War Stories

[1stUkrainianFront]

I had dinner last night with my neighbor here in Kiev. After a while the conversation drifted to family history and she told one of her grandfather's war stories.

The grandfather served as a cook in the Red Army and had three field kitchens blown up in various ways. She told the story of how the third kitchen was lost.

One day in the summer of 1944, her grandfather is marching along a dirt road somewhere in Poland. Four horses are pulling the field kitchen up a hill. It's hot and dusty and the horses' tongues are hanging out in the heat. The kitchen crew is helping to push the wagon over the ruts. Her grandfather's got his helmet on, PPSh slung on his back, and the battalion soup ladle, recently polished, is tucked into his belt.

Suddenly a Tiger tank trundles onto the crest of the hill and levels its cannon at them, point-blank. "Run!" the grandfather shouts and the cooks scatter in all directions. He makes it about ten meters away when the Tiger fires. Boom, the blast hits. The grandfather is knocked down, but the shockwave plucks the gleaming soup ladle out of his belt and he watches it soar lazily halfway across the field.

The Tiger disappears.

The kitchen crew gather back together, dusting themselves off. Nobody is hurt. But of the kitchen and the horses, there's nothing left.

[eichenbaum]

Thanks for this relaxing intermezzo!!! Really enjoyed it. I reminds me of my great grand father who served as a Chef Cook in the Dutch Army. Lucky he didn't had to serve at any front since The Netherlands didn't took part in the 1st World War. Probably I cound't enjoy your story right now if he did

[LongLeftFlank]

I'm amazed that Ilya Ehrenburg didn't broadcast an agitprop version of this story featuring the Stakhanovite field kitchen heroically ramming the "Tiger", coating all its optics with borscht and jamming the tracks with turnip rinds...

P.S. When I played SL as a teenager, my kid brother would occasionally participate in the game with a single Brumbaer with which he'd basically attempt to reduce as many unoccupied buildings to rubble/fire as possible while the combat swirled around him (inasmuch as a game that allowed about one scenario turn to transpire in a single afternoon play session might be said to "swirl"... In fact, the outcome of most scenarios was resolved by our cats trashing the board. Vae victis).

[Abbott]

I'm amazed that Ilya Ehrenburg didn't broadcast an agitprop version of this story featuring the Stakhanovite field kitchen heroically ramming the "Tiger", coating all its optics with borscht and jamming the tracks with turnip rinds.

LOL.

[Panzer76]

Was prob a PzIV, dotcha think?

Anyways, good to hear from some rear echlon people. Seems many boasts about being soldiers in the war, when they served as cooks, clercks, etc. Though, seems the cooks in the Red Army had a hard time

[John D Salt]

Originally posted by 1stUkrainianFront:

I had dinner last night with my neighbor here in Kiev. After a while the conversation drifted to family history and she told one of her grandfather's war stories.

The grandfather served as a cook in the Red Army and had three field kitchens blown up in various ways. She told the story of how the third kitchen was lost.

One day in the summer of 1944, her grandfather is marching along a dirt road somewhere in Poland. Four horses are pulling the field kitchen up a hill. It's hot and dusty and the horses' tongues are hanging out in the heat. The kitchen crew is helping to push the wagon over the ruts. Her grandfather's got his helmet on, PPSh slung on his back, and the battalion soup ladle, recently polished, is tucked into his belt.

Suddenly a Tiger tank trundles onto the crest of the hill and levels its cannon at them, point-blank. "Run!" the grandfather shouts and the cooks scatter in all directions. He makes it about ten meters away when the Tiger fires. Boom, the blast hits. The grandfather is knocked down, but the shockwave plucks the gleaming soup ladle out of his belt and he watches it soar lazily halfway across the field.

The Tiger disappears.

The kitchen crew gather back together, dusting themselves off. Nobody is hurt. But of the kitchen and the horses, there's nothing left.

But did they recover the battalion soup ladle?

I don't know what the RKKA equivalent of "G1098 equipment" is, but I feel sure such an important item as the battalion ladle would qualify for it.

All the best,

John.

[Gpig]

Double post

[ June 24, 2005, 06:12 PM: Message edited by: Gpig ]

[Gpig]

Ahhh . . . there we go.

[Brent Pollock]

hey - I see G'pa's PPSH, but where's the soup ladle

[Gpig]

Oops.

[Abbott]

Well-done Gpig!

I was thinking the same thing Panzer76 or a Stug. Now the AK model soup ladle would require no polish, it could be buried then dug up or run over by a Tiger tank picked up and still serve stew! But the M 16 variant ladle would require many hours a day of polishing. I wonder, which ladle the poor sod, was caring for?

[Other Means]

"Doodle"? Man that's brilliant.

[1stUkrainianFront]

Gpig --

Hey, that's fantastic. Thanks!

Cheers

[Gpig]

thanks.

Yeah, after reading your excellent story I was left with this impression of what those poor horses must have been thinking when they looked up at that Tiger.

Like, "I wonder if it's too late to put in for a transfer . . .?"

Gpig

[Earl Grey]

I don´t know much about hwat my grnaddad did in WW2, apart from he was a cook, too. At first, at least. It seems, thopugh, he got transferred to a front-line combat unit as he was one of the last soldiers to get captured. He told me a little about it a few years ago...

He and a few comrades tried to avoid being captured and hid in the woods - until they had no food and ammunition left. All the time they were being searched but they were infamous for repulsing every attempt. When they were questioned after their surrender and asked if they had killed any Russina soldiers my granddad said. "We would have, but couldn´t - they were so far away our rifles didn´t reach them because they dared not to get in our range..." - Got him problems afterwards. But it was brave.

I think being a cook got boring for him after all and he did see sctual combat. But I´d have to ask him again...

[Panzer76]

My grandad was in the resistances after the army surrendered. One day the germans captured him, and sent him to a KZ. He survived, but he never talked about it. We could only see the scars on his body.

[annihilate_this_week]

My grand dad was in the Red Army. He was an officer (captain) of the communications arm - radio. I don't know if he was in any serious firefights but he was decorated for correctly predictiong German army position shifts prior to Kursk based on radio signatures or something like that. He made it all the way to Berlin, we have a picture of him and other officers standing on the Reihstag steps.

After the war he remained in the army, and retired a colonel. However neither my father nor me pursued a military carrer.

My great-grand father was in the Russian Civil war (on the Red side). He was in the cavalry and had a scar on his leg from a saber blow. He was not a career miliatry man though.

[1stUkrainianFront]

Gpig -- Not my story, it belongs to Elena Pivovarskaya. I just retold it because I figured people on the Forum would appreciate it.

Most of the stories you hear out here are so unbearably sad, over and over. This one had such a great dash of humor that I couldn't resist posting it.

Thanks again for your drawing, I'll share it with Elena and her kids and I'm sure they'll get a kick out of it. If you don't mind I'll swap out the horse's thoughts with something like "Oh no, here we go again" because they won't get the game reference. But they'll love your drawing.

John D. -- Yep, according to Elena, her grandfather did recover the soup ladle but it was slightly bent and besides he had to polish it all over again

[Other Means]

Originally posted by 1stUkrainianFront:

Thanks again for your drawing, I'll share it with Elena and her kids and I'm sure they'll get a kick out of it. If you don't mind I'll swap out the horse's thoughts with something like "Oh no, here we go again" because they won't get the game reference. But they'll love your drawing.

Caption Competition!

Wipe the thought bubble and go to the GF. Start a thread called "Caption Competition" and give the story, a link to this thread and the image. People will respond with witty¹ comments and you can use what you think she'll like best.

¹ For a given definition of wit.

[1stUkrainianFront]

Someone could start with "Dulce et decorum est..."?

[David I]

A Friend of mine's Father in Law, every one called him "Tata", was an old Polish gent. On occasion he would tell stories of the war years (usually after a few vodkas).

In 1939 at the age of 16 he was drafted into the Polish Army, given a helmet and onepiece coverall and was assigned to a AA battery where he humped AA shells for the crew. When the Polish Army collapsed his CO told him to take off his uniform and go home. He was headed home when he met his family coming the other way as they fled the Soviets. They ended up in a town where he worked in a factory that made AA Guns. There he worked (had many stories about working in a factory with German management - most were not pleasant)for most of the war.

In 1944 he volunteered to backpack ammunition into Warsaw during the Polish Home Army's Rising.

On his second trip he was captured by the Germans and figured that he was about to be shot. Only luck prevented him from being placed against the nearest tree, the Germans had just negotiated the surrender of the PHA and part of the terms were that the PHA would be treated as POW's.

After being transfered between a couple of camps he was sent to Germany as forced labor. Again good fortune played a hand and he got assigned

to a gas station in a small town. Rode out the war and was liberated by Canadians. They sent him down to some Polish outfit (1st Polish Armored?) and got shuffled off from one Polish unit to another and was finally shipped off to Canada with a few bucks in his pocket.

He migrated to the US and here he became a self-made millionaire, which he attributed to not being afraid of taking risks (after all what could be worse than what the Germans could have done to him - was the way he put it). Met a girl that he had known in Poland and married.

All in all he was a great guy to drink with and I enjoyed his stories throughly.

DavidI

[PLM]

One of my Grandpas was a mechanic and I believe the other was a truck driver. Only story I know of is once the truck driver one witnessed some German POWs get shot because they didnt have room in a truck for them. Dunno what date that was or much more.

[David I]

PLM,

Yep. War sucks. All of them. All the time.

DavidI

[dieseltaylor]

I have a neighbour who was in the Royal Marine commandos as was his father. He tells that at the D Day landings the RSM lead a section that slipped ashore early. They were going up the beach from a ravine when they were amnushed and told to drop the weapons. So an hour after landing they were in a truck going to Germany as POW's.

Anyway the RSM ends up at a camp run by the German Army and the CO says to him that he likes to run an easy-going camp but every so often the bastards from the Gestapo come down to check the camp. At that time the guards will be brutal and it will be nasty but only to impress the visitors. When he got back to the UK he was 28lbs heavier than when he invaded. : )

Anyway he thinks the Sten sucked and maintains he could not re-cock a PIAT by himself! When I get the time I will get more WW2 stuff from him.