WWII

My 60-Year Affair With The World’s Oldest Profession; Betty, Part I

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Allen’s Airborne enlistment poster (Skit Nite) is an art form I never get tired of admiring, especially leggy women. It also put me in mind of a story that’s been dancing around in my head for a long time. It actually started on a military note, World War II, well sort of, then swerved way back to Mexico, then back to the Army and Korea, then ending up in Russia and the Balkans, with short stops in a host of other countries.

And it was ...

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A Story about Meeting the Commander of PT-109, as told to me

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(This story was provided to me by the son of a man who skippered an 85-foot Rescue Boat, an extended modification of the famous PT Boat. He was one of the early sponsors of this site, and goes only by the name “Proud American”.

(There were various sizes of Rescue Boats, the majority 63-footers. And only 2260 servicemen served, so a rare treat indeed to be able to remember this service. They are collectively remembered at Continue Reading →

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The Flying Prostitute, The Martin B-26 Bomber

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An introduction to a line of stories about the world’s oldest profession and its relationship with military men every where.

The Martin B-26 was a 2-engine medium bomber, serving from 1942 to 1945. It llargely supported ground operations in the Pacific and Mediterranean theaters of combat.

Because of its huge fuselage and, by comparison, smaller wings, it was affectionately referred to by ground troops in North Africa, Sicily and Italy as “the flying prostitute”.

Why? Wait for it.

No Visible Means of Support.

 

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The Death of Captain Waskow by Ernie Pyle

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At the Front Lines in Italy, January 10th, 1944 . . .

In this war I have known a lot of officers who were loved and respected by the soldiers under them. But never have I crossed the trail of any man as beloved as Capt. Henry T. Waskow of Belton, Texas.

Capt. Waskow was a company commander in the 36th Division. He had led his company since long before it left the States. He was very young, only in his middle ...

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Uncle Hank and The Combat Infantryman’s Badge

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Before I attended kindergarten my “Uncle Hank” used to stop at the house every afternoon and take me with him to “help” with chores.  He was actually my mother’s uncle, my grandfather’s brother.  He kept feeder cattle in the barn and pasture at the house we lived in.  In the winter time mom would start dressing me ten minutes before he arrived, he’d knock and enter and sip a cup of hot coffee while he waited for a four year ...

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