Grandad never told me squat about the campaigns. He always spoke in broad terms, political and humanitarian terms about the area.
He was a lowly cook was what he would say.
Some in my family looked on that as an easy day, but I know it is no small feat to feed men in the Burmese jungle. They say Merill’s men lost 25 lbs.
The cook was hardly loved L0L.
I think Grandpa got the roll of cook simply because he was a good hunter and could make due.
They had nothing but was air lifted in.
You see the bamboo canisters on the parachutes and on the pack mules? that was the airlift.
All he brought home was one empty bamboo canister, its accompanying parachute, a jap flag and a jap sword.
I took those things to show and tell as a kid.
We were passing that dirty old sword around the class room when some of the kids noticed a ruddy color on their hands.
We thought it was rust. It was blood, coagulated on the blood runner for all those years and released by the sweaty little palms of those kids that day.
He is gone now, and so are all those things.
No one in my family understood the weight of those items except me.
Thank you for your service Old China Hand.
I understand, I am the family historian; a job that may one day be appreciated.
....and a cbkaty Salute to your Grandad is in order...!
My Dad was never stationed in Burma, but I still retell my Uncle's stories of flying "the hump".... He insisted that they barely made the flight over the hump each time....and a rough ride it always was.