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World Outraged At Brutal Minnesota Work Camps
Transterrestrial Musings Weblog ^ | June 14th, 2005 | Rand Simberg

Posted on 06/14/2005 1:03:46 PM PDT by NonZeroSum

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To: NonZeroSum

WWII POW camps in the USA... http://vikingphoenix.com/public/rongstad/military/pow/axispow.htm


41 posted on 06/14/2005 3:08:47 PM PDT by Chode (American Hedonist ©®)
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To: NonZeroSum

Good one!


42 posted on 06/14/2005 4:40:18 PM PDT by Ciexyz (Let us always remember, the Lord is in control.)
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To: NonZeroSum
Harvesting potatoes and onions in the fields of despair, many came back to their harsh camps each evening, in tears from the onion fumes (a chemical weapon precursor), dirt and "tater" skins under their fingernails, their lives an unending slog of spud-infested misery.

Hey, that how I spent my summers. They forgot about the mosquitoe hoards.

43 posted on 06/14/2005 5:13:50 PM PDT by vikzilla
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To: NonZeroSum

Wednesday morning bump...


44 posted on 06/15/2005 6:27:35 AM PDT by NonZeroSum
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To: NonZeroSum
After 60 years and a declassification review, the following interrogation results can be revealed:

Underneath the lantern by the barrack gate
Darling I remember the way you used to wait
Twas there that you whispered tenderly
That you loved me
You'd always be
My Lili of the lamplight
My own Lili Marlene

Time would come for roll call
Time for us to part
Darling I'd caress you and press you to my heart
And there 'neath that far off lantern light
I'd hold you tight
We'd kiss good-night
My Lili of the lamplight
My own Lili Marlene

Orders came for sailing somewhere over there
All confined to barracks was more than I could bear
I knew you were waiting in the street
I heard your feet
But could not meet
My Lili of the lamplight
My own Lili Marlene

Resting in a billet just behind the line
Even tho' we're parted your lips are close to mine
You wait where that lantern softly gleams
Your sweet face seems to haunt my dreams
My Lili of the lamplight
My own Lili Marlene

When we are marching in the mud and cold,
And when my pack seems more than I can hold
My love for you renews my might
I'm warm again
My pack is light
It's you Lili Marlene
It's you Lili Marlene

45 posted on 06/15/2005 6:43:10 AM PDT by Jonah Hex (Go. Hunt. Kill Skuls.)
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To: NonZeroSum

Thursday morning bump...


46 posted on 06/16/2005 6:22:12 AM PDT by NonZeroSum
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To: Rumplemeyer

My old man worked for Brewster as a heavy equipment operator. Funny, we are italian too. But born here.


47 posted on 06/16/2005 3:36:56 PM PDT by Always Independent
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To: Always Independent

My Uncle Joe was one of the first NJ State Troopers on the Turnpike when it opened and told us about a Brewster experance.

Seems the INS was tipped-off about that Brewster had a lot of illegals' working in Secaucus at the Rt. 3/Turnpike crossing.

Joe was sent with seneral INS Agents, the team leader was VERY agressive and made plain his dislike of foreigners, Joe asked him if he was an American Indian, he answered "no" and gave Joe a confused look.

They walked on to the job like Elliott Ness raiding a bootleggers warehouse, proceeding to line up all those with a decenable accents.

One poor fellow, an Italian Pipe Forman, who had been in here legally since the about 1947, was first up. Now think about this mans world, he had come from war torn Europe, a fasist state and came to America, lived in the Italian section of Newark, all his neighbors worked for George M. Brewster, he was picked up every morning by a crew truck that said George M. Brewster, he only ever had one job since his arrival here and for only one contractor, everything he saw said George M. Brewster & Son, Inc.

The lead INS agent started asking this poor guy a lot of questions, very fast and very abrupt, warning him that if he lied he was going back to Italy. Well, this flustered our hero, got him studdering and spuddering all the time being yelled at to "stop wasting time and answer my questions" the next question he asked him was "Who is the President of the United States", Joe said that without missing a beat he answered "GEORGEMBREWSTA" this resulted in reducing everyone to laughter, except the INS agent who looked confused and could only say "what?"

This effectivly ended the INS raid, the arrival of Brewster's Resident Manager and Lawyer also aided in ending the fravolieties.

My Uncle complimented the INS Agent on his interigation skills and wished them a good trip back to NYC.


48 posted on 06/17/2005 7:29:18 AM PDT by Rumplemeyer
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