What occurred 72 years ago at this time in a far away land ....



One of my uncle's was there and my brother's wife's father was there. Along with thousands of other young men, many of whom did not come back.

Guess they couldn't find their "safe space" as do our delicate snowflakes today.

L.W.

Two of my great uncles and my grandfather were there.

How did we go from that generation of fearless, tough young men willing to face death and fight tooth and nail to the current generation of helpless, spineless cowards that seem to be so prevalent today?

Thank goodness for those guys,
God Bless them all..........................

We still have men like that.

They just don't go around running their mouths.

My God! How far have we fallen? 😔

My father was on the north side of the bulge. He was a medic with the 30th Old Hickory Division. We still have the Mauser he carried - as a medic, he could not carry a U.S. issued weapon.

Not many of those guys left

My father in law was there.

My Uncle fought under Patton and survived only to get home and get hit by a Grayhound bus and was killed with his buddy's

No, they make movies.

Doesn't make this generation of Soldiers, Sailors, Airman and Marines any less great. They are a noble heir to the greatest generations service.

The snowflake hipster on the corner not so much.

Worth a read if you speak French. http://web.archive.org/web/20080924130640/http://omlt3-kdk3.over-blog.com/article-22935665.html

Or if you must have it in English

“We have shared our daily life with two US units for quite a while – they are the first and fourth companies of a prestigious infantry battalion whose name I will withhold for the sake of military secrecy. To the common man it is a unit just like any other. But we live with them and got to know them, and we henceforth know that we have the honor to live with one of the most renowned units of the US Army – one that the movies brought to the public as series showing “ordinary soldiers thrust into extraordinary events”. Who are they, those soldiers from abroad, how is their daily life, and what support do they bring to the men of our OMLT every day ? Few of them belong to the Easy Company, the one the TV series focuses on. This one nowadays is named Echo Company, and it has become the support company.

They have a terribly strong American accent – from our point of view the language they speak is not even English. How many times did I have to write down what I wanted to say rather than waste precious minutes trying various pronunciations of a seemingly common word? Whatever state they are from, no two accents are alike and they even admit that in some crisis situations they have difficulties understanding each other.

Heavily built, fed at the earliest age with Gatorade, proteins and creatine – they are all heads and shoulders taller than us and their muscles remind us of Rambo. Our frames are amusingly skinny to them – we are wimps, even the strongest of us – and because of that they often mistake us for Afghans.

Here we discover America as it is often depicted : their values are taken to their paroxysm, often amplified by promiscuity lack of privacy and the loneliness of this outpost in the middle of that Afghan valley. Honor, motherland – everything here reminds of that : the American flag floating in the wind above the outpost, just like the one on the post parcels. Even if recruits often originate from the hearth of American cities and gang territory, no one here has any goal other than to hold high and proud the star spangled banner. Each man knows he can count on the support of a whole people who provides them through the mail all that an American could miss in such a remote front-line location : books, chewing gums, razorblades, Gatorade, toothpaste etc. in such way that every man is aware of how much the American people backs him in his difficult mission. And that is a first shock to our preconceptions : the American soldier is no individualist. The team, the group, the combat team are the focus of all his attention.

And they are impressive warriors ! We have not come across bad ones, as strange at it may seem to you when you know how critical French people can be. Even if some of them are a bit on the heavy side, all of them provide us everyday with lessons in infantry know-how. Beyond the wearing of a combat kit that never seem to discomfort them (helmet strap, helmet, combat goggles, rifles etc.) the long hours of watch at the outpost never seem to annoy them in the slightest. On the one square meter wooden tower above the perimeter wall they stand the five consecutive hours in full battle rattle and night vision goggles on top, their sight unmoving in the directions of likely danger. No distractions, no pauses, they are like statues nights and days. At night, all movements are performed in the dark – only a handful of subdued red lights indicate the occasional presence of a soldier on the move. Same with the vehicles whose lights are covered – everything happens in pitch dark even filling the fuel tanks with the Japy pump.

And combat ? If you have seen Rambo you have seen it all – always coming to the rescue when one of our teams gets in trouble, and always in the shortest delay. That is one of their tricks : they switch from T-shirt and sandals to combat ready in three minutes. Arriving in contact with the ennemy, the way they fight is simple and disconcerting : they just charge ! They disembark and assault in stride, they bomb first and ask questions later – which cuts any pussyfooting short.

We seldom hear any harsh word, and from 5 AM onwards the camp chores are performed in beautiful order and always with excellent spirit. A passing American helicopter stops near a stranded vehicle just to check that everything is alright; an American combat team will rush to support ours before even knowing how dangerous the mission is – from what we have been given to witness, the American soldier is a beautiful and worthy heir to those who liberated France and Europe.

To those who bestow us with the honor of sharing their combat outposts and who everyday give proof of their military excellence, to those who pay the daily tribute of America’s army’s deployment on Afghan soil, to those we owned this article, ourselves hoping that we will always remain worthy of them and to always continue hearing them say that we are all the same band of brothers”.

Dad was there with Patton's 10th Armored.

Quite the read Pugs, Thanks.

My Grandpa was there, said he bent his spoon trying to eat something frozen in a can for Christmas dinner.

Yeah, I remember the 82nd .


I spent 3 1/2 years in the 2nd Bn., 325th. Much later than that, of course, '78-very late '81.


Naturally, there were reminders of Martin's mouth everywhere, along with other fellers from that time, including Deglopper, another mouthy one. Deglopper's reminder was a PT field named after him, after he died winning the MoH.

Those boys had a tough time (actually, several tough times, they were in various campaigns from Africa to Sicily, then Normandy and the Bulge).
I cannot help but remember those guys. And revere them and what they did. I got to serve in the same unit they did, though I didn't do anydamnthing other than that.

My Uncle was there and made it back. I've got the flag that eventually covered his coffin. My other Uncle may have been there but he's passed on and I can't ask. I know he crossed the Rhine with Patton, but he was pretty young. He might have been under age but he went anyway.

Wife's Grandpa was there...

being German from Minnesota, he spoke it fluently...

That little skill saved him and a batch of other guys from his unit.. Donned a German Uniform Coat, Helmet and a Mauser...

and had his buddies as "prisoners" being lead to 'be shot'...

The SS Tank Commander, let them pass.. and he headed off...

Grandpa and the rest of the unit, took off to the brush to hunker down for 3 or 4 days, before fellow Americans were back in the area...

When his units personnel were being sent home at the end of the war.. he was kept in Germany until the end of 1946, because he was fluent in German...

My dad was there as well. 75th Infantry Division. HDH, RIP...

Thanks for posting that Pugs.

As to WWll my dad was in the Phillipines at age eighteen digging snipers out of the trees. Providence saved him once as a very close sniper having forgotton to chamber a round and hearing him work the bolt gave my dad time to dive for cover. The shot still took him through the heal. Many other stories.

Later guarded captured Japanese (those who didn't commit suicide immediately) in a prisoner of war camp.

Silver Star and Purple Heart.

Now ninety with a mild dementia and in a nursing home.

Two other of his brothers, now deceased, were there, one a medic and a German POW in Africa for years and the other brother was in the Battle of the Coral sea, their ship so damaged they bailed water with tin cans and limped three months to port incommunicado on one damaged engine.

Edit: added info

Please don't include all young men with the pansy asses; every generation had/has them.

In the 60's, some protested, some were drafted, some volunteered.

I PROUDLY served in the 82d Abn Div and the Battle of the Bulge motto was famous - still is.

Also, my son and son-in-law are currently active duty.

Yes, there are pansies out there grabbing headlines but our Armed Forces are full of brave young and old men and women who are defending our Constitution daily.

God Bless these Great Warriors, may they never be forgotten.

My father was captured at the battle of the Bulge and spent 6 months as prisoner until he escaped. Family said his nerves were never the same after that and He passed away of a heart attach when I was 8.

Years later my Uncle told now the SS lined my dad and his fellow solders up and shot every other one so your buddy's on either side were dead. His escape came when they were used for human shields on a train that the allies bombed.

He and a few others hid in a dry well for 3 days before making their way back to the US lines.

One of my uncles was in Patton's tank battalion, fought through Italy and France then into Germany.. He had the greatest respect for the "Battling Bastards of Bastogne".. He loved the movie "Battle Cry" but would never speak of his military service. My great aunt would tell my mom of the nightmares he would have when he got home. I doubt if any snowflake could last an hour in their shoes.. God bless them!