New topic for @milanfahrnholz
Which reminds me that I had intended to collect some WWII stories from forum members relatives since we have people from germany, england, italy, the US etc. here and it really might be interesting how much everyone knows of their family history (I still am researching, but I already know quite a lot).
Interesting idea since we have so many different nationalities here.
My grandfather was in the army during WWII, stationed in the South Pacific. I know that he was mortared and given 2 purple heart medals. As horrible as it is to think about āthe bombā, he said it probably saved his life because he was sent home after that.
This is not the one I dreamt about with the red eyes 
, that grandfather worked in a factory most of his life (and bought his first car for a nickel!).
Yeah, I think itĀ“s remarkable that we hang out here all friendly while our grandparents bombed each others cities. We got people from germany, italy, the US, england, poland etc.
So I think there may be many interesting stories out there. Here are those I know of.
On my fathers side:
My grandfather was 23 when the war began. He learned to drive motorcycles and became a radio operator for the Wehrmacht. He communicated from the ground in a truck. First he was in Poland, then in france, then he was on the march to Moscow. In late winter early spring 1945 the division spread out and everyone basically retreated on their own. He must have taken a ferry to denmark and they got themselves intentionally capture by the british army, since they knew that was the more desirable option than being captured by the soviets. He kept his iron cross, but never displayed it nor was he in any way proud of it.
My grandmother stayed at home in Regensburg (which was an airstrike target due to the Messerschmidt Air Weapon works and a chemical factory) where the apartment building they lived in was hit by a bomb that was intended for the railway station. Fortunatly she and the rest of the family survived. Reportedly they had to drag the old grandmother down to the cellar because she was fascinated by the āfireworksā outside.
On my mothers side:
Unfortunatly the stories of my mothers father were real hazy and contradictory. He came from a small town in eastern prussia that after the war became part of Poland was renamed. He never went back there. He was 14 when the war began. IĀ“m not sure when he joined the Wehrmacht and became part of the Waffen SS, but I think he might have been 17 so it might have been 1942. He also was a radio operator but on a plane. He never said anything about having been involved in any serious combat. He must have spent the last days of the war in france and finally was being taken to southern germany where he met my grandmother and stayed there until his death.
My grandmother lived in WĆ¼rzburg when it was under attack in one of the greatest major airstrikes of the war on civil territory, second only to Dresden I believe. She has often told us the story about running through the burning city and seeking shelter together with as many people she could find. She showed us several articles from newspapers where she was interviewed about those events, it must have been really really close.
My grandfather was born in 1920, he fully lived the fascist period with Mussolini.
He was only 20 when the WWII started and, even worse, he was only 23 then the ābetrayingā began, with the troops commanded by Hitler which started to capture all the Italians they could, deporting them in the concentration camps.
My grandfather Mario was deported, too.
He survived enough to tell me what he did in there (I was a child, I was disturbed every time, but I knew that those words were only the truth), how he managed to escape, how he lucky was to met my grandmotherā¦ and how she saved him from death.
I will write down his adventure, if you want.
I prefer not to write all the particulars he told me about what he was forced to undergo in the concentration camp, though.
The Germans bombed Rotterdam that way at the beginning of the war to force surrender. But we were also afraid of allied bombers. Sometimes they got confused.
Itās my personal theory that my dadās intense dislike of airplanes comes from experiencing this event when he was five. To me theyāre just these mildly annoying fly-like noises from the distance.
December 23, 1944.
A little town in northern Italy, where my grandmother lived.
This town has a train station, which links the towns of Cremona and Brescia, strategically important.
That day, the day before the last WWII Christmas Eve, at 3 P.M., four allied bombers dropped 14 bombs on that little town.
4 hit the railway, near the station, breaking the tracks for 8 metres.
Unfortunately, other 4 bombs hit a meat shop, where some persons were on lane to purchase their daily ration of meat (it was granted to whose who had a special card only).
That bombing caused 16 victims, 8 were children.
Nowadays that meat shop contains a bank, but on an outer wall thereās an inscription with the names of all the 16 people who died, with their age.
Every year thereās a commemorative ceremony to not forget that tragic day.
My grandmother never didnĀ“t flinch for the rest of her life when she heard an airplane. She was just conditioned that way.
DonĀ“t if you donĀ“t want to. But IĀ“d very much like to hear this.
Iāll ask my mother, since my grandparents all died when I was pretty young - except from my grandma on my motherās side, but her stories were a bit confused.
The only thing I remember is that she retired to inland Sardinia (which was a good choice, since Cagliari got bombed) and learned to solder. She always told me how she āsoldered in exchange of breadā.
I also know that one of my grandparents was facing difficulties because he refused to subscribe to the Fascist Party. But I donāt think he went to war. I have to ask.
I didnāt believe it was even possible, without being shooted.
Thing is. All my grandparents were too young to vote or leave the country. They were still kids. I unfortunatly have not many infos on my grandparents. But it was bavaria and they were very catholic on my fatherĀ“s side. So I guess they voted either for the party of bavaria or the christian Zentrum.
So no hardcore Nazi stories from my side. But there have been times when I have been in croweded enviormenments where I couldnĀ“t help but thing āstatisically there has to be some dark history here somewhereā.
If weĀ“re talking WWI I only know that my great grandfather (born in the 1890s and died in the 1960s, so I never met him) served food in the field kitchen.
Thanks for sharing your stories.
Somehow the ālikeā button doesnāt seem appropriate for these intense histories.
On fatherās side: my grandfather (1898) was too young to go to the army when WWI started and was living in the occupied part, so he never had to fight. He also had older brothers who would have to go to the army first, but I donāt think they did either.
When WWII came around, he had small children and was too old. Plus we capitulated almost immediately.
My grandparents never told anything about either WW to me later. Iāll need to check with my dad.
On motherās side: my grandfather was forced to go and work in Poland where he met my grandmother, they got married and had a child. When the Russians invaded Poland they fled on foot/cart/ā¦ back to Belgium.
I never knew that grandfather, as he died quite young. But my grandmother lived to be almost 100 and she always told the most gruesome stories about her brothers and family getting killed in the war. Also she told upsetting stories about the local population and deportation trains. Allegedly they shouted to the slowly passing trains: āthrow out all your expensive belongings! If not, the Germans will take them away and you will die anywayā.
She always said āthe Germans were the enemy of course, but at least they were respectful towards the civil population. The Russians on the other hand were savages and beasts.ā
Both my parents were born after the war, still it was very common for their families to check if the other family had been on the āgoodā or the ābadā side during the war, even 20 or 30 years afterwards. So even in the 1960s/1970s you could get a veto from your parents for dating a boy or a girl whose family had been āblackā during the war. As a result, most people kept a pretty tight lip on what happened during the war.
Those words sound strange, compared to what my grandfather used to tell me.
He was in the concentration camp, Germans at that time were cruel. Probably the truth is in the middle: both army (Russian and German) were savage and merciless towards civil people.
In the camp, my grandfather had to suffer humiliations, hunger, cold.
He had to do forced labour during winter, fully naked, in the snow. He could eat only once a day. He had to move heavy iron bars or something, and if he fell, the guards hit him.
Sometimes, he had to peel potatoes for many hours a day. When he told me this part the first time, I was a kid, I laughed. āItās not too much work, grandpa!ā. Then he suddenly slapped me, and added: āthey KICKED me if I did not peel enough potatoes! I had to be quick. But I was tired! But I had to peel, again, and again! Thereās nothing to laugh.ā
Oh wow! Thatās one conflicting mess of emotions right there.
Yeah. Well, the only certainty is that war sucks. The town I was born in was the scene of one of the biggest ācollateral damageā bombing incidents by the allied forces.
I think she really meant that the German soldiers didnāt rape and steal?
Historical note: the part she fled from became Ukraine, so it always had been a territory of historical dispute between boyh nations.
Iāve also heard that the Germans were initially welcomed as liberators from Stalin but that it quickly turned sour because Slav people were considered inferior to us Aryans in Nazi theology.
What a story! I feel like this could be the plot of an amazing Tarantino film.
So Iām guessing this means you are in your mid-30ās? Old enough to remember when Monkey Island came out.
Both of my parents were born in the late 1940ās. My grandfather was only 19 when he went to war. I donāt think he was drafted, but must have felt it was his duty to join the army, like many men of his era. Luckily he made it home alive or I wouldnāt be here today.
He could easily be anything between 16 and 42 
Wow, thatĀ“s my age! What a coinkidink!