VE day

[Phil]

My grandfather fought in the 4th armored Div at Remagen.

One for Grandpa

[Gritsngumbo]

Here! Here!

[Slick Fan]

Mmmm...that looks tasty!

[Johnny Canuck]

One for my Father-in-law who fought all the way from Juno Beach on D-day to Liberating Holland, in a Sherman tank.
He got a Military Medal from King George at a ceremony at Buckingham Palace. (roughly equivalent to the US Silver Star)

[Gritsngumbo]

Bet that Sherman tank had a Ford engine in it.

[Phil]

Bet that Sherman tank had a Ford engine in it.

regardless, it was full of heroes

[slick4x4]

dad got his draft papers on his 21st birthday 1942
he was at remagin bridge too, A battery 9th Armered
came back home got married , had kids, farmed
we worked together every day
loved to hear him talk about those war stories
lost him last spring
i miss him tellin me.....that'll never work.

[ezernut9mm]

cheers to him and all the vets!

[jakdad]

My most heartfelt thanks go out to all the Veterans. You guys made us what and who we are, the greatest country on the planet!!!

[Alan Mclennan]

Alan,

[jakdad]

OK Alan, The Aussies were there too and we couldn't have done it without them!!!!

[Johnny Canuck]

:roll:
Alan,

oh, brother.
I am fairly sure Doug (my F-I-L) didn't have to buy his own uniform.

[Garbz]

Yes, without our fathers and grandfathers doing the right thing we would no be the Boomers we are.

Dad joined in 40 and picked a plumb assignmet in paradise...

Dad's was breakfast was suddenly intrupted by the bombs falling on Hickam next door, Dec 7 41.....

CO A 65th combat Engineers Schofield Barracks Hawaii....He went from Pearl to Guadalcanal and landed with the Marines to build the air strip, Did a stint in New Zeeland, and the helped liberate the Philipines. Mustered out on August 7th 45' The day after they nuked Japan..

Thank Every one of them if there still with us. Dad passed in 1999.

Garbz

[Phil]

:roll:


Alan,

Anzac day was last month.

[jwh f-100]

Yes, Cheers and thanks to all.

loved to hear him talk about those war stories

I agree. I always loved the storeis my granfather told me about WWII but was always impressed how he told them. One time he showed me a pistol he kept near his bed. He said he was carring one just like it during the war when he was shot at. He said the other guy missed but he didn't....... My knees were shaking and he told it like it was a walk in the park.


I often regret not spending more time with him.

If anyone has an interest in reading a nice article take a look. It is long winded so you may want to pass. It was written about my grandfather when he passed on.

10/29/04

I don't write obituaries. I don't care much for funerals. I do however, so love some lives that lead to both. There will be one printed in the paper and a funeral will be held in Honesdale on Thursday November 4th. The life that was lived and lead to these things ended yesterday, October 28th, 2004. If you'll allow me, I'd like to share a just little about that life with you.

The man was a friend of mine, and no doubt countless others. I had known him, as I said to him recently, since I was a young boy, for more than half a century. With a grin and in his slow, soft spoken cadence he said he had known me longer, he recalled when I was born. Then he shared a couple little stories about that long ago time, (not that long). Apparently the birth of a first grandbaby in a nearby farm family, (he was married to my Dads favorite cousin but still..?), was big news in a small village in those days?
As a young boy I realized that when I talked with him he spoke to me as if I were a grown-up. With intelligence and worth spending his time discussing things. I found over the years he treated everyone that way. It seemed everyone was worth his time.
He spread the time of his life over many years touching the lives of so many and in such diversity that it is hard to believe he spent nearly all of it living in the suburbs of Equinunk, Pa. He came there as a young man to live full-time when his parents bought the local general store. But he didn't spend it all there.

He was born during the Roaring Twenties, shortly before the Great Depression descended on the land. That placed him squarely in the generation we have come in recent years to refer to as the "Greatest Generation". Having been that lucky, he came of age just in time to take an extended trip of several years during the early 1940s, courtesy of his Uncle Sam. He got to travel much of Great Britain, Europe, Italy, North Africa. He didn't talk a lot about the trip. He did tell me he made a lot of friends. Some of whom he maintained contact with most of his life through letters, unit reunions, phone calls and, I expect recently even a bit by e-mail. He developed a real affinity for photography while over there. When I mentioned that I lost my photo album of my buddies in the service on the way home after discharge, he said he had had a similiar experience?
When he was not chasing Rommel back and forth across North Africa, and waitin' for the British to show up, for the photo-op for the newsreels. Or chasing Nazis around Italy, and commandeering a Nazis officers motorcycle so he could "tour the countryside", in between fighting. He would be busy snapping photos, not pictures really, as he had no way to develope them. ( That skill came later in his little home built basement dark room). So he just kept the camera clicking and packing and carrying the negatives with him. When he left the army after the war, he lost his negatives somewhere on the way home..., all 3000 of them!! His way of sharing a "similiar experience".
We joked that those negatives were probably developed and printed in books or magazines over the years by whoever found them. Or just as likely locked away in a government archive somewhere. Many of them were of things that some folks would not have wanted printed anywhere anyway. Beautiful countrysides and scenic vistas, scarred by war, and secret bases, and yeah those camps, too.

One of the ways he continued to serve his country and community after the war years, was to become a charter member of the American Legion Post in Lookout, Pa. There he served not only as longtime Post Adjutant, but Post Commander as well. He currently held the post of First Vice-Commander. He had received his 50 year membership certificate in recently. He was a steadfast comrade, regularly attending meetings, volunteering in anyway he was able to help. And spending time with men with whom he had a special kinship. He stood with us for many years and we will proudly stand at his side once more this coming week.

After the war years came the good times. He married a sweetheart from the neighborhood, a beautiful, thoughtful woman named Lois. He became the Equinunk postmaster in the fifties and settled in to make a life for her and eventually two daughters.
However, his life was not that of a typical small country village postal worker. Over the years his many circles of friends, and interests and projects grew so diverse that I had come to look on him as a sort of Renaissance man. Not in the traditional sense of arts and sciences. But as sort of country tinkerer, whose mind always saw a way and whose hands always had the skill. He built and restored and created so many things through the years. Mostly in his garage or basement shop. Sometimes he had to invent or build the very tools he needed for a project! Money might have made it easier, but I believe he liked the challenge and most always found a way.

I mentioned photography before. Over the years, he kept taking pictures. While at it, he acquired, repaired, rebuilt, or built from scratch scores of cameras. Dozens of which were displayed on the shelves in his collection at home. He developed his pictures, enlarged them, modified them, made special effects in them, saved them, gave them to friends, and all this without a computer and software! Surprisingly, just a few years back we were talking about his new fangled "digital camera". Here's a guy in his seventies, thousands of pictures and hundreds of cameras, decades of experience. But he never stopped learning. So he shocked me when he said, he had given his newest fancy, expensive, conventional 35mm camera to a daughter. I asked why? Because, he said, he thought he'd never go back to film, too limiting! These new digitals were the only way to go!

Did I mention he repaired guns, made custom stocks by hand, built rifles for friends, and again sometimes built the tools to do the job? He had a lifelong interest in guns. I first saw that as a young kid on my grandparents farm, back in the early sixties. He had dropped by to show a couple pistols to an uncle of mine and do a bit of shooting. Two young men discussing and handling pistols. I was off to the side, too young to participate. But oh! How it caught my attention when the talking slowed and he stepped up and drew that gun and fanned off six shots in rapid fire. The six slugs slamming into an old saw blade 40 feet away with loud clangs! Smoke swirled, he and my uncle grinned, and me...? Well I had grown up on the cowboys in the movie theater and the little black and white TV set at home. I was astounded, this guy could shoot just like Roy Rogers, Gene Autry, or Jesse James!? Hey, I was a kid.
He went on with those skills for his whole life. Just ask his many friends down at Heberlings where he "competed" nearly every Friday night for years, right up through the present. Ask all the guys who compete in the "cowboy" style matches held behind his home each Sunday in the summers. Yeah, he set up an entire cowboy style shooting range across his back yard and into the surrounding woods. Noisy place, but the fun those guys had!

He went on to rebuild, restore, modify, customize a number of cars through the years. I recall a little "sports car" he drove for awhile. With a family to raise, he didn't buy one. He aquired an old car that started life, I believe as a 1956 studebaker. Then, in his little one-car garage with barely enough room to walk around it, he started to take it apart. Eventually, it ended up narrowed, (yeah, frame out), shortened, lowered, chopped, and channeled. He then built the body work, made an interior, molded it all back together, sanded it, and painted it, and got it on the road. All with basic hand tools! When it was done it was a little sports car machine like no one had seen before! Went like crazy and handled like a little race car.

Then there were the motorcycles! In the 1950s he was one of those guys who had come back, literally, from saving the world. And having also endured a great depression for a childhood learning and growing experience. They were now fully prepared for some Good Times! What better way to have a good time than to start riding motorcycles with a few like minded friends?! Over the years he would own and modify, ride and enjoy, as best he could recollect, fourteen motorcycles. He made many good friends in that circle as well. I was one of the youngest, (and luckiest), but not really part of the group, I was still a kid then. But he found time to teach me to ride on a Harley in the church-yard(!), up the road from his home along Crooked Creek in 1962. He became one of the charter members of the Pleasure Riders Motorcycle Club. He took me a time or two to "meets" in those heady days. This, when his wife Lois would "find" a reason to let me go instead of herself. When he was about 75 and then had a wife who did not share his joy in riding, I got lucky. He called to ask if I might be interested in buying his motorcycle? Oh yeah! So I rode his last bike, for him, for years.
There with the club he rode with a group of folks who knew how to have a good time! For many, many years he rode and partied with people who were some of his best life-long friends. People with familiar names like, George and Gerry, Freddie and Alice, Dave and Joan, and Ray and Frank and Bob and so many others. He mentioned that at one point, early on, he was the very first mechanic at Georges brand new Harley-Davidson shop. (Postmaster by day, secret Harley ridin' mechanic 4 hours a night after sorting the U.S. Mail).They dressed the part, looked and lived the part. They built a club house, and held camp outs and field meets and parties. There may have been even been alcohol involved, who remembers? I imagine there is a Big Reunion goin' on upstairs right this minute with several of those people. Not to mention some who are still with us, who I know are dearly missing those who are there.

Did I mention the Music? He liked music. He could play accordion, keyboard, stringed instruments. He played for fun with many of the same folks he rode with on motorcycles, (no, not at the same moment). But that was not quite enough for this man. So he also repaired, tuned, built and rebuilt the instruments he and his friends played. He even invented at least one new stringed instrument. I don't recall what he called it, but it was sort of a cross between a banjo and a fiddle? Didn't sound too bad, but then I only play the radio. He played square dances, round dances, weddings, grange halls, community halls, family reunions. Anywhere he could add to the pleasure of the people nearby.
For his 75th birthday his daughters threw a big party. The Pine Mill Community Hall over-flowed with people. Now that would be expected..., but The Music! There must have been 15 or 20 musicians there that day! Old ones, young ones, middle age ones, some pretty good ones! All there who knew the music in the man. And who had come especially to play and "Jam" with a man they all had played with and learned from, respected and clearly loved.

I have spent many hours over the years talking with him. Just listening and learning from a man who lead such a life. Most times while he was in the midst of one of his many projects. A couple weeks ago I asked if he was busy? Well he named off the latest friends gun he was working on and the little problems to solve to get it just right, and a couple other things he was in the midst of doing. Still workin' learnin' and doing. Most of us will be lucky to keep the recliner warm at his age, but he was still doing!

I said to someone today that there is so much I wish I could still talk about with him. History to hear and file away..., but then it occurred to me. We are done talking for now and that is ok with me! Because, if we had another, oh, 10 years or so to talk, no doubt, when that time closed, just like today, there would still be so much left! So this is a good time to stop.

He has left behind a legacy in his daughters and grandchildren who meant the world to him. A family blessed by his example and his genes. They have grown into a family of artists, musicians, singers, writers, poets, so his talents not only pleasured us in his lifetime, but will continue! I know there are many many friends out there who will miss him dearly in this life. Take Heart! We can, each of us, stay in the circle and join the reunion anytime!

This is my little way of saying "so long" for now to a lifelong friendship. And my friend. Albert Lind, see ya Al!

Howard Teeple

[Johnny Canuck]

very cool.

[Slick Fan]

If anyone has an interest in reading a nice article take a look. It is long winded so you may want to pass. It was written about my grandfather when he passed on.

That was cool, what a great way to remember someone.

[Alan Mclennan]

We should be proud of our brothers in arms and the sacrifices they made for us all and the rest of the world (even if they don't realise it)
and I was pleasantly surprised that heavyhauler new when Anzac day was.
The was meant for jakdad`s " the greatest country on the planet"
in the northern hemisphere that is


Alan,

[Z-MAN]

And to all
\




Z

[64 litl un]

My Great Uncle
Charles Edwin Brown (Uncle Snoot) 1921-1945
He was 4f which means he was unfit for military duty due to an injury in the mines this was 1942.
Some in the community could not understand why someone so young who was still working in the mines was not in the service. He was even shunned in his church.
By early 44 he had saved enough money to correct his injury. He married had his surgery recovered and enlisted in the US Army.
He completed training and was sent home for Christmas to be deployed in January 45.
Dec. 16 1944 the Germans broke through the Ardenne. The Battle of the Bulge.
Snoot notified by telegram... Leave Canceled Report to Birmingham Terminal Train Station 0800 Saturday
Saturday morning the family fixes a giant breakfast and has their Christmas early for Snoot. He says his goodbyes then my Grandfather and Great Grandfather take him to the train station. At the station he is told there has been a mistake his train will not leave until 8 PM not AM. My G Granfather grabbed his son by the shoulder and said "Come on son, lets go back home" Uncle Snoot replied " Daddy, I just said goodbye to my Mama, My sisters and brothers, My wife and my new baby boy. I can't do that again and I won't put them through it again." So my Grandfather and Great Grandfather stayed with him in Birmingham until his train arrived.
He was deployed to Pattons 3rd Army.
He wrote home saying he would not have to walk anymore because they moved him to a tank. He was now the 75mm loader on an M4 Sherman Tank. He had three days training in tanks.
It seems that so many tanks were getting knoked out that there was a shortage of trained crews. The tanks could be repaired but the crews were lost. The replacement crews would spearhead while the more experienced crews would be further back as they had the experience to out flank the Germans while they were busy with the replacement crews or cannon fodder.
My Uncles tank was hit and destroyed while battling a German Tiger. The tank commander survived he was blown out of the hatch.
Telegrams
Late Febuary 1945 MIA
March MIA presumed killed with a letter from his CO saying he was killed and he was a fine soldier.
April KIA confirmed
Family replied, "Where is he buried?" Months later the Army replied they did not know for sure, possibly he was buried in Holland.
In 1965 my Great Aunt, Snoot's sister, told this story to a friend at work. She in turn notified her son who was in the US Air Force stationed in Germany.
This young man very touched by this devoted his leave time to walking crosses.
A month or so later my aunt got a call that Charles Edwind Brown's cross had been found in a US military cemetary in Holland.
My G Grandmother great aunts and his widow and son flew to Holland to see his grave in 1965.
In an interveiw, a German tank commander was asked, " Is it true that the Tiger was 5 times better than the Sherman?" The German replied " All I can say is they always seemed to have SIX."