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My daughter has been studying WWII in school, so we decided to watch 'Saving Private Ryan' last night. I remember watching WWII movies with my dad when I was young, but nothing like this.

It is hard to believe that this happened 61 years ago. These are the types of things that we should never forget. Very moving and I believe very educational for her, as well as, me to see.
 
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GoBucks89 said:
This would be a good time to read Ambrose's D-Day: June 6, 1944. I highly recommend it to anyone interested in the subject.


Me too... but it would also be a good time... because time is running short to thank any WWII vets that you know for their service....

Obviously, as today is the 61st anniversary of the invasion of Normandy the men and women who fought WWII are aging and passing on every day. My relatives who fought in that war are almost gone now, and unfortunately, other than a 40 page manuscript assembled primarily by my Aunt and edited some by me from various experiences of my maternal grandfather, their stories are all but gone as well. Clearly it can be a touchy subject- my grandfathers recorded recollection includes nearly no combat accounts-- and I don't thinkn thats all uncommon for all veterans, but each of their stories is an important part of history and if they are willing to share, is something that not only can enrich your own understanding of this particular group of historical events, but you'd also be surprised about how many people would be interested (not always, but often) in these oral or written histories.

Also, interest in specific historical events kind of ebbs and flow, but keep also in mind that the participants in all wars or any major event won't live forever, so lets not forget teh Korea Vets and the Vietnam vets or the gulf vets or those who experienced the Cuban missile Crisis or the fall of the Berlin Wall or 9-11... well I think you get the point of this little side rant... because they may included yourself a well as people you know.
 
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AKAKBUCK said:
Me too... but it would also be a good time... because time is running short to thank any WWII vets that you know for their service....
My father-in-law fought in WWII and he is slowly slipping away with Alzheimers. I have been lucky to hear some of his stories about the war. It took him a long time, probably 50 years, to share these stories with his children.

He felt extremely guilty for losing his buddy losing his leg from a mine. They had been given R&R from the front one day and he took off with some others. In the short time that he had been gone, his troop was recalled and his buddy hadn't left yet. His buddy went back to the front without him and eventually stepped on a mine. My father-in-law has never been able to find him since then.
 
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My grandfather flew planes during WW2, but he has never told anyone about what he did. He has a ton of medals so my dad thinks it was something important. He wrote his memoirs, but no one is allowed to read them until he dies.
 
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My wife's grandfather was a medic in the first wave off the boats and onto Utah Beach. Miraculously, he made it through that and the entire rest of the European theater without getting wounded. I never had the pleasure of meeting him because he died before I met my wife, but I always think about him and the rest of them today especially. When I think about the things he must have seen and done as a medic, I get dark chills, but I also have a supreme admiration for the things he and the rest were able to do and the trials they were able to endure. It's frustratingly difficult in this day and age to get some people to recognize the importance and significance of their sacrifices.


Everyone should get to the D-Day museum in New Orleans...the Higgins boat and seeing the hedgerow alone were worth the price of admission. We get back every time we are in ther Big Easy.
 
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My dad wasn't in the D-day landing, but he was among the troops that pushed from France and Belgium into Germany later in 1944. Here's part of his story, from the few times that I've been able to get him to talk about it over the years.

He was a grunt PFC in an infantry outfit called the Ozarks. They got into Germany in August of 1944. During the advance they were approaching a very small town. He was on point that day, and was crawling on his belly toward the town to scout the German positions. Suddenly a shell exploded a few feet away from him. His next conscious memory is of being in a seated position on the ground; his body was jolted upright by the explosion. He laid back down and tried to start digging a small trench to protect himself, since he was seriously wounded and alone in front of the rest of his platoon. Another soldier crawled up and dragged him back to safety (obviously they were friends for life!). He was taken to a hospital where they treated the deep wounds on his shoulder and his neck. He still has a scar about an inch wide and 5 inches across on the back of his neck; the shell fragment had to have come within an inch of killing him. He considers himself lucky and doesn't think he did anything special, which is typical of those that served in that war. We know there are a million other stories that didn't end as well.

While on that trip I made to France to see Normandy, I also went into Germany to see the small town where my Dad was that day. I wanted my kids to see where that had happened, and of course I was also curious. We hadn't told my Dad we were going there, so he was surprised to see the town name when we were showing him the pictures of the trip. It was a way for me to say thanks to him for doing his part in the war. He then told the story again for my kids to hear.

He also knows that there's only one possession of his that I've asked to receive upon his death. It looks like this:

 
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I have a buddy who fought in WWII in North Africa and in Japan as part of the UDT teams or Frogman, precursor to the SEALS.

During one of the campaigns against Japan he got separated from his unit and was discovered by three Japanese soldiers. He killed two with his pistol then fought the third hand to hand. The Japanese solider hit him in the jaw with his rifle butt shattering his jaw. As the Japanese was going through his personal items believing he was dead my friend grabbed his knife and killed the third enemy solider.

Afterwards, with no way off the island other than swimming he was pursued by the Japanese for weeks. Though he managed to evade them and live off the land (grubs, ants, anything). He was missing so long they told his parents he was MIA and most likely dead.

He's a Grand Old Man and I'll miss him dearly when he goes.
On a side note they Diagnosed him with Liver Cancer and gave him 6 months to live. That was almost 9 years ago.

When they made him, he broke the mold.
 
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D-Day: 6 June 1944

I took the photo below this April. It is a very famous beach. Greenies to the first person that can name the beach:
 

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