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Thank you.

My great uncle was a mule-skinner at the beginning of WWII. They were attached to the clavary units. The mules were used to pull the artillery. Of course, early on they decided to replace the mules with jeeps, and disbanded the calvary.

I remember him saying that the mule-skinners sorta shrugged, they were just mules. But those though guys in the calvary, they cried when they had to put their horses down.

Interesting.

My grandfather's WWII story has a little twist to it. He was drafted and sent into the infantry. He was standing guard one night, in the rain, at a base in CA, with a wooden gun, when an officer came by and stopped. Turned and looked at him. Then told him to follow.

In the Officer's dimmly lit office, he asked my grandfather if he wasn't an airplane mechanic. (He was, as that's what he'd been schooled in before the war started.) The officer asked if he'd wanted to be in the infantry. He said no. The officer pulled paperwork out of his desk and transfered him to the Army Air Corp. It's then that my grandfather realized this officer was a guy he'd met before. He was a test pilot who'd taken my grandfather up to use as counter-weight during a flight.

The manuevers the pilot was doing were too intense, and my grandfather needed to get out. The pilot landed in the middle of nowhere, let him out and told him to wait there and he'd be back for him, then took off again. Of course the pilot did come back for him.

Cool.

My grandfather reminded me today while we were visiting at the cemetery over grandmother's grave, that his brother-in-law had run a flame thrower through the campaign in the Philippines. He never really would talk about that part of his life. I don't think he wanted to relive the memories of throwing fire into bunkers and dugouts.

Grandfather laments that some of those stories were lost with his brother-in-law's death. He also reminded me that his brother-in-law refused a purple heart, as did other men he knew went overseas. Including a good friend of his who make it all the way through the European theatre, including storming the beaches at Normandy. During the Battle of the Bulge, his friend got his thumb caught in the breach of his 50-cal machine gun. He refused a purple heart, because he didn't want his wife and family back home to think he'd gotten a horrid, debilitating wound.

Understandable.

Yeah. But, I'm sorry he didn't feel he could share them. It'd be good if we had someone reminding us of what we'd once done, so we could think twice before doing it again. :-/

Yep.

He looks a lot like my old bus driver

I WW2 re-enactments, perhaps some day i might take part in one but from what i've heard the kit is expensive, my mate bought various items that came to about £1000+

Yeah, the kit is pricey.