Grandfathers in the war

[Happy Times]

Originally Posted by Kipparikalle

My grandfather is the last original member of his platoon, alive.
He lost all his friends, every one of them.

During the massive tank-battle of 'Tali-Ihantala' He had to be motorcycle messenger.
During that time he accidentally drived over the lines to the russian side, he drived past big russian tank, truck and soldier-convoys.

He managed to get back, russians didn't notice that he was a finn.
He just drived back, waved a hand to the quards on the road. And he was back on own side.

My paternal grandad was also in Tali-Ihantala, almost got captured but they managed to fight away. He got awaded for bravery once. He doesnt mind telling stories about war, hasnt got any big traumas out of it.
He was an sergeant in the infantry, from 1941-1944.
He was too young for Winter War in 1939-40, so he was a guard in an POW camp.

The movie is coming out on Independence Day btw.



http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Tali-Ihantala

[seafarer]

What about the women in the family? My grandmother was a nurse on a hospital ship off Gallipoli in WWI. We gave her diary and some other items to the Canadian War Museum in Ottawa. She treated mostly Aussie wounded, and she passed her diary around the wards for anyone who wished to write or draw something. They filled it with poems, notes, stories and sketches.

[Dmitry Markov]

Well my grandfathers were too young to serve the army in WWII, and on my mother side there were no warriors at all except my great-grandfather who fought in the civil war in Chapaev's division (there is a classical movie "Chapaev" - it is tought in cinema colleges - it is all about my great-grandfather's division commander) and my mother's dad with all his family (they are peasants) were captured by Germans and moved to Austria as slaves - but it happend in 1943 , untill that moment their village was right on the frontline - and there are still trenches, barbed wires and a lot of war stuff in forests and fields around. Practically every year while helping my grandmother in her garden I dig out a Mauser rifle's clips, mortar shell's tails, or something else.

My father's relatives have fought much more. My great-uncle's chest was covered with medals "За Отвагу" (for Courage) which were real soldier's medals - they were only given to real field soldiers and not to cabinet-sitters. But he never liked to talk about war. All I know is that he was a tank commander and I don't remember wich ones they were - T-60's or T-70's but as I remember - he never mentioned T-34's as being he's command.
My grandmother's dad was a marines (in Soviet and Russian army this kind of infantry is called Sea Infantry) capitain - he invented some kind of mobile stand for machine-guns so they could be used as an AA-measure. He died under Novorossisk - he was wounded during Germans attack and then moved to a blindage, shortly after that German artillery shell destroyed his blindage with everybody in it including my great-grandfather.
Another grand-uncle was an artillerist - when all of his guncrew have fallen, he being wounded, alone had served his gun - pointed, charged and fired at the tanks. After another wound he lost consciousness and was POW'ed by Germans. Somehow he survived and after the war he was moved from German camp to the Soviet one as NKVD checked everyone who was a POW. After the "check" he was finally released but untill the end of his days his health was not very strong.

My another great-grandfather trained Soviet special forces during WWII being ski-master of sports. Later he became a Honoured Coach of Soviet Union for Light Athletics and he has trained many Soviet Light Athletics masters who became world's champions.

Best Regards

[horsa]

In 1914 my grandmothers brother could best be described as an ordinary man with an ordinary life. He wasn’t a pacifist, but made it clear to his close family that, given a choice, he didn’t want to go to war. In late 1915, under pressure, he enlisted. He was eventually posted to Ypres where he probably made the best of his semi-enforced situation.

On his first tour in the front line trenches he was shot dead by a snipers bullet.

For most people this is what total war meant.

On the family gravestone, back in England there is an inscription that says, “Killed in action in France”.

It’s sad, and for me, deeply telling, that his family didn’t really understand where he was and what he was doing there. Ypres is in Belgium.

[Packerton]

My Grandfather was a Merchant Navy Sailor In the Canaidian Navy , He survived the war and told me when I was younger that his convoys (As in the convoys he served in altogether) were attacked 8 times throught he war, his cloest expirience to sinking was when the ship in front of his Cargo ship was hit by a torpedo and sunk fast as he said.

[Heibges]

My father was in the 1/172nd Infantry Regiment in the Vermont National Guard. They trained at Camp Blanding in Florida, and Camp Shelby in Mississippi. My father was a radio operator in an infantry company. They fought from Guadalcanal to the Phillipines. My dad had a Bronze Star and a Purple Heart.

My uncle was crewman on a bomber in Europe. He was shot down, and spent a couple of years in a German POW Camp. He had a lot of troubles when he returned from the War unforturnately.

[Biggles]

Hm....the closest thing I get is my grandmothers husband's brother-in-law war story from the time he was a navigator on a B-17 Flying Fortress serving in Europe flying missions over Germany. But since he isn't my grandfather, I shouldn't tell his big story from the war here....

[Jimbuna]

My father 84 and still with us) lied about his age and enlisted in the Merchant Navy in 38 during the time of the Spanish Civil War.
He was on a ship called the Euphobia (I tnink) when it was bombed in Barcelona harbour. He told me (with a chuckle) "The bombs were the size of something a little larger than a hand grenade".
At the outbreak of WWII he sailed the Atlantic mainly.
He was at Dunkirk "I was sick of taking them and bringing them back" (the army that is)
He was on the last ship to leave Marseille before it's fall "The Royal Navy scarpered the day before" taking off a French Admiral and has a letter (all tattered and torn) of thanks from him.
He was on the only convoy to sail to Murmansk without an escort (the escorts were needed for the Torch landings), receiving £50 bonus.....I think 13 ships sailed and only 4 or 5 returned.
He was one of the fortunate survivors of Convoy PQ17, he was never on a ship that was sunk, but can vividly remember the tales of merchantmen 'running down' survivors from another stricken merchantmen because the escorts would not allow any ships to stop and pick up survivors.
On D-Day his ship (Empire Galiad I think) dropped anchor half a mile offshore then ran full ahead at the beach during low tide, thus enabling them to pull themselves off at high tide (that was the theory anyway) an hour and a half after the first wave of troops went ashore. His most vivid memories are of Panzer tanks appearing over a hillock a few hundred yards inland, firing a shell then reversing out of sight again. He told me that as soon as the Panzer appeared, dozens of escort vessel and hastily erected shore guns would obliterate either the Panzer or whatever it was using for cover. Either way, if the first salvo didn't do the job, the second one always did.

My fathers pride in what he and his shipmates endured for their country is sadly tainted by the fact that it wasn't until a few years ago that his government eventually recognised their bravery by awarding them a small, cheap lapel badge.
This was only brought about after a sustained press campaign which highlighted (amongst other things) the fact that 20 years earlier, the Russian Ambassador in London visited Newcastle and awarded them specially minted medals for their endeavours on the unescorted Russian Convoy.
His worst D-Day memory was watching a direct hit on a ship (he's not sure from what) and the dozens of nurses that were onboard jumping overboard wearing lifejackets only to be straffed "Butchery" he called it.

We should all feel justly proud of what our loved ones did during this terrible period in our worlds history.

Lest We Forget.

[CptCrunch]

My great grandad commanded a battle ship in WWI , fought at Jutland and the Dardenells, and was killed in service Bombay in an accidental oxcart collision on shore leave. This was after bringing in his ship with no rudder after having been torpedoed by a biplane - he was posthumously decorated.

My Grandad on my dad's side commanded 4 WWII mine sweepers in sucession in the Irish sea , was torpedoed 4 times by U boats and survived them all, we even have a painting of one sinking.

My other Grandad was 1st mate the Mechant navy and ran the Gibraltar convoys.

My dad lied about his age and joined the merchant navy at 16, was a radio man on the Queen Mary in the Atlantic convoys, joined the RN as soon as he was old enough (still a year early) and spent most of the war on the Ark Royal. When a surface mine was spotted the ship hove to. Everyone came on deck with 303's and shot at the horns. The peron who exploded it got half a crown from the skipper!

Sometimes when I'm blasting convoys from my type IXC I think I may be in danger of preventing my own existence...

[DeepSix]

First off, there are some really great photos and stories in this thread! All of these posts are about fathers, grandfathers, and great-grandfathers with unique and fascinating stories - some spanning mulitple countries and generations.

My own (maternal) grandfather's story is not as remarkable as these, but I'll share it anyway. He graduated from VMI (an American military academy) in 1934 and was in the reserves when World War II started. An artilleryman and engineer, he was sent to Fort Sill and eventually ended up in the 285th Field Artillery Observation Battalion as Battalion S-4 (supply officer). This unit crossed the Atlantic on the Queen Mary in August, 1944. Granddad was briefly based in England during the late summer. I'm not sure where but we have a photograph of him in front of Salisbury Cathedral, so I think the unit must have been in that area. At any rate, he wasn't in England long, arriving on the continent sometime in September '44 - over the beach, I think.



The 285th was just one typical of hundreds of similar units (artillery, engineers, transport, etc.) that were not permanently attached to a division and could, theoretically, be assigned here or there as needed. It was comprised of three companies (called "batteries" since this was nominally an arty unit) - A, B, and HQ. I think my grandfather was initially assigned to B Battery, but when he became supply officer he went over to Battalion HQ. At any rate, B Battery is significant because on December 17 it was captured by Kampfgruppe Peiper (part of the 1st S.S. Panzer Division) while heading to St. Vith to join the 7th Armored Division. Peiper and his men herded their prisoners into a field and machine-gunned them. That event became known as the Malmedy Massacre. My grandfather was riding in a jeep from St. Vith to meet Battery B when it was captured; he was cut off from them by the German advance.

My grandfather never talked much about his wartime experiences. Unfortunately, I was too young for him to tell me much - other than talking about riding in a jeep with no headlights, spending Christmas Day (and several other days besides) in a forest and surrounded by Germans, etc., I don't know a lot about his day-to-day activity or those of his unit. He used to call ambulances "meat wagons," and if it snowed he would always say he was glad he wasn't in St. Vith/the Ardennes/Germany, etc. He was certainly not a melancholy man, though. He died in 1992 at the age of 81; he was a true gentleman and I still miss him everyday.

The 285th ended the war in Meiningen, Germany, from where it shipped back to the U.S.

That grandfather had a brother who went to North Africa and Italy, and I had another great uncle on my dad's side who went to North Africa and Italy, too. I know hardly anything about their experiences, unfortunately. IIRC my dad's uncle was on Patton's staff; he stayed in the Army after the war, worked for the Pentagon and lived most of the time in Italy. In the 1970s he was put on the Red Brigade's hit list.

Anyway - that's about it. Great thread, and btw why isn't it stickied yet?

[IrishUboot]

My grandfather (on my father's side) served as a training officer in the Royal Air Force at the time of the Battle of Britain. I'm not sure where he was stationed, but I'll ask my Da when he gets in. I remember him saying that he was on newsreel film at the time, obviously something I'd love to see.

Various uncles and that also served. I believe many were involved in the drops at Operation Market Garden. One of them blew his nose or ear off with a grenade, one was hit in the drop.

On a side note, it would be nice to have some contributions to the thread from those who had fathers and grandfathers serve on the German side.

Edit: Just read waste gate's post. Very interesting. Keep them coming.

[Kaleun]

hi,

Short and sweet - grandfather (Mother's side) was in logistics for the british army, he drove low-loaders for moving tanks and other armour about.

Grandfather (Father's side), god rest his soul, was a naval diver for the Royal Navy (possibly a special operations group diver, later referred to as the SBS, but he remained tight lipped about all the things he saw and did in the war).

Regards

Kaleun

[Biggles]

My grandfather didn't serve in the swedish army during the war, 'cause he was a farmer, who, 'course, was also a very important job.

However, my grandmothers husband's brother-in-law was a navigator on a B-17 during the war. He ended up in Sweden after his plane got pretty banged up over Berlin. All the instruments were gone....and at least two of his crewmembers was killed. They did an emergency landing on an airfield in Sweden. Thinking they were in Germany, they threw themselves out of the plane and lied down on the landing strip. The chief of the airfield saw this, and said reassuring over the speakers: "Relax boys, you're in Sweden." As you probably realised, they were stuck there until the end of the war, since Sweden was neutral (and no fuzz about that please! )

[sunvalleyslim]

One Grandfather was a periscope repairman at the Vallejo shipyards. The other was a Ammunition truck driver in WW1

[Packerton]

Originally Posted by jimbuna

My father 84 and still with us) lied about his age and enlisted in the Merchant Navy in 38 during the time of the Spanish Civil War.
He was on a ship called the Euphobia (I tnink) when it was bombed in Barcelona harbour. He told me (with a chuckle) "The bombs were the size of something a little larger than a hand grenade".
At the outbreak of WWII he sailed the Atlantic mainly.
He was at Dunkirk "I was sick of taking them and bringing them back" (the army that is)
He was on the last ship to leave Marseille before it's fall "The Royal Navy scarpered the day before" taking off a French Admiral and has a letter (all tattered and torn) of thanks from him.
He was on the only convoy to sail to Murmansk without an escort (the escorts were needed for the Torch landings), receiving £50 bonus.....I think 13 ships sailed and only 4 or 5 returned.
He was one of the fortunate survivors of Convoy PQ17, he was never on a ship that was sunk, but can vividly remember the tales of merchantmen 'running down' survivors from another stricken merchantmen because the escorts would not allow any ships to stop and pick up survivors.
On D-Day his ship (Empire Galiad I think) dropped anchor half a mile offshore then ran full ahead at the beach during low tide, thus enabling them to pull themselves off at high tide (that was the theory anyway) an hour and a half after the first wave of troops went ashore. His most vivid memories are of Panzer tanks appearing over a hillock a few hundred yards inland, firing a shell then reversing out of sight again. He told me that as soon as the Panzer appeared, dozens of escort vessel and hastily erected shore guns would obliterate either the Panzer or whatever it was using for cover. Either way, if the first salvo didn't do the job, the second one always did.

My fathers pride in what he and his shipmates endured for their country is sadly tainted by the fact that it wasn't until a few years ago that his government eventually recognised their bravery by awarding them a small, cheap lapel badge.
This was only brought about after a sustained press campaign which highlighted (amongst other things) the fact that 20 years earlier, the Russian Ambassador in London visited Newcastle and awarded them specially minted medals for their endeavours on the unescorted Russian Convoy.
His worst D-Day memory was watching a direct hit on a ship (he's not sure from what) and the dozens of nurses that were onboard jumping overboard wearing lifejackets only to be straffed "Butchery" he called it.

We should all feel justly proud of what our loved ones did during this terrible period in our worlds history.

Lest We Forget.

Jeez sorry to hear that, I can imagine someone doing that kind of Thing for their country and not getting barely ANY recognition for it thats just wrong in every way.