Guest
Sad day here. 1st Marine Div. soldier who made the walk from Chosin passed away due to the virus. Damn good man.
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Sorry for your loss , hand salute and much respect ...may he Rest In Peace !My father passed this am at age 89.
He's on the far right (nearest) SFC, Korea. Pic taken coming home, dated 1953 Chicago.
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He qualified expert rifle and was shipped off to Korea. When they found out he could type quite well, he was moved off to a staff role.
Graduated with a PhD law, Ohio State, married 62 yrs. I'm going to miss him, we spent a couple nights a week playing scrabble.
I wasn’t military, but the story is pertinent.We had a Paramedic student doing some of his Ambulance ride time with us one day. He was a former 68W with two combat tours behind him. Good guy, real good skills. We get a call for unknown medical...turns out to be a guy flipping out. Family say's he's being treated for PTSD. The student ask him where he was and the guy said Fort Gordon. No... where were you deployed. Nowhere just Fort Gordon. The student excused himself and waited outside.
Yep. I was just thinking that most of MY friends are gone and Im just shy of 72.At our monthly Liars Club breakfast (as I call it) this morning I had the privilege of meeting a local survivor of the Battle of the Bulge. A member who’s a friend of his brought him along and introduced him. He didn’t talk about it and we didn’t ask. Although my buddy whispered to me that he was highly decorated and still carries shrapnel in his legs.
During the meal and chatter I couldn’t help but to sneak a look at him and the deep lines in that tough weathered face that gave a smile every time he looked up at someone. I tried to imagine what he has seen and knows about war and fighting. As we broke up I went over to meet him and thank him and was pleasantly surprised at the strength of his grip as we shook hands.
As I was driving home I realized that all of my friends and family and everyone I knew who served in WWII are gone and just how special this morning was.
Add this one to the saved the world statement:Back in the day when M1-A's were king and AR15's were just starting to become the new best set up in NRA Highpower I would still shoot my NM M1. One match at Camp Smith a friend asked why I still did that knowing I had a NM M1-A that was top of the line. I said because this rifle saved the World. The Dad of one of the guy's on the line heard me say it. He was a WWII Vet. He came over and shook my hand, grinning from ear to ear. His son told that story many times when we were in the pits. He said his Father really appreciated hearing that.
My mother survived Hiter, my grandmother did not. Though still alive sadly can't recall the tales.
Thats true, like what Russian soldiers did to her at age 11 in "East" Germany, her family's "midnight" run through holes in barbed wire to West. She fasted for 3 days for Hillary not to win...she had her memory then. She still has a copy of the Constitution she received when naturalized in her wallet. Despite being barely alive, in Biden-level throws of dementia, and literally doesn't remember where to defecate, she has enough brain cells left to appreciate that whats going on is disgraceful."sadly"....might be a gift depending....
Thats true, like what Russian soldiers did to her at age 11 in "East" Germany, her family's "midnight" run through holes in barbed wire to West. She fasted for 3 days for Hillary not to win...she had her memory then. She still has a copy of the Constitution she received when naturalized in her wallet. Despite being barely alive, in Biden-level throws of dementia, and literally doesn't remember where to defecate, she has enough brain cells left to appreciate that whats going on is disgraceful.
At our monthly Liars Club breakfast (as I call it) this morning I had the privilege of meeting a local survivor of the Battle of the Bulge. A member who’s a friend of his brought him along and introduced him. He didn’t talk about it and we didn’t ask. Although my buddy whispered to me that he was highly decorated and still carries shrapnel in his legs.
During the meal and chatter I couldn’t help but to sneak a look at him and the deep lines in that tough weathered face that gave a smile every time he looked up at someone. I tried to imagine what he has seen and knows about war and fighting. As we broke up I went over to meet him and thank him and was pleasantly surprised at the strength of his grip as we shook hands.
As I was driving home I realized that all of my friends and family and everyone I knew who served in WWII are gone and just how special this morning was.
They don't make them like they used to.Since it's back up.
My dad died about 10 years ago, aged 96.
Navy vet, WWII, south Pacific.
Best memory I have is from when I was about 4-5 years old and we were at the beach. He puts me on his shoulders and then swims out past the breakers, around a bit, and then back in.
To this day it still floors me......I mean how ?
I dare anyone to strap 40-50 lbs on their shoulders and go swim about 1/2 mile.
I can't do it and wouldn't even consider trying.
Tough old fucker.
RIP.........your service here has ended...........Les Cruise 82nd Airborne
Wetzel and Son - obituary for Leslie Palmer Cruise Jr.
www.wetzelandson.com
Hey, what ship was he on? My pop (dads side) was there too on the SS Santa Fe. He was in some big fights including IWO. He wouldn't talk much about the war for pretty much my whole life, but when I was started in my career and he was about 83 or 84, and my grandma had been gone for several years, he finally started telling me about it.My grandfather was a deck machine gunner on a battleship in the Pacific. I grew up respecting him more than any person ever. He was a quiet, smart, hard man. Everyone respected him. He was a flirt with the ladies, and a friend to other men. I will never forget his stories, wisdom shared, and his actions as a model for how to live my life.
Once in a while he would tell me stories about the war. When he spoke, nothing else in the world existed to me. I gave every bit of myself to listening, studying, imagining, and trying to absorb all of it. Those moments were some of my most cherished memories.
When he was 10, he...a friend...and his brother went to break into a store at night. He was the youngest of this trio. The store owner was sleeping in the back with a shotgun, and the boys had a gun. A gunfight brokeout. I think the store owner was hit. My grandfather ran away (both parents were deceased and he was youngest of 10) and spent the next few years hitchhiking the country. He traveled around working on farms and learning about life by living on the road. This was the early '30s, times were different. He was a wild youth with a very colorful background. Later he ends up in the Navy.
He talked about shooting down Kamikazes. One of the tricks they would do is to put women pilots in. The women would open the cockpits and let their long black hair blow freely in the wind outside the cockpit which would cause some sailors to freeze up and not shoot.
The sailors would filter torpedo fuel through a bunch of loaves of bread. The final product was a drinkable alcohol...or at least it was to a bunch of amped sailors in the pacific waiting for the next big battle.
He took a bullet once into his helmet. He said it came in at just the right angle, it followed the contour of his helmet and circled his head a bunch really fast and hot before he could whip the helmet off. Said it was loud and hot!
These were incredible men and I am honored to have known some and love that there are still some walking among us. I could never measure up to their greatness. In my opinion, they were the pinnacle. Everything after them is just a softer version. They were hard mother f'ers when they needed to be, and when they were done saving the world they just went back to doing everyday normal business. Most never talked about it, none wanted attention for it, and many suffered trauma but hid it inside.
Thank you for starting this thread. May each of us live life like these great men did.
Also, since we are paying our respects, let's not forget about the sacrifice of the great women too. A lot of mothers sent their boys and husbands off to war to never have them return. A lot of women joined the effort by going to work in the factories, and taking care of the kids at the same time. They were tough, loving women who did their part without complaining. Just like the men, the later versions are softer.
Cheers to the greatest generation!