jonesey said:
I was going to add this to an ongoing discussion, but the title of "ghana" was as you can see increasingly inappropriate.
Having returned from my Dad's funeral, I share a harrowing wartime tale of his in my blog. I found it amongst his papers. Originally he out this together for a school project for one of my kids, about ten years ago.
https://itsjonesey.wixsite.com/mysite/single-post/2018/08/15/Another-Tadcu-Tale
We owe them so much. I had an Uncle wounded in Algeria........fortunately he made it home.
We owe them all so very much.
Being history buff, I have read extensively about most of the wars over the last 200 years. Reading the recollections of a regular soldier, gives you a whole different perspective.
Thank you for sharing that story and your memories.
Near the beginning of WWII my maternal grandfather, a 15-year-old Jew from Czechoslovakia, escaped to Palestine (before it became Israel). When he turned 16 he enlisted in the British army. All I know about his experience is that he served as a motor mechanic in Egypt, and they called him "Dr. Jeep".
such a small world - my late cousin ‘Nicky’ Marlow (real name Edward Alexander M) was in the Somerset group, in Tobruk! Perhaps he knew your dad? (He was called Nicky after Old Nick himself, the story goes... ) (He stayed in Palestine, met and married my cousin Ruth, later took her back to England then out here in the early ‘50s)
When I growing up, our next-door neighbour was a ‘Rat of Tobruk’. He’d join his mates for reunions and remembrances but refused to march because he agreed, War is Hell.
“Before Alamein we never had a victory. After Alamein we never had a defeat.”
Maybe some of my people ran into some of your people, folks.
War is a terrible thing. We are reminded by that war it is not the most terrible.
There were a couple of guys who were in WW II. I didn't know them as they were before the war but people who did said they were not quite the same when they came back.
Two wounded Uncles in my family. One received a cross of gallantry for rescuing wounded while he himself bled. And two Purple Hearts for that action.
One minor wound that left the other Uncle with a limp for his life time.
Nine went overseas whole. Seven came back in the same condition.
There must be a better way.
My dad had a bunch of war stories. He never talked about the actual battles.
I've just added the third and last of my father's many many stories which he actually committed to paper to my blog. This one is long after his Army days.
https://itsjonesey.wixsite.com/mysite/single-post/2018/08/20/One-more-Tadcu-Tale
War stories passed down to us
In early 1944 my Uncle who was then possibly 19 years old, found himself on a troop ship bound for England. Who else was on board but the English PM......Winston Churchill. At one point he was asked to address the boys.........and boys to men they would soon become.
Churchill spoke to the troops and told them not to worry, " The war was winding down and most of them would never fire a weapon in earnest.
A few months later my Uncle and the men in his unit found themselves completely surrounded by
overwhelming numbers of the enemy. They were in a little cross roads town named Bastogne.
When food ran out they ate and drank snow. And held out hoping for reinforcements..
The stories of heroism are legend.............as is the name of the battle, the costliest ever fought by any American group
When help arrived and the battle wound down, casualties numbered over 100,000.
When politician tells you not to worry, be afraid be very afraid.
Churchill's reputation is much better than he deserved. My Dad was bitter about him.
author said:
War stories passed down to us
In early 1944 my Uncle who was then possibly 19 years old, found himself on a troop ship bound for England. Who else was on board but the English PM......Winston Churchill. At one point he was asked to address the boys.........and boys to men they would soon become.
Churchill spoke to the troops and told them not to worry, " The war was winding down and most of them would never fire a weapon in earnest.
A few months later my Uncle and the men in his unit found themselves completely surrounded by
overwhelming numbers of the enemy. They were in a little cross roads town named Bastogne.
When food ran out they ate and drank snow. And held out hoping for reinforcements..
The stories of heroism are legend.............as is the name of the battle, the costliest ever fought by any American group
When help arrived and the battle wound down, casualties numbered over 100,000.
When politician tells you not to worry, be afraid be very afraid.
Funny post script............when defeat seemed inevitable, the German commander sent a message to his American counterpart demanding surrender, The American commander answered with one word, 'NUTS"
lt took the Germans two days to figure out the meaning.
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I was going to add this to an ongoing discussion, but the title of "ghana" was as you can see increasingly inappropriate.
Having returned from my Dad's funeral, I share a harrowing wartime tale of his in my blog. I found it amongst his papers. Originally he put this together for a school project for one of my kids, about ten years ago.
https://itsjonesey.wixsite.com/mysite/single-post/2018/08/15/Another-Tadcu-Tale