My grandfather did that exact deployment on Juneau Beach. He said being in the back row was the only reason he's alive everyone in front was mowed down. I'm glad he barely ever told WWII stories. They were horrifying, and its intimidating when you discover your mom's dad was a mass killer. O what a lovely fucking war.
Sweet Jesus why? I was nodding up until your last word. Too many other awesome places to live in this city that aren't infested with drunk bros, idiots in town for their one night a month "in the city", and all manner of sketchy folk attempting to prey on tourists and Cubs fans. Its really fun on gameday, but by the end of the afternoon, I can't wait to flee...
Mine had a handful of Swatztika armbands. He "Orphaned twenty Kraut kids with a single Thompson magazine." Yeesh. This was the NICE grandpa. It seems our grandparents loved collecting trophies from their dispatched. At least it wasn't a necklace of ears.
Gramps was in The Philippines building bridges during WWII. He was already 50 when they called him back into service because the army needed engineers. In fact, I still have his re-activation paper floating around from October 1941. I should probably scan it. So, The U.S. knew we were going to be involved in some way or another before the Pearl Harbor attacks. Odd man. He was very good at keeping things bottled up. So I can only imagine what was lurking beneath the surface. I only knew him as a 4 year old. My memories of him are few, and based off stories. He died in '86 at the age of 93. A dangerous man, too. He was just a techie in The Pacific, but he was also in Belgium and France for WWI. He was among the first wave to invade; part of the cavalry. Afterwards he spent a year in the woods, self-isolation, never said a word about what he saw, save that he got hit with shrapnel and was exposed to mustard gas. Not a peep else. Same guy that bounces you on his knee racked up dozens of kills. That is so weird to wrap one's head around.
My gramps fought in the Battle of the Bulge and it fucked him up severely. His father, an Italian who emigrated from Italy to France, also fought in the same place in the Battle of the Ardennes in WW1. My gramps never talked about it. When I was about six years old I asked him if he ever killed anyone. He said nothing and walked away sobbing. My great grandmother then ear-fucked me for asking and I never did again. All I know about what he went through is from a book where he's mentioned and how he was 1 of 8 men in his company that made it out alive after they ran for their lives after the Nazis overwhelmed them. Apparently he also fought in Northern Africa.
Yea, the only time I was in the area I was there with my brother, staying with his friends. We spent the entire time I was there getting ripped. I'm sure the scene gets old fast. What I did remember about the area though was there are a fare amount of little gastropubs which was nice, and some good neighborhood bars. And of course there were the places where people go to get ripped and get herpes, but most areas have those places. I'm sure there are much better areas that have those kind of places but I haven't seen a lot of Chicago so thats what came to mind.
That's where I ended up drinking when I was there on St. Paddy's, a bar across from Wrigley's main entrance called "Cubby Bears" where everyone thought my accent was hilarious.
My grandfather gave the Ka-Bar knife he had in WWII. He claims he "cut a few jap throats" with it, but as he was in the Navy handling shells from the big guns, i don't think he ever did more than pick his fingernails with it. He was most defintely NOT a nice man. He was only a wiry little guy, but I can easily picture him knifing someone then chuckling about it.
This is a test post too. I want this guy to star in a Twins remake with Ronny Coleman called "Ain't Nuttin' But A Peanut."