Do any of you have war stories shared by your parents or grandparents?

I had a relative who served on the USS Essex. They went through quite a bit of combat, including kamikaze attacks, but he said nothing scared him as much as riding out Halsey's typhoons, with blue water breaking over the flight deck.

My paw paw fought in the Battle of the Bulge. He'd talk about it occasionally when he had a few pops in him. Said they nearly froze to death and they could hear the Germans talking at night they were so close. He lived until his late 90s and died just a few years ago. He was a wonderful man.

Grandfather served in the marines during WWII, he went through Guadalcanal, Tinian, Saipan, Tarawa and Okinawa. Absolutely amazed he made it through all of that.

My grandfathers were both WW2 vets. One island hopped in the Pacific, one drove a landing boat at D-day. As is typical, both almost never spoke of their war experiences. Once each was all I was ever privvy to.

My paternal grandfather talked about how the beach at Normandy had a bunch of sand bars beneath the surface of water, and said that it was pretty much trial and error getting your men to shore. He named one man on his boat (whose name I wish I remembered) and said that each time they got stuck, this guy would dive in the water and swim around for a bit, signaling them to where they needed to steer the boat. Said that in all the hell around them, shells and bullets flying, that this guy showed no fear, was an absolute hero, and that his skin was blue from the cold water by the time they finally landed.

My maternal grandfather opened up to me once and once only, as we sat there and watched the live premier of Ken Burns’s WW2 on LPB every night for a week. I wish to God that I remembered more of what he told me, but I distinctly remember him talking about how they were being harassed by Japanese snipers after they took a particular island. Apparently they were entrenched in a cave. My grandpa said they sent some baws up to the cave with flamethrowers and as he put it, “that ended all of that.” He also said that he remembered looking with his own eyes on the Enola Gay on its way to the mainland, but obviously didn’t know what it was carrying. Said there was extra tight security so I guess some guys went to see what the fuss was all about it. Pretty incredible, but the old man was not known to lie.

My grandfather served in WWII and wrote and self-published a book (just for his family) detailing his experiences. He’s gone now, and I’m so thankful we have it.

My grandfather was drafted into the Army and landed at D-day (2nd wave). He also was at Battle of Bulge. He got 2 bronze star citations. One for killing a German sniper who had his platoon pinned down (he flanked, snuck up behind, and then shot him). Another for rescuing a guy who was wounded and carrying him out under fire.

There were other stories that happened to him over there that I don't care to tell here as they are kinda personal. I'll just say it was hell for those guys.

My papaw was shot in the leg on Christmas in Vietnam. After he came back and was going through rough times he was at a bar on Christmas and was hit in the same leg by a ricochet when someone pulled a gun during a biker fight. He hates Christmas needles to say.

My grandfather was captured in WWII. I've framed the letter they sent my grandmother stating he was shot down over Germany and was mostly likely dead hanging in my office.

He only talked about his time in the POW camp. My favorite story he told was they were all starving and to take their minds off of food they were going to tell their best sexual adventures. He said that lasted about 10 minutes before they were talking about food again

Both grandfathers were in WWII. One a medic in Europe, the other a Hellcat pilot in the pacific. Pilot grandpa said the zeros would go down with only a few rounds out in them because they were built like paper planes. Light and nimble. Had no remorse because they started the fight.

Grandpa who was a medic was at D-Day. Said they were given lots of morphine, sulfur powder, gauze, and tubes of lipstick.

Their job was basically to morphine up the ones they knew had no chance, put a mark on their forehead, and move on to the next guy. If they had a chance they'd give them basic first aid, gauze, and out a different mark on them. Hell of a thing for a 21yo to have to determine who got help, or who was left to bleed out and die.