September 1, 1939

[DE7]

World War II began 70 years ago today -- September 1, 1939 -- when Germany unleashed its blitzkrieg on Poland. Over the following six years the war claimed more than 60 million military and civilian lives. The veterans (including my own father, 85 years young) who helped defeat the Axis powers deserve our honor and thanks.

Mike

 

[ClubmanRob]

God bless all the Allies who served.

 

[jazzman]

World War II began 70 years ago today -- September 1, 1939 -- when Germany unleashed its blitzkrieg on Poland. Over the following six years the war claimed more than 60 million military and civilian lives. The veterans (including my own father, 85 years young) who helped defeat the Axis powers deserve our honor and thanks.

Mike

They saved the world. Simple as that.

 

[pal]

Mike you are right! We should remember those who were willing to stand in harms way for us so that we could be free today. I salute all who fought for the liberty of others.

[YOUTUBE]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ghz4_kikLkE[/YOUTUBE]

 

[Cheech]

Let's not forget the brave souls who risked everything to help stop Hitler: the Jewish partisans, the British who would not be conquered, the Russians who came from the prisons to fight for those who put them there, the Czechs who refused to be given over like chattle (and were imprisoned after the war), and the nameless Germans who fought to wrestle their country away from evil.

And to be un- PC, the Americans who left their families to fight for the liberty of others. To offer up your life for an idea, to risk everything when it would be easier to not, to risk death for those that could not defend thselves. And to ask for nothing in return. It boggles the mind.

And DeGaul had the chutzpah to demand all American troops leave French soil. But, somehow, it makes it all the more noble.

 

[tpoof]

World War II began 70 years ago today -- September 1, 1939 -- when Germany unleashed its blitzkrieg on Poland. Over the following six years the war claimed more than 60 million military and civilian lives. The veterans (including my own father, 85 years young) who helped defeat the Axis powers deserve our honor and thanks.

Mike

Interesting tid-bit..
thanks for sharing

my unc was a vet.. I'm using his straights

I think of him often

They saved the world. Simple as that.

they sure did

 

[pal]

Let's not forget the brave souls who risked everything to help stop Hitler: the Jewish partisans, the British who would not be conquered, the Russians who came from the prisons to fight for those who put them there, the Czechs who refused to be given over like chattle (and were imprisoned after the war), and the nameless Germans who fought to wrestle their country away from evil.

And to be un- PC, the Americans who left their families to fight for the liberty of others. To offer up your life for an idea, to risk everything when it would be easier to not, to risk death for those that could not defend thselves. And to ask for nothing in return. It boggles the mind.

And DeGaul had the chutzpah to demand all American troops leave French soil. But, somehow, it makes it all the more noble.

+1 Well said Sir!

 

[SRock]

Today is a day to honor all who served to preserve order in an otherwise disorderly time in this worlds history.

I tip my hat to all people, military and civilians, from all nations that worked together to put an end to that dreadful regime.

 

[Shane]

they saved the world. Simple as that.

+1

 

[RBE17]

They saved the world. Simple as that.

The name of The Greatest Generation is truly earned.

 

[The Nid Hog]

When I was a kid, I worked at a factory with a guy who had been in Poland when the Germans invaded. He said that it got under his skin that people laughed at the Polish soldiers who met the German attack on foot or even on horseback. He told me that he was in a cavalry unit and they knew full well that the Germans were throwing mechanized troops against them.

As the Germans advanced, he said that they got together to decide whether they should retreat or attack. To a man, they decided to attack--on horseback. They were butchered and the German assault passed through their remnants. He told me that his horse was killed but he was reasonably uninjured--the Germans left them for follow-up troops to mop up. He escaped and made his way into Russia, only to be sent to a prison camp by the Soviets. On the way to Siberia, he slipped off the train and eventually turned himself in to British troops--in the Middle East! He was sent to Britain and joined the 1st Independent Parachute Brigade (from Poland), dropping into the Netherlands as part of Operation Market Garden (like in A Bridge Too Far). Badly beaten up by the Germans, his men eventually broke out and rejoined the British for the remainder of the war. He lived in the UK for a while after the war, and eventually wound up immigrating to America.

He was a tough old guy when I knew him. One day on our lunch break, he pulled out his wallet and showed me an old black and white photo of him from his youth in Poland. He was a young lieutenant in a greatcoat with a fur hat cocked to the side and a sabre hanging on his belt. He was grinning at the camera, standing in front of his horse. He's been dead for years, but I thought about him last night when I realized what day it was.

 

[Noebie]

what an amazing story - may he rest in peace

i was thinking last night of my uncle wallie - who was in patton's army at the rapido river crossing

god bless him and all of the countless others that served

 

[IronJohn]

When I was a kid, I worked at a factory with a guy who had been in Poland when the Germans invaded. He said that it got under his skin that people laughed at the Polish soldiers who met the German attack on foot or even on horseback. He told me that he was in a cavalry unit and they knew full well that the Germans were throwing mechanized troops against them.

As the Germans advanced, he said that they got together to decide whether they should retreat or attack. To a man, they decided to attack--on horseback. They were butchered and the German assault passed through their remnants. He told me that his horse was killed but he was reasonably uninjured--the Germans left them for follow-up troops to mop up. He escaped and made his way into Russia, only to be sent to a prison camp by the Soviets. On the way to Siberia, he slipped off the train and eventually turned himself in to British troops--in the Middle East! He was sent to Britain and joined the 1st Independent Parachute Brigade (from Poland), dropping into the Netherlands as part of Operation Market Garden (like in A Bridge Too Far). Badly beaten up by the Germans, his men eventually broke out and rejoined the British for the remainder of the war. He lived in the UK for a while after the war, and eventually wound up immigrating to America.

He was a tough old guy when I knew him. One day on our lunch break, he pulled out his wallet and showed me an old black and white photo of him from his youth in Poland. He was a young lieutenant in a greatcoat with a fur hat cocked to the side and a sabre hanging on his belt. He was grinning at the camera, standing in front of his horse. He's been dead for years, but I thought about him last night when I realized what day it was.

It is really something how the proud, disciplined men of the Polish calvary have been maligned as being stupid enough to charge tanks on horseback. These men were the elite of their time. They knew it was futile but were fighting for the sovereignty of their country. The mothers, fathers, wives and children.
They charged into certain death because they knew doing nothing was worse.
It's sad that their honor has been maligned for so long for those incredible acts of bravery.
And man charging tanks on horseback takes some big ones no two ways about it.
Then to be thrown in the middle of Montegomery's disaster at Market Garden.

 

[the beav]

When I was a kid, I worked at a factory with a guy who had been in Poland when the Germans invaded. He said that it got under his skin that people laughed at the Polish soldiers who met the German attack on foot or even on horseback. He told me that he was in a cavalry unit and they knew full well that the Germans were throwing mechanized troops against them.

As the Germans advanced, he said that they got together to decide whether they should retreat or attack. To a man, they decided to attack--on horseback.

Great story. The Polish people are a great people who unfortunately got stuck amidst countries that were more powerful than them. Combined with the relatively flat terrain of Poland it was a lethal combination.

Let's not forget that Russia invaded Poland two weeks after Germany and after occupying the eastern half of the country it was them, not Germany, that killed 8,000 Polish officers at Katyn Forest in 1940. The communists were the greater threat-as bad as the Nazi's were they got a much worse rap as compared to "Uncle Joe" Stalin and his administration of murderers.

 

[Noebie]

this book is excellent - a first hand account of occupation under both the soviets and the nazis

http://www.amazon.com/Michaelangelo...=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1251901425&sr=8-1

gave me a completely fresh perspective on the depth and history of the poles

 

[Henrique]

it is really something how the proud, disciplined men of the polish calvary have been maligned as being stupid enough to charge tanks on horseback. These men were the elite of their time. They knew it was futile but were fighting for the sovereignty of their country. The mothers, fathers, wives and children.
They charged into certain death because they knew doing nothing was worse.
It's sad that their honor has been maligned for so long for those incredible acts of bravery.
And man charging tanks on horseback takes some big ones no two ways about it.
Then to be thrown in the middle of montegomery's disaster at market garden.

+ 1000

 

[Cheech]

Let's not forget it was not that long ago. I've met people who stormed Normandy, and fought in the south pacific. My neighbor was taken from the Ukraine and put in a labor camp. I've met far too many people with tattoos on their arms.

And never once did they ever bring it up. Almost always, they change the subject as soon as possible. That kind of pain is intensly private. I don't know how many times I've heard,"No one wants to hear these things."

Watch some of the holocaust testimony from Yad Vashem. It's on line. It's painful just to hear. It's a shame that we haven't done the same for the others.

And if this sounds civilian-specific, it's not.

 

[Whitmore]

My grandfather fought in the war - on the wrong side. Yes, he was one of the nameless Axis soldiers who did not for a second stand up against the system. Survived the war, survived POW camp and found his hometown in ruins. Started a new life as a waterworks technician. Had four children.

I wish I could either say he was a glowing supporter of the evil cause or turned into an avid pacifist later, but he was - indifferent. That nails it. All I remember is a man who lived his life, never talked about the past, never talked much at all and died as an old man in his house in the mountains. I wish I would have known the questions back then I'd like to ask him now.

 

[herbnerd]

He never spoke much about the war, despite signing up in 1938 at the age of 15 (anything to escape Belfast, I guess) and served right the way through until 1953.

My other grandfather, who died when I was 4, also served - but no ideawhat he did. He came to visit us when we were living in Germany and went out drinking with a number of men his age who served on the other side. Thye would just swap war stories.

Final note - interesting to see the American members discussing WWII starting in 1939 - I thought the war for them started after Pearl Harbour. (Sorry - Harbor!)

 

[SRock]

This reminded me of another great Polish American. I'll apologize in advance as I know this is going to be a long story.

When I was a kid, I worked at a factory with a guy who had been in Poland when the Germans invaded...

When I was a kid growing up we had a creepy old man that lived down the street. All of the little kids in the neighborhood were afraid of him. He was a fairly large man and had a very thick accent and a deep deep voice. Anytime a ball would accidentally get thrown in his yard he'd typically run us off. He was always loud and came across as very mean. About the only "normal" interaction the kids had with him was Halloween. He always decorated and always handed out great goodies. The other 364 days of the year we had to stay away and the stories just grew and grew.

When I was 11 I started delivering the local news paper. On day one of my route I realized the old crazy guy was one of my customers. I was training with the paper boy I was replacing. He was a few years older than me and to my surprise even he seemed afraid of this old man. He told me that I was supposed to put the old mans news paper in the mailbox and that my money due each month would be in an envelope in the old mans mailbox with "paper boy" written on it on the 1st of every month. He said I wasn't supposed to "bother" the old man. I delivered his paper and received my pay like this for several months. Then one day I went to the mailbox to retrieve the months payment and it wasn't there. I was totally freaked out. I didn't know what to do. I checked the mailbox everyday for the next week and the payment envelope was never there. Since I had to pay for my papers I knew I had to collect. It took me at least another week to approach the cranky old man's house. When I finally got the nerve I truly learned one of life's greatest lessons "never judge a book by its cover." I knocked on the door and he answered. As soon as he opened the door he looked very surprised. He smiled ear to ear and said in a very thick accent, "Oh my God Rob, how are you?" I'm fine Sir I said still very nervous and wondering how the heck he knew my name. "I forgot to leave you money, didn't I?" he asked. Yes Sir, I said. "Just one second." He came back and handed me a twenty dollar bill. As I reached into my pocket for change, he smiled and said, "Keep it for your trouble." Mr. Radziwill I said, the paper is only $6 per month. "I know, please keep it, I insist" he responded.

I left second guessing all of the mean rumors I'd heard the other kids talking about "Crazy Old Joe." Over the summer I talked to Joe more and more often either delivering or collecting payment. What I quickly learned is that "Crazy Old Joe" wasn't crazy at all. In fact he was an amazing Polish - American (I'll get to that). During the summer months when it was hot he'd offer a cold lemonade. Once he started talking it was very hard to break away without being rude. I started to get the impression he was just very lonely.

Over time I learned that his wife suffered from severe Alzheimer's and as such had terrible memory loss. She was the only person he really talked to on a regular basis and most days she couldn't even remember who he was. I started collecting my money at the door and always made it a point to say hello when I saw him. "Crazy Old Joe" wasn't crazy or mean and he wasn't even scary once you got to know him. He was like any other Grandpa.

The following spring I was out delivering my papers when it started to sprinkle. It wasn't bad at all so I didn't think anything of it. I was about half way through my route when all of a sudden the sky opened up and let loose. It was pouring so hard and the wind was so strong I couldn't even ride my bike. I ditched it at a friends house and stubbornly ran from door to door trying to finish my route. By the time I got to Joe's house it was nearly pitch black out and it was starting to get very cold. I knocked on the door to give him his paper and he nearly panicked. He saw me and yelled, "Get in here there's a tornado warning." I hesitated as I'd never been past the front door. He insisted again, "Rob get in here now we can call your Dad but for God's sake get your A** in here now!" So I did. As soon as I stepped into the living room he handed me the phone. I called my Dad and told him where I was. While I was talking to my Dad Joe hurried his wife into the basement and then came back for me. I spent the next few hours in the basement of his house with him and his wife. We started to talk. I really think he was just trying to keep me calm (or maybe trying to keep himself calm).

I learned that he was born/raised in Poland. Prior to that I didn't know what his accent was. Early in his youth family and friends discovered he was a naturally gifted swimmer. In early 1930 he began his official Olympic quest training with the Polish national team with the hopes of competing in the 1932 Olympics. He made the team but only as an alternate. He didn't get the opportunity to compete in '32. As he told me about his Olympic endeavors he got out an awkward looking chess set. He asked if I knew how to play. I told him no so he insisted that I allow him to teach me "since we had time." As we talked about the rules of the game he told me how he continued to train as a swimmer and once again made it on as an alternate in 1936. He was very proud of his Olympic experience even though he never got to compete. He said he won many local, national and international competitions but never got his full shot at the Olympics. Shortly before the start of WWII in 1939 Joe entered Poland's Navy. His ship was at sea when they got word that Poland had been invaded. Like many of Poland's Navy vessels they escaped via the North Sea and hooked up with Britain's Royal Navy. He served along side the Royal Navy until his ship was sunk a couple of years later. He survived the attack (obviously) and was picked up by some kind of cargo vessel. At about this point in the conversation/story the doorbell rang. It was my Dad. The storm had passed and he came to pick me up. My Dad ran me around to finish my route several hours after the deadline. Though everyone understood as several tornadoes touched down in the local area.

I continued to carry the paper for another two years and it became a ritual to occasionally stop at Joe's for my payment, a glass of cold lemonade and further details of his amazing (and nearly unbelievable) life story. Occasionally he'd break out that strange little chess set and we'd work on the game as we talked. I learned that after Joe's Navy ship was sunk he and several other survivors went to work for the cargo vessel/company that rescued him. He was continuing to support the war effort by delivering supplies to allied troops at "safe" port locations. He was saving his money in the hopes of making it to the United States. He worked on the cargo ship for a little over a year. The closest the cargo ship ever got him to the US was a few miles off the coast of Cuba. He started to feel as though the company was deliberately overworking/underpaying them and keeping them from making it to the US. Joe decided that a few miles from Cuba was close enough and it was his time.

He felt that as a phenomenal swimmer he had a chance. He and four others (two former Navy and two Polish civilians) jumped ship and made the ridiculous swim towards the coast of Cuba. I don't know what they had for flotation devices or any survival gear he basically said they just jumped and swam. Along the way they lost two of their five man group.

The three who made it to Cuba begged for food and shelter and made their way across the island to the Northern Shore. As they were making their way across the island Joe informed the other two men that he would be getting back in the water and heading for the US. One of the other men thought he was crazy and opted to stay in Cuba. Joe never heard from him again. The remaining man helped Joe work for/purchase a very small boat from a fisherman that they repaired and stocked with what food and water they could gather. Three weeks after making it to the shore of Cuba they shoved a small boat in the water and headed towards the Florida Keys.

Joe and I started to play Chess about once a week. His stories were amazing and while I wasn't sure how much of it I believed I could tell he enjoyed the company and I enjoyed the stories and learning to play chess.

He told me that at some point in their journey the boat was capsized by a storm. Joe lost his last friend on the final leg of the journey but walked ashore in Southern Florida under his own power. He said he was swimming/floating for the better part of three days. Shortly after making his way into the US Joe was able to get into the US Navy. He served in the US Navy until the end of WWII. After he was honorably discharged from the US Navy he moved to Indiana to take a menial job with RCA. He worked his way through the ranks and ultimately retired as the plant manager. Joe's entire family (except his Mother) were either killed in combat or died in Nazi concentration camps. He frequently cried when he talked about his lost family. I always reminded him he truly did everything he could.

Joe served in or along side the Navy's of three different nations and aboard a cargo vessel that supplied allied troops. He went on to live the American Dream. He owned a house had a solid career and raised three children who went on to be successful themselves.

In the spring of 2003 my Father heard a knock at the door. He opened it to find a woman in her late 40's that he'd never seen. She asked, "Does Robbie live here?" My dad said, "No Rob's in the Air Force now he currently serving in Saudi Arabia. He left almost nine years ago. Can I help you with something?" She said my name is _____ Radziwill-_________ and Joe was my Father. He passed away last week. My Dad told her he was so sorry for her loss. She said, "I've never met your son but my Father left him this." She handed my Dad that awkward looking chess set and asked if he had any idea why her Dad would will that to me. He told her as much of the story I've written above that he could recall.

She opened the chess board and took out a note that was inside. It says:

Rob,

I was so proud the first time you rang my doorbell and stood at my front door in your dress blues. I remembered just how proud I was the first time I put on my own uniform and just how proud I was to take my citizenship oath in my US Navy uniform. I see your Father from time to time and he always talks about how proud he is. You are a fine young man. My children all married and moved away. When Betsy started forgetting who I was I feared I wouldn't live much longer. You came along at the right time. I know they are busy and have lives of their own but I saw you more than my own kids and I appreciate that you humored me all those years. I want you to have this chess set. I never told you, but I made it myself. The board was carved from wood from the boat that brought me to the US. It was carved from the largest piece that I made it to shore with. I whittled the pieces over the years I served in the US Navy. Keep this chess set, and play often. It will keep your mind sharp. Teach your children to play someday and never let them move so far away.

A grateful old man,

"Crazy Old Joe"

Jozef Radziwill

My Dad didn't tell me about Joe's passing while I was deployed because he didn't want to stress me any further. When I got home on leave late in 2003 he gave me the chess set and told me about Joe's daughter visiting the house. I felt as though I'd lost my own Grandfather. Over the years since meeting Joe I learned that every bit of his story was true. He was an amazing man. He was a Patriot and honored both his homeland in Poland and the Nation that he adopted in the United States.

I still have the note and it is still in the chess board. I play from time to time and always share Joe's story with anyone who'll listen.

Sorry this was so long. I am very tired as I'm writing this. I just thought this the perfect thread to share the story of another great citizen of Poland and the United States. He truly was one of the Greatest Generation.