WW2 Effects on Our Families and Lives?

Hello Everyone,

We all have been deeply effected by WW2's impact on our families, lifestyles, and communities ... on many levels of life, from the funny to the tragic and everything inbetween. I'm hoping that some of you will share stories and memories of these things in here. Some of you "were there" as soldiers and such. Some of you were too young, or not born yet, to have lived through those years, but you were told many stories by parents, aunts and uncles, other relatives, friends ... and so on. You remember those years, or lived with the aftereffects because of being born after the war, on how it changed your family and/or community, etc.

Lives and lifestyles BEFORE, DURING, and AFTER WW2 ...

I hope some of you will be interested in posting memories or stories in here because I think so many of us simply love to hear about them and like to learn more about "life back then".

I'm sure when one person posts, that another will be reminded of ..... a story to tell



Karmen

[Bob Potter]

It's not so much a family thing, but a friend thing.

I went to community schools for my twelve-and-a-half years of Delaware state required public education. As a result, there were a lot of kids that I got to know "for the duration." One fellow I did the entire "hitch" with, even being in the same homeroom throughout high school.

In our junior year we began to part company, over our differing perspectives on American involvement in the Vietnam war. My father was a WWII vet, a combat engineer in North Africa and Italy. I knew my friend's father was also a vet but I did not know what he did. We were, as Captain Aubrey says, "much of a muchness," enjoyd the same hobbies, liked history, did not like sports. The only real difference that I knew of was that my father's people came to American in the 1630's, while his father's father was a Russian or Lithuanian immigrant at the turn of the last century.

In college, I enrolled in ROTC, while he was present when the ROTC building on his campus was burned down.

It was not until I read his father's obituary that I understood why he and I had such divergent ideas about war and service. His father was a medic with the 29th Division on Omaha Beach on 6 June 1944. The stories we heard as kids were entirely different, so we reacted differently.

I saw him again about a month ago for the funeral services for his mother. I think there has been too much water under the bridge, although it pleased me to relate this to him and to tell him that in this he has become one of my teaching examples.

Bob Potter

[Keith Webb]

Some of you will have seen this story before, so apololgies for the repetition, but it may be of interest to others, and also demonstrates my family connection with Canada...

May 17th, 1943 is famous for being the night of the Dambuster raids by 617 Squadron, RAF, but another much smaller raid occured on the same night, carried out in Hampden aircraft by 415 "Swordfish" squadron, RCAF which was to have a far more personal effect on my family.

One of the Hampdens, L6055 GX-D, carrying a torpedo was shot down by the ships' anti-aircraft fire. The crew were killed, with only the body of the pilot being found, washed up on shore some considerable time after. That man was my uncle.



The effect on his family was dramatic. My grandfather forever hated Germans. Keith's older sister destroyed all photographs she could find of him. His younger sister (my mother) was 19 at the time and suffered long-term physical effects caused by grief. Even as I was growing up in the 1960s, it took a lot for her to even mention him.

I have a couple of pages on my site dedicated to his story, including an amazing piece of serendipity which led to a sort of closure for my mother several years ago.

[Crewman]

Hi,

Congratulations, very good idea for an interesting thread. I will write nothing about WWII from my own experience because I am 43 but I would be ready to write the books how much WWII still impresses a stamp on our life. I am observing for instance how much the nightmares of WWII still are alive in my parents' minds. Due to my profession I am working with WWII historians and veterans. You are unable to imagine how much old war emotions are still alive in these men, how much they hate their old enemies, how much they still try to rival against their Allied colleagues.

Look also at newly-elected Pope Benedict XVI. There are the people, also tabloid media, that would prefer to remember that Josef Ratzinger served during WWII in the nazi Hitlerjugend than he is wise and good man.

Best regards

C.

I certainly love how this thread is going so far, and it's only just begun.

BOB ... thank you so much for being the first to jump in here and start things rolling. I really appreciate the story you told us ... what an interesting, and kind of happy-sad little story about friendship bonds and how world events can interfere in it's closeness and all. Amazing insights ... too bad they tend to come so much later. Childhood bonds seem the most profound hey? (and have the happiest and craziest memories to them too )

KEITH ... WONDERFUL to see the photo of your Uncle! I'm sorry that the loss of your Uncle had such powerful impact ... you know, of course, how effected my own family was. It seems the more I learn, the more I want to learn more, about other relatives and how my total family was effected, in all the different ways. I haven't done much lately for many reasons, but I never "quit" and don't intend to!

... I haven't followed the link you gave yet ... but will shortly. I really want to see what may have brought a sort of closure for your Mom.

CREWMAN ... thanks ... I just had a little flash-brainstorm about "Gee ... I wanna hear this stuff from people in here )

I call the after-effects "the hangovers" of yesterdays The good and the bad ... we're all still "hungover" and that effects our views and behaviors ... and our hopes I guess.

I think about the lives of those at home during the war years too ... in my family's case, living in the country with farms and families to care for and tend to ... the women and girls, and young boys, must have worked their heinies off to take care of everything while their men and many women were off to war because life goes on and must be tended to. People have to eat and all. And worried constantly about their loved and "needed" ones.

And those off to war or serving ... being separated from family and all the comforts and meals of home and family (though I know some would probably have preferred going off to war than living with family LOL )

God ... there is STILL so much more to know, or that I'd like to know about "life back then" ...

There are SO many stories locked away in peoples memories ... good and bad ... about those years.

Keep them coming

Karmen

[Crewman]

Originally posted by Vets Dottir
There are SO many stories locked away in peoples memories ... good and bad ... about those years.

Yes, good and bad…

A word about those bad ones. My father was an eyewitness of the liquidation by the Germans of the Jewish Ghetto at Radom in Central Poland though "liquidation" is an euphemism from modern media that sounds like "removing". Hundreds of the Jews were executed then during their march through Radom streets. What am I writing about you may read here. Up to this time my father has one and the same nightmare – a view of execution done in his presence at the street. Especially one vision haunts his mind in the dreams -- the remains of the Jewish skulls and brains after shots in the heads.

My father belongs to this WWII generation that never will understand how it is possible that "The New York Times", for example, may call nazi concentration camps "the Polish concentration camps" instead of "German-operated concentration camps in Poland" and the same goes for all Jewish Ghettos in Poland.

C.

[Jon Skagfeld]

Well, here goes, dredging up childhood memories of life in war time Britain...

I was born in Luton in 1941, (very near Bletchley Park [Ultra, etc] and Leighton Buzzard...8 USAAF base.)

I remember hordes of troops exercising when we evacuated up to Glasgow. Seems like the streets were filled with soldiers. Rations were scarce. I recall that marzipan and a licorice stick was a great treat when it was available.

I remember my mother having food coupons.

I remember the pervasive smell of bunker oil, living near the Clydeside.

I remember the colour gray...no other colours, just gray...atmosphere, ships, buildings.

I remember wearing short pants, "breeks", 'cause there was no money to get long trousers.

I remember the Anderson shelter in our back yard.

I remember goods trains shunting troops and supplies along railway lines from Ibrox and Moss Park.

I remember my grannie "doing her messages", which meant daily shopping, trying to find food from shops with the shortest queues.

I remember watching Pathe movies at the "pictures" (cinema), showing how the Allied forces were doing so good.

We moved back down to London in 1944, figuring that all was well and that aerial threat was over.

I remember sitting in a shuttered window sill, playing with a seltzer bottle. A bomb, V1 or V2, blasted nearby. I was sucked out of the sill and landed in a nearby coal bin.

I remember awakening in Royal Victoria hospital, with the stench of ether fumes about me. Broken arm, head fractures (which to this day have affected my left eye vision).

I remember leaving Southampton aboard the SS Aquitania, bound for Pier 21, Halifax.

I remember.

Fellow MLUers...this is almost like a mental purge. Having written all of the above, the tears are streaming down my cheeks.

Pardon me.

Originally posted by Jon Skagfeld
Well, here goes, dredging up childhood memories of life in war time Britain...

I remember.

Fellow MLUers...this is almost like a mental purge. Having written all of the above, the tears are streaming down my cheeks.

Pardon me.

Jon ... your memories and feelings hit me right in the belly ... and of course I cried too, and had to leave this a bit ... and I for one know how very lucky I am to have met you here in this part of the world in this new century. I'm glad you got through all that.

I thank you for pouring out your memories ... and feelings. So powerful for their stark reality.

Damn Jon ... so very very powerful.

from Karmen (hugs too)

[wayne c. petrie]

Karmen:
Very interesting post!One though I think needed to be addressed.
I was born post war;'49.Heard many stories from my father,a Tpr.of the FGH.Mostly good time stories but a couple of statements he said to me still has an effect on me.The first, when I was a young teen, and the Maltise Cross was a fashion to wear.I came home with it on and my dad looked at it and said,"I used to kill people who wore that".I said it was Maltise and he said it looks the same as an Iron Cross, so I took it of and got rid of it.
The other,is when he told me of going into battle and bodies are lying in the way of his tanks path.He said he had to drive over them,not knowing whether they were alive or dead!That bothered him to no end.Bothers me Too.Not knowing.You had to do what is best in the overall.
My wife was born in Briton '41.She remembers being evacuated to a safe place during that time.The sound of the bombers still affect her.Where we live[St.Catharines,Ont.]there are fly-bys of the Lanchester Bomber and a Mitchel 25 and Harvard Trainers.My wife closes the windows to deaden the noise as it brings back unwanted memiorys.
My dad's cousion ,a vet of WW2,[Lincs & Winks], and Korea.[PPCLI],Drill Sgt.M.on Parliment Hill died of "Battle Fatique";a doctors diagonises,in the late '70's.He relived Korea almost every day!I witnessed an eposode during a weapons training exerzise where he was Showing how to dismantle and assemble an FNC1A1 in the dark.His demo took on an urgentecy and it sounded as if he was back in Korea!!Scary.
My neigbor is a Pole.He told me that he lived under Hitlerism,Stalinism and in concentration camps,his future wife also.He told me many stories.One being in the concentration camp and waking up in the morning.The person on his right had died as the one on his left!He thought,'Am I next!!!".He now celebrates "The day I landed on this glorious soil of Canada" over and above any other holiday.My wife and I are always welcomed to attend;been told we are his second familly;this otherwised, familly only ritual.We are honoured!
My children[some,I've only got six]] have listened to thier stories and have came away with a different point of view[better perseption?] and awed.
Karmen ,your post is great and has many potentuals.I could say a lot more ,but,I leave room for others.
Pardon my spelling,please.

Take care.

Wayne

[Crewman]

Well, maybe it is time to stop for the moment all nightmares of WWII.

I found very important influence of WWII upon my life however. This influence takes place thanks to ex-UNRRA*. Imagine that this influence takes place since 1945 and it is an important factor for all generations of my family including me. I writing about the greatest military invention ever. I am writing about the genius machine worth the Nobel Award. I am writing about it and it and it and it. Ladies and Gentlemen, yes I am writing about the most famous US war machine called P-38 Can Opener. I do have two pcs. of this genius device at my home. They come from my grandfather's home and they were delivered to Poland in 1945 by the UNRRA from the US Army stocks. Both my 60+ old P-38s are fully serviceable and they have never been sharpened. When I get irritated against all sophisticated hand- or electrically-powered modern can openers that are unable to open simple can -- what am I doing then? Yes, I take P-38 and then open every type of can without the smallest problem.

BTW, my grandfather had greater number of the US WWII militaria and today they are small part of my WWII militaria collection. For example the UNRRA-delivered US Army WWII sleeping bag today remains inside my US WWII M1928 Haversack you can see below.


© Crewman


Best regards

C.


*United Nations Relief Rehabilitation Administration

[Mark W. Tonner]

Hi Gregory;

I have at least 50 of these 'type' of can opener. When the Canadian Army had the 'IRP's (Individual Ration Pack), these were standard issue with them. The ration pack came in two parts, one part canned goods and the other part was condiments. In fact I myself still use one on occasion, they work better than all these new 'contraptions'

Cheers

[Crewman]

Did not I tell?

The best war machine ever built

Are there any other followers of the P-38 advantage?

How about the MLU-affiliated P-38 Fan Club?



Best

C.

[Jon Skagfeld]

P-38s

There was a large size and a small size. I have both pinned up on display in my museum.

We used to string the small one on our ID neck chain.

Mark: Remember the pre fried bacon in the IRPs?...it was to die for!

[Geoff Winnington-Ball (RIP)]

Originally posted by Jon Skagfeld
P-38s

There was a large size and a small size. I have both pinned up on display in my museum.

We used to string the small one on our ID neck chain.

Mark: Remember the pre fried bacon in the IRPs?...it was to die for!

I have a small one somewhere, but would love to get hold of one of the large originals!

In the meantime... rations? IRPs were a pain in the ass... the old, original IMPs are the best ever... cold ham omlette, yumm!!

Still nothing like fresh bully stew, though...

Originally posted by wayne c. petrie
Karmen:
Very interesting post!One though I think needed to be addressed.
I was born post war;'49.

My children[some,I've only got six]] have listened to thier stories and have came away with a different point of view[better perseption?] and awed.
Karmen ,your post is great and has many potentuals.I could say a lot more ,but,I leave room for others.
Pardon my spelling,please.

Take care.

Wayne

WAYNE,

Hi, yeah, I was born in 1954 (and I only have 2 children 6!!! That's a lot of mouths to feed ... and that's 8 more kids between yours and mine who are wiser about history through our stories... right on!)

As a kid, I don't recall hearing many stories at all about the war. Too painful for family to speak of and something most just wanted to forget. Everyone either lost someone or was close to someone they lost ... back home that was a big thing as it was in any fishing and or farming community that lost its menfolks to service or death when the homebase suffered. Community, especially small ones, lost the most I would think, as every hand was needed on the farm etc.

I DO remember TV ... it seemed there was always a war movie on tv ... or Hockey Night In Canada!!!! ARGH! I still can't stand the sound of an air-raid siren. Scares the crap out of me everytime I hear a sound like that. Was this just from hearing it on TV in airraid scenes? I don't know. It's deep though. I also get irritated when hockey is on TV To me, that means TV hogging, beer, and a bunch of noisy people sitting in front of the TV for hours and hours and hours ... yelling, hooting, waving fists, and serious swearing at the players !!! Gimmie a break eh?

The "main energy" that I remember of my parents generation, and grandparents generation for that matter, was seriousness, with a quiet perservering resignation for much, and an intolerance for foolishness I think, although zany senses of humour and ability to laugh at self and life existed too. But the seriousness was understandably so to them, not so understandably to their post-war kids, like me, who never heard the stoiries so therefore could never really understand why their parents were so "uptight" and all. We were born into the "after-effects" phase. It's interesting, but I wonder how many parent-child estrangements were born of this lack of understanding due to lack of knowledge of what had happened and how the war years had changed people and lifestyles ... ?

I guess war will always and forevermore steal "ideal parents" and replace them with "real parents" ... and kids have to learn what that really means. Learning the history helps ...

... this thread is amazing and am sure everyone reading it is busy remembering stuff they're forgotten, or thought they had, of "back then".

There must be a lot of happy or funny memories too ... I remmeber my Uncle Buddy (Frederick Smith) used to wear an Army Jacket all the time. His? I don't know.

Regards waryears .. I'll bet women and kids learned quickly how to do the jobs the menfolk had done until they went off to war. Bet they learned an appreciation for those men and their jobs too Hard work.

Coffee time ....

Karmen

Originally posted by Geoff Winnington-Ball

Still nothing like fresh bully stew, though...

Yeah? Well ... as I recall Master Sun-Jiferro-Ray, the last time you made Bully Stew was in my Winterpeg Bunker last September. Lazy buggar : When ya gonna make some again!!! Eh? I've even got a frying pan for you!

Ma

[Mark W. Tonner]

Originally posted by Jon Skagfeld
P-38s

We used to string the small one on our ID neck chain.

Mark: Remember the pre fried bacon in the IRPs?...it was to die for!

Jon;

I carried it on my ID disc chain in the field also, and YES!!!!, the bacon was to die for .....yum yum...now my mouth is watering....but no have IRPs anymore

What are: IRP's?

Ma wantsta know

[Mark W. Tonner]

Originally posted by Vets Dottir
What are: IRP's?

Ma wantsta know

Go back about seven posts on this thread and you'll find the answer, put your glasses on this time so you won't miss it AGAIN!!!!! ........ some mothers do have'em.....:

[Tony Smith]

My Mother's uncle was a gunner in the British Royal Artillery. She remembers him as great fun to be around and generous in the way that all young, single uncles are to their sister's kids. He was wounded in the fighting around Knightsbridge Box in Libya. The 25pdr was damaged in a German bombardment and several of the crew seriously injured. The others in the gun crew left him while they evacuated another wounded gunner, and when they returned to the gun position there was no sign of him. He was never listed as captured by the Germans. He has a grave site in Knightsbridge War Cemetary, even though his body was never found. He is still sorely missed by family.

On a brighter note, Dad was just a lad growing up in Battersea, London. He remembers watching the fighters leaving vapour trails as they dogfought over London and the fun of collecting brass cases that fell from the sky. One of his best "toys" from that period was a billy cart made with wheels from a Messerschmidt. I blame him for my habit of collecting old military rubbish. His sisters remember the day a V1 "Buzzbomb" landed two streets away and blew up a block of terrace houses. They now live in Adelaide and one of my cousins blames this often repeated story (over and over again like we've never heard it before!) for her current job, with British Aerospace as a Rocket Scientist (No s***! True!).

Originally posted by Crewman
Look also at newly-elected Pope Benedict XVI. There are the people, also tabloid media, that would prefer to remember that Josef Ratzinger served during WWII in the nazi Hitlerjugend than he is wise and good man.

Well, the media of course does little if any research and is frequently inventing stuff if it sells papers; we too have the picture of a young boy reported to be the now Pope Benedict XVI dressed as Hitlerjugend.

However, looking closely you see the Luftwaffe eagle on the uniform as all these youngsters were required without exception to man the flak guns (flakhelfer) after school to give the regular crews a break.

But, what effect did WWII have on me, well, June 5th 1946; my ol' chap was a serving REME major.

Doesn't take a degree in mathematics.

R.

[Bob Potter]

God love you lot! I have a P-38 chained (with a piece of dog-tag chain to the grey Pattern 37 small pack I used to take my lunch to school in (up to last year when y'all convinced me that using a certfiable military antique was not such a good idea). I am a Vietnam-era vet (a fancy way of saying that Uncle Sam was getting me ready to go when Nixon pulled our guys out) so I did field problems with the thing. My faculty colleagues are amused by it -- and even borrow it on occasion.

I'm going back to using that bag, dammit. Somebody tried to swipe my cureent bag becasue it looks like evrybody else's.

Hey, can I buy Canadian army rations anywhere?

Bob Potter

[Jacek]

Back to the subject matter, if you allow.

My Father´s family were well-to-do farmers in western Poland: what was later called "Warthegau". As there were some Germans in the family, they were asked to sign Volksliste - a kind of declaration that they belonged to the German nation. They refused.
In 1940 or ´41 a German truck arrived and the constable gave them 30 minutes to pack their belongings.
At the railway station, they had their skulls measured and were found to be "Aryan" and sent to Bayern, to some wealthy landowner to work. The rest was sent to "rump-Poland, or Generalgouvernement".

The children were sent to German school, all family got German food rations. Soon, the authorities aked them to sign the List again. Twice again they refused. WHAT? It was way below their dignity: their property taken away; sent to work as simple agricultural workers against their will. Nope!

Some of the neighbors did sign. Soon, the men were sent to Ostfront and just a little minority survived.

My family, incl. my 11 ys old Father had to work in the fields. No more schools or German rations: just bad food and a big letter "P" on their garments.

In 1945, out of nothing, a squad of Americans arrived. My Father remembers: nice guys, distributed chocolate, white bread and "Camels" in liberal amounts. Soon, a Polish high school was opened in the area and my Father and his brother became schoolboys (they had attended clandestine primary school courses during the war).

American authorities proposed the family to emigrate to the USA instead of returning to the Soviet-infested Poland, but they refused too. In 1946 they returned to their home: most of the buildings were in ruins. A man who was their hired worker was now the 1st secretary of the Party in the area. As they had treated him well, he was helpful in the new situation.

Everybody survived. The only lasting consequences of the war were (apart from the new System), my Father´s low height, as he couldn´t eat any proteins during puberty and also got a heart valve disease: he has an artificial valve operated in, and is living and still working (75 ys old).

[Jacek]

If there is someone who´s not fallen asleep, here´s the story of my Mother´s family:

My maternal Grandfather was a director in one of Warsaw´s banks. Grandma didn´t work, of course.
The occupation itself was uneventful. My Grandfather had unsuccessfully tried to find his unit in September ´39. Then, he resumed work in the bank. Shortly before the Warsaw Uprising, the family moved to the sommerhouse, as theirapartment was right in the center of Warsaw and my Grandpa was by then too old to fight.
Lots of cousins and friends moved into the house too.

From time to time, the Germans attempted to catch my Grandfather and send him to work in Germany: he managed to hide somewhere every time.

After the Soviets came, it turned out that the house where they had lived was destroyed, as most of Warsaw.

Only in 1947 the bank which resumed its activities and managed to find an apartment in Warsaw, where the Family moved in. My Grandpa was not a diector anymore, but as a good specialist worked on in the bank.
My Mother was a little child at that time and remembers nothing. I have never met my Grandfather: he died in 1962, 80 ys old.

It is astounding that one could survive the whole occupation and two wars without loss of close relatives. But again: had anybody died, I would not have been here to tell about it.

Hello Jacek,

No, I for one, haven't fallen asleep, have just fallen behind in keeping track and up with threads in here and other places.

Thank you for sharing some of your family history ... I'm glad that your family survived (but certainly not unscathed)

I used to live with a man, many many years ago, who was actually born in a concentration camp. I don't recall which one. He was a German-Jew. His mother died in the concentration camp, if I remember correctly, I don't know the details, as we didn't talk about that stuff. Too busy drinking Remy Martin, making jewelry (goldsmithing) and listening to music like opera, classical, and Linda Rondstadt

Karmen

[Ponysoldier]

I was born first child of one of these veterans. Even as
a young child I knew something was not quite right.
But my father never spoke of any thing.Growing up
in the military many of us grew up with family that
in one way or the other had gone thru the conflict.
Many years later only after I joined the military I began
to see and think what my father had gone thru.
After my fathers passing my siblings and I, began
a search for missing orders that my father never had
only then could we understand the effect that the
war had on my father and us. He had been part
of the 503rd PIR and had been dropped in to N.Africa,
then into Siciliy and Italy,Because he was of german
extraction and spoke fluent german and french, He was
removed and dropped behind the lines and operated
with a guy named Titio.My father was a combat medic
so he could not carry a weapon.His job at that point
was to recover Allied Aircrew patch them up and start them
on their way home. We his children now understand
why he was so distant, his grandchildren understand that
war,and its effects than their peers will ever know.
As a quick P.S. to this we found much of this out
because my father wrote home thru family in Canada
he wrote this way because the mail was not censored.
and he could write of the horrors that he had seen.
These letters have just recently surfaced,truly a horror
story.
Patrick

[Bob Potter]

You have a veritable archival treasure trove in your possession, and the story begs to be recorded and preserved. At the very least, should no one in your family express an interest in these letters and materials, may I suggest that you make sure they go to the Military History Institute at Carlisle Barracks, PA. Contact Richard Sommers for details of donation.

"Ponysoldier, who will you send against me now?" Sorry, could not resist even this line belongs on another thread. Kudos who can identify the movie and the speaker.

Bob Potter

[Ponysoldier]

Bob
Im working on my degree in history,yes all these letters
and the other things he brought back with him, are
of very important to us,and to history. We are working
now on getting this published.
But the story is not over yet,I guess one war was not
enough for him as he served in the Korean conflict
as well as RVN, Mind you he lived a full life and died
at the age of 56,one day after holding his first grand-child
my oldest daughter.
Patrick

Originally posted by Ponysoldier
Bob
Im working on my degree in history,yes all these letters
and the other things he brought back with him, are
of very important to us,and to history. We are working
now on getting this published.
But the story is not over yet,I guess one war was not
enough for him as he served in the Korean conflict
as well as RVN, Mind you he lived a full life and died
at the age of 56,one day after holding his first grand-child
my oldest daughter.
Patrick

Tansi Pat,

It's totally awesome to know that you have so much of your Dad's history and are preserving it ... I agree with Bob Potter that you really do have "a veritable archival treasure trove in your possession" ... of which you Military folks understand much more deeply than I ever could.

You've a father that you can certainly be proud of , Ekosi ... you must miss him so much

PS: It's great to see you jumping into MLU Community and posting more!

Karmen

[Keith Webb]

My Father in law, Peter Wright was 18 in 1944 and went into the army, winding up in the pacific islands in "small boats" trained as a commando his specialty was picking up our agents who had been dropped off behind enemy lines to create mayhem.

At the end of the war, on I think Morotai one of his jobs was the destruction of lend lease equipment, namely tank transporters which they drove over a cliff in a game of dare, the idea being to drive the transporter flat out at the cliff's edge, jumping out at the last possible minute into a jeep running alongside.

Shortly after the end of the war while waiting to be repatriated, his barge was accidentally rammed by a US vessel which resulted in a broken back and an extended period of recovery in the Heidelberg repat in Melbourne.

The upside of all this is he met and married one of the nurses and together they produced my wife.

He has quite a few stories, and I'm going to record them for posterity.