Any war stories from Grandad? Lets hear them!, page 1
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reply posted on 20-4-2006 @ 08:10 PM by benevolent tyrant
Well the only "war story" from my Grandpa that I have to offer is from Russo-Japan war. My Grandfather, Viktor Klemenis, was a Lithuanian in the service of Czar Nicholas II of the Russian Empire. My Grandfather had been a student of music, a composer, as well as a member of Lithuanian nobility from the railroad town of Mazeikiai in the region of Lithuania known as Zemaitija -- also known as Samogitia.

Though technically a soldier, he was of a rank commiserate to that of a general but he planned no battles. Instead he led armies -- at the head of the orchestra! It seems that you just couldn't have a good war in those days unless it was accompanied by a marching band. Maybe this is why the U.S. is having so much difficulty in Iraq. We just need a good band.

Nevertheless, you asked for war stories and the one I heard related to me from my Grandfather -- via through my mother -- was about my grandfather approaching some Japanese women farming. Keeping in mind that my Grandfather was unarmed, he must still have made quite an imposing figure in his Czarist Russian uniform. As he neared the Japanese women, hoping to communicate with them, perhaps to initiate some sort of trade for trinkets or souvenirs, the women ran, panicked. To my Grandfather's horror, the women threw themselves into a well, used to irrigate the crops, and they drowned themselves.

According to my mother, Grandfather returned from the war a shaken man. He devoted the remainder of his life to studying music, managing his estates and playing on weekends with a local Lithuanian jazz band. He certainly had no stomach for war.


reply posted on 20-4-2006 @ 08:33 PM by benevolent tyrant
I don't normally like to follow a post with yet another post -- especially when I am not responding to a supsequent post. However, it occurred to me that, technically I am a "Grandpa" and, well, I do have a "war" story.

I was 18 years old and, like all good American 18 year olds, I had registered with the Selective Service (a.k.a. the "draft board"). Suddenly, the news stories on television held even more importance to me. Though my brother, Vince, was in Viet Nam, serving as an "adviser" in the "brownwater navy" -- then nearly all ARVN -- the war became more personal when my life seemed to be at stake.

Fortunately, I was entering University and that was a sufficient enough distraction to keep from going entirely bonkers at the prospect of being drafted. Instead, I immersed myself into the Academic life and was able to view life through a "it won't happen to me" mindset. Of course that all changed one day in 1972.

I entered the Student Union Building on the campus of Detroit's Wayne State University to grab a coffee when I could not help notice the crowds of students surrounding the television sets that were placed strategically in the lounge areas of the building. When I asked someone "what was going on", the answer pulled my head out of the sand and made me face reality.

It was the
1972 Draft Lottery. The lottery was based upon randomly selecting a birth date (mine, for instance, was August 17th). The selective service official then pulled a ball out of the barrel with a number on it -- a number from 1 to 365. In my case, they pulled out the number 008. "008" was my license to kill. With a number that low, I would surely be drafted!

At that time in the war, there were no college deferments -- unless I was taking something like medicine. I wasn't taking medicine. I felt doomed. At that time in the war, the only "safe" numbers were numbers higher than 250. That means, simply, that the government would establish quotas of men that they felt would be needed by the military. Once that quota was filled, then the draft board stopped calling men into the service based upon the number that their birthday was assigned. Again, my number was "008". I was doomed.

Then, at the end of 1972, President Richard M. Nixon announced that the draft, for all intents and purposes, would be suspended. He felt that no new troops would be required and that they had sufficient troops to fulfill the mission. At that point, all I could do was breathe a deep sigh of relief. From then on, Richard M. Nixon became my "favorite president". Of course, he did keep me from having an "actual" war story to relate here but, to tell you the truth, I really don't mind.

[edit on 4/20/2006 by benevolent tyrant]


reply posted on 21-4-2006 @ 09:36 AM by MischeviousElf
My Grandfather who fought in WW2 died a few yaers ago. He never talked about it much as too traumatic...he joined the RAF as a Captain 5 years before the War`Started and was therefore very upset when it started except for the whole stopping hitler thing...

However he did mention one of the incidents when he was trying to stop bombers coming over british cities and he got bad shrapnel wounds.... he was officer in charge of an old costal command boat a big thing with 3 manned guns and a co pilot and navigator.... one of the gunners got shot up so he went back to help the man who died in his arms, he then took on the gun turret himself leaving the command to the co pilot... they got a few that day.... however he never forgets one bomber very close to them as he was raking it with the gun he could actually see the face on the german gunner trying to return fire and saw him explode as he hit him with a shell... he said he could see that he was only 17/18 and it affected him deeply... he never mentioned anything else used to just stare into the distance if asked looking upset. He served the whole war and must have been responsible for many deaths which he found hard to cope with noi matter what the need... ie to protect his family etc...

He used to do one thing though... when you see war films and the flyers are like "Jolly good show lets go and get some Kraut then" he used to be discusted as in reality they used to post your name on the base wall that morning for your mission and if you would be going up that day.... ther was none of that swagger and "jolly good show" after being up a few times most of the men were shaking and sick (they had a large bucket put by the lists for this reason) when they saw they were on that day. My grandad went up 85 times and the survival rate was averaged at one in 26 flights.... he kept asking for ground duty as he was coming close to the highest sorties in the country at the time still alive but they pushed him... eventually he had a nervous breakdown after loosing another crew and surviving again... they then put him on ground command.

war is horrible and the greatest pacifists are usually those with some knowledge not film antics.

MischeviouslyBeing RespectfullToOurGrandfathersForTheRightToTypeThisFreely

Elf
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