Picture of the day

Not as famous as Rosenthal's iconic photo of the flag raising on Iwo Jima on February 23, 1945, this photo was taken by Pfc George Burns, another photographer on Mount Suribachi that you might heard of.

Suribachi-Iwo-Jima.jpg
 
Not as famous as Rosenthal's iconic photo of the flag raising on Iwo Jima on February 23, 1945, this photo was taken by Pfc George Burns, another photographer on Mount Suribachi that you might heard of.

Suribachi-Iwo-Jima.jpg

Pretty sure that's the Indian Ira Hayes from the "most famous second photo" seated far left holding a .30 carbine.
 
I have heard of the Canadians being referred to by the Heer and Waffen SS opposition as the "Tommy SS". I always wondered if that was a bit of braggadocio or flat out bullsh!t, or if that really happened. Anyone got a reliable source?

Considering the shenanigans the SS pulled, I'm not sure it's a label I'd be very comfortable wearing were I a Canadian soldier of the time.

Here they are in Sunny Italy, ducking the fighting in France and drinking wine, the slackers:

Canadians-in-Ortona-Italy.jpg
 
The SS very definitely proved themselves to be murderous bastards. However, the Canadians certainly returned the favor in Normandy. They also went head to head with the SS in the summer of 1944 and it was pretty much a stalemate. Maybe there is something to it.
 
The SS very definitely proved themselves to be murderous bastards. However, the Canadians certainly returned the favor in Normandy. They also went head to head with the SS in the summer of 1944 and it was pretty much a stalemate. Maybe there is something to it.
Canadian troops returned the favour right to the end of the war. Talking to vets, I was told in no uncertain terms that in many situations that taking SS prisoners was not an option.
 
One of my Uncle's fought in Italy. After it was over, he never stopped drinking. He always had that haunted look in his eyes.

He had a jewelry box, full of medals, in their presentation cases. He showed them to me once but wouldn't go into how he got them. Had some papers describing how as well, that he never showed anyone.

He came out to Vernon BC, to the training camp, he trained at before being assigned to a unit and being sent overseas. Some of the guys he trained/fought with, were having an impromptu reunion. The only one I know of that they had.

He drove here by himself but asked me to take him to the reunion as he told me there would be some serious drinking going on. He wasn't kidding. There were about a dozen sh!tfaced vets letting it all hang out. They laughed at each others stories, cried together unashamedly over the less positive antics and battles, where they lost well loved comrades they all would have died for, if they could have.

One of the fellows had a wooden box with him, about 24 cm long, 8cm wide and 6cm deep. It was built in the same manner some of us older folks would recognize as a "pencil box"

The difference was this box contained a Dagger, in its scabbard, with an Ivory handle and woven lanyard, in a brown leather frog. Beautiful thing.

Every man there recognized it. It had been taken from a German officer, they had captured in his full dress uniform. They all talked about this for a while, much subdued. It turned out they had come up against some elite troops, not SS, and the fighting had been grim for a couple of days/nights.

The officer didn't surrender, he was on his way to be chastised, tried for his poor leadership and severe losses against the Canadian units. They may have saved his life.

That was the incident where he and his unit got a citation as well as individual medals. The officer gave his dress Dagger to the fellow that brought it to the reunion.

I have no idea what happened to any of those folks, other than my Uncle. They would all be in their late 90s now, if still alive.

I heard a lot of stories that day. Some of them haunting. Most they just laughed off, but you could tell by the look in their eyes, they were dead serious.

I was privileged to be able to share that reunion with them. About half of them ended up at my house, because they had nowhere else to go. They had flown in that morning and hadn't bothered to book accommodations. Four of them had to be carried to the box of my old 72 Dodge 3/4 ton as they had passed out.

The other two were in my cab, still hitting the bottle and laughing their guts out, which we had to stop alongside the road home for them to bring up and relieve themselves several times.

I don't know if this is what you're looking for DAD. From what I could see and hear, it was all very real and they all had the same story after close to 30+ years.
 
Warfare's a terrible Goddamn thing. We ask people to drop everything and go risk everything they have for an occasionally vague concept or a country that may or may not ever show any appreciation at all. Takes a special kinda person to sign up for that.

Those old fellows wore what they did their whole lives. Such a huge price to pay.

In my hometown there was a fellow who frequented the Legion. He shook so bad he had to two-hand his beer or spill half of it. I was told he'd been like that since they liberated the POW camp he'd been in. Poor man spent the last fifty years of his life a physical and emotional wreck because of something done to him in his 20's. Incredibly sad.

On November 11th I spare a thought for the survivors and not just the dead. A lot of those boys came home hurt and stayed that way. The lucky ones found ways to manage it, but many didn't. We owe them too.
 
I have heard of the Canadians being referred to by the Heer and Waffen SS opposition as the "Tommy SS". I always wondered if that was a bit of braggadocio or flat out bullsh!t, or if that really happened. Anyone got a reliable source?

Considering the shenanigans the SS pulled, I'm not sure it's a label I'd be very comfortable wearing were I a Canadian soldier of the time.

Here they are in Sunny Italy, ducking the fighting in France and drinking wine, the slackers:

Canadians-in-Ortona-Italy.jpg


The Canadians proved themselves to be a hard, resourceful and determined foe against the Germans. I think it was in both Normandy and Holland that earned them a reputation of being amongst the best fighting forces, further proven in Germany. I read an autobiography by Maj Gen Christopher Volkes, where he described how his best friend had been sniped in the back in Germany, so he razed the town to the ground. (Friesoythe) That may go some way as to why the were described that way, more as an elite fighting force than murderous?

Candocad.
 
The SS very definitely proved themselves to be murderous bastards. However, the Canadians certainly returned the favor in Normandy. They also went head to head with the SS in the summer of 1944 and it was pretty much a stalemate. Maybe there is something to it.

I know a Canadian vet who's about to turn 99 this year. His mind is a as sound as a young man's. Last year he shared his life story and combat expirence over in France and Holland. Amazing story, I've talked to him about recording his story and he was willing to. I asked him did you fear the SS and did he consider them to be the best fighting force? He replied, he didn't fear them, but he did respect thier fighting ability, but give him a rifle and he was every bit as good as them.
 
The Canadians proved themselves to be a hard, resourceful and determined foe against the Germans. I think it was in both Normandy and Holland that earned them a reputation of being amongst the best fighting forces, further proven in Germany. I read an autobiography by Maj Gen Christopher Volkes, where he described how his best friend had been sniped in the back in Germany, so he razed the town to the ground. (Friesoythe) That may go some way as to why the were described that way, more as an elite fighting force than murderous?

Candocad.

Holy hell: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Razing_of_Friesoythe

As the commanding officer of the 1st Battalion, The Algonquin Regiment later wrote, "the raging Highlanders cleared the remainder of that town as no town has been cleared for centuries, we venture to say". The war diary of the 4th Canadian Armoured Brigade records, "when darkness fell Friesoythe was a reasonable facsimile of Dante's Inferno".

The phrase "rampaging highlanders" is seldom used when relating happy times.

pt5y8s3jogt11.jpg


The difference between this and Oradour-sur-Glane was the Canadians took it out on the town and not specifically the people. Not an insignificant difference, but startlingly similar in many ways. Some nice fellow who ran the grain elevator in Rimbey or cooked in a logging camp in northern Ontario or worked a boat out of Sydney might have taken part in a war crime.
 
A fellow in our hunt camp got into the sauce and told us about one incident. We were horrified to hear what he had done, and looked at him differently ever since/

This is why vets don't talk. We weren't there and cannot really understand.
 
Warfare's a terrible Goddamn thing. We ask people to drop everything and go risk everything they have for an occasionally vague concept or a country that may or may not ever show any appreciation at all. Takes a special kinda person to sign up for that.

Those old fellows wore what they did their whole lives. Such a huge price to pay.

In my hometown there was a fellow who frequented the Legion. He shook so bad he had to two-hand his beer or spill half of it. I was told he'd been like that since they liberated the POW camp he'd been in. Poor man spent the last fifty years of his life a physical and emotional wreck because of something done to him in his 20's. Incredibly sad.

On November 11th I spare a thought for the survivors and not just the dead. A lot of those boys came home hurt and stayed that way. The lucky ones found ways to manage it, but many didn't. We owe them too.


DAD, they take men and now women, forcefully tear them out of their safe places, rip out their social engineered mores and put them into positions where they have to do horrendous things to survive. Some can bury it, some can't.

Then they bring them home, either in a flag draped coffin or alive, then maybe, try to give them a bit of reconditioning before dumping them unceremoniously back into the lives they had before they were drafted or signed on for in the military.

The rear echelon folks didn't have it so bad, for the most part. The thing is, they saw what was coming back and that was terrifying in itself. Then they went in and cleaned up the mess afterwards. I don't know which is worse.

Today, I would like to think that our troops are treated better, mentally conditioned for stressful situations and what they will have to do during those situations.

Some people just can't bear their perceived guilt and we often see/hear the results when the suicides are reported by the mainstream media.

What people do to other people, during stressful situations where their lives and the lives of others depend on what many consider to be atrocities is very difficult to live with and for some, the GHOSTS can be a powerful enemy, working on their minds, endlessly, with no rest.

It's extremely difficult to learn to live with those ghosts at first, but after a while they can become friends that are no longer eating you up inside. Just there for a visit.

It's like living different lives each time.

Many of the vets I've spoken with, hated coming out of the field for R&R. They felt they lost their edge each time, that edge that allowed them to do what they had to, or die.

Just imagine every single ideal you held, being ripped from your psyche by force, given a new set of ideals, completely opposite from the old ones, then being thrown back into a no longer normal to you society and not going through conditioning to be cleansed of the harsher set of ideals, being asked to ignore them and revert to the original ideals.

Sounds complicated??? It is. Most find a way to do it, but they're never the same and just don't fit well with others that haven't experienced it.

The old boys at my Uncle's unit reunion really let their hair down that day. One of them told me the next morning at breakfast, "That was the most comfortable I've felt in over 30 years."
 
A Coach at the local boxing club commanded a squad of Shermans in Europe. One of the tank commanders was sniped in at in village whilst riding with his torso out of the hatch. His response was to drop into the turret, order "HE " set the turret to traverse and stomped down on the firing switch. Gunner kept loading HE as fast as he could and they basically levelled the village.
Details...don't have more. But, I think it is a 'Had to be there thing...'
I have no experience other than a wide eyed youth listening to a seasoned Vet.
Judging seems pointless.
 
My grandfather was a Uffz. in the 2nd Fallschirmjager Div (ended the war in the 6th) and a veteran of the the Afrika, French and Italian Campaign. He only told the funny war stories and didn't hit the bottle, but when he did, he hit it hard. I remember one Christmas dinner he was feeling no pain and the family was talking about gardening shovels and sharpening the tip to cut through clay. Clean out of no where he said 'You would be surprised how easy it is to cut a man's head off with a sharpened shovel'. The conversation stopped dead in it's tracks, he excused himself from the table and went outside for a smoke. All my grandmother said after he left was 'das kreig' and the conversation just kinda kept going on like nothing had happened.

Brookwood
 
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