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

An uncle was stationed at Pearl Harbor on a sub. He said that that Sat. was pay day & all the sailors had their pay, in cash, in their pants pockets. All shite broke out and his sub had flames every where. As they scrambled to abandon ship, someone screamed out "my money"...they were in their undershorts..and they all turned as one back into the sub, risking their lives, to grab their pants /cash. Returning to the surface of the sub, flames & explosions all around them, an officer was screaming at them to jump, "NOW", so, he said, scared to death they all tossed their pants and leaped into the burning waters. Leaving all their money to the flames.

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He did not say much except that they did not take and prisoners and neither did we

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My now deceased father-in-law, who fought in the battle of the bulge, told me two stories, that I can recall.
He said the only thing on a "grunts" mind was survival.
He was issued a bazooka when he was sent into battle. He said he lost it the first week. When you fire a bazooka the enemy knows your position.
He also said that when they captured German prisoners, there was one soldier who had the responsibility of taking them back to the prison. The prison was a days march. When the soldier left with his prisoners he would return in a couple of hours.

Little Military humor.
I was on a FBM Submarine in the 60's in the middle of the cold war. After a patrol we returned to Rota Spain. A shipmate, Michael Hayden, and I, had planned d to take leave in Europe, instead of returning to the states with the crew. Since we were in a secretive operation and there were many Soviet spies in Europe, we were required to travel in civilian clothes and had orders for such. We flew military HOPs around Europe. Mike and I, both Missile Technician 2nd class, had no idea that we had special paperwork until well into our vacation. Each time we went into an airport, showed them our paperwork, we were bumped to the top of the list even though the waiting room was full when we arrived. One flight we were aboard Columbine, Eisenhower's airplane during WW II. The other passengers were several officers, probably NATO, who must have thought we were VIPs. One invited us to the Officers club once we arrived. When the airplane landed, we were about a hundred yards from the terminal. Two of the young Officers grabbed our luggage and carried it to the terminal.
Unfortunately that status didn't last long. Once we returned to Rota, Spain, awaiting the next crew's flight back to the states, we were assigned the duty of washing the Admiral's automobile.
Bummer!

One of my uncles suffered PTSD at the Battle of the Bulge. He spent his life in and out of VA hospitals until the mid 1950s. He snapped one day and then had to spend the rest of his life in a VA hospital where he underwent shock treatment and smoked too much. Hence we never heard any stories of the Battle of the Bulge. War sucks.

My great uncle was gassed by the Germans in WWI. He was lucky and got a federal job in DC. He's buried in Arlington.

Another uncle of mine lucked out. He guarded Japanese POWs in the Pacific theater.

My dad was a Vietnam War vet but he lucked out since he was a secretary in an office.

Dad was a P-51 pilot still in training when the A bombs were dropped. Had orders for Operation Downfall. He said that strafing practice consisted of runs at a 6’ x6’ target in a pasture with 2 of 6 .50 cals loaded to conserve ammo. When he peeled off after the strafing run, if there happened to be a cow in the pasture it became a second target. Also told about flying so low over the gulf that the prop would leave a wake

One of my grandfathers fought WW1,He got shot in leg right above the knee,he had the bullet and Purple Heart wrapped up in a handkerchief he kept in dresser.He would take them out to show me and then pull up pant leg to show me the scar.He also got gassed with mustard gas.
After he recovered he was assigned a unit where he posed as a French citizen,actually lived with a French family.Something about trying to combat black market activity.
My mother said he and the French family corresponded for years after the war,sent each other Christmas cards,etc.

My pawpaw was a navy corpsman on Iwo Jima. The thing he said that will always stay with me was "you know, death has it's own smell. It's not just the flesh, blood, or sulfur. It's in every ration...we'd taste it with every meal. I can close my eyes and be right back there".

Left the island after 23 days, and sailed back to San Francisco, where he worked in a hospital while readying to train for the invasion of Japan. Luckily, that never came to fruition.

shite's heavy. Almost too heavy to fathom. The Pacific Theater wasn't the glorified war that the European Theater had...it was gruesome. Both sides engaging in some of the most primal warfare seen in modern times.

My BIL’s uncle was on the USS Arizona, and my close friend’s wife’s uncle was also on the USS Arizona in Pearl Harbor when bombed by the Japanese, Dec 7, 41. Neither survived the ship’s magazine explosion. Both Louisiana boys, we don’t if they knew each other as the ships crew numbered 1,500 sailors. Both interred in the ships hull and their names adorn the plaque at the USS Arizona memorial with the other nearly 1,200 sailors who are entombed in the ship’s hull.

Paternal uncle, my dads brother, was radio operator and later radar operator on B-29s that flew missions over Japan. Had a family reunion a couple months ago and my cousins had my uncles scrap book with photos he took while stationed on Tinian Island and on a few B-29 missions. Photos of both atomic bomb planes taken after their missions, a beautiful aerial photo he took from his B-29 of other B-29s in flight in front of Mount Fuji on a bombing mission to Tokyo, another photo he took in flight from his B-29, in a B-29 bomber formation, of the USS Missouri as the Japanese were signing the peace surrender in Tokyo Bay. I know he flew over either Hiroshima or Nagasaki on a mission after the atomic bombs were dropped and commenting to my dad that the city was a burning cinder.

Maternal uncle fought with the marines in the Pacific and participated in a number of island battles. I remember when I was young he had a pair of swords he retrieved off of a dead Japanese officer in a closet at my grandparents home. I always hoped I could inherit those swords as he never had children, and when my mom asked him about it on my behalf a couple years before he died, he had recently sold them to a collector.

My dad graduated high school in 1944, joined the Navy and was sent the Philippines after it was liberated by Macauthur. Though he requested active combat duty the war was near its end so he didn’t see action. .He skippered a patrol boat that ferried admirals to their ships in Subic Bay before he was sent home in 46.

My uncle is 95 and dad 93 - both still kicking - though my uncle is in poor health and dad in very good health. I say this thinking how my dad at 93 entered ww2 service in 44 and was sent overseas as the war in the Pacific was winding down. Guys, in not too many years, there will be no living ww2 vets with us any longer.

?? na he didn’t want anyone having them and was buried with them.

Before he died in 2016 my grandfather answered a few questions for a school interview project my niece was doing. A couple of them had to do with WWII. He never talked about the war. For all my young then adult never once told any stories. I kwew he has a silver and bronze star but I had no idea how he got them. He would always just say "Just trying to survive"

I later found out one of his silver stars he earned by driving a truck full of ammo through a barrage of artillery and small arms fire to deliver it to a group of soldiers on the front lines who badly needed it. His reasoning? They needed it and he was tired of the Germans trying to blow the truck up by his artillery position.

Excerpts from the interview.

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In War II there were nine campaigns in Europe, and I was in eight of them.

I have a story for you:

At different times the 3rd Division was under the command of General George S. Patton, who was the meanest, most feared soldier in any army. American soldiers hated him as much as the Germans hated him. Patton was colorful, hard driving, and successful. He motivated his soldiers by leading from the front and the use of vulgar, harsh language.

One day one of our artillery pieces broke down, and my lieutenant ordered me to take it to the rear so that it could be repaired. I hooked the artillery piece to a big truck and started towing it back to the repair shop that was a mile or so away.

I was headed back when a jeep pulled in front of me. General Patton jumped out of that jeep and started screaming, "Soldier, where at you going with that &%$#@ cannon?"

I saluted and replied, "Sir, I am taking it to be repaired, Sir."

Patton yelled, "No, you are not. Turn that %$#@ truck around and get that cannon on the front line now."

I saluted and replied, "Sir, yes, sir."

He then jumped back into his jeep and drove away.

When he drove out of sight, I crawled back into my truck and continued to the repair shop.

So this is my claim to fame...I was personally cussed out by General George Patton.


When I was in the Army, I traveled by ship, jeep, half track, tank, bicycle, motorcycle, car, bus, horse....anything to keep from walking.

Sometimes I "borrowed" a jeep (laughs). One time my buddy and I "borrowed" a jeep. We drove to Palermo and rented a hotel room. Palermo was a town that was still under the control of the German army.
As we were eating, we looked out the window and saw a squadron of German soldiers scrambling by. Luckily they didn't see us (laughs).

I was on the front lines of combat for 531 days. I tried to keep my fears under some degree of control. My greatest fear was that I would never see my mother, father, brothers, and sisters again.

What was it like knowing that someone was trying to kill you?


I was nervous, of course. An old adage is, "There are no atheists in a foxhole." I can assure you that adage is true.

Every day, while I was gone, my mother would go into the forest near our house and pray that I would return home safely. Her prayers gave me great comfort.

I am a seventh son and seventh sons are lucky. I know that I was lucky.

I tried to be an effective soldier. I must have been successful. The French government awarded me with several medals and citations (I cannot remember the names of the awards.) The United States government awarded me two Silver Stars, two Bronze Stars, World War II Victory Medal, and a Good Conduct Medal.

Now I laugh at my Good Conduct Medal. The US government does not know that I "borrowed" jeeps, went AWOL into German occupied territory, and ignored a direct order from a General.

Thankfully, I never earned a Purple Heart (an award for being wounded in war time.) A German pilot strafed our position, and a machine gun round went through my helmet without hurting me. Another time a German pilot dropped a bomb within a few feet of me, and the bomb didn't explode. Several times German soldiers shot at me. The rounds punctured my clothes without touching me. I am sure that Mother's prayers worked.

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My grandfather fought in WWII in the Pacific.

One day, I can’t remember what island he said, after a battle he and his buddies took turns getting closer and closer to a rotting, mangled Japanese soldier’s body. While eating a sandwich.

The guy who won walked up to the body, placed his sandwich down onto the charred, rotting mangled flesh. Turned and looked at them, then picked up his sandwich and ate the entire thing, placing it back down onto the body after each bite.

My paw paw and the others threw up.