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6/21/2017 8:25:40 PM
Posted: 8/6/2001 1:48:15 PM EDT
Link Posted: 8/6/2001 1:52:57 PM EDT
Well, my boat was moored to a pier at Mare Island during the gulf fracas undergoing a breakneck overhaul so that we could be sent to the gulf (crews working 24/7) and we killed off a lot of bilge wine. The pier and Vallejo, California stayed safe in spite of that. How's that? That's the closest that I have to a war story.
Link Posted: 8/6/2001 2:48:45 PM EDT
Link Posted: 8/6/2001 3:28:19 PM EDT
I have two secondhand stories that I can pass along. One of my Grandads was an Army spotter pilot (Piper Cubs, etc.) for an artillery unit in WWII in Europe (made Normandy and Battle of The Bulge). Saw some wicked stuff, his log book will bear that out. He talked of seeing his German counterparts in the air in their observation aircraft. Each pilot just waved at the other and kept going. My other Grandad worked in a shipyard in California during that war. He spoke of working on a battle damaged tin can that'd been hit by a kamikaze. It tore the hell out of the superstructure and killed some of the crew. Anyway, the crew had cut the Jap pilot's testicles off and had them in a jar of formeldahyde mounted on what was left of the bridge.
Link Posted: 8/6/2001 4:25:10 PM EDT
I have an uncle, my dad's twin brother, that was a Green Beret in Viet Nam. Every Memorial Day we put on our old Army uniforms and walk in the Holton parade. Afterwards we go over to his house and slam back a few. Sometimes he'll open up. (Please forgive me as I wasn't there and don't have his flair for story telling.) One of his first missions was to "go across the river" and see if he could recruit nationals for the cause. He happened on a tribe (he doesn't say where, but I'm guessing Cambodia) and they took him into their fold. he explained to them what he was doing and they practically proclaimed him a God. Well they had to have a big party and feast in honor of their new savior. They had a meal with pig and dog, but the best part of the rooster was saved for their honored guest. They brought him the boiled head of the rooster and 2 sticks to pluck the eye balls out to eat. Well he had to do it. Would you go over to a house as an honored guest and when they presented the filet mignon go "Oh man! That's gross!"? Of course he ate them and said "God Damn, That was fucking out standing." The chief says "He likes them bring him more, bring him more!" My uncle says "Oh God, 2 eye balls just fills me up. I think I've had enough." Same clan was out on a mission a couple of months later messing with and harassing the VC. They got them selves "in a little bit over their heads" had to run for their lives. It was well after dark and he called for and air lift out. They were crossing back "over the river" when they heard the choppers coming in for them. He said over the radio that he would mark their position with a green flair. When he thought they were close enough he touched one off but it didn't ignite. He called them back in but they said they taking small arms and had to bail. He convinced them to make one more pass and this time it would be red. "Pop" again another fucking dud. The flares were soaked. They said "That's it we're outta here". "One more pass, one more pass. Just 500 meters further north." This time the choppers were coming right over the top of them and as best he could in the dark he popped one up into the rotor blades at the same time saying over the radio "That's us". "Roger that, we have your location." They started lighting up the jungle all around them and plucked them all to safety. Another time they were in a tunnel that they had dug into a side of a hill and like 12 men, him and his clan, were hold up making observations and recording movements. One morning as the sun was coming up he went into the the tunnel for some shut eye and as he squatted on his wooden pallet that was also his bed he noticed something move underneath it that he immediately recognized as a snake. He very calmly walked over to the opening that served as the door and as he put his first foot out side he said "snake" and exited. The next thing that happened was 11 people, all reached a 2 foot opening and they all thought they would be the next one out. When they finally cleared it one fellow went back in and pinned the head of the snake down with a stick and came backing out of the tunnel....with a 12 foot cobra in his hand. No one would give him a knife or pistol to dispatch it with. They all just preferred to watch him squirm with that damn snake and laugh. My uncle finally offer him his 45 to pop it with.
Link Posted: 8/6/2001 4:26:35 PM EDT
Cont. I'm sure he has some pretty gruesome stuff to tell besides all the funny stuff but he keeps it to himself. I keep telling him he should write a book but all he says is "fuck that". At 46 I still feel like such a twerp around him sometimes.
Link Posted: 8/6/2001 4:46:29 PM EDT
Link Posted: 8/6/2001 4:54:34 PM EDT
[Last Edit: 8/6/2001 4:52:23 PM EDT by Yuppie]
With myself, being a former NAVY SEAL in desert storm, we always let the real men (MARINES), go off and play "soldier". Our biggest task of the day usually was getting the cap off of our water bottles(you know you gotta twist those bastards?!?!?), or trying to remember where we put our rifles. One of my SEAL buddies Bill, never did figure out what that lever inside the trigger guard was. Took all 6 of us 4 and a half hours just to realize it was the trigger! A nice Marine came along, and helped us out with that. Let me tell you one thing, taking your shirts off in the desert, IS NOT SMART! We forgot to bring our self-tanning lotion with us, so we figured, what the heck? All of our backs were Burnt horribly! Luckily a nice Marine suggested we put our shirts back on!
Link Posted: 8/6/2001 6:13:28 PM EDT
Originally Posted By Jim_Dandy: I have two secondhand stories that I can pass along. One of my Grandads was an Army spotter pilot (Piper Cubs, etc.) for an artillery unit in WWII in Europe (made Normandy and Battle of The Bulge). Saw some wicked stuff, his log book will bear that out. He talked of seeing his German counterparts in the air in their observation aircraft. Each pilot just waved at the other and kept going. My other Grandad worked in a shipyard in California during that war. He spoke of working on a battle damaged tin can that'd been hit by a kamikaze. It tore the hell out of the superstructure and killed some of the crew. Anyway, the crew had cut the Jap pilot's testicles off and had them in a jar of formeldahyde mounted on what was left of the bridge.
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They found his balls?
Link Posted: 8/6/2001 6:15:49 PM EDT
IN THE NAVY, YOU CAN SING US A SONG....................................
Link Posted: 8/6/2001 6:23:56 PM EDT
They found his balls?
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Yep. The bodies aren't always entirely incinerated.
Link Posted: 8/6/2001 6:47:54 PM EDT
Link Posted: 8/6/2001 7:00:00 PM EDT
[Last Edit: 8/6/2001 7:02:22 PM EDT by EOD_Guy]
I haven't seen a single legitemate war story yet on this thread. Anyone who has been around knows that war stories start with "Now this is no s**t" as opposed to fairy tales which start with "Once upon a time". [:d]. Rich
Link Posted: 8/6/2001 7:04:19 PM EDT
Or, it can start, "there I was........"
Link Posted: 8/6/2001 7:10:53 PM EDT
Link Posted: 8/6/2001 7:17:36 PM EDT
Anyone who has been around knows that war stories start with "Now this is no s**t" as opposed to fairy tales which start with "Once upon a time".
View Quote
As fellow squid, you should know that you're confusing WAR stories with SEA stories. You know, like the guy that used the eductor suction for runaway fellatio, or the female YN who tested positive for marijuana on a random urinalysis after performing fellatio on her dope-smoking civilian husband, the submarine that had a piece of duct tape left on its pressure hull covering a hole after an overhaul that successfully dived, etc. Those are sea stories.
Link Posted: 8/6/2001 10:50:16 PM EDT
Well I don't have a personal war story, but I will share with you some information I have recently recieved about a second cousin of mine. This about Captain Gerald Carl Capelle my mothers first cousin. Gerald was a West Point Graduate and is buried at the West Point Cemetary.Gerald was a Ranger and an advisor to a RVN Ranger Battalion. I have never heard the story of his death in Vietnam until about a month ago. I had been on a Vietnam Wall website and looked up my cousins name. I found it and there were several remarks left by some of those who have served with him. I got in touch with the three that had left remarks and I found out this. I will share this letter sent to me. Dear Matthew, Thanks for the email. I imagine you also contacted Stan Macleod who was Gerry's Ops Sgt on his team. Gerry was a RVN Rifle Battalion Advisor assigned to the RVN's 25th Infantry Division Based at Duc Hoa Ngia (spelling?) Province. On 3/30-31/65 intelligence reports indicated that there was a build up of some VC units across the river from Duc Hoa. It was believed that the build up was for an attack on the 25th's HQ. It was decided that a pre-emptive strike by a helicopter borne rifle Bn. be executed on 4/1/65. Gerry's Battalion was chosen. Gerry's RTO and Ops Sgt were in Saigon on a scheduled pass, since no operations were planned. A SGT Greene volunteered as RTO and SSGT Zlatko Fakin volunteered as Ops. At this time I was the Forward Detachment Commander at Duc Hoa, responsible for building a compound to house our team (ADV TM 99) when they would finally move out of Saigon. Since Gerry's mission was to kick off at 1200hrs. he asked if we could feed lunch to him and his team early. I sat with Gerry during a lunch of Salmon patties, string beans, rice and cool aid. He wasn't that happy with the sketchy intelligence, but had faith in his RVN troops.
Link Posted: 8/6/2001 11:01:11 PM EDT
The first wave went in with SGT Fakin and they secured the LZ, but when the second wave hit the ground with Gerry the VC came out of spider holes and started playing havoc with the people on the ground. Gerry and Fakin rallied the troops to move against the VC positions and at this time Fakin was killed. Choppers were still coming in so Gerry picked Fakin up and tried to get him to one of them (thinking Fakin was still alive), As he was making his way to the chopper he was hit but kept going. The crew chief on the Huey jumped down and ran to help Gerry, but they both went down under intense machine gun fire, the Huey had to take off. I had gone to Saigon after they lifted off and was at our Team Rear HQ when word of Gerry and Fakin came in about 1700hrs. Gerry's two teamates were there also when the word came in. They were inconsolable and blamed themselves for not being there with him. I hope this is of value to you and that through it you can be proud of your relative and see him for the true soldier and hero he was. I must admit when I read this letter it brought on a few tears. I had never known him and it has be some 36 years and it still felt as if I had just lost someone recently. No Slack!
Link Posted: 8/7/2001 12:07:08 AM EDT
A peace time 'warrie'...... Whilst a Puckapunyal, in the state of Victoria, about 100 or so klicks north of Melbourne a few yrs ago, was bitten by a spider during an exercise. (it was hiding in our cam net). I totlally lost it, and dropped on the 4th day after being bitten. I felt very wierd for a few days before (fluish). A 182cm, 98kg full kitted soldier, hitting the ground unconcious! Wham! Woke up in a anbulance, IV'd. Siren on, enroute to a nearby civvy hosp (if it was mil, I reckon I wudda carked it), and lost it again. Woke up in the hospital naked on the slab, with some good looking Sheila looking over me, covering me up. Spent 2 days in Intensive Care (never again, what a place), 2 days in recovery, and 7 days bedrest. (After this, could'nt even watch ER, not really but the experience was a shocker) All over a little fucken 8 legged spider not even 1/2 inch long! So, I have lived to fight another day. It took three months for the bite to heal. Oh ya, the species, (Lampona cylindrata) aka the White Tailed Spider, up to 20mm in length. Can make you really sick. It lives everywhere in Australia, but the sad thing there are others which are worse, and are often found in the home. I still am armed with a can of Raid in my bedside table. If you ever come here, especially to camp. Shake your boots out, and never leave your shoes outside, even at your home. I never do.
Link Posted: 8/7/2001 12:13:22 AM EDT
Hey Jim D, thats a hoot about the 'balls in jar', but imagine the shit one would be in if that happened today. Just not the political correct thing to do nowadays. In war, to maintain ones sanity, men have always found a sense of humour in the darkest of moments. They delt with it, and carried on. Thats a real good story though. Regards, 1feral1 Sydney
Link Posted: 8/7/2001 8:16:25 AM EDT
I went to grenada, and lebanon...nice view from the ship...heh
Link Posted: 8/7/2001 9:39:02 AM EDT
My gulf war syndrome consists of a blister on my thumb from playing gameboy tetris, I still have flashbacks every time I hear the tetris song.
Link Posted: 8/7/2001 9:47:42 AM EDT
[b]I was 9, I was stationed in Thailand (base witheld) I was ordered to nail Ho Chi Ming...heh, I was alone, on a great mission to rid the free world of a mad ruler (according to Johnson) anyways, there I was alone in the jungle and on my way to N. Vietnam....I came across a village up around the DMZ, Couldn't imagine how these peeps survived up here in the I Corps...anyway in this village I spy a hot little 8 year old chick...she helps me get to Hanoi going up the "Ho bags" trail, I reached my destination, and lets just say....mission accomplished. I'd tell ya the details, but then I'd have to kill ya...
Link Posted: 8/7/2001 9:52:29 AM EDT
My dad's best friend, Bud, was a Marine in WW2. Guadacanal, Guam, Okinawa, and China (getting ready for the invasion of Japan). He had a buddy who crawled into a Jap bunker, and when the guy came out he said he had killed several Japs. His friends said "we didn't hear you shoot them". He said "I shot them with my K-Bar". I asked Bud if he saw any Japs in combat. He said he was walking along on Okinawa, and saw one stick his head up from a spider hole a couple of feet away. He pointed the guy out to one of his friends, but never said (and I didn't ask) what they did after that. Bud said that one of his friends took a machine gun off of a crashed plane. The guy used it to shoot down a Betty bomber that flew over low one time. He also told about how him and a group of friends went into some caves to grab some stuff to bring back. They were going through a bunch of Japanese stuff, and they decided to look a bit farther in the cave. One threw a phoserous granade, and they could see Japs behind a watercolled Browning machine gun. They threw frags and got out of there. In China, representatives of the Hitler Youth took them shopping, and made sure the local merchants didn't sell the Marines junk. One of my favorite stories was from boot camp. The DI was going down the line, asking each man in turn: "Do you tink you can take me?". The reply was always: "Sir, no sir". Except for one big guy, who replied "Sir, Yes sir". The DI got the shit kicked out of him in the resulting fight. He then picked himself off the ground and went to the next guy and asked the same question. All the other guys responded "Sir, no sir". Myself, I've never been in the military, nor have I been in combat. I did have a Mexican Federal cop point an AK-47 at me once.
Link Posted: 8/7/2001 10:00:30 AM EDT
A couple more stories from Bud, the Marine. One time his unit took in a native boy that was apperently an orphan. The boy was later caught pointing a Garand at a Marine, while trying to get it to shoot. Bud told of a friend who found an American bicycle in a cave. The bike was obviously wired to blow, so he got a demolition buy to make it safe. He took it down to the beach to ride it, and at some point turned on the light, and it blew up killing him. Another guy blew himself up trying to recover a Jap sword. Bud is dead now, and he told me some of these stories in the 70s. Some he told in the 80s. Wish I got more info from him, but it is too late now.
Link Posted: 8/7/2001 10:25:15 AM EDT
My paternal grandfather was a first generation American of German ancestry. He was 16 when Pearl Harbor was bombed, but "borrowed" a friend's ID and enlisted. He was made a tailgunner on an Army Air Corps B-26, the Martin Marauder. His bird flew bombing missions from a base in England, over the Channel and the Scandinavian countries, then down into Germany, across occupied France, then over the Channel again back into England. On one mission, they took really heavy flak and had to ditch, but they limped as close to the coast as they could. All but one man, the co-pilot, jumped and landed relatively unharmed. The co-pilot refused to jump and rode the crippled bird into the deck. My granddad and the rest of his crew were picked up by the maquis, the French underground, and were separated and smuggled to the coast over the course of two weeks or so. The underground put him on a little fishing boat and rowed/sailed him back to England. He ended up with a new crew and a new bird and went back to dropping bombs on the country his father emigrated from. A few years into the war, they apparently had an amnesty for all the guys whose records were "inaccurate." He 'fessed up and they corrected his name and age, and nothing more was said about it. He retired from the Air Force as a Chief Master Sergeant. Semper Fly, Pop! Jarhead out.
Link Posted: 8/7/2001 10:54:36 AM EDT
My dad had another friend named Dick who was an engineer in the army during WW2. His unit was in the Battle of the Bulge, where it received a unit citation for withdrawing in an orderly fashion. During the Bulge, his unit saw an Me-262 flying along the valley. That was the first they ever heard of a jet. It did not give them the warm fuzzies. Dick remembers going into several towns "captured" from the Germans, and seeing fully armed German soldiers watching them drive by. Dick broght back some stuff, including a CZ-38 pistol that he gave to my dad. He has a P-38 he kept for himself. He also gave me a German field jacket, and gasmask, and a "people's army" armband. And some other stuff . . . Dick is still around. I should visit him and pump him for more info . . .
Link Posted: 8/7/2001 2:14:55 PM EDT
Link Posted: 8/7/2001 4:17:51 PM EDT
My dad had other friends who were WW2 vets. One we went to visit on a local San Diego county indian reservation (I don't believe he had indian blood) was supposed to have been the first guy to shoot back at the Japs at Pearl Harbor. When Dec. 7 rolled around, this guy was always put in the San Diego Union. Some of the Union stories said he was credited with shooting down a Jap plane, and that he won medals. My dad said the guy was wounded, refused to stop shooting, and had to be pulled off the gun by two officiers. I don't remember the guys name. I may have some newspaper clippings of him. He gave me a white pistol belt (web belt), and a couple of fadded utility hats when I was a kid. He died a while back. Another friend of my dad was in the Army Air Corp in North Africa. His base was attacked. Everyone ran. He was going to run, too, but then he jumped behind a machine gun and shot down a bf-109. My dad said he had part of the plane. My dad had another friend who was a crewmember in a B-25, and another who was in the Japanese-American unit that fought in Italy. I don't know any of their stories.
Link Posted: 8/7/2001 4:22:31 PM EDT
[Last Edit: 8/7/2001 4:20:26 PM EDT by DonS]
I thought I had related all of my WW2 stories. But I just remembered another. My dad's cousin Bob was on a PBY in WW2. He had a Resin SMG, which he never fired. Once his plane was shot up real bad. He thinks that Kennedy's PT-109 shot him up, he said that PT-109 was the only thing around the area at the time. He also got drunk one time, and he woke up while some guy was putting a nakid woman tatoo on his arm. Blood was on his arm, and the woman was half done. So he told the guy to finish it.
Link Posted: 8/8/2001 5:37:03 AM EDT
How about a picture? They’re supposed to be worth a thousand words… Below is one of forty Tomahawks my ship sent to undisclosed locations in Iraq. Fourth of July fireworks will never be the same for me… I hope the picture works. It’s my first attempt at posting a picture. [img]wsphotofews.excite.com/034/Th/sI/aU/Xf80493.jpg[/img]
Link Posted: 8/8/2001 7:39:09 AM EDT
My war story: In a little café just the other side of the border She was just sitting there givin' me looks that made my mouth water So I started walking her way She belonged to that man, José And I knew, yes I knew I should leave When I heard her say, yeah Come a little bit closer You're my kind of man So big and so strong Come a little bit closer I'm all alone And the night is so long So we started to dance In my arms, she felt so inviting That I just couldn't resist Just one little kiss so exciting Then I heard the guitar player say "Vamoose, José's on his way" Then I knew, yes I knew I should run But then I heard her say, yeah Come a little bit closer You're my kind of man So big and so strong Come a little bit closer I'm all alone And the night is so long Then the music stopped When I looked the café was empty Then I heard José say "Man you know you're in trouble plenty" So I dropped my drink from my hand And through the window I ran And as I rode away I could hear her say to José, yeah Come a little bit closer You're my kind of man So big and so strong Come a little bit closer I'm all alone And the night is so long La la-la-la la-la La la-la-la la-la Ho ho la-la La la la-la
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