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Family Ties to World War II: A New Poll


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My father was an RAF radio fitter in India and made a career of it after the war, serving until 1964, two uncles served in North Africa as RASC drivers and a third took part in the invasion of Iraq and spent the rest of the war there. A fourth uncle, who was too old for miltary service, was a firefighter in Hull during the Blitz. My mother spent the war working as a nurse, the first ward she worked on being for injured German airmen, whom she remembered as being cheerful and friendly young men - the experience put her off war for life.

[ January 10, 2004, 08:17 AM: Message edited by: Firefly ]

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My father was an RAF radio fitter in India and made a career of it after the war, serving until 1964, two uncles served in North Africa as RASC drivers and a third took part in the invasion of Iraq and spent the rest of the war there. A fourth uncle, who was too old for miltary service, was a firefighter in Hull during the Blitz. My mother spent the war working as a nurse, the first ward she worked on being for injured German airmen, whom she remembered as being cheerful and friendly young men - the experience put her off war for life.

[ January 10, 2004, 08:17 AM: Message edited by: Firefly ]

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My father was an RAF radio fitter in India and made a career of it after the war, serving until 1964, two uncles served in North Africa as RASC drivers and a third took part in the invasion of Iraq and spent the rest of the war there. A fourth uncle, who was too old for miltary service, was a firefighter in Hull during the Blitz. My mother spent the war working as a nurse, the first ward she worked on being for injured German airmen, whom she remembered as being cheerful and friendly young men - the experience put her off war for life.

[ January 10, 2004, 08:17 AM: Message edited by: Firefly ]

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My dad served in RAF, flying Swordfish, Gladiators and developing early aircraft carriers. Based at Aircraft and Armament Experimental Establishment Martlesham Heath test flying the then new Wellington bombers, almost killed when a flight he should have been on crashed but he'd swapped with a friend so he could go on a date instead.

He remembered being in a line being bawled at by an officer who was standing in the hanger doors when a bird shat upon the officer which obviously caused much merriment. The officer soon got transferred.

Posted abroad to Malaya with Dakotas - parachuting supplies into the Jungle and huge ants that stripped their base clean.

Finished the war as a Flight Seargent (refused promotion to officer) with Meteors.

Left the RAF to do cropspraying in Tiger Moths before setting up auto repair business. Died from prostrate cancer but wasn't afraid as he knew that he'd a full and lucky life.

Mother is Hungarian, as a kid she remembers towards the end of the war leaving Hungary and going to Austria with an AA section who took their families along presumably away from the Russian advance. Eventually returned to Hungary as she later came to UK as a refugee at 17 in 1957

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My dad served in RAF, flying Swordfish, Gladiators and developing early aircraft carriers. Based at Aircraft and Armament Experimental Establishment Martlesham Heath test flying the then new Wellington bombers, almost killed when a flight he should have been on crashed but he'd swapped with a friend so he could go on a date instead.

He remembered being in a line being bawled at by an officer who was standing in the hanger doors when a bird shat upon the officer which obviously caused much merriment. The officer soon got transferred.

Posted abroad to Malaya with Dakotas - parachuting supplies into the Jungle and huge ants that stripped their base clean.

Finished the war as a Flight Seargent (refused promotion to officer) with Meteors.

Left the RAF to do cropspraying in Tiger Moths before setting up auto repair business. Died from prostrate cancer but wasn't afraid as he knew that he'd a full and lucky life.

Mother is Hungarian, as a kid she remembers towards the end of the war leaving Hungary and going to Austria with an AA section who took their families along presumably away from the Russian advance. Eventually returned to Hungary as she later came to UK as a refugee at 17 in 1957

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My dad served in RAF, flying Swordfish, Gladiators and developing early aircraft carriers. Based at Aircraft and Armament Experimental Establishment Martlesham Heath test flying the then new Wellington bombers, almost killed when a flight he should have been on crashed but he'd swapped with a friend so he could go on a date instead.

He remembered being in a line being bawled at by an officer who was standing in the hanger doors when a bird shat upon the officer which obviously caused much merriment. The officer soon got transferred.

Posted abroad to Malaya with Dakotas - parachuting supplies into the Jungle and huge ants that stripped their base clean.

Finished the war as a Flight Seargent (refused promotion to officer) with Meteors.

Left the RAF to do cropspraying in Tiger Moths before setting up auto repair business. Died from prostrate cancer but wasn't afraid as he knew that he'd a full and lucky life.

Mother is Hungarian, as a kid she remembers towards the end of the war leaving Hungary and going to Austria with an AA section who took their families along presumably away from the Russian advance. Eventually returned to Hungary as she later came to UK as a refugee at 17 in 1957

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I had read TPatcher's previous post about his dad and decided to start this thread. Looks like I struck a cord with everyone! Let me give more details on my family.

My mom - as I said earlier, she is French and spent 4 years of her childhood under nazi occupation. She has said very little other than it was hard. She makes a distinction between the Heer and the SS. With the Heer - it was leave us alone, we'll leave you alone. With the SS, it was pure hell. She was going to school in a convent and she remembers very vividly when they (SS) took over the church and used it as a HQ. Everyone one was thrown out. When I met her brother a few years ago (my uncle) he related to me how he lost his good friend to the Gestapo in a midnite raid. He never saw his friend again.

My maternal grandfather, like a lot of able-bodied Frenchman, was forced into doing labor for the Germans. He was trucked to the Marseilles area to help build fortifications.

My paternal grandfather was drafted at age 31 and became an engineer with the 70th Infantry Division (US). He was a demolition specialist. Based on interviews I have conducted with other surviving engineers that knew him, he did participate in some minor skirmishes with the infantry. He and a few engineers were erroniously awarded the Combat Infantry Badge. There's more to that but that is another story.

My step-grandfather, I recently found out, served with I/130 of the 33rd Infantry Division. I found this out through my uncle and dad. He never talked about it and would only say he spent 4 days trapped by the Japanese in the Philippines. I have since found out which battle he was refering to. What the Japanese did not do nature almost did. You can read an account of the battle here:

http://www.33rdinfantrydivision.org/history_Hill2.htm

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I had read TPatcher's previous post about his dad and decided to start this thread. Looks like I struck a cord with everyone! Let me give more details on my family.

My mom - as I said earlier, she is French and spent 4 years of her childhood under nazi occupation. She has said very little other than it was hard. She makes a distinction between the Heer and the SS. With the Heer - it was leave us alone, we'll leave you alone. With the SS, it was pure hell. She was going to school in a convent and she remembers very vividly when they (SS) took over the church and used it as a HQ. Everyone one was thrown out. When I met her brother a few years ago (my uncle) he related to me how he lost his good friend to the Gestapo in a midnite raid. He never saw his friend again.

My maternal grandfather, like a lot of able-bodied Frenchman, was forced into doing labor for the Germans. He was trucked to the Marseilles area to help build fortifications.

My paternal grandfather was drafted at age 31 and became an engineer with the 70th Infantry Division (US). He was a demolition specialist. Based on interviews I have conducted with other surviving engineers that knew him, he did participate in some minor skirmishes with the infantry. He and a few engineers were erroniously awarded the Combat Infantry Badge. There's more to that but that is another story.

My step-grandfather, I recently found out, served with I/130 of the 33rd Infantry Division. I found this out through my uncle and dad. He never talked about it and would only say he spent 4 days trapped by the Japanese in the Philippines. I have since found out which battle he was refering to. What the Japanese did not do nature almost did. You can read an account of the battle here:

http://www.33rdinfantrydivision.org/history_Hill2.htm

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I had read TPatcher's previous post about his dad and decided to start this thread. Looks like I struck a cord with everyone! Let me give more details on my family.

My mom - as I said earlier, she is French and spent 4 years of her childhood under nazi occupation. She has said very little other than it was hard. She makes a distinction between the Heer and the SS. With the Heer - it was leave us alone, we'll leave you alone. With the SS, it was pure hell. She was going to school in a convent and she remembers very vividly when they (SS) took over the church and used it as a HQ. Everyone one was thrown out. When I met her brother a few years ago (my uncle) he related to me how he lost his good friend to the Gestapo in a midnite raid. He never saw his friend again.

My maternal grandfather, like a lot of able-bodied Frenchman, was forced into doing labor for the Germans. He was trucked to the Marseilles area to help build fortifications.

My paternal grandfather was drafted at age 31 and became an engineer with the 70th Infantry Division (US). He was a demolition specialist. Based on interviews I have conducted with other surviving engineers that knew him, he did participate in some minor skirmishes with the infantry. He and a few engineers were erroniously awarded the Combat Infantry Badge. There's more to that but that is another story.

My step-grandfather, I recently found out, served with I/130 of the 33rd Infantry Division. I found this out through my uncle and dad. He never talked about it and would only say he spent 4 days trapped by the Japanese in the Philippines. I have since found out which battle he was refering to. What the Japanese did not do nature almost did. You can read an account of the battle here:

http://www.33rdinfantrydivision.org/history_Hill2.htm

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Both my grandfathers served in the Winter and Continuation Wars here in Finland.

The one from my moms side was a driver for in a Vickers tank(Tank Brigade, 5th Company, 1st platoon lead tank), he was seriously injured on the 19th of June, 1944, when his tank was the last to leave in a Russian offensive at Pappilanniemi near Vyborg. He was shot by one of our own 75mm AT-guns who thought there were no more Finns coming through. The gunner in his tank was killed when the projectile shot cleanly through both walls of the tank. They had expended all their ammunition so the tank did not explode when hit. Later when his injuries had healed he received training for the PzIV but did not see any action in it before the war ended.

My grandfather on my fathers side served as a doctor in Borderjaegerbattalion 5 (Rajajääkäripataljoona 5). He was a long time on the front and wrote a book about it together with 3 other soldiers who fought for the unit(Rajajääkäripataljoona 5, ISBN:952-90-2777-X). Great read, highly recommend it to fellows Finns, I dont think it has been translated.

I can only say that I am extremely proud to be of the same family as my grandfathers who really are extraordinary men.

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Both my grandfathers served in the Winter and Continuation Wars here in Finland.

The one from my moms side was a driver for in a Vickers tank(Tank Brigade, 5th Company, 1st platoon lead tank), he was seriously injured on the 19th of June, 1944, when his tank was the last to leave in a Russian offensive at Pappilanniemi near Vyborg. He was shot by one of our own 75mm AT-guns who thought there were no more Finns coming through. The gunner in his tank was killed when the projectile shot cleanly through both walls of the tank. They had expended all their ammunition so the tank did not explode when hit. Later when his injuries had healed he received training for the PzIV but did not see any action in it before the war ended.

My grandfather on my fathers side served as a doctor in Borderjaegerbattalion 5 (Rajajääkäripataljoona 5). He was a long time on the front and wrote a book about it together with 3 other soldiers who fought for the unit(Rajajääkäripataljoona 5, ISBN:952-90-2777-X). Great read, highly recommend it to fellows Finns, I dont think it has been translated.

I can only say that I am extremely proud to be of the same family as my grandfathers who really are extraordinary men.

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Both my grandfathers served in the Winter and Continuation Wars here in Finland.

The one from my moms side was a driver for in a Vickers tank(Tank Brigade, 5th Company, 1st platoon lead tank), he was seriously injured on the 19th of June, 1944, when his tank was the last to leave in a Russian offensive at Pappilanniemi near Vyborg. He was shot by one of our own 75mm AT-guns who thought there were no more Finns coming through. The gunner in his tank was killed when the projectile shot cleanly through both walls of the tank. They had expended all their ammunition so the tank did not explode when hit. Later when his injuries had healed he received training for the PzIV but did not see any action in it before the war ended.

My grandfather on my fathers side served as a doctor in Borderjaegerbattalion 5 (Rajajääkäripataljoona 5). He was a long time on the front and wrote a book about it together with 3 other soldiers who fought for the unit(Rajajääkäripataljoona 5, ISBN:952-90-2777-X). Great read, highly recommend it to fellows Finns, I dont think it has been translated.

I can only say that I am extremely proud to be of the same family as my grandfathers who really are extraordinary men.

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My whole family lived through the occupation of Holland. As a matter of fact both my mum and dad where born during the war years. Because both of them were too young they can’t remember much themselves but there are some stories.

My dad every once in a while tells that a few houses from where they lived German soldiers used to go to have a “night out with the girls’. Every now and then drunk soldiers would bounce on the door demanding to be let in. My grandfather had to explain them that they were in the wrong place which didn’t go well with some of them. Fortunately nothing serious happened.

Another thing he tells me is how his mother and father were scared of the English and American bombers that sometimes bombed the Amsterdam harbor. As they lived just north of Amsterdam they could see the AA guns tracers, and hear the bombs fall down. They were always scared that a plain would drop its bombs in the wrong spot.

The one thing that put its scars that even remain today is the fact that there wasn’t enough food and milk available for my dad when in his first few years. As a result of that he is told that he has “week bones” which results in a bad back and in more broken bones then I have ever seen in a person.

An uncle on my mother’s side who was about 10 when the war started in Holland in May 1940 recalls the first German planes passing on route to Schiphol. They lived (and still do, as do I) just south of the airport. He also said that it was fun for the boys his age because they could collect little peaces of shrapnel that fell down on the roofs. AA guns situated around Schiphol tried to take down the German planes and the remains of the shells fell on the surrounding country side.

There is also a story from him telling me that near the end of the war, when allied fighter planes shot everything that moved, turned a cart carrying vegetables and fruit to pieces on the road they lived on.

He also recalls that during the winter of 1944 and spring of 1945 people from the big city (Amsterdam) used to venture to the country to try and get food from farmers. Because my grandparents had their own garden and relatively enough to eat they gave people that came looking for food some of what they had.

Perhaps not too heroic but nevertheless a good look into life in wartime.

Mies

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My whole family lived through the occupation of Holland. As a matter of fact both my mum and dad where born during the war years. Because both of them were too young they can’t remember much themselves but there are some stories.

My dad every once in a while tells that a few houses from where they lived German soldiers used to go to have a “night out with the girls’. Every now and then drunk soldiers would bounce on the door demanding to be let in. My grandfather had to explain them that they were in the wrong place which didn’t go well with some of them. Fortunately nothing serious happened.

Another thing he tells me is how his mother and father were scared of the English and American bombers that sometimes bombed the Amsterdam harbor. As they lived just north of Amsterdam they could see the AA guns tracers, and hear the bombs fall down. They were always scared that a plain would drop its bombs in the wrong spot.

The one thing that put its scars that even remain today is the fact that there wasn’t enough food and milk available for my dad when in his first few years. As a result of that he is told that he has “week bones” which results in a bad back and in more broken bones then I have ever seen in a person.

An uncle on my mother’s side who was about 10 when the war started in Holland in May 1940 recalls the first German planes passing on route to Schiphol. They lived (and still do, as do I) just south of the airport. He also said that it was fun for the boys his age because they could collect little peaces of shrapnel that fell down on the roofs. AA guns situated around Schiphol tried to take down the German planes and the remains of the shells fell on the surrounding country side.

There is also a story from him telling me that near the end of the war, when allied fighter planes shot everything that moved, turned a cart carrying vegetables and fruit to pieces on the road they lived on.

He also recalls that during the winter of 1944 and spring of 1945 people from the big city (Amsterdam) used to venture to the country to try and get food from farmers. Because my grandparents had their own garden and relatively enough to eat they gave people that came looking for food some of what they had.

Perhaps not too heroic but nevertheless a good look into life in wartime.

Mies

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My whole family lived through the occupation of Holland. As a matter of fact both my mum and dad where born during the war years. Because both of them were too young they can’t remember much themselves but there are some stories.

My dad every once in a while tells that a few houses from where they lived German soldiers used to go to have a “night out with the girls’. Every now and then drunk soldiers would bounce on the door demanding to be let in. My grandfather had to explain them that they were in the wrong place which didn’t go well with some of them. Fortunately nothing serious happened.

Another thing he tells me is how his mother and father were scared of the English and American bombers that sometimes bombed the Amsterdam harbor. As they lived just north of Amsterdam they could see the AA guns tracers, and hear the bombs fall down. They were always scared that a plain would drop its bombs in the wrong spot.

The one thing that put its scars that even remain today is the fact that there wasn’t enough food and milk available for my dad when in his first few years. As a result of that he is told that he has “week bones” which results in a bad back and in more broken bones then I have ever seen in a person.

An uncle on my mother’s side who was about 10 when the war started in Holland in May 1940 recalls the first German planes passing on route to Schiphol. They lived (and still do, as do I) just south of the airport. He also said that it was fun for the boys his age because they could collect little peaces of shrapnel that fell down on the roofs. AA guns situated around Schiphol tried to take down the German planes and the remains of the shells fell on the surrounding country side.

There is also a story from him telling me that near the end of the war, when allied fighter planes shot everything that moved, turned a cart carrying vegetables and fruit to pieces on the road they lived on.

He also recalls that during the winter of 1944 and spring of 1945 people from the big city (Amsterdam) used to venture to the country to try and get food from farmers. Because my grandparents had their own garden and relatively enough to eat they gave people that came looking for food some of what they had.

Perhaps not too heroic but nevertheless a good look into life in wartime.

Mies

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From the paternal side, my grandfather and his brother (my great-uncle)were on submarines in the Pacific theatre. My great-uncle Vernon was on the USS Batfish, the most decorated US sub of the war. There is a book written about it, I'm not sure of the author, but there are many pictures from the sub with my great-uncle in them. He died when I was young but from the book I guess the Batfish actually shelled the Japanese mainland and then had to run for her life through minefields and a vicious Destroyer screen. I don't remember what sub he was on but my grandfather has told me his sub survived one of the most intense depth-chargings documented. Good thing they survived or I would not be here. Most stories I have from my dad are from Vietnam. Himself and two of his brothers were over there and all made it back safe.

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From the paternal side, my grandfather and his brother (my great-uncle)were on submarines in the Pacific theatre. My great-uncle Vernon was on the USS Batfish, the most decorated US sub of the war. There is a book written about it, I'm not sure of the author, but there are many pictures from the sub with my great-uncle in them. He died when I was young but from the book I guess the Batfish actually shelled the Japanese mainland and then had to run for her life through minefields and a vicious Destroyer screen. I don't remember what sub he was on but my grandfather has told me his sub survived one of the most intense depth-chargings documented. Good thing they survived or I would not be here. Most stories I have from my dad are from Vietnam. Himself and two of his brothers were over there and all made it back safe.

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From the paternal side, my grandfather and his brother (my great-uncle)were on submarines in the Pacific theatre. My great-uncle Vernon was on the USS Batfish, the most decorated US sub of the war. There is a book written about it, I'm not sure of the author, but there are many pictures from the sub with my great-uncle in them. He died when I was young but from the book I guess the Batfish actually shelled the Japanese mainland and then had to run for her life through minefields and a vicious Destroyer screen. I don't remember what sub he was on but my grandfather has told me his sub survived one of the most intense depth-chargings documented. Good thing they survived or I would not be here. Most stories I have from my dad are from Vietnam. Himself and two of his brothers were over there and all made it back safe.

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My sister's husband's father worked on a camera crew right after WW2. The camera crew that took pictures of the nuclear weapons detonated out in the proving ranges. Amazingly, he is still alive in his late 70's and in pretty good health, still runs a boat shop.

My father worked for the veterans administration for 40 years, retiring a few years back. They built the facility in Hines, IL which is massive (it has its own zip code) because one of the units that did the death march was raised out of Maywood. The survivors of the death march are the highest sort of people in the VA chain, when they talk people jump. Growing up I heard all of their horrible stories. One guy was a POW and ended up in Japan. When the war was over and they were liberated he went up to the officer that liberated them and borrowed his pistol. Then he walked around and executed all of the collaborators and gave him his gun back. These people went on to lead normal lives, get jobs, etc... and they complained very little. I always think of them when I watch Springer or something and all these people complain about how hard their lives are, while these death march survivors game home and went back to work with very little in the way of complaints.

My dad also said that more Vietnam vets killed themselves after the war than died in the war. At least the WW2 vets came home as heroes.

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My sister's husband's father worked on a camera crew right after WW2. The camera crew that took pictures of the nuclear weapons detonated out in the proving ranges. Amazingly, he is still alive in his late 70's and in pretty good health, still runs a boat shop.

My father worked for the veterans administration for 40 years, retiring a few years back. They built the facility in Hines, IL which is massive (it has its own zip code) because one of the units that did the death march was raised out of Maywood. The survivors of the death march are the highest sort of people in the VA chain, when they talk people jump. Growing up I heard all of their horrible stories. One guy was a POW and ended up in Japan. When the war was over and they were liberated he went up to the officer that liberated them and borrowed his pistol. Then he walked around and executed all of the collaborators and gave him his gun back. These people went on to lead normal lives, get jobs, etc... and they complained very little. I always think of them when I watch Springer or something and all these people complain about how hard their lives are, while these death march survivors game home and went back to work with very little in the way of complaints.

My dad also said that more Vietnam vets killed themselves after the war than died in the war. At least the WW2 vets came home as heroes.

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My sister's husband's father worked on a camera crew right after WW2. The camera crew that took pictures of the nuclear weapons detonated out in the proving ranges. Amazingly, he is still alive in his late 70's and in pretty good health, still runs a boat shop.

My father worked for the veterans administration for 40 years, retiring a few years back. They built the facility in Hines, IL which is massive (it has its own zip code) because one of the units that did the death march was raised out of Maywood. The survivors of the death march are the highest sort of people in the VA chain, when they talk people jump. Growing up I heard all of their horrible stories. One guy was a POW and ended up in Japan. When the war was over and they were liberated he went up to the officer that liberated them and borrowed his pistol. Then he walked around and executed all of the collaborators and gave him his gun back. These people went on to lead normal lives, get jobs, etc... and they complained very little. I always think of them when I watch Springer or something and all these people complain about how hard their lives are, while these death march survivors game home and went back to work with very little in the way of complaints.

My dad also said that more Vietnam vets killed themselves after the war than died in the war. At least the WW2 vets came home as heroes.

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My paternal grandfather was a private in an infantry company in the 121st Regiment of the 8th Division. He fought from Normandy to Brest to the Hurtgen to the Ruhr.

My maternal grandfather was a machine gunner in the Finnish Army. I'm not sure if he fought in both the Winter War and Continuation War, or what his rank was.

Neither of them wanted to talk much about their personal wartime experiences.

One great-uncle was a 17-yr old sailor in the Pacific, and another great-uncle lost much of his hearing in the Aleutian Islands (he was a rifleman). As far as I know, that was the only injury suffered in the war.

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My paternal grandfather was a private in an infantry company in the 121st Regiment of the 8th Division. He fought from Normandy to Brest to the Hurtgen to the Ruhr.

My maternal grandfather was a machine gunner in the Finnish Army. I'm not sure if he fought in both the Winter War and Continuation War, or what his rank was.

Neither of them wanted to talk much about their personal wartime experiences.

One great-uncle was a 17-yr old sailor in the Pacific, and another great-uncle lost much of his hearing in the Aleutian Islands (he was a rifleman). As far as I know, that was the only injury suffered in the war.

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My paternal grandfather was a private in an infantry company in the 121st Regiment of the 8th Division. He fought from Normandy to Brest to the Hurtgen to the Ruhr.

My maternal grandfather was a machine gunner in the Finnish Army. I'm not sure if he fought in both the Winter War and Continuation War, or what his rank was.

Neither of them wanted to talk much about their personal wartime experiences.

One great-uncle was a 17-yr old sailor in the Pacific, and another great-uncle lost much of his hearing in the Aleutian Islands (he was a rifleman). As far as I know, that was the only injury suffered in the war.

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My father was an RAF air gunner on Sunderlands based at Koggala in Ceylon and then later(postwar) in India. He is in the photograph of 240 squadron arranged in front of a Sunderland in the book "Wings of the Dawning".

His father (my grandfather) was shot in the head on the Somme in 1916 and had a metal plate fitted in his skull. He lived into his nineties. When in hospital a few years ago, the staff were suprised that such technology was used so long ago.

My mother was a child living in Coventry when it was bombed.

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