I am very moved by many of these posts. My dad died just recently at the age of 77. He was in the Army Air Corps and served as a gunner on a B-29 stationed in Saipan. He earned the Air Medal with 2 open leaf clusters, the DSC Flying Cross, and a good conduct medal.
In his last few years, he finally got back into contact with the surviving members of his crew and they spoke frequently. He spent a lot of time watching specials on tv about the war, and reading everything he could get his hands on concerning that time. He never talked about it when he was younger, I guess it took time for him to reopen those memories and come to terms with them.
I have often wondered why I hear so much more about Vietnam Memorials than I do about WWII Memorials?
Thank you, Coldfire, for this post. I knew I liked you for a reason. It’s good to know that those who served so long ago, aren’t forgotten.
learae
Coldfire:
On behalf of the present and past troopers of the 82nd Airborne, I thank you for your words. We remember the sacrifice and valor of our fallen comrades, american and otherwise, every May at Division review. Your words will be in the thoughts of one of them.
MTKup
I would like to thank Christi for succesfully nominating this thread for the Threadspotting feature on the SD front page. I feel strongly about this topic, and this thread can therefore use all the attention it can possibly get: because anybody should feel strongly about it.
(Normally I would have pulled an aha at this point and started a separate thread on how I made the threadspotting feature, of course ;). But that’s hardly apropriate with a topic like this one, as you will understand.)
The last time I traveled to Germany on business, I wound up in a gasthaus waiting for my buddy to come from work (a German). As a sat there sipping my beer, an old fellow came in and asked, through sign language and my weak German, if he could joint me at my table. I told him it was fine, and as we sat there “talking”, he realized I was American, and I realized that he was a war veteran.
When my friend arrived to translated, we discovered that the old fellow had been in Russia, and had walked home after the war, hiding from the Russians.
The realization came, that he was just a young man then, wanting the same things that our Allied heroes wanted, a home, a wife, and a chance to be a normal citizen. But someone told him he had to go fight, and so he had to.
To me, it pointed out how war affects all of us, on both sides. Wars are made by politicians, and fought by plain old folks that would enjoy sitting down and having a beer together if they hadn’t been taught that someone was their enemy.
We should all do our best to make sure that these lessons aren’t forgotten, to avoid their repetition.
“And the band plays Waltzing Matilda
And the old men still answer the call
But year after year, their numbers are fewer
Someday no one will march there a all.”
– The Band Played Waltzing Matilda, Traditional(?) performed by The Pogues
Coldfire, excellent post. I have my own little story. In 1982 I and a friend were hiking through Europe. After five weeks, we were nearing the end of our travels. We were a little rough-looking, I’m afraid. In Belgium an elderly man came up to us with an eight-year-old girl, his grand-daughter, in tow. He greeted us and thanked “us” for helping to liberate his country in WWII. Later, I’m sure he told his grand-daughter the story of how the Allies drove out the Germans and how grateful he was. And there we were, bedraggled, tired, so little money we could barely scrape up enough for a bite to eat. I wish we could have been better more presentable.
Coldfire, you’re quite welcome. This thread was one of those “oh-man-it-has-to-at-least-get-nominated” threads. I was positively delighted when they chose it, but not because I nominated it. It’s an important topic.
Until I read your post, I was clueless about the events you described. Your moving description, and the realization that I was ignorant of these things, left me in tears.
I’m glad more people are reading this now. It’s one of the best threads ever.
Coldfire, and everyone else who has posted their stories and thoughts to this thread, thank you.
I have always felt a tremendous admiration and respect for those who marched off to fight, with no expectation of personal reward or assurance of anything other than contributing in some small way to a right cause. And I thought that in my empathy I found some kind of understanding of their experiences.
Then a couple of years ago I visited Canberra and saw the war memorial there. The thing that sticks in my mind is a room, wallpapered in photographs. It is not a cathedral, but it is a good ten to twelve feet across if memory serves; every square inch of every one of the walls is covered by the faces of dead men, men who died on a forced march over some south sea island during world war II. It was a Bataan-style movement of Australian prisoners of war by the Japanese. On one wall, there are six photos set apart. Of the hundreds of men who set out on the trail, only these six reached the other end. To stand in that room with all those portraits surrounding you and looking at you from all sides is somehow challenging (though that’s not really the right word) in a way I can’t explain. They are standard service photos - young faces, smiling often, sometimes not even looking directly at the camera, yet the feeling of the whole is that something is demanded from the living viewer in the center of it all that cannot and should not be put into simple words.
After this impression, you can’t help but fall to thinking how small a number these faces still are compared to the cold, sterile summation of lives lost that we learn in school, along with the length of the Mississippi and the charge on the electron.
I was wrong about my ability to understand the experience of those men on any but the most shallow level, but perhaps the increase in the depth of my admiration and respect can encompass what they deserve.
Wow. Reading Coldfire’s post, and all the subsequent ones, brought tears to my eyes. I’m so glad to see there are so many people who still appreciate what was sacrificed for our freedoms.
My dad is a WWII vet (B-17 pilot) who flew missions over Germany – he is 79 and still alive and well. He was stationed at Molesworth AFB in England. My great-grandad fought in the American Civil War, my grandad was in WWI, one of my uncles was also in WWII, another in Korea, a brother in Viet Nam…
I am profoundly touched by the contributions made by not only my family members going back for generations, but by all the very brave men and women who sacrified everything for freedom. Many who survived sacrificed peace of mind as well. But we must remember that their lives were NOT wasted - they were NOT thrown away. They were given for a noble and glorious cause, and thank God they were willing to step forward when it counted.
I offer my deepest gratitude to all people who have fought for the freedom of our great nations, past and present, military and civilian. Thank you so very much.
I’m not sure if this fits here, but…
My mother’s stepfather was Jewish, and raised her with a profound hatred of Germans. As a result, though I laked her hatred, the Holocaust was on the forefront of my thoughts when I went to Germany in an exchange program my junior year in high school. No one mentioned WWII explicitly. We visited my host sister’s great-grandmother, who had pictures of her sons in military uniform on the walls.
When we were in Hannover, we were looking at models of the city, both before WWII, and after Hannover was bombed. My friend Nikki, an American, and I were standing with Daniel, a German. Nikki shook her head and said “What a shame.” “No!” Daniel said with passion. “No, it is NOT a shame. They deserved it. It was a stupid, embarrasing war, and they deserved to be beaten.” I was shocked. As an American, national pride is drilled into you as an infant. “How does that feel?” I asked gently. “How does it feel to have that as your history?” Daniel turned to me, and was close to tears when he said "I can never be proud of being a German because of what those monsters did. My grandmother thinks of the time before the war as the greatest time in her life, everyone was working, everyone had a car, there was money everywhere. And I think of it as the darkest time in German history. And I have to live with the stigma of being a German for the rest of my life, because of the actions of people before my parents were born. " I was in shock. I’m not saying Daniel’s attitudes about his country are correct, or his guilt is typical. But it had never occured to me what the younger generations of Germans felt like. It was a profound moment.
While it is very true that many Germans still feel ashamed for their country’s actions in WWII, I’m not sure if those were the words Daniel used, SR. Germany was in a deep economical crisis in the 1930’s (as was the rest of Europe and North America), and it is mainly because of that situation that Hitler’s scapegoat tactics caught on with the disgruntled masses. Not everybody had work, let alone a car, and money was scarce in pre-WWII Germany.
Your post fits in quite well, BTW. I, for one, always point out to remorseful Germans (especially age 60 and younger) that there is absolutely nothing they need to be ashamed about. Their generation rebuilt a country from scratch, and did a hell of a job too without any help from the outside. Thanks to the post-war generations, Germany is once more one of the most succesful and democratic countries in the world. Plus, and this is surprising to a lot of people: Germans are probably the most polite and courtageous inhabitants of Europe.
Of course none of that is going to help when we beat their asses in next month’s Euro 2000 Finals 
(Yes, there is stil animosity between the Netherlands and Germany. But these days, I’m proud to say it’s more because of football then because of the war.)
I also wish I’d proofread after editing a sentence!
“I wish we could have been more presentable.”
Lest we forget.
(Coldfire - Don’t worry about that message from “Cecil”. I’m sure that was just some lunkhead intern at the Chicago Reader who pulled the mythical “Cecil’s” SDMB password out of the trash.)
Well, I go into the MPSIMS forum because I want to read a bunch of stuff about nothing to pass the time and I get hit with a thread that’s had me sitting aroung contemplating for the last 30 minutes (and probably much longer still). Who knew?
Coldfire, and everyone else who posted, I think this is one of the most touching things I’ve read in a long while.
Thank you everyone for increasing my awareness of a horrific time in history, and the bravery with which our fellow human beings were able to overcome this extreme evil, thus allowing me to take a walk in this or that direction should I decide to do so, to lie around and write satirical songs about the problems with todays government, to embrace my Jewish upbringing and have passover dinner every year with my loved ones, to listen to the great music of Benny Goodman and other Jewish artists/musicians, and to generally live as I choose.
A final and most deeply felt thank you to all veterans of WWII as well as all other wars, living or dead. I really don’t think I would put my life on the line for freedom. I would run. People who do this are special human beings, and this thread has instilled a feeling of awe in me at just how amazing human beings can be.
Coldfire,
I have a special place for Dutch in my heart. I was in the service (Canadian Armed Forces) for 9 years, and managed to complete two Peacekeeping tours as well.
In 1989 I was visiting Arnheim and the area surrounding it. During my visit, I ended up in a pub. As I started talking with the locals, it came up that I was in the Canadian army. When I went to order my next beer, the bartender just smiled and told me that my money was not accepted anymore. I must have had a perplexed look on my face, and seeing it, he started to explain. He said: “You are a liberator, I have your father to thank for the freedom I have. This may be my only chance to show my gratitude in some insignificant way.”. Right through the night I always had a fresh beer in front of me, and no idea who bought it for me. I also met very many elder gentlemen, who were around duning the World War II. The stories told were many that night. It was very spectacular to feel all that gratitude and respect, so once again…Thank you
Excellent post Coldfire. Very touching and heart-warming. Thank you.
I feel the need to step in and point out that those in uniform were not the only ones who worked to free the world.
Every free man and woman owes a debt of gratitude to almost all of the men and women of that “greatest” generation. Farmers and Teachers and Factory workers all worked extra hours and dealt with rationing of hundreds of items to equip feed and supply the machine of anti-Fascism. Although it may not be fashionable, I believe that every American needs to remember the terrible privation that the British and especially the Soviet people suffered to ensure Allied victory.
to any and all Russians, Ukranians, Yugoslavs and Brits on this board.
Thank you
My contrubition to this thread is short, for I dont have very much information.
My grandfather served in Eruope in World War II. The only thing that myself or my family has left from him is a Russian pistol that he brought back after the war. From what I know there was a falling out within my mother’s family, and I never got to meet my grandfather. I am an avid military historain myself, and greatly enjoy reading anything I can get my hands on from the American Civil War forward. I would have love to have spoken with him, ask the experiences that he had. My Step Grandfather also served in World War II. He passed away while I was too young to understand what he had experienced. I now understand that he was a C-47 Pilot – he flew the Hump to bring supplies to South Asia. All I have remaining from him is a watch that he recieved upon the end of the war. I treasure both of these items my family has managed to save over the years. I only wish I could hear their stories and express my thanks to them for their actions and sacriface
I wish I’d been more interested when they were around. My Grand Dad on one side died before I was born; he was old enough to fight in WWI, gassed at Ardun and all that. The other couldn’t go to WWII: he was the only pharmacist for 30 miles, and was considered essental. One Great Uncle flew reconassance missions in the European theater in WWII. All I know is he came back with a drinking problem that killed him 35 years later.
Makes me wish I’d known more. Why is the big question.
What did Uncle Fred see that made him drink? Questions and no answers.
It always comes as a shock to me when people remind me about war heros. Growing up in the U.S. after the Vietnam War it was like we got subliminal messages that wars are so bad there can’t be heros. And the brainwashing worked I guess cause when I think about war I never seem to think about the heros that did exist, and that people could feel patriotic about going off to war. I guess it also didn’t help that none of my family ever went off to war.(not that they didn’t try, My family has a truly impresive collection of papers of rejection for everything from being blind in one eye, to flat-feet.) So I never really got to hear any stories 1st hand.
Anyway thanks for reminding me about something that I should think about much more often. And for reminding me how truly directionless my own life is 
Thanks, Coldfire, for starting the thread and offering such a moving tribute. Thank you for the other posters who shared memories and thoughts. I haven’t stopped crying quite yet.
Perhaps, when newbies join the SDMB, they should be required to read this thread. It helps to put into perspective what’s really important in life. We all need that, once in a while.