Observations on what happened on or around 70 years ago today (sorry, it rambles a bit):
This month precisely 70 years ago, April, 1945, Berlin had been breached by the Russians and two weeks from now there would be Victory in Europe Day.
According to the mission chart of my father’s plane, which I have no reason to believe he was not on, his B-24, with no name, on April 16 bombed a place called Landshut. The mission lasted 8 hours and 34 minutes. His bomb group (467th) was based in Rackheath, Norfolk.
His mission chart indicates that his plane was the lead aircraft on the raid, using some new radar technology called H2X.
All this, if my father were alive today (he died in 2008, aged 86) would not have remembered. He did remember that his plane had been selected as the lead plane for a number of missions, but, 60-odd years later, he couldn’t remember any details.
This month, April 2015, is a historic milestone and possibly the last of its kind; it will mark the last round-numbered anniversary of the end of WWII that will see any actual fighting men still alive.
If you had somehow joined an armed force at age 17 – the lowest age I can think of, at least on the Allies’ side – and participated in any form of combat in the ETO (European Theater of Operation) in 1945, and had still been 17 in April, you would now have to be 87 years old. (My math is horrible – correct me if I’m wrong.)
That means that if you somehow survive to the next round number, the 80th anniversary, you will be 97 years old.
There will be precious few that will reach that age. Thus, at conventions everywhere for armed forces reunions, very few actual combat veterans will be taking part.
So pretty soon, there will be no one left alive to be able to say, “I was there.” There will be no one to grill on fine details, no one writing their memoirs; the chapter of WWII for actual participants will be over. From now on, there will only be their descendants and historians who will have heard the stories “from the horses’ mouths,” so to speak.
It’s an incredibly important anniversary month in human history.
I remember that when I was younger (so much younger than today!) one would occasionally run across news items mentioning that So-and-so, who actually was alive during the Civil War had died, and how the numbers of survivors was dwindling.
Then, it became WWI’s “last veteran surviving” – I don’t think anyone who saw actual combat in 1918 could possibly be alive today, as they would have to be around 115 years old – and now it’s WWII.
I might be blind, but I see very few media commemorations of the 70th anniversary. National Geographic magazine inexplicably ran an issue focusing on Abraham Lincoln. Abraham Lincoln?
70 years ago on this very day, Hitler was alive, as were most of his cronies. In fact, just four days ago on April 22, it was the 70th anniversary of the day Hitler actually delivered his rant that was depicted in the movie “Downfall,” which has become a mini-industry on YouTube (Google “Hitler rant parody”).
In four days, on April 30, it will be the 70th anniversary of the day Hitler committed suicide in the bunker. If he were somehow alive today, he would have to be 125 years old.
I myself was not yet to be born for another 12 years. Incredibly, I can say that I am only physically separated from the existence one of the most destructive despots ever to have lived by 12 years . . . scary.