Or poke around grampa's attic.
Or poke around grampa's attic.
Or poke around grampa’s attic.
Never mind that . Check his basement, that’s where one guy had a functioning Panther tank!
No kidding.
My grandpa had a P-08 he took off a German in a foxhole during an artillery barrage in WWI. His own artillery unit was wiped out. He survived by jumping into that foxhole, and killing the two Germans in it in hand-to-hand combat. (It took years of needling to get him to show it to me.)
He was the lone survivor of his platoon. He had more than one Purple Heart: finger shot off, forehead grazed, left arm nearly amputated from serious gunshot wound.
My grandmother was told via telegram that he would be arriving in the States with one arm. He had been shot while holding a rifle, and a bullet entered the inside of his wrist and exited the outside of his shoulder - I saw both lengthy scars once. Somehow, after the telegram was sent, they found a way to save his arm.
I always considered him a jovial man, but I once heard my grandma say that he lost much of his humor after the war, would not talk about what he witnessed, and would never be the same. (He must have been hilariously funny before the war.)
He was the son of legal immigrants - German and German-Jew descent - from Germany, and he was 100% American!
Meanwhile, my grandma almost died during the 1918 influenza epidemic. Her throat was so constricted she could not eat and could barely breathe. They kept her alive by pouring Vicks VapoRub down her throat.
Those were real Americans - and the children of real immigrants.
I am ashamed of what we have become.
MAGA!
Yes, exactly.