A brief story about my Grandpa told by my Dad. Picture of Grandpa below.

If anyone else has a story about family WW2, please share.

Today is the 77th anniversary of the D-Day invasion of Allied Troops on the Normandy coast of France on June 6, 1944. My dad landed at Omaha Beach around June 15, as part of Battery A, 531st Anti-Aircraft Artillery Automatic Weapons Battalion (unit name read Battery A, 531st AAA (AW) Bn) and was attached to the 30th Infantry Division when they arrived in England on February 23rd 1944. From landing on Omaha Beach on June 15 they joined the 30th Inf Div on June 16 near Isigny, France, crossed the Vire River/Canal in one of the toughest river crossings the Infantry had during the European campaign, and went on fighting in the hedgerows through Northern France, Belgium, and the Netherlands. On Dec 18 they moved into the Malmedy and Stavelot area and fought the Battle of the Ardennes Forest (Battle of the Bulge) and fought through Central Germany ending up in Forschheim just north of Nuremburg in early July 1945.



Dad had a purple heart and I remember mom picking shrapnel out of his back when I was young even into the early 1960's. He also was awarded a bronze star with V cluster along with several other medals recognizing the theater of operations and significant battles he participated in. I have more detailed information that I received from the 30th ID museum concerning the exact history throughout Europe that I need to go through and develop a synopsis of. Dad went to a special school in Chicago to polish his German speaking skills and was a primary liaison with military intelligence including dressing in German infantry uniforms and pretending to be a POW to get information on troop movements, etc. from German POW's.

My Grampa was in the 636th Tank Destroyer Battalion primarily attached to the 36th Division T patchers. He went ashore first in Africa and chased Rommel all over. Then they pulled them out and he saw time in Italy, France, and Austria before ending up at Eagle's Nest a few days after it was taken. He is still my hero, and we lost him about 3 years ago, at 99yo.

He had a funny story of them capturing a sleeping German paratrooper who landed on the US side of the line in France, when they were on their way to HQ battalion to figure out why a radio line wasn't working. They stopped at a farmhouse and asked about a place to rest. The farmer was acting nervous, so they kind of pushed their way in. They see some german paratroop boots sticking out from a blanket, and heard snoring. Since they were behind lines and heading to headquarters, no one had much for weapons with them at that point, which seems odd to me?? So they roust the german up with the blanket over his head still, and my Tech-Sergeant Grampa stuck the needle-nose pliers in the guys back and told him loudly to get moving. The German raised his hands up hollering, "Nicht Sheissen....Nicht Sheissen", and they frog-marched him with a man on either side holding his arms about 5 miles back to the nearest MPs. Grampa used to grin and shake his head when he told this one. I asked him what he would have done if the German had ever turned back to look. He said they didn't really think it through that far, but there was 5 of them and only 1 german, so the good guys would have prevailed somehow! He lied about his age to get in early, and was in the Allied theater for 5 years straight before finally returning home to Texas.

My grandfather on my dad's side served in the 4th armored division under Patton. He didn't land at Normandy on D-Day, but 2 weeks later and talked about the sand and water were still stained red when they went ashore.

He had a bunch of stories, but my favorite one is when they had to help clear a small town out. He had dismounted from the tank and working with infantry, when all of a sudden on the side of a church he runs into a German. The guy tries to shoot him with his Luger but it jams and so he throws it at my grandfather in desperation. My grandfather being the guy he is, figures it's his lucky gun now and ships it home, and we still have it to this day.

When I was little and didn't know any better, I asked my grandfather what happened to that German after he threw the pistol.... never got an answer, grandpa just sat there real quiet, so I don't think that German spent much more time on this planet....

My dad entered the service late in the war and was training for the invasion of Japan (Naval Air Corps) when we dropped the bomb, so he never saw action.

However, two other family members. My wife's grandfather was a line worker for SW Bell. He and a group of other linemen were dropped into German occupied France with a pistol and spools of wire and strung communication lines for the French resistance to relay messages out of France to the Allies. He spent 6 months working all the while staying hidden from the Germans.

Ever cooler story. My sister-in-law's dad fought at the Battle of the Bulge and was shot in the hip and shattered his pelvic. He was laying face up in the middle of the battlefield when the Germans overran his position. He was basically left for dead. A German soldier ran up to him with his bayonet drawn and looked around and stuck the bayonet in the mud next to him and them flipped him over on his back and went on his way. The young American soldier survived that day and was taken to a hospital for surgery and recover, where he met a young nurse and they were married for 65 years.

My Grandfather was a farmer and tractor repairman
from Talpa,Tx and then Ballinger, Tx.

He was drafted in 1942 and was in the Amy Air Corp and stationed at Randolph Field and a plane mechanic from 1942 to 1945. Repaired Cylinder engines for the planes. He was also stationed at San Angelo Army Air field to clear land for the base in 1942.

He may have not fought overseas but there were many men and women in the military that were stateside to keep the was effort moving.

I could read these stories for hours...thank y'all for sharing!

My grandfather landed as a PFC with B-company, 29th ID and carried a Bangalore ashore as one of the first to hit the beach at Omaha. His platoon was the first mostly intact platoon to make it off Omaha Beach. He made it as far as St. Lo where a bad shrapnel wound sent him back to England to recover and he never went back in.

" I tripped getting out of the landing craft and my helmet fell off and I started to leave it floating but I looked down and there was a picture of my mother and father, my sister and my rosary. I held up three other guys and it kept us out of machine gun fire. There was a tank and I ran up behind it. I looked over and saw our company cook. I recognized his silhouette and he just disappeared. we said 88s but they had mortars too. " - Part of his telling of the landing in a video interview for a local news station on the 40th anniversary.

I've got a decent number of stories, video interviews, his scrapbook, etc. and will get around to posting it all one day. My dad has the iron cross that a German he captured gave him for some cigarettes. I'll try to get some pictures of some things later today.

Edit for Pictures - New York before shipping out, England before the invasion, What he called "war money" with his platoon signatures and status.

My Father-in-law was a navigator on a B-24 flying out of Italy most of the war. Most of his missions were bombing the German oil refineries in Romania and North Africa. His plane was part of operation Tidal Wave. On one mission, they were shot up real bad and weren't sure they were going to make it back. They were preparing to ditch in the Med. Several of the crew members were injured and all of his navigation equipment was shot to hell. They managed to get back to their base on sheer dead-reckoning, having flown the route so many times. He was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross for his heroic efforts on that mission. All crew members survived. His plane was called the "Fertile Turtle". The oldest member of the crew was the pilot. He was 22 years old.

When he started at A&M, he was told he would not get drafted until he graduated. He was called up his sophomore year. He was class of '42. He actually had his Aggie Ring mailed to him while still fighting in Italy. He flew 50 missions, was promoted and moved to a logistics post for the rest of the war. He decided to stay in and saw some time in the Korean War as well.

He did not like to talk about his war experiences. He lost a lot of friends to the war. A friend of mine once asked him if he was ever scared during the war. He said that he was scared every time he set foot on the Turtle until he stepped back off again. He said that anyone who tells you any different is a liar. He told him that one of the common sayings back then if you were asked if you were scared was " I was was so scared you couldn't drive a straight pin up my a** with a sledgehammer".

They are the greatest generation

My FIL and the crew of the Fertile Turtle. He is the one on the left squatted

My grandpa was on leave in London and was walking down the street when a group of British soldiers poured out of a pub. They bumped into him and started beating my grandpa mercilessly. Fighting for his life, he stabbed one of the soldiers. Luckily a group of US MP's saw the scuffle and quickly extracted grandpa from the scene. The next day he found himself in the 2nd Wave on Omaha Beach.

There's not enough damn blue stars in the world for this thread!

I know 2 of my direct ancestry that that took part in war.

First was a Mechanic on the USS Otter, a patrol boat that escorted troop carriers across the Atlantic and also did some sub hunting. Only real story that i know of is that they sunk the last German Uboat that didn't surrender after VE day and he got in trouble for using his Mechanic's shore pass to scalp hot dogs from a particularly good stand at their home berth. He also mentioned ramming the Queen Mary accidentally, but he was up in age when he said that and I haven't found any anecdotes about it elsewhere.

The second was part of the 28th ID, the Bloody Buckets. From what I've heard they saw heavy fighting in France and Belgium. They were in the Liberation of Paris and were the first units to touch German soil. After taking some heavy losses they were stationed in Luxembourg in the fall 1944 for light relief duty guarding the Our River. But then in turn they were caught up in the initial attack as part of the Ardennes Offensive(Battle of the Bulge). The depleted unit was quickly overrun and my grandad and one survivor had to make the decision whether to surrender to the Germans or try to make it back to friendly lines and couldn't agree what to do so they split. What gets crazy is I've never heard the rest of the story but he was declared MIA then, but turned up in a US military hospital in deep Germany near VE day. 2 purple hearts and a bronze star(still waiting on the Silver Star), I really wish I knew the rest of the story...

My Grandmother had funny story about the officer coming to their home when they found him and he was still MIA, and got incredulous why she was breaking down and sobbing by his presence. Like anyone rational she assumed he was declared KIA hence the officer's visitation. But he was confused because he was delivering the happy news that he was alive and couldn't figure out why my Grandmother was distraught.

ghollow said:

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They are the greatest generation

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Yes, yes they certainly were. And I get a little misty-eyed just reading these stories thinking about what those brave men endured and the sacrifices made.

My grandfathers would never talk about the war. I know one of them served in the Pacific Theatre and was stationed in the Philippines. He only ever talked about carrying a BAR and having to clear the tunnels built by the Japs. He was a devout Christian man but would readily admit well into his 80s that he did not like Japanese people (and that's putting it mildly). I believe my other grandfather was a medic based on a tattoo he had, but he never spoke a word about the war.

I wish I knew more about his story, he passed when I was very young and my Dad doesn't talk about him much, but my grandfather was a Marine in the Pacific.

I can't remember which island he was on, but the story my dad has always told me is my grandfather knows he had at least one kill while he was deployed. The way my dad tells it - One night, my grandfather was hunkered down in a foxhole, minding his own, when a Japanese soldier stumbled into his foxhole. After a momentary "oh $&*#" staredown, my grandfather got to his rifle first and pulled the trigger.

I wish I knew more about his time in the Pacific, I'm sure he had a lot of stories to tell.

CanyonAg77 said:

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No problem. Radials, probably?

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To be honest I don't know exactly. My grandfather passed away when I was in 6th grade in 1986. My Dad class of 66 passed away 10 years ago and my Mom just went into Memory Care. We are digging thru all the family stuff and came across my Grandfather's war papers.

Heard this on a podcast once. Not D-day per se, but can really feel the conflict in this veterans voice still today. Enjoying these posts.



I

Sorry, just being an airplane nerd. I'm fairly sure that the P-38 and the P-51 fighters were the only American planes using air-cooled, V-type engines, like the RR Merlin and Allison V-12s.

B-17, B-24, B-25, B-26, P-47, C-47, etc. etc. used air cooled radials. When you said "cylinder engines", that's only thing that made sense, since, they are sometimes called radial cylinder engines. And when you are working on them, the cylinders are not cast into a block like modern car engines, they are bolted to a central structure, think the twin cylinders on a Harley. You can unbolt and remove a single cylinder at a time.

Example:



Again, sorry to derail so much, I've been a buff of this stuff since I was a little kid, six decades ago, and I can go aviation nerd on the least little thing.

If you knew a different term or type of engine, I was eager to chase it down.

Grandfather didn't talk much about his time during WW2 but the one story I got most of was as follows...

He was a carpet bomber pilot and had just returned from a run and it was a good flight with mission success. When he got back to the airbase, a journalist approached him with a CO and he was asked to take the journalist back up in the air in order to take pictures to "send back home." He eventually agreed and took the photographer up in the air and dipped low for him to get good pictures. Everything was good and they returned to base. He asked the photographer if he could maybe get a few pictures after he developed them and the photographer then told him "No, I had my lens cap on the whole flight because I was so excited to be able to take the pictures and forgot to take it off." Dude then had the audacity to ask him to take him back out again for another run, my grandfather proceeded to kick his ass on the tarmac. No repercussions for the azz whooping and got a medal for the second mission.

Dad was 16 and a half when the war ended. Thanks to your relatives, and the Atom Bomb, I'm here to post nonsense.

One uncle flew as flight engineer/top turret gunner on B-24s in the Pacific. He got one decoration (Air Medal?) for shooting down a Jap fighter, he said he wasn't sure he got it, but he didn't get credit for at least one he did get. Funny thing to me, he claimed that the Japanese fighters would not come after them until after they dropped their bombs.

He also claimed one guy bailed out of a faltering plane soon after takeoff, chute did not open, he bounced around on the top layer of the triple canopy jungle, then climbed down and hiked back to base. Another couple of guys were leaning out the window looking at the jungle below, and one said to the other, "sure would be bad if we had to bail out here". The other only heard "bail out", and did. I don't know if either story were true, or a version of urban legend.

He was also on one of three planes that made it back to base after a long-range mission. He claimed that the generals knew it was beyond their range, but sent them anyway.

Another uncle was an infantryman sent in some months after D-Day. About the only story I heard from him was that he got separated from his unit, and had to spend the night in a German farmer's house. No communication, he just sat awake all night on one side of the cellar, holding his rifle, while the family sat on the other side.

A third uncle trained as a radioman in Navy fighter-bombers, but severely burned his hands in some sort of electrical accident. I think he spent the rest of the war an an instructor.

This is about WW1 so a little off topic. My grandfather's family was from Germany and he spoke German much of the time. He was in school in Germany when WW1 broke out. His family was able to get out and back to the US. He joined the army and returned. Since he spoke fluent German, he was recruited as a spy. According to the story he told me, he was shot in the back jumping on a train to escape getting caught and that he still had fragments in his back. My Mother said she had never heard that story so its possible he was just making up that last part. I still have some of his war documents and ID cards.
He died of an aneurysm following nasal surgery when I was 10, so never got the chance to hear more.

Quote:

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Dad was 16 and a half when the war ended. Thanks to your relatives, and the Atom Bomb, I'm here to post nonsense.

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When I was a kid, there was an editorial in the Beaumont Enterprise on the anniversary of the first atomic bombing. The editorial basically was demonizing the use of it and the death and torment that it caused for the citizens of Japan.

My dad wrote a scathing rebuke, that was also published in the news paper detailing his personal story about how he was training for the invasion of Japan and the death and utter destruction of Japan that would have occurred if the Allies had to invade.

He closed with a picture of his 7 kids and wife, all that would might not have existed if Truman had not decided to use the atomic bomb.

The author of the editorial wrote my dad a nice letter, not admitting that he was wrong but acknowledging my dad's points.

CanyonAg77 said:

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Sorry, just being an airplane nerd. I'm fairly sure that the P-38 and the P-51 fighters were the only American planes using air-cooled, V-type engines, like the RR Merlin and Allison V-12s.


B-17, B-24, B-25, B-26, P-47, C-47, etc. etc. used air cooled radials. When you said "cylinder engines", that's only thing that made sense, since, they are sometimes called radial cylinder engines. And when you are working on them, the cylinders are not cast into a block like modern car engines, they are bolted to a central structure, think the twin cylinders on a Harley. You can unbolt and remove a single cylinder at a time.

Example:



Again, sorry to derail so much, I've been a buff of this stuff since I was a little kid, six decades ago, and I can go aviation nerd on the least little thing.

If you knew a different term or type of engine, I was eager to chase it down.

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No problem. It is neat to read what you wrote. My grandfather didn't really say anything about his service. After the war he bought a bulldozer and dug out stock tanks and cleared mesquite till he died. Also repaired engines.

Always had grease on his hands and Lava Soap by the sink. I can still smell the grease to this day.

When he passed he had a military funeral and I have the flag from the ceremony.

In his obituary my Dad wrote that my Grandfather fought the "Battle of the Conchos"

My favorite uncle (who helped raise me) was on the USS New Orleans (heavy cruiser) at Battle of Tassafaronga off Guadalcanal. It was a night action against the Imperial Japanese Navy and the ship took a long-lance torpedo at the front turret, blew it clean off. There is a picture of the ship if you google. Initially the ship was sinking fast until bow disconnected. My uncle would never talk about it or what he saw. He was in the boiler room with the ship going down and he said, and I remember, that he had never seen "so many gd atheists praying for God's Mercy".

My Great-Uncle Lt. Col. J.C. Coats. I was very young when I spoke to him, so I'm sure he kept the stories on the lighter side but here's one that vividly sticks out. Uncle J.C. was a pilot with the 486th Bombardment Group and flew both the B-24 and B-17.

They had taken off and were somewhere over Europe when one of his crewmen started feeling a bad case of the bubble guts. In a mad rush, and without thinking things through, the crewman flung open a hatch to relieve himself. Physics happened, and his dinner/lunch ended up painting the top of the fuselage.

I also remember my grandmother, his sister, telling me that by the end of his time in WWII he had belly landed two planes.

Uncle JC went on to fly in Korea and finally the B-52 in Vietnam and the B-47. Not World War II related, but he belly landed a B-52 as well after having an issue with his landing gear upon takeoff. Had I known him in my older age I would've had so many more questions for him.

Not a family member, but a good friend of my step-grandfather
who I had the honor to speak with around the same time (as a kid) was Medal of Honor recipient, Sgt. James M. Logan.

Mr. Logan in Salerno, Italy charged a machine gun position located along a rock wall that sprayed the ground so close to him he was hit with dirt and rock splinters from the bullets. He killed three Germans as they came through the wall and then attacked the machine gun. He ran across 200 yards of exposed terrain, and once at the wall, he crawled along its base. He jumped up and shot the two gunners and seized the machine gun. He then swung the gun around and opened fire on the enemy as they fled. He then destroyed the machine gun and captured an enemy officer and another soldier who were trying to sneak away. Later that morning, Mr. Logan went after a sniper that was hidden in a house 150 yards away from his company. He shot the lock off the door, kicked it in and shot the sniper in the stairwell.

Again, I wish I had the opportunity to speak with Mr. Logan as an adult. As a kid I had no idea who I was speaking with in my grandmother's living room.

water turkey said:

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Quote:

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Dad was 16 and a half when the war ended. Thanks to your relatives, and the Atom Bomb, I'm here to post nonsense.

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When I was a kid, there was an editorial in the Beaumont Enterprise on the anniversary of the first atomic bombing. The editorial basically was demonizing the use of it and the death and torment that it caused for the citizens of Japan.

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I see some folks claim that the nuclear bomb was not needed, we controlled the seas and the skies, and we could just blockade the home islands and starve them out.

I've never understood how starving a nation of 72,000,000 men, women, and children was seen as more humane than bombing two cities and killing 100,000, about 0.14 percent of the population, instantly.

rsincs said:

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This is about WW1 so a little off topic. My grandfather's family was from Germany and he spoke German much of the time. He was in school in Germany when WW1 broke out. His family was able to get out and back to the US. He joined the army and returned. Since he spoke fluent German, he was recruited as a spy. According to the story he told me, he was shot in the back jumping on a train to escape getting caught and that he still had fragments in his back. My Mother said she had never heard that story so its possible he was just making up that last part. I still have some of his war documents and ID cards.
He died of an aneurysm following nasal surgery when I was 10, so never got the chance to hear more.

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Could also be that it was entirely true and there are things that you just don't tell your wife. Especially that generation.

I don't have any cool heroic stories and this is not D-Day related but my granddad was a Captain in the army but with the OSS over in Burma during WWII. At some point he jumped behind enemy lines somewhere. He also did a bunch of stuff during the Korean War. My grandmother would say he would get calls in the middle of the night at times and have to get dressed and rush out of the house saying a refrigerator needs to be repaired. Why a Captain, then an major would need to rush out of the house in the middle of the night to repair a fridge is beyond me. No one figured out what he truly was being called to do and he never would tell anyone. He was a hardass son of a gun though.

For those that don't know the OSS was the "first" CIA. That's what I've been told at least.

Dude knew his military too. Even on his death bed with severe dementia he knew what kind of ship and the hull number of it I got stationed to just by the name of it.

I wish I had asked my grandfather more about the war. I have a few war items from him - a pic of him on a motorcycle in France, a letter talking about the concentration camps, and I understand he was at was Normandy after D-Day and ended up in Paris for a while. I always wondered if he had a girl back there.

Growing up I remember the goofy son of a gun thought it was hilarious to speak French to the waitresses at Mexican restaurants. They'd look at him funny and he's just rolling with this big booming laugh.

I've been reading his copy of the autobiography of General Omar Bradley. He went through and marked on the maps where he had been, underlined comments throughout the book and made notations in the margin in a lot of places. It's been fun reading the general's story and then seeing my grandfather's both war time and historical perspective on it all.

Thanks to everyone showing stories.

Also had a Great Uncle in the war. He was a pilot and my Grandmother's oldest brother. He was tall and skinny as a rail. He was flying a mission over Germany one day and got shot down behind german lines in a blizzard (he was on his way back to base at this point). He hid in the day and walked a few nights through the snow to get back to the US side of the line and then got a ride to his airbase. When he got there, he had such severe frostbite that he lost two toes. They bandaged him up, he slept a night, and after a warm breakfast and new boots, they gave him another plane and sent him out on another mission behind enemy lines. He smiled really big when he talked about that next safe landing.

He flew his whole life after he got back. I would imagine it was so much better with no one shooting at you.

My grandfather was an extremely accomplished shotgunner. He was not a big guy so he was put in B24s and and in a few other planes and on a machine gun and also in turrets. He was like many others and did not like to talk about the horrific things you did to stay alive and protect yourself and buddies. He did say the scariest thing he did was get put in a turret. In the pic there is a huge piece of metal below his picture, that is just one of the pieces and the final that grounded him. But the cool part of the story is they moved him down to Lockhart Texas where there were more experienced guys who knew shotguns and they found a place that he could train gunners from the back of a pickup truck. Many came from down south but if you showed talent you were shipped to Lockhart. I am extremely proud of my grandfather, he was a kind soul and I know he struggled with it. Thank you for this thread, I like telling his story!

Thanks for sharing the stories. Great stories and many sacrifies that we cann't imagine