Next time you think you've had a bad day...

[PRB]

My father was a medic with the 262nd Station Hospital Medical Detachment, which served with the 5th Army in North Africa and Sicily from 1943 to 1945. When the war in Europe ended, the 262nd was placed on a ship headed home. But, half way across the Atlantic, they were told that they were placed on the wrong ship by mistake. No problem, right? Who cares what ship I'm on, as long as it's going home! … Umm, this ship is going home, … right...? The answer was, “umm, no, sorry, but this ship is going to the Philippines. We're going there to prepare for the invasion of Japan. We're very sorry, but you will have to come with us...” :icon_eek: :mad: Can you imagine this?? Holy crap!! After some research, I verified this story, as it was repeated by the CO of the 262nd, on his family's web site.

So they went through the Panama Canal, and Dad described seeing a severely damaged aircraft carrier going the other way from the Pacific (Franklin, Bunker Hill?) As it happened, they were half way across the Pacific when the Pacific War ended too. But the ship continued on to the Philippines, and on to Japan, where he saw what was left of Nagasaki... He arrived in Bremerton, WA in December, 1945, and rode a train all the way home to Maine, just in time for Christmas. Amazing.

[tigisfat]

that's a great story.

While growing up, I sometimes doubted my grandfather's stories. I never said anything to him, but I just wondered how truthfull they were because some of them were pretty wild. Over time all of them were proven to be true, and I deeply regret doubting him.

[PRB]

A good point, tig. I too sometimes took some of my dad's stories with a bit of a “grain of salt”. Heck, especially so after serving for 13 years in the navy, LOLOL. This particular story, however, I did not doubt. My research in this case was related to the part of the story he told of seeing the bent, burnt, and battered (but not broken) aircraft carrier limping through the Panama Canal, headed east. I always wanted to know what ship that was. Today I think it was the USS Franklin (CV-13), an Essex class ship that suffered fearsome damage in the Okinawa campaign. The dates and times match up, best I can tell. It was during my research for this purpose that I ran across the web site of the Peer family. Col. George F. Peer was the CO of the 262nd medical detachment during this period, and the story of being put on the wrong ship was documented there, exactly as Dad told it. It was cool to find “corroboration” of this story, especially from the unit's commanding officer.

[Willy]

My Dad was a career Marine and almost never talked about his experiences in Korea and his two tours in Vietnam. But my Grandpa on my mom's side used to tell me stories about his grandpa who was a Confederate Civil War veteran. There was one story about a failed Confederate attempt to kidnap Lincoln that I later read about in a book on the Civil War.

[PRB]

My Dad was a career Marine and almost never talked about his experiences in Korea and his two tours in Vietnam. But my Grandpa on my mom's side used to tell me stories about his grandpa who was a Confederate Civil War veteran. There was one story about a failed Confederate attempt to kidnap Lincoln that I later read about in a book on the Civil War.

Wow. Interesting. In the past few years I've been reading more Civil War history. It's an amazing story in itself, but probably not for the NewsHawks..!

[gigabyte]

PRB, that is the same type of thing that happened to me, my father and great uncle served in the Korean War on HMCS Haida. My father died when I was just an infant, however my great uncle always delighted in telling me tales of their time together on "Happy Haida" as she was called. I always thought he was embilishing just a little, sometimes A LOT, but I was doing some research for my family history and darn if I was not able to verify the most outragous tales he told, the old bugger never added anything - Just the facts!

Here are my 3 favs (shortened versions);

#1 Haida is in Pearl preparing to deploy to Korea, all the ships that were to patrol the packages had to do gunnery practice - shoot at drones towed by US pilots using C47's. 1st day on the range, the gun crews on Haida fired 4 shots, got 3 drones - that was the number of drones avaliable for the day, there were 4 or 5 other ships that had been waiting their turn to qualify, their gunners didn't get a shot, all of them had been trying for over a week to get a single drone. When Haida tied along side in Pearl a large Army/Air Force(?) Duce & 1/2 pulled along side and some airmen jumped out and carried several cases of very good Scotch, and enough beer for the entire crew up the gangway. Asked for the "Old Man" and simply said with the thanks of the Goonie Bird crews this was the easiest day we have had this year (it was Nov). Haida was scheduled for 3 or 4 more days on the range, when they got there they received an order to stay back until all others had fired so there would be something for them to shoot at...lol

#2 Custom on RCN (comes from British Navy I think) ships is to issue each man a "Tot" of Rum (the good "Dark & Dirty" 151 proof Navy Rum) each day. An officer would supervise the "dolling of the Tot" and any left over rum was disposed of - DOWN the SINK! Well my Great Uncle did not drink and was normally chosen to do the Doll, there was generally a couple cups left in the bucket every night (as in close to a quart of Rum), and he always smiled at the officer as the excess was dumped down the #7 Mess sink. As soon as things got quiet and most of the boys were racked out, good old sober Unckle Kenz would open the mess cupboard and remove the bucket from under the sink drain and replace the trap for the night. He always managed to avoid watch or other unpopular duties because he knew where the "Stash" was and a little Rum would get you out of any duty...lol

#3 Haida is doing a patrol package off the coast of N Korea, the Old Man is in Japan with Captians from several other allied ships, some kind of meetings. There was a British XO sent aboard, I supose to ensure there were two senior officers but I don't know exactly why. This visiting XO had watch on a Sunday morning, Haida was at anchor not far from shore, and he called for a full dress inspection on deck, he was told the Old Man had stopped the practice when in north Korean waters but the XO insisted so every on duty sailor was ordered on deck in full dress whites. The XO started down the lines, by the time he made it to the 3rd sailor there was a huge whoosh, and a big plume of water lept up just over the bow - You guessed it, there was a N Korean gun mounted on a train up on the mountian taking pot shots at Haida sitting at Anchor. The Haida's XO apparently used some very "ungentlemanly language" and ordered general quarters, the anchor was slipped the 4" guns locked and loaded and Haida was at 25 knots in minutes. The only thing that saved them was the fact that the Korean guns were high on a mountian mounted on a rail car and they could not get the gun aimed low enough so they over shot. just as the Haida got underway, a british destroyer 2 miles off shore opened up with larger guns, and the train started to move, then suddenly the side of the mountian and the train just sort of fell into the sea, 15 miles out one of the US Battle ships opened up with her 16" guns and that was the end of that train...lol

The way my G Uncle told it the visiting XO was a brilliant officer, great to the crew and fellow officers, he just had this thing about the traditional regs followed on his duty watches, and he insisted, that was the very last Full Dress Inspection on any of the Cdn destroyers while in a battle zone according to my Great Uncle anyway...lol

I always had a hard time believing any of those stories were true, then I read a book published by the Canadian Navy Press (I think that was the name they used) written by the Commanding Officer of HMCS Haida during the Korean tour, the stories were all confirmed, well except he did not name my G Uncle as the sailor with the Rum Stash, but he said he knew all about it, and left it be, as long as no one was caught drunk on deck or duty it would have been a shame to waste good Rum...

OK they were not so short, but they are great tales of Shipboard life from one of my Hero's!

[cheezyflier]

my dad wouldn't talk about his time in the war. he was the signal man on a sub chaser. i know his ship never fought any subs, but that's all i really know.

[harleyman]

Nice storyies...

My dad was in the Army and Navy...

Navy put him onshore at the Canal walking the beaches as a lookout..They shot cans and monkeys he said with their 45 sidearms to pass the time..(so he says)...

[OBIO]

My dad was a US Marine in the late 50s and early 60s. Told a lot of stories about his time in the Corps....seemed to be a lot of stories involving a certain bar in Tiajuana and his best bud Paul....seems those two made a run for the Border every chance they got. There was one story Dad told that used to keep me spell bound....he said that he got run over by a Jeep while doing push-ups one morning. Down, up, down, up, down, OUCH! He said that just as he pushed up, he heard a sound, looked up just in time to see the front bumper of a Jeep that had rolled out of the motor pool garage. The bumper, he said, caught him square across the forehead. He was rushed to the base hospital, into surgery and received a nice metal plate across the front of his head.

Now, Dad could stick a magnet to his forehead, and had what looked like two scars on either side of his forehead. For years, I believed him and told my friends that Dad had a metal plate in his head from when he got run over by a run away Jeep while doing push ups. Now this impressed my friends greatly...but not as much as the fact that one of Dad's exercises was busting bricks and blocks with his bare fists or doing 250 one-hand push ups with each arm every evening, or doing 500 pull ups, or climbing a tree like a monkey, or bare-foot water skiing behind a 350 hp jet boat at 80 MPH in the dead of winter just because he was bet a cold beer that he wouldn't do it.

As I got older, I realized that the "scars" were just lines/wrinkles in his skin and that any light, flat smooth object can be stuck to your forehead...push a penny against your forehead...it will stick unless you have really dry skin. Did Dad really have a metal plate in his head...most likely not. But I never said a word in opposition to the fact...to the contrary....I helped him tell the story to my niece and nephews and would be as "surprised" as they were when Dad stuck a magnet to his head and would point out the "scars" on his head.

Dad has been gone for almost 15 years now...and sometimes it's hard to remember the details of his face, the sound of his voice...but while typing this...I got the clearest memories I have had in a long while. I could hear my Dad's voice as he told the story of his metal plate.

OBIO

[TARPSBird]

Going back to PRB's post, my favorite "how did I get here" story was told by my former Commanding Officer. During Vietnam he was assigned to the Defense Attache's office in Beirut, Lebanon (before all the civil strife). One day a young Air Force Sgt. shows up at the Embassy asking for help getting back to his duty station, Tan Son Nhut AB in Vietnam. He had been on R&R in Thailand and boarded a C-141 to return to his base but for some logistical reason it was diverted in flight to Germany. There was no US military traffic heading back to Southeast Asia so somehow he secured a flight on Air France but they could only get him as far east as Beirut.
After several exchanges of message traffic the attache finally got things sorted out and the Sgt. finally got back to Vietnam. :d

[stansdds]

I had a grandfather who served in WW II. At the time of his enlistment, he was interested in electronics and radios. He enlisted in the U.S. army because he feared being drafted into the navy, he hated being on water. In the army, he requested being assigned to the signal corps. He went through basic and was supposed to go for training in the signal corp, but he was put on the wrong train. Instead of putting him on another train, the army changed his orders and he became an infantryman. He was either 28 or 29 years old, rather ancient to be a newly minted infantryman, but there was a war on in 1942.

He was sent to Australia, where the army created a unit called the 1st Ship and Gun Crew Command, he spent most of the next three years in that unit, on ships and landing craft. After that, he loved the water and enjoyed going out on boats to fish.

[Ken Stallings]

Truly some excellent stories being told here!

Here is mine:

My uncle on my mother's side was a medic in the ETO and went from Normandy through the end of the war. Was bombed by the Luftwaffe and was in the Battle of the Bulge. Once he was with his platoon leader and they were pinned down behind a jeep by a German machine gun nest. My uncle grabbed an M1 Carbine and charge the machine gun nest and took out the Germans -- with a freaken M-1 Carbine!!!

His platoon leader was simply grateful to be alive, but also recognized the obvious heroism of my uncle's exploit. So, he quite rightly put him in for a Silver Star. Now, in my view, that's the least he earned! Personally, single handedly taking out a machine gun nest with a carbine rifle is DSC stuff. But, the Army brass cared more about regulations than rewarding bravery. So, since my uncle was a medic, he was not authorized to carry a rifle. He was considered by the rules of war to be a non-combatant. Unfortunately, the Germans manning that MG didn't get the Army's memo and opened up on him!

But, rules being rules, my uncle's citation recommendation was denied and the brass made no recommendation for any lesser citation! He got nothing because I guess he was supposed to let the Germans kill him and his platoon leader because the rules said so!

Well, the platoon leader by some relative miracle, managed to survive the Battle of the Bulge and the rest of the war. When the Germans surrendered, George S. Patton, allowed each platoon in Third Army to put one member in for a Bronze Star as a reward for previously unrecognized heroic duties. The platoon leader, being still alive and well, immediately put my uncle in. Since Patton ordered it be done, my uncle's recommendation was approved for general excellence without reference to the killing of the German MG crew.

My uncle showed me the Bronze Star and the photo of him being pinned by General George Patton himself! Ironically, the accompanying photo put in the town's newspaper was wrong -- the Army had screwed up and sent the hometown paper a photo of someone else getting pinned!

Since that time, I have always considered the Bronze Star in light of what it took my uncle in World War II to do to earn it! Take out a MG unit with a carbine and your personal efforts and get a Bronze Star! So, I've been a bit troubled by seeing senior officers and NCO's in the rear get it as a combat garrison equivalent of a Meritorious Service Medal. They carried out garrison administrative duties sans danger and got a Bronze Star!

My uncle really earned it! :engel016:

Ken

[rayrey10]

Paul,
Thanks for sharing that great story. And you are very correct, there is always someone else that is having a worse day then you.

Ray

[Bjoern]

Yep, that's definately worse than ending up in the wrong town of the same name because some meathead in the company's office fogot to double check the destination. So after a serveral hour PITA journey with all your equipment (60kgs) in public transportation with serveral changes (try to offload, haul 60kgs in serveral bags across a rail station and load it onto a train in five minutes) you end up in the middle of the bavarian *nowhere* instead of that barracks in Baden. Then you take serveral trains and buses *again* over to the right place and nearly get a disciplinary punishment for it because no one of those paperclip pushers realized their mistake.
End of the line: They fortunately chopped the right head off.

But dang, I did hate army bureaucracy ever since.

There's even a saying "Y Tours - Wir buchen, sie fluchen". Translates roughly into: "Y (the license plate of german military vehicles stats with a "y") Tours - we book, you cook (turn red from anger)"


As for never told stories, I neither ever got to hear about my uncle's military service in the NVA nor firsthand details about my grandfather's short time in the Volkssturm.