When I was a mail carrier, I worked in a retirement community. This was approximately 50 years after the end of WW2 and at the time the community was filled with war vets. I got to meet such a variety of guys that were involved in actions all over Europe and Asia. A P-38 Pilot, an A-6 Pilot, a guy that flew an unarmed little prop plane in Europe doing reconnaissance missions over enemy territory. He told me of one harrowing event when he had to fly through valleys and tree tops to evade a Messerschmidt, he said he still had nightmares from it. I met no less than three guys who were at Pearl Harbor during the attack, and an Italian man who was in their Navy, and a German man who was a tank crewman who’s tank was blown up deep inside Russia, he had severe shrapnel wounds and struggled to get back home, he nearly starved to death. No matter how busy I was with work, I always stopped to listen to these guys stories, I knew how short their time was and how important their history was. I wanted to hear it all. I met many more , too many to list here.
But my favorite story was this guy who was a sailor in the Pacific, the first ship he was stationed on was sunk by torpedoes, he was rescued and placed on another ship, it too was sunk by torpedoes! He was one of just a handful of men who survived. Then he was stationed on the USS Missouri until the end of the war, he said he was standing at an anti aircraft gun above the deck when Japan came aboard to sign the surrender, he said he looked right down on the whole thing! He was quite a guy.
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