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The Fallen of World War II.


cptau

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Very powerful. Thank you for posting. I pray nothing like WW2 ever happens again, though I think we all expect that eventually it will. May all of the fallen of that terrible war and every war before or since rest in peace.

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Very interesting. Of course, the neat and clean numbers , as presented, are staggering enough. But they hide the apocalyptic nature of 1000's of dead in a single day, or a million dead in a city over 2 years.

Paid the price of admission though. Well done.

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My father's plane was shot down in the South Pacific and he was killed when I was seven weeks old. In 2009 the wreckage was discovered. After I submitted DNA samples for verification, my family and I were flown to attend the services at Arlington. A military funeral at Arlington is a most impressive thing to see. The United States can be a very fine country, to keep looking for and finding remains that were over 60 years old.

Now, though I never knew my father I did grow up during a time when lots of WW2 vets were around. Some, like one of my uncles, were damaged beyond repair. It wasn't just the wounds he suffered in North Africa, something happened to his mind. That uncle drank until he got liver troubles from alcohol and died in a VA hospital in 1965. It was an unpleasant life followed by a miserable death.

Another uncle flew 100 missions over Europe, came home, used his G.I. Bill benefits to get an engineering degree, founded a steel firm, got rich and became what could be a poster boy for The Greatest Generation.

Another vet in the neighborhood when I was a kid could tell you every type of tank the Germans and Americans used, how many were destroyed in what battles and so forth. But that was all he could do. The owner of the neighborhood convenience store let him sweep sometimes to pay for his cigarettes. The rest of the time he'd sit on a milk crate in front of the store and re-fight his battles.

As time passes, there are fewer of us that remember the men that fought in WW2. There's nothing to be done about it, but lets all hope a few memories are retained in libraries, etc.

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My father's plane was shot down in the South Pacific and he was killed when I was seven weeks old. In 2009 the wreckage was discovered. After I submitted DNA samples for verification, my family and I were flown to attend the services at Arlington. A military funeral at Arlington is a most impressive thing to see. The United States can be a very fine country, to keep looking for and finding remains that were over 60 years old.

Now, though I never knew my father I did grow up during a time when lots of WW2 vets were around. Some, like one of my uncles, were damaged beyond repair. It wasn't just the wounds he suffered in North Africa, something happened to his mind. That uncle drank until he got liver troubles from alcohol and died in a VA hospital in 1965. It was an unpleasant life followed by a miserable death.

Another uncle flew 100 missions over Europe, came home, used his G.I. Bill benefits to get an engineering degree, founded a steel firm, got rich and became what could be a poster boy for The Greatest Generation.

Another vet in the neighborhood when I was a kid could tell you every type of tank the Germans and Americans used, how many were destroyed in what battles and so forth. But that was all he could do. The owner of the neighborhood convenience store let him sweep sometimes to pay for his cigarettes. The rest of the time he'd sit on a milk crate in front of the store and re-fight his battles.

As time passes, there are fewer of us that remember the men that fought in WW2. There's nothing to be done about it, but lets all hope a few memories are retained in libraries, etc.

thx, very interesting. I hope your uncle included you in his will.
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My father's plane was shot down in the South Pacific and he was killed when I was seven weeks old. In 2009 the wreckage was discovered. After I submitted DNA samples for verification, my family and I were flown to attend the services at Arlington. A military funeral at Arlington is a most impressive thing to see. The United States can be a very fine country, to keep looking for and finding remains that were over 60 years old.

Now, though I never knew my father I did grow up during a time when lots of WW2 vets were around. Some, like one of my uncles, were damaged beyond repair. It wasn't just the wounds he suffered in North Africa, something happened to his mind. That uncle drank until he got liver troubles from alcohol and died in a VA hospital in 1965. It was an unpleasant life followed by a miserable death.

Another uncle flew 100 missions over Europe, came home, used his G.I. Bill benefits to get an engineering degree, founded a steel firm, got rich and became what could be a poster boy for The Greatest Generation.

Another vet in the neighborhood when I was a kid could tell you every type of tank the Germans and Americans used, how many were destroyed in what battles and so forth. But that was all he could do. The owner of the neighborhood convenience store let him sweep sometimes to pay for his cigarettes. The rest of the time he'd sit on a milk crate in front of the store and re-fight his battles.

As time passes, there are fewer of us that remember the men that fought in WW2. There's nothing to be done about it, but lets all hope a few memories are retained in libraries, etc.

thx, very interesting. I hope your uncle included you in his will.

The uncle that died in the VA hospital did! I got a little Derringer pistol and an elephant's tooth he picked up somewhere in Africa. My cousin got his Viewnmaster toy with pictures of nekkid girls and some French playing cards showing same, items he picked up while recovering in England before getting shipped back to stateside hospitals. That was the sum total of that uncle's possessions, other than some worn out clothes.

The rich uncle, my father's brother, left me nothing. He had his own kids and grandkids to bequeath farms, condos, boats and the like.

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My father's plane was shot down in the South Pacific and he was killed when I was seven weeks old. In 2009 the wreckage was discovered. After I submitted DNA samples for verification, my family and I were flown to attend the services at Arlington. A military funeral at Arlington is a most impressive thing to see. The United States can be a very fine country, to keep looking for and finding remains that were over 60 years old.

Now, though I never knew my father I did grow up during a time when lots of WW2 vets were around. Some, like one of my uncles, were damaged beyond repair. It wasn't just the wounds he suffered in North Africa, something happened to his mind. That uncle drank until he got liver troubles from alcohol and died in a VA hospital in 1965. It was an unpleasant life followed by a miserable death.

Another uncle flew 100 missions over Europe, came home, used his G.I. Bill benefits to get an engineering degree, founded a steel firm, got rich and became what could be a poster boy for The Greatest Generation.

Another vet in the neighborhood when I was a kid could tell you every type of tank the Germans and Americans used, how many were destroyed in what battles and so forth. But that was all he could do. The owner of the neighborhood convenience store let him sweep sometimes to pay for his cigarettes. The rest of the time he'd sit on a milk crate in front of the store and re-fight his battles.

As time passes, there are fewer of us that remember the men that fought in WW2. There's nothing to be done about it, but lets all hope a few memories are retained in libraries, etc.

What sort of aircraft did he fly Mikey?

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My father's plane was shot down in the South Pacific and he was killed when I was seven weeks old. In 2009 the wreckage was discovered. After I submitted DNA samples for verification, my family and I were flown to attend the services at Arlington. A military funeral at Arlington is a most impressive thing to see. The United States can be a very fine country, to keep looking for and finding remains that were over 60 years old.

Now, though I never knew my father I did grow up during a time when lots of WW2 vets were around. Some, like one of my uncles, were damaged beyond repair. It wasn't just the wounds he suffered in North Africa, something happened to his mind. That uncle drank until he got liver troubles from alcohol and died in a VA hospital in 1965. It was an unpleasant life followed by a miserable death.

Another uncle flew 100 missions over Europe, came home, used his G.I. Bill benefits to get an engineering degree, founded a steel firm, got rich and became what could be a poster boy for The Greatest Generation.

Another vet in the neighborhood when I was a kid could tell you every type of tank the Germans and Americans used, how many were destroyed in what battles and so forth. But that was all he could do. The owner of the neighborhood convenience store let him sweep sometimes to pay for his cigarettes. The rest of the time he'd sit on a milk crate in front of the store and re-fight his battles.

As time passes, there are fewer of us that remember the men that fought in WW2. There's nothing to be done about it, but lets all hope a few memories are retained in libraries, etc.

thx, very interesting. I hope your uncle included you in his will.

The uncle that died in the VA hospital did! I got a little Derringer pistol and an elephant's tooth he picked up somewhere in Africa. My cousin got his Viewnmaster toy with pictures of nekkid girls and some French playing cards showing same, items he picked up while recovering in England before getting shipped back to stateside hospitals. That was the sum total of that uncle's possessions, other than some worn out clothes.

The rich uncle, my father's brother, left me nothing. He had his own kids and grandkids to bequeath farms, condos, boats and the like.

shucks. Sounds about like what I will inherit.
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B-24 "Liberator", a bomber. There was a crew of seven aboard. All seven men had one or more family members at the service in Arlington. It was nice meeting and spending some time with the other families.

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B-24 "Liberator", a bomber. There was a crew of seven aboard. All seven men had one or more family members at the service in Arlington. It was nice meeting and spending some time with the other families.

Where was his base? (If you don't mine me asking.)

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B-24 "Liberator", a bomber. There was a crew of seven aboard. All seven men had one or more family members at the service in Arlington. It was nice meeting and spending some time with the other families.

Where was his base? (If you don't mine me asking.)

He was flying out of Port Moresby, New Guinea. The plane went down in a mountainous area near Kokoda Pass. They were on a mission to bomb Japanese forces on the other side of the Morgan-Stanley range.

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B-24 "Liberator", a bomber. There was a crew of seven aboard. All seven men had one or more family members at the service in Arlington. It was nice meeting and spending some time with the other families.

Where was his base? (If you don't mine me asking.)

He was flying out of Port Moresby, New Guinea. The plane went down in a mountainous area near Kokoda Pass. They were on a mission to bomb Japanese forces on the other side of the Morgan-Stanley range.

Wow.

I've read quite a bit about that campaign, so I understand the proposition of doing what he did. I often imagine what combat flying in the Pacific was like. Long distances over either ocean or jungle. That took a lot of bravery.

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B-24 "Liberator", a bomber. There was a crew of seven aboard. All seven men had one or more family members at the service in Arlington. It was nice meeting and spending some time with the other families.

Where was his base? (If you don't mine me asking.)

He was flying out of Port Moresby, New Guinea. The plane went down in a mountainous area near Kokoda Pass. They were on a mission to bomb Japanese forces on the other side of the Morgan-Stanley range.

Wow.

I've read quite a bit about that campaign, so I understand the proposition of doing what he did. I often imagine what combat flying in the Pacific was like. Long distances over either ocean or jungle. That took a lot of bravery.

Long distances in an unpressurized cabin too, unless flying a B-29.

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