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I met a T-34 driver, still alive and very talkative


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Over the weekend I was at a party for some friends at work. The husband's father was there, a very elderly old Syrian gentleman with a tilted shoulder and a number of facial scars.

It turned out he spoke excellent English and was quiet excited to find out I actually knew what a T-34 was!

His story was very interesting. From a Syrian leftist family he was swept up in the USSRs program of teaching third worlders engineering degrees and communism at the same time. He arrived for college in 1940. He started an intensive Russian language program and moved on to the first year of engineering school. Well the invasion came - but school kept on. Syria was a French colony, now under Vichy control and not a place for a leftist Arab with revolution on his mind.

As the war got closer, he and his classmates (third worlders all) were conscripted to dig anti-tank ditches - back breaking work in sub-zero temperatures.

By luck he knew how to drive and was drafted off the work line (yep he volunteered when asked if anyone knew how to drive). He had a pretty cushy job driving a pre-war Ford around with a Russian general. Sometime during the winter, they were caught in a shelling and the car destroyed, the general killed and he wounded in the legs.

He was stuck in a barn/hospital where two weeks later. Bandaged up and barely able to walk Russian police(?) entered the barn and stated that anyone who could leave the barn for immediate service WOULDN'T be shot - he got up but was upset that the other didn't get shot after all.

He ended up in the woods lost with a large group of other 'recruits', he lost the tips of fingers and toes to frost bite.

Finally they were gathered up, frozen and taken to a training area where, with about two minutes warning were placed into a crew and presented with a tank - which they preceded to drive around a lot. He stated with pride that he was one of the few new drivers NOT to rip out the transmission. After a week of training he was sent into combat somewhere to the south east of Moscow. His crew had the difficulty that all of them were non-native Russian speakers - so it got tough at times.

After several severe shelling, shooting etc (he never could tell what was going on). His tank was hit and they bailed out. They crawled under MG fire for hours and finally got back where strangely they were sent to an infantry unit and for six months did nothing but guard a building which no one could figure out why it was important. Fortunately at that time he learned how to shoot a rifle etc.

Sometime in the summer of 42 a draft of 'driver mechanics' was called for and he was sent to another unit where he was again placed into a T-34 which he drove for some three months - often in fights - in one a round entered the turret, killed the gunner, exited the turret and knocked out their partner tank.

They bailed out but later that night re-entered and drove off with the tank.

The next day they were attacked again and took a series of hits the last caused the tank to 'brew up' giving him bad burns on his legs. A few minutes later a bullet hit him in the shoulder.

It took him nearly a year to regain any use of his shoulder and he spent the rest of the war as a mechanic/clerk in Odessa. In the closing days of the war he went forward with a tank recovery unit and ended up somewhere near Austria. At this point he'd had quiet enough of Russia, the Russians and the war. He deserted and says he walked from the Austrian border to Paris.

And what does a French/Russian/English/Arabic speaking Syrian do in Paris? Work as a waiter of course. He spent some 40 years at the "Tour de la Argent", 5 star restaurant making it to head waiter.

He has never returned to Syria

Comments on a T-34

Cramped, dirty and noisy - incredibly cold during winter and horribly hot during the summer.

He never saw a moving Axis soldier or tank (I suspect from the coke bottles he was wearing that he's very near sighted) but did see/hear German air strikes and artillery all the time.

Comments on rations

dog food, boring and not Halal at all

Comments on Russian officers

unprintable

Comments on commissars

dog urine

Comments on those Russians he worked with

Fine to scum

During his time in Uniform he was never ever paid.

The Gentlemen’s name was Eisa Adel Muhammed Hairib

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The police he was talking about was "NKVD". People's Commisariat of Internal Affairs. Thne it became KGB, now it is FSB. Basically then the NKVD was a political/ideological cleaner. Their job was to find traitors/cowards/capitalists and do the necessary work.

PS: Man, I wanted to read the 'unprintable' about the officers, any chance of my enlightenment? (I already suspect what words he was using smile.gif )

[ May 31, 2003, 08:35 AM: Message edited by: Kirill S. ]

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Nice story... b.t.w. I sawh a documentary about Kursk. And yes a Russian commander told exactly the same about mixed tank crews. He instructed his driver with ropes on his left a right arm for the direction he must drive.

[ May 31, 2003, 02:05 PM: Message edited by: Jaws ]

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Hans,

What a story. Most interesting and instructive. It certainly takes away some of the glamour that some may feel toward war.

Ken,

You are most correct about the whiners. Far, far too many people have no idea or appreciation of how good we have it and the incredibly large cost that it took for us (in USA & Europe) to have what we have.

Cheers, Richard smile.gif

[ May 31, 2003, 12:19 PM: Message edited by: PiggDogg ]

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That story reminds me:

My fish'n buddy had a distant relative (in-law, I think), who served in the Luftwaffe during WW2. My buds parents had been lent this pilot's personal manuscript of his experience on the Russian Front. My fish'n bud was able to pass it on (lend) to me.

Shot down flying a Ju-88 recon mission in autumn (Oct..?) of 1941. The other crew members are killed in the first few passes. The engines fail. As he is gliding back towards the west, he can hear the engine of the Soviet plane closing in. The Soviet pilot rams him. He barely remembers getting out (and parachute opening). On landing (with broken bones, etc.) he is beaten by the angry mob. Soviet soldiers rescue him from the mob (later meets Soviet pilot who rammed him).

Thrown into prison, the doctor who is sent to treat him is found to have studied under the pilots father at Med. school (in Austria..?), so the pilot gets first class treatment from the doctor.

Later... left for dead of starvation and disease, is thrown onto a pile of other dead prisoners, is found to be alive by chance.

Said he never would have made it without Russian doctors and average people who took great risk to help him survive by giving him an extra crust of bread or declaring him unfit for the work details etc.

It goes on and on... I think he got out in 1949.

I kick myself for not making a copy of this manuscript, they could make a movie out of it.

I gave it to my brother to read and when he was done he said he would, "Never, ever, whine about what food he had to eat that day".

Ken

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Good story. Thanks for that. I must admit that when I started to read I figured on a desert connection. I thought it would be about ex Soviet equipment used against the Israeli's. It does make you wonder what information and stories are going unrecorded and being lost to future historians.

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Originally posted by Silvio Manuel:

Thanks Hans, cool story.

It gets me excited to drive the T-34 located in Minnesota, I still look fwd, now knowing that it will be cramped and noisy!

A T-34 in Minnesota? Can I drive it too? Please?
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Kirill he used the Arabic words Zif in combination with Thakil and Haqeer plus a few others I hadn't heard before, in the way he said it I have a feeling they wouldn't be invited over for dinner!

Von Paulus: He now lives with his various children/grandchildren but he retired in 1990 and may still have a home in Petit Petrie(?) which is somewhere near Strassbourg, near a chateau. I'll see if I can find out.

Warmaker: Interestingly his children and grandchildren don't believe his story at all.

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Quinxi, do you mean is he alive? well he was about 3 days ago, his age (his account is 87) his son says 85.

If you meant where does he live now, he lives in Abu Dhabi - He seems to move around the middle east sponging off relatives!

One other story form him about that restuarant. In the 1970's His ability to speak Arabic had him handling a lot of the Saudis who flooded in. At one business meeting headed by a Frenchmen a group of Saudis headed by some Prince met with a bunch of Russian trade dorks from the embassy who were intent on selling heavy machinery to them. Our hero, happened to read some of the notes they were scribbling (in Russian, which he could read) - since he didn't particularly like Russians he passed on to the Prince in Arabic the intent of the messages - which was to stick the Saudis with some old machinery looted from Rumania instead of new stuff - the Prince took this all in with a smile. After the lunch he was give a modest tip. Two days later a lackey from the Saudi Embassy showed up, gave him the Prince's card, a hearty thanks and an envelope with 5,000 US dollars - good tip!

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Originally posted by V:

</font><blockquote>quote:</font><hr />Originally posted by Silvio Manuel:

Thanks Hans, cool story.

It gets me excited to drive the T-34 located in Minnesota, I still look fwd, now knowing that it will be cramped and noisy!

A T-34 in Minnesota? Can I drive it too? Please? </font>
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