Quote:
Originally Posted by whell
I always think of my dad this time of year, more often than I usually do. He was just a 19 year old kid when he saw his first firefight, and took incoming enemy fire, in the Pacific during WWII in the Navy. I'm sure he was scared shitless, but he hung in there because he knew it was the right thing to do.
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Quote:
Originally Posted by bobabode
Mine, too. He was in the 10th Armored, 3rd Army. (Gen. Patton commanding  ) |
My Dad never saw direct combat, but he did get to go to Pearl just after the attack and spend months helping clean up the gory mess. I personally witnessed a couple of the nightmares that haunted him right up to his final days. He sat up in his hospital bed and yelled at me; "No kidding! I can see they're all dead! They're bloated up and stinking too! Now get your ass down here and give us a hand!"
I had an uncle who survived the Kamikaze attacks on the USS Bunker Hill. He said he was "..taking a whiz when the first one hit." He ran to his Battle Station so quick he forgot to "...stow it. I got all the way there and realized it was flappin' in the breeze." Ya had to hear him tell the story. He made it sound funny, but there was an expression on his face that gave us a chill.
My brother does not like to talk about Vietnam. We don't ask.
Dave