Internet Anthropologist Think Tank: Vetrans Day, DAD

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    Monday, November 08, 2010

    Vetrans Day, DAD

    Veterans Day, My Dad.
    In Memory:

    Father was a paratrooper, grenadier WWII. 
    On D-day his company was dropped behind enemy lines.

    He had told me about finding gliders undamaged, full
    of men all dead, and not a mark on them.
    He was certain it was a poison gas, and caused
    close to instantaneousness death. As most were
    still strapped in the Gliders.

    The US and Germans both denied using gas 

    He jumped both in Italy and France.

    He had a scar right between his eyes.
    Occasional a very small piece of shrapnel would
    work its way out of his eye orbit years
    after the war?
    At the time I was maybe six, thought it was 
    disgusting, told him to throw it away.

    The Germans had painted some flat
    rocks to look like water, and had them
    zeroed in.

    When the platoon went to get water
    all were killed but three.
    Dad said he could hear some men
    moaning and the Germans would 
    shoot them, he had a minor wound 
    between the eyes, shrapnel, but
    a lot of blood, so he just played dead,
    as the German patrol swept over them.
    Two other guys did the same.

    He was incorrectly reported as 
    Killed in action, his mother and 
    father were heart broken, but
    a week later he sent them a post
    card telling them he was alive.
    It must have been a great celebration.

    Dad was back in action in short order.

    In Italy the killing had gotten to him,
    He would go out on lone patrols,
    and come back and report how many
    Germans he had shot.

    His Co. was skeptical and said they
    hadn't see any Germans in days.
    So how could he be killing Germans?
    Dads reply " I didn't say they were
    live, I just said I shot Germans."

    He had been shooting dead Germans.
    As stress relief, he got a brief furlough.
    Mental adjustment.

    Now days they probably would have had
    him up on charges.

    Dad was always modest and quiet,
    and sometimes bull headed,
    seldom talked about the War,
    Once in a While when we were out
    fishing on the lake alone.
    He didn't like me to ask questions,
    I just listened, and remembered.

    He was a great shot, on the run
    after deer or standing still, and
    an excellent tracker.
    Very sharp eyes.
    That shrapnel was a God send.
    Kept his vision and saved his life,
    wish I'd kept it.


    For all the Troops Past, Present and Future.


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