Posted on 05/25/2005 8:31:47 AM PDT by redrock
"Once Upon a Time.......a Polack,an American and a German were going to be shot by a firing squad. When the American was about to be shot he shouted out "Tornado!". So the whole firing squad ran...and the American escaped. The next day the German was about to be shot when he yelled "Tidal Wave" and the whole firing squad ran....and the German escaped. The next day the Polack was going to be shot. The firing squad was all lined up and just as they were aiming....he yelled out "Fire"."
I have never met anyone as happy as Stan.
The guy NEVER (and it wasn't forced) was not laughing...or telling jokes...(usually Polack jokes...but then, as he explained it,...."Kid...with a last name like Wierzbowski...I'm allowed")...or just grinning.
Nothing seemed to bring him down.
Which, for a man in an Iron Lung,....was remarkable.
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I was ten....and my dad was going back into the V.A. Hospital for some more work on his body...trying to fix some problems that arose from him being in a wheelchair. (see last years Memorial Day thread "The Luckiest Boy in the World" for more)
He was going to a new ward....and the first person I saw on that ward....was Stan. Laying there in his Iron Lung.....cracking jokes left and right...(usually with half a dozen people gathered around)....and just being happy.
For the next 7 years....visiting my dad whenever he was in the V.A.Hospital (off and on) wasn't as hard as it could have been...because there was always Stan...and his jokes.....and his silly grin.
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"Two Polish hunters were driving thru the country to go Bear hunting. They came upon a fork in the road where a sign said 'Bear Left'.
So they went home......"
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When I was 17....I enlisted in the Army. After Basic....and Med. Training...I was being sent to Vietnam.I was saying my "Goodbyes" to all the old soldiers...sailors...airmen that I had come to know in the Hospital...when I came across Stan. He wasn't laughing...and he wasn't smiling.
He looked at me and just asked..."So....you going to war??"
I said something along the lines of.."Well...I'm going to be a Medic...so it should be ok." (What a dumb....dumb...dumb statement!!)
"Kiddo...let's talk....."
So...we spent the next couple of hours talking. Stan told me of when he was 17...and enlisted in the Marines.
WWII was on....and "Everyone had to do their part".
Of going thru training....and being assigned to the 28th Marine Regiment. Of the constant training...and, when they had passes, of the constant partying....and drinking. But as he put it...."Hey...we were Marines....and 18."
Then of being put on a ship...and of sailing for days on the ocean. Finally arriving off of some island in the Pacific. One with a funny looking mountain at one end.
Iwo.
Of how the 'old-timers' ("20 year olds....") kept saying that it didn't look good. That this was going to be a tough nut to crack. Of how the fear was a constant and ever-present companion.
Then the landing....Japanese machine guns and artillery just pounding the beach....and killing Marines. Of finally getting a small foothold....and of breathing a sigh of relief when he could spend a few minutes without being shot at.
He spent 32 days on the island...fighting. Always near someone who died...or was wounded. But he never was hurt....never even got a flesh wound. (one that would at least got him some hot food.)
"Kiddo...keep your head down when you get there...and you'll be ok."
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About a year after I got back from Vietnam....Stan passed away. The disease that put him in an Iron Lung....finally won.
So I put on my Dress Uniform (he would have like that)..and went to his funeral. I was amazed at the number of people present (or maybe I really wasn't after I thought about it). Most of the older crowd also had on their old uniforms. Couple of Colonels....lots and lots of Sgt.'s. I was asked to be a pall-bearer.
When I got close to the casket.....I noticed something that made me start to tear up a little...(or maybe it was just the Santa Ana winds...and all that dust).
For on his coffin was something that Stan NEVER talked about.
A Silver Star. His Silver Star.
After the funeral....I asked some of the old Sgt.'s about it.
On Iwo....Stan's platoon had been pinned down by 2 machine guns. Machine guns that were doing damage...and killing his friends. So...he crawled as close as he could to the first....threw a grenade and killed those Japanese firing on his platoon. This allowed the rest of his platoon to get the other site.
It sounds so simple. But it was 50 yards to the first machine gun site...and he was under constant fire from both sites . How he never got hit....is a miracle.
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Q: How do you tell which is the Groom at a Polish Wedding??
A: He's the one in the CLEAN bowling shirt.
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The Jokes I have put on this thread are the ones I remember from Stan.
So...if in your neighborhood...someone is telling jokes....listen.
For that person telling you jokes...and making you laugh...may just be an American Hero.......
"Kiddo....I'm still alive...and that's good enough"
This weekend...go to the Veterans Hospital...visit some of those still alive...you'll be happier for the effort.
redrock
redrock
redrock
redrock
Thanks for the ping!
Excellent.
redrock
LOL my dad used to tell some jokes. Couldn't help but laugh.
redrock
The only Polish joke I know is: Andrew Gollotta!
redrock
Gee, I wonder why so many people think Republicans are bigots?
redrock
Only the small minded....unsure of themselves.....politically correct idiots...think that.
redrock
Two Pollacks were out hunting. The followed a set of tracks into a cave...and shot a train!
Bump for our Heroes ~ Past ~ Present ~ Future!
redrock
Why aren't we PC today!. Fortunately many the men and women in WWII who fought so hard to protect your PC butt would not be afraid to call a spade a spade. Their children? ...Not so fortunate and we are reaping the benefits as we speak.
redrock
So, he shot her.
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