My dad served in the latter stages of WW11. I now next to nothing of what he did.I know he was an army commando and that he saw Belsen at first hand. I know this because we were once watching a programme called Time watch some time in the late sixties.A section of the programme was about allied troops arriving at Belsen,my dad commented that he was there and never spoke about it again.Sadly he passed away in his early fifties and I never got to find out much of his military career apart from some annecdotes.

Hence the question What did your dad tell you?

My father turns 92 in two months. He was in the US Army and lucky enough to be stationed in Panama, guarding the canal. He sometimes worked with dogs, and said the only time it was really scary was when he was posted on guard at night. When the dog heard something in the jungle, he never knew if it was just a pig, or someone trying to sneak up on him. I also had four uncles who served, one in the US Navy, three in the Army, and one a Marine. They never talked much, but I know one was at Normandy, on D-day. My uncle who was a Marine served as a gunner on SBD dive-bombers in the Solomons. He lost a brother on Saipan, he never forgot, and he never forgave. I once worked with a gentlemen who was in the US Army. He was with an engineer outfit that went into one of the camps in Europe. They were told not to take photographs, but he did anyway. I'll never forget the day he shared that album with me and a co-worker, anyone who claims it never really happened should be beat remorselessly. Al

I can't divulge what my dad has told me. He worked on icbms, toward the end of Vietnam while the Cold War was going strong. However, both of my grandfathers served in the PTO during WWII. One, who I never got to meet was commander of an artillery battalion and served as a translator during the Nuremberg Trials. The other served on the USS Yarnell. He told me about how the boat would move sideways, when they fired a broadside. He also told me of how he kept getting demoted. He managed to fire a shell through the captain's cabin and blow the guns above him off. He was present for the signing of the Japanese surrender. Oh, he was also part of the detachment that sailed into Tokyo Bay. The orders were "shoot everything". After WWII, he re-enlisted and served aboard the USS Brown. He didn't speak of that, much. Unfortunately, he passed away a few months ago.

My dad, who is a Doctor, served aboard the USS Sanctuary AH-17 in 1968-69. The Sanctuary sailed up and down the coast of South Vietnam while helicopters brought the wounded on-board. The ship had a flight deck which could take two Hueys or one Chinook. Seeing wounded coming on-board and triaging them to those who would live and those who were administered morphine and passed away was a terrible experience for him. To this day he rarely speaks of his days in Vietnam. The time on the ship or the time he spent with the Marines at Da Nang. He did tell me one story that during the height of Tet offensive the line of medevac choppers went as far as you could see. They would touch down, off load and go back for more.

My dad was an aerial gunnery instructor during WWII. Never got much out of him until 2009, when he finally spilled the beans. His whole class finished gunnery school and were immediately promoted to instructors. He spend the rest of the war knocking around the South showing guys how to operate the guns on the B-24. He got sent to New York to learn how to use the Bendix gun system on the B-29's. Figured he was headed to Japan, but peace broke out. He spent his final military days as a librarian's assistant at Westover AAFB in Massachusetts. He passed away a week short of his 92 birthday in 2012.

My dad joined the Navy in the Spring of 1945.

He spent time in Texas for basic training and learned to hate flying while getting flight time as a member of the flight crew of a PBY Catalina (he was in the nose turret postition).

One night, after being in town with his shipmates, they returned and thought as a joke they'd let dad off at the far end of the base perimeter to let him walk back in his inebriated condition.

They were near a POW camp for German prisonsers and dad decided to take a short cut through the work fields of the camp. Lights and sirens went off and he was promptly taken in by the MP's.

He said if it wasn't for the fact he had soon after conracted rheumatic fever and spent weeks in the hospital, and then a medical discharge - well let's just say he was lucky to get rheumatic fever.

A grand total of 9 months in the US Navy. He turns 86 this June.

I am very proud to have had a long tradition of military service in my family. I was raised with a great sense of legacy and family history so even being very young I knew to ask questions. I'm so glad for that now as an adult.

My dad wasn't around growing up so I got very few chances. He was a door gunner in Vietnam on huey's and loach's. He served three tours and each time got a purple heart. One time during a major NVA offensive he was shot down three seperate times in one day, but they were fortunate they were flying low to the ground firing to support the infantry and other choppers scooped them up. He said any time they were hit it was the pilots main concern to go down as close to friendly forces as possible.

He used to really "enjoy" riding in the loach's as they would fly tree top level and try to get the VC to shoot at them and then call in cobra gunships to wipe them out. He said it was a great rush being "live bait" and they new something was going to happen when mosquitos hit the windshield and were filled with blood from chewing on the VC below.

I asked him why he went back 3 times and he said after his first tour he came back and saw how the soldiers were being treated and "felt like I didn't belong here anymore so I went where I belonged."

He began racing cars when he came home because he said it gave him a similar adreniline rush that he really missed from the war. I will be the first to admit that he certainly is an adreniline junkie, but not in a good way. I think it's his way of coping with everything.

Hellbent

My dad was drafted at the end of '45 and served from 46-47 in Germany with the occupation forces. He was in a finance unit and traveled all over western Europe working with paymasters. He told me he could tell which units spent a lot of time gambling because the money was always torn up and dirty. He didn't smoke and would trade out his two packs of cigarettes (standard issue) for almost anything he needed. He also served as a driver for a senior officer. He would be ordered to drive to Paris and then told to "wait" for three days, but not try to find the officer. He would spend the time sight seeing. Everything was under reconstruction but things were still a mess. When he was promoted to Sergeant first class, they didn't have a set of proper stripes so they stitched a set of corporal's and PFC stripes to make his rank. My brother has those still. If things had gone differently in the Pacific, he most likely would have wound up on an invasion beach in Japan.

My Grandfather signed up early in the World War 2 and was put into training with the London Irish; I do not know how long he was with them. He first saw combat with the Royal Ulster Rifles in North Africa with the First Army and served throughout the North African Campaign. He then took part in the invasion of Italy and finished the war as a guard in a POW camp. I know that he did serve some time in Malta, but I do not know what he was up to there.

My Grandfather may have been odd in that he had a lot of respect for the German Army, but he had no time for the Italians; perhaps this was due to the fact that the DAK was not the SS. His dislike of the Italians is likely due to nearly being killed in Italy and his best friend who had gone all through North Africa with him was decapitated in Italy by a wire strung across the road. My Grandfather was driving a truck and his friend was manning a gun through a hole in the roof; once he got out of the army he never drove a truck or car again. While in Italy there was a problem with children climbing under the goods trains trying to steal food and the like through the slats of the train cars, a task he was given from time to time was to chase the kids out from under the train with a clout around the ear, one day when get out from under the train it started to move off and would have cut him in two if the friend who was later decapitated had not pulled him free.

Below are scans of a couple of WW2 period pictures I have of him. One is sat on one of Rome’s Lions and the other was taken in North Africa. I do have other pictures but they are either unsuitable material for a family site or use language on them that is not politically correct in this day and age.

Almost nothing, other than he was there. He spoke more about things like introducing popcorn to the Australian family he lived with.

My dad and his two best friends joined USN in 1939; the recruiters used to give them a ride to school during the winter and promised them they could all serve aboard the same ship. One spent his entire time on a "Yippy" YP in Pearl Harbor; one went to the Philippines aboard USS Houston CA-30 "The Galloping Ghost of the Java Coast"; dad was assigned to USS Arizona BB-39.

Dad worked out a swap and transferred to USS Houston in 1941. He said that by the summer they knew that Japan would attack. After Pearl Harbor, Houston was heavily engaged between Australia and Java. She and HMAS Perth survived the 26 Feb 1942 Battle of the Java Sea debacle (the other 13 ABDA Command (American, British, Dutch, Australian) ships did not. Houston & Perth docked in Java for fuel but the Dutch would not provide any and the ships scrambled due to an air raid; dad was sent ashore for burial detail and was left behind. Houston and Perth, alone, engaged the Japanese invasion fleet in Sunda Strait the night of Feb 28-Mar 1.; 2/3 of the crew were killed, the rest captured. Dad escaped Java to Australia on one of the last ships to evacuate Java, USS Isabel, PY-10, and endured numerous air attacks all the way to Australia with USS Asheville (sunk along the way). His friend, seriously wounded on Houston, spent the rest of the war a neglected and mistreated POW, including along the infamous Railroad To Hell (Bridge on the River Kwai fame). That man, David Flynn, told me of his ordeals and filled in some information about dad. Mr. Flynn's son is the creator of the USS Houston site: USS Houston CA-30

I have dad's USN record book of his assignments and awards; also the 3 Western Union telegrams to his parents (in order):
1. Dept. of the Navy: He was missing in action, presumed dead
2. Dad to his parents, that he was alive
3. Dept. of the Navy (3 days AFTER dad cabled his folks): declared KIA

USN declared him KIA at the Battle of Sunda Strait despite dad being alive and well on Isabele, on which he was assigned for the rest of the war.

Interestingly, one of Houston's SOC scoutplane pilots, Mr. Winslow, survived and authored books on USS Houston and the Asiatic Fleet. In The Ghost That Died at Sunda Strait he includes the ship's roster of Feb 1942 and the fate of each crewman. Dad is listed KIA. I tried to contact Mr. Winslow but reached his daughter a month after he passed away.

Mr. Flynn told me the reason for that was a ship reported its roster at the beginning of each month, not shown as repatriated as a POW, so somehow was listed as KIA. (I don't know if that was Mr. Winslow's research or USN confusion.)

Two stories dad did tell from USS Isabel:

1. In 1943 his enlistment was up and he asked his CO about that. He said the CO just looked at him, picked up and began polishing his pistol, and chuckled.

2. Isabel supported submarines based in the area. Dad was a radioman; one sub was about to depart on patrol but its radioman was AWOL. Dad volunteered to go. As he was tossing his seabag into the sub, the SPs pulled up with the radioman - intoxicated and unconscious. The SPs poured him into the sub, dad went back to Isabel, and the sub was never heard from again.

I don't recall the name of the 3rd friend (written down somewhere) who passed away about 10 years ago in Tucson, a medical doctor. Mr. Flynn became the IBM rep in Japan - he said he held no grudge against the Japanese and actually liked them and enjoyed his time there.

Dennis,
This is a really great post! And such as yourself, I know very little of what my Dad (Horace Freeman) did during his career in the United States Army. I do remember that he was overseas a lot and there would be hell to pay upon his return if I misbehaved during his absence -- at least, that's what my Mother would tell me!

I never really sat down with my Dad to ask about his Army experiences, although he would occasionally open up. Somehow, time slipped us by -- the '60s, '70s, '80s, '90s -- Sadly, in 1995, Master Sergeant Freeman was diagnosed with the dreaded Alzheimer's Disease and on April-05-2013, he passed away.

So Dennis,
What your post did was inspire me to begin a new topic which I have added to the forum: "What did your Mother tell you?"

https://armorama.kitmaker.net/forums/222892&page=1

Thanks again for your post. I look forward to reading more stories from the children of veterans from around the world -- Army Brats!

--mike

PS: In January, 1955, this little troublemaker landed on American Soil -- I hear he's still around!

My dad didn't serve during the war but was conscripted into the post war Italian army in 46, he served on the Italian Yugoslav border were the Yugoslavs used to take pot shots at them. He also used to clear mines and drive a universal carrier. My signature is his army unit and motto. My dad did his bit for the allied cause during the war by stealing German boots from a train with a friend near the family home.

He did tell me of my grandads service in the First World War in the same area against the Austro-Hungarians were he got shot in the leg the bullet going through the bone.

Great idea for a post. My dad was a crew chief/mechanic in the USAAC working on P-39's stateside late in the war. His unit was being mobilized to be part of Operation Olympic (invasion of Japan). He later was firm supporter of Atomic energy - go figure.

My step-dad was a driver for a M-7 Priest and he served in Patton's 3rd Army from the day they were put ashore in France until VE Day where he ended up in Czechoslovakia. He did not say much but did mention coming across Prison/Concentration/Youth Hostels camps along the way. Those experiences seemed to have stuck with him more then anything else.

My dad was more open about his time but my step-dad was a little more reserved. Both are gone now.

Cheers

When my dad first transferred to the EOD, he was sent to Germany. Due to a foul up in orders, he was sent to the wrong unit and ended up with the weekend free. After some hard partying, he was quite hung over. He opened his eyes to see the sergeant with an acetylene torch in one hand a scotch and coat hanger in the other welding his exhaust together, next to the gas tank on his Buick Imperial. "Fuck it". He rolled back over and went to sleep.
When he was sent to Vietnam, he was taken on a tour of the camp. I'm not sure if he was still in the artillery or had transferred out. He asked about the enemy sneaking into the camp at night. They referred him to a head stuck on a pike. This was the last guy that snuck into the camp. Two weeks and nobody else had tried.

My dad was called up into the RAF aged 18 in 1944. As a member of the ATC he had already applied for aircrew duties, but having had polio as a child, he was classified C3 (the lowest grade of fitness who could still serve), so was unsuccessful. His bad foot meant he couldn't serve overseas either. After "square bashing" at Padgate, he was posted to Coastal Command as an AC2 radar fitter, and was in on the ground floor with H2S. He still has some photos taken of him and top secret equipment (!) while he was detached to a naval base to test the gear.

On squadron he was stationed on Thorney Island and Calshot Spit, and worked on Sunderlands and American Liberators, including flying test flights on new equipment. Since the war was still on, this was as close as you could get to active service! While at Calshot he and his mates were billeted in the village, and took a narrow gauge railway train out to the Spit every morning. The driver, a civilian was paid danger money, as Calshot was an active RAF station. Incidentally, the CO at Calshot actually owned the station, as it was built on land rented from his family!

The Sunderland flying boats were worked on while still afloat in the harbour, and one of his mates lost his toolkit into the harbour while working on an engine, from a gantry which hung from the wing.

One of the ground crew at Calshot remembered seeing Laurence of Arabia (AC Shaw) while he was developing a speedboat for the RAF. Another of his colleagues, Len Cork, kept in touch after the war and came to visit. Len went on to join the Kenyan Police and fight the MauMau. After this Len emigrated to Australia and became a citizen.

My dad was demobbed in 1946 as an acting Flight Sergeant - pretty good going in two years for someone "excused boots"!
My dad is still around aged 88, he retired from his job as a bank manager in 1983!

My dad told me that he was in the Aleutians and he always turned a funny color and immediately left when he heard "Taps". Later he told me that he had been part of the burial party of the japs who had committed suicide rather than surrender. He and others had to go through the pockets of the dead then put them in a pit where a bulldozer buried them. My mother absolutely hated and still hates the Japanese but if you asked my dad if he hated them he would softly say " No I saw to many of them dead"

It is a bit since I looked in on this thread.I am glad to see that people are realising what opportunities we missed with our parents.

I feel I should write down my story for my kids. Boring it may be but at least they will remember.

Regards to all

Den

My grandfather flew the hump during WWII. There is a picture of him holding me that proves I met him but he was killed in a plane crash soon after I was born.

My dad was a navigator/weapons operator on AC-130s during Vietnam. He was on the crew for the first CAROLINA MOON mission attempting to destroy the Thanh Hoa bridge. Check out Air Force Magazine's article 'Breaking the Dragon's Jaw'.

Cheers to all those Dads out there who did their duty, not just to their kids, but to their countries. I consider myself fortunate that made Dad made it home to me and my family; my condolences to those whose did not.

My Dad, Lt. F.C.Reading finished the war a fighter pilot flying P-51's with the 487th FS (352nd FG)out of Bodney, England.
He had trained in the states in 'single engine pursuit' type a/c but the AAF assigned him to the 9th AF flying C-47 troop carriers.
In Aug. 1944 he participated in 'Operation Dragoon' the invasion of south France flying paratroopers.
In Sept.1944, with the help of Lt.Karl M. Waldron (487th FS) he was able to transfer into the 487th FS 8th AF.
He flew with this squadron for the remainder of the war and accompanied them in the move from Bodney to Asch Belgium. Although he didn't fly that day he was present at Y-29 a forward field on Jan. 1 1945 when J.C Meyer and other members of the 487th met the Luftwaffe head on in their efforts to destroy American a/c on the ground during Operation Bodenplatte.
He flew escort missions to Berlin and other locations in Germany as Waldron's wing man.

Dad's A-2:

My father was drafted into the AirCorp in 1943.He was based at Tampa Florida and Newfoundland until the end of the war, he received citizenship for his service.He served as a cook, I am proud of him even though he did not do anything spectacular.I served in the USN for six years...did nothing spectacular I suppose when you do join the service one is willing to make the ultimate sacrifice? hats off to those who served in combat.