You should call these mothers and sisters and tell that their sons and brothers were just "a Polish joke" to you.
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.......
My oldest bother who recieved a few medals during a small UN police action that took place in Korea was a lot like Stan. He was always cracking jokes and pulling pranks especially with all the kids.
Political correctness is the real enemy.
Enjoyed that!
You should call these mothers and sisters and tell that their sons and brothers were just "a Polish joke" to you.
I love that one.
I always love football jokes because that was the only sport that I ever played where I was any good at it.
The Polish people have a long and proud history of being good fighters, good scientists and overall good people. They also have the unfortunate problem of being geographically in the wrong place. Germans on one side and Russians on the other. But the Poles are a great race.
Now when telling jokes the word is definitely Polack!
As I tell our EEO people here. I have a genetic license to tell Polack jokes.
Do you remember how the Poles had the best calvary in WWII? (no joke actually, they had a crack outfit but everyone else had tanks. a little late there)
You are an idiot, This newsgroup is read by our friends in poland. You are a fricking biggot and I hope they ban your pathetic ass.
'Polak' is the noun "Pole," 'Polski' is the adjective "Polish." I've tried to learn Polish, but I cannot keep up with all those darned cases and declinations. I can read it ok, can even understand when someone speaks, sometimes. But I don't think I'll ever be proficient enough to speak it.
Welcome to FreeRepublic, Pomian!
Because you are new here, please, allow me to step forward to say to you that the majority of FReepers *love* the Polish people. Poles are our FRiends, and we have been praying for Polish families and troops fighting beside the United States' in the middle east.
That said, all four of my greatgrandparents were born in Poland. I have always been proud of my heritage. Polish jokes have never offended me, because I grew up in a predominantly Polish town. Thinking back to my childhood, the majority of people who told Polish jokes were Polish-Americans. That is just my experience.
The only groups of people that you'll see FReepers making fun of are the ones who are selfish, self-centered and have no hearts -- for example, most Democrats and the French. FReepers know that the Poles are loving, faithful, faith-filled people.
Ping!
I grew up on the south side of Milwaukee. Where Polish flags are routinely flown side byside (but slightly lower) with US flags. Most people told Polack jokes
Our favorite people to tell jokes to were the rare ones who got offended at Polack jokes. We'd bombard them unmercifully. But how can you get upset at someone telling a Polack joke when their name ends in SKI CZAK or has 15 letters and no vowels. Genetic license beats offense any day.
Here's a few I remember
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The US, Russian and Polish space agencies were at a conference laying out their plans for future exploration. The US presented first. In the next ten years we will place a man on the moon. Oh that's nothing declared the Russians. We will place a man on mars!
The Polacks said, you guys are slacker's. We're going to the sun.
The Sun! the rest of them cried. You'll be burned up.
That's where you're wrong said the Polacks. We're going at night!
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Do you know what the Polack did with his first fifty cent piece? He married her! (please don't tell me wife)
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How do you get a one armed polack out of a tree? Wave at him!
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A black, an italian and a polack were applying for the French Foreign legion. As part of their entry exam they were asked what one item they would take if they were going to be stranded in the desert for three days.
The black said I'd take a huge watermelon so that when I got hot and thirsty I could eat it and be both fed and rehydrated
The Italian said he'd take a magnum bottle of vino so he could drink it when he got thirsty
The Polack said he'd take a car door.
A car door? why would you take a car door?
If it got too hot I could roll down the window
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A German and a Polack went hunting. They decided to hunt on different sides of a small country road so there'd be no chance of shooting each other.
After walking for a while Jan saw a 8 point buck and dropped him right behind an old outhouse. He gutted him and dragged the carcass back to the car.
Meanwhile Stan got himself turned around and crossed the road. And shortly found himself reacting violently to the triple kishka sandwhich he ahd for breakfast. Fortunately he stummbled upon this old outhouse and relieved himself somewhat explosively
Back at the car Jan is waiting for Stan. Time passed. And passed again. Finally, four hours after they were supposed to meet up Stan comes staggering up to the car from the wrong side of the road.
"Stan were have you been"
"I'm sorry Jan but I s%$t my guts out and had to stuff them back in"
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How do you keep a Polack in suspense?
I'll tell you tomorrow
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Everyone knows that almost all Germans are named Karl. Well in WWII The poles took advantage of this fact. The Poles would try to get the Germans to stand up by yelling "Hey Karl"
Well the Germans, knowing that almost all Poles were named Stashu would yell back "Is that you Stashu?"
After which half the Polish troups would stand up and say "ya what do you want?"
Bang.
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Then there was that one battle where the Polacks would toss sticks of dynamite at the krauts and the krauts would light them and throw them back
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More as I remember them.
"But I don't think I'll ever be proficient enough to speak it."
I appreciate your information. Stay at it. You'll learn. Guy I met told me his grandmother, she's 72, has started studying Mandarin. Would like to go to China to visit the town where her great-grandmother served as a missionary, and she wants to be able to communicate with the folks above being able to say "Glad to meet you" and so forth.
So we should stop being who we are just becasue some one might get offended? Thats' how we got into this mess this country is in. Political correctness has destroyed this land and will finish the job if we give in to it.
I'm polish (lots of letters in a last name ending in ski. And I tell Polack jokes.
BTW Do you know why polacks spell their names ending in ski?
Because they can't spell tobagon
LJ, you aren't just a comedian...
You're one of a kind, outstanding in your field, the penultimate among giants...ummmm...or something like that.
God Bless you for all you do.
Ditto to redrock!
i resemble that comment, as i've bled ORANGE since i got big enough to bend my 2 middle fingers DOWN.
free dixie,sw
Baby, you light me up! Your saying things like that is one of the reasons I love you and your beautiful family so much! Thank you.
It isn't derogatory po polsku -- in Polish. Polak = Polish man (plural - polacy); Polka = Polish woman; Polski = Polish as an adjective.
DUMBbunny!
free dixie,sw
Very interesting.
A Polish friend told me the one about the dishonest Polak who opened a small loan office. He loaned out all his money and then skipped town.
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