I have read all the replies and appreciate them, and the extra insights borne therein. God has blessed me with the deep friendship and acceptance as a brother-in-arms of many true warriors, though my own history of my six years as a National Guardsman is very humble.
Relative to the topic here, I worked in the late 1950s at a bread distribution terminal as an extra man filling in for or assisting for several bread van drivers, each of whom was a WWII and/or Korean War combat veteran. Of them, one had served in Patton's 3rd Army as a tanker for three years, up to and through the end of the war. On our months of driving together, he shared many of the experiences he had, but in summary, at the war's end, at 21 years old he was a hardened, very experienced tank commander, tougher even than the one portrayed by Brad Pitt in "Fury."
It was from him that I first learned of Patton's nickname--"Ol' Blood and Guts"--and what that meant, pejoratively.
He often mentioned the fellow who to him was far away the most important one to him and everyone else in the crew: the tank gunner, a Kentuckian hill farm boy, who hated his tanker boots and when possible often shucked them and went barefoot, and not a natty uniform wearer when in the field, either.
Not using the tank's sights, he aimed the gun by eye with inborn "Kentucky windage." His practical gunnery was so deadly accurate and swift that the whole crew saw him as the only way that they would survive the battles they were going through. They protected him so carefully that they always stood between him and anyone that might harm him, even surrounding while he was sleeping, making sure that he was healthy, and getting enough food when there was little to spare.
I was told that one time a strange officer passing by took in hand to stop and discipline this gunner for his slovenly appearance; but before he finished his tirade, he found himself facing the muzzles of several sidearms. Apparently this officer found it wise to shut up, walk away without further comment, and was never again seen by the crew nor heard from.
This fellow van driver gave me a lot of practical advice for my role as an infantryman, which helped me to earn respect from my companions and officers in the Guard, and to gain advancement when time in grade had passed. Eddie helped me on my way, so that by the time my Honorable Discharge came, I had been an E-5 for a couple of years, and a machine squad leader at the time of separation.
Because of the congenial relationships found with several real combat men, through life a great comfort has come through being accepted by many veterans who would not otherwise have been approachable, such that they would share their experiences, and I could learn more from them.
Thank you all for your comments here, that have enriched me once again, as an octagenarian, still appreciating, still learning what little I can about war and about the peace that follows.
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One other thought:
Please think of all the clients in the VA Community Living Centers (weasel words for the onsite long-term nursing homes, now that calling them such is verboten) who in this COVID epidemic have of necessity even less attention from casual visitors or volunteers veterans organization groups than before. It surely is a hard time for them, who have served, and for their regular attendants as well (I'm speaking as a former VAVMS participant and DAV Auxiliary member.)
Ping to Post #59
Thank you for your kind words, undeserving as I am of them. You appear to be what any honorable man aspires to be. I thank you for your service, and for your gentle reminder of HOW and WHERE we stand in the big picture.
Thank-you for sharing that story. Once again FR provides either first person on 2nd person insight into obscure historical events that would have been lost other wise.
“Thank you all for your comments here, that have enriched me once again, as an octogenarian, still appreciating, still learning what little I can about war and about the peace that follows.”
We share some common interests.