I know there's a couple other threads including one about the poppy's and WWII in photos, but thought I'd make another one.
In WWI, there were approximately 18,591,701 deaths and and 21,228,813 military wounded.
In WWII, there were approximately 72,771,500 deaths. Canada, which lost about 45,300 brave soldiers, pales in comparison to the Soviet Union, which had over 10,000,000 military deaths, of which my great-grandfather was on of them.
Just think about all that for a second. In today's wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, when a soldier gets killed, each soldier's picture is shown and their story told in the paper. Not to downplay the significance of each of their deaths at all whatsoever, but the sheer number of casualties on a daily basis made that next to impossible during the Great Wars. Sometimes loved ones didn't find out about casualties weeks later, with their letters still coming in after the fact. Thousands upon thousands were getting killed in battle each and every day. It's simply astounding to think about all the young lives that were cut short during those wars. Now we have new veterans from Afghanistan and Iraq to also share their stories, but hopefully we never forget the sacrifices made during WWI and WWII for us today.
Lest we forget.
Last edited by Language; 11-11-2011 at 09:06 AM.
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It really is incomprehensible what these men went through. When he was alive my grandfather refused to talk about WWII and I only heard little bits and pieces from my father.
THis is the best tribute song I've heard - 1916 by Motorhead. I've included the lyrics below, even though they're very clear.
16 years old when I went to the war,
To fight for a land fit for heroes,
God on my side, and a gun in my hand,
Chasing my days down to zero,
And I marched and I fought and I bled and I died,
And I never did get any older,
But I knew at the time that a year in the line,
Is a long enough life for a soldier,
We all volunteered, and we wrote down our names,
And we added two years to our ages,
Eager for life and ahead of the game,
Ready for history's pages,
And we brawled and we fought and we whored 'til we stood,
Ten thousand shoulder to shoulder,
A thirst for the Hun, we were food for the gun,
And that's what you are when you're soldiers,
I heard my friend cry, and he sank to his knees,
Coughing blood as he screamed for his mother,
And I fell by his side, and that's how we died,
Clinging like kids to each other,
And I lay in the mud and the guts and the blood,
And I wept as his body grew colder,
And I called for my mother and she never came,
Though it wasn't my fault and I wasn't to blame,
The day not half over and ten thousand slain,
And now there's nobody remembers our names,
And that's how it is for a soldier.
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One of friends from England was telling about construction site he was on where they were digging and found a mass grave of dead soldiers from WWII. Apparently at one point, the bodies were coming in so fast that they couldn't keep up. It's hard to fathom when today, they have an individual ceremony for every dead soldier that comes home.
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"A pessimist thinks things can't get any worse. An optimist knows they can."
My grandfather was at Vimy Ridge as a 15 year old kid. They didn't find out he was a kid till he was there so they made him a streatcherbearer (sp).
The irony is a week later his ambulance gets hit and he was in a wheelchair for life.
He is long gone now and he didn't speak much of the war. I have his medals but the one thing I cherish is he has a formal sit down picture (like a hockey team photo) of his unit or group or whatever it is and there must be a couple of hundred men in the photo. He has an X over the ones who died and there are a lot of them.
The biggest thing for me is being 15 and going to war I couldn't imagine.
I realize how lucky I am being too old to go to war. I grew up with the fear of nuclear war but in my lifetime I have never lived with the fear of losing my country or way of life. When people say I wish I would win the lottery I always say "you know you already have"
Thanks Grandpa.
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Bu all accounts he went off to the war as an optimistic, intelligent young man with a bright future ahead of him, having started his family (2 daughters including my mom and a son).
He came back completely shattered - couldn't adjust to life away from the war...became an alcoholic and drank himself to death.
My other grandfather also was in the war but came back and adjusted well - but he would rarely if ever talk about it. In fact - I recall only one time when he and I were playing crib - that suddenly he started to talk about it. It is the only time he ever mentioned anything about the war to me.
I found it very interesting listening to these 10 veterans tell their stories. This is part of the "The Memory Project" where veterans share stories about their incredible experiences during the Second World War and Korean War.
And although this is almost ten years old, I think it is always a good read, especially around Rememberance Day when we are remembering Canada's contributions to peace in the world. It was written by Kevin Myers of the Telegraph and is his "Salute to a Brave and Modest Nation".
Three of my four grandparents served during the war, but none were in combat units.
My father's father was from Quebec and dropped out of university to sign up with the RCAF. He volunteered for aircrew duty but failed the eye exam, so he was instead trained as a meteorologist. He served at a Commonwealth Air Training Plan facility where he became close friends with several of the pilot instructors. They would often take him for rides in Harvards and Tiger Moths.
My mother's father was a British citizen. He volunteered with the RAF, but he had a master's degree from Cambridge, so the brass didn't want to waste his education. He was therefore not assigned to aircrew duty but was instead trained as an intelligence analyst. He served in London during the Blitz where he often had to ride his bicycle to his HQ during Luftwaffe air raid; on one occasion he became the luckiest survivor of the war when a stick of bombs fell with one just ahead of him and one just behind. He was later deployed to the Mediterranean Theatre where he was stationed in North Africa and Italy.
My mother's mother (also a British citizen) joined the WAAF and served as a wireless operator at an RAF Bomber Command airfield. Her saddest story from the war was telling us how her fellow Waafs would always count the number of bombers returning from a raid early in the morning, and it rarely matched the number that had departed the night before.
My great uncle enlisted with the Canadian army and was trained as an anti-tank infantryman. His unit was one of the first to hit the shore at Juno Beach on D-Day. He made it home alive an uninjured, but he NEVER spoke about his experiences in combat for the rest of his life. If anyone asked him questions about the war, he would only talk about the fun he had with his buddies in England before being sent to France.
My grandfather was at Vimy Ridge as a 15 year old kid. They didn't find out he was a kid till he was there so they made him a streatcherbearer (sp).
The irony is a week later his ambulance gets hit and he was in a wheelchair for life.
He is long gone now and he didn't speak much of the war. I have his medals but the one thing I cherish is he has a formal sit down picture (like a hockey team photo) of his unit or group or whatever it is and there must be a couple of hundred men in the photo. He has an X over the ones who died and there are a lot of them.
The biggest thing for me is being 15 and going to war I couldn't imagine.
I realize how lucky I am being too old to go to war. I grew up with the fear of nuclear war but in my lifetime I have never lived with the fear of losing my country or way of life. When people say I wish I would win the lottery I always say "you know you already have"
Thanks Grandpa.
My grandfather on my dad's side was at Vimy as well. He died long before I was born and I don't think my dad knows much about his story. All the same I consider it a point of pride. I'll raise a Scotch for you, Doc.
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My grandparents on my father's side were not soldiers, but they were both civilian casualties during WW2 having been killed by communist partizans for refusing to join their side. In fact, many people from the town were rounded up and burned alive inside churches for not cooperating and pledging allegiance to Tito.
On my mother's side, many of the men were either soldiers for the Polish army or irregulars in the Polish resistance. I never got the whole story, but I know some of my grandfather's brothers were killed. My grandfather later developed a rare form of lung cancer that apparently affected a lot of veterans. People speculate that it was from the smoke they were subjected to on the battlefield.
This caused some family strife as the family on my father's side was murdered by one of the "allies", but the family on my mother's side fought with the allies. Needless to say, they did not support the marriage.
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"A pessimist thinks things can't get any worse. An optimist knows they can."
Location: A simple man leading a complicated life....
Exp:
During the funeral service of Navy Seal hero Jon Tumilson, his loyal dog Hawkeye lays down with a sigh near his casket.
Jon Tumilson, a Navy SEAL, was one of 30 Americans killed in Afghanistan on Aug. 6 when a rocket-propelled grenade took out a U.S. Chinook helicopter. He was mourned at a service in Rockford, Iowa, attended by 1,500 family members, friends--and Hawkeye, Tumilson's dog.
The Labrador retriever was such an important part of Tumilson's life that the friends and family of the San Diego resident called the dog his "son."
When Tumilson's friend Scott Nichols walked to the front of the room to speak, Hawkeye followed, Today.com reports. "As Nichols prepared to memorialize his friend, Hawkeye dutifully laid down near the casket".
Just got back from the museum, I'm always so happy to see the turnout of young and old, boys and girls, and the respect they show.
I don't have any cool war stories about my family or my relatives.
My granddad was in a lancaster crew running missions over Germany.
One of my uncles was decorated multiple times in Korea, was promoted from Private to Sergeant and then back to Private, and returned from Korea in handcuffs after he assaulted an officer who was harassing a girl.
My dad got through training and as far as Korea when he got drunk one night and let it slip that he was 16, he was promptly sent home.
I know that for all of our difficulties when I was young, that my dad was secretly extremely proud when I enlisted, and I got to see a bunch of different countries, and I came back an entirely different person then the jerk I was when I left.
But this day to me is one of extreme sadness, and pride when you think about the younger generations in multiple countries that went over and were willing to lay their lives down for what they thought was the right cause, and how many of those who did came it back were far older.
And how we remember those who didn't make it back and lay buried in foreign soil.
Its one of the rare days that even I shed some tears.
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Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!
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My Grandpa was in the Coast Guard during WW2. As far as I know he patroled the seas around Jamaica on the look out for U Boats attacking cargo ships and oil tankers. I wish I asked him more about his time served, but as a young kid you never think about it until it is too late. I find it hard to get any info off the internet either. If anyone knows any books on that part of the war it would be appreciated. I know it was an area that never saw alot of action, but there were quite a few U boats sunk in that area.
Anyway, a big thanks to all the men and women who have served to make our world a better place.
Lest We Forget
