My dad was a very popular teacher. His students loved him, and loved how he pretended to be gruff on the outside. He had a way of explaining math that made it understandable to most, and was willing to work with students who had a hard time with it.
He was an old softy on the inside.
Because of this, he didn't like to talk about his experiences in World War II.
Dad initially was drafted and he managed to get into the Army Air Corp before the President eliminated it. So after spending some time at Bangor in Washington State, he was shipped overseas to Germany.
The only story I ever heard him tell about that was being under the floorboards of a house as German soldiers walked above him, looking for Americans. I do know that whenever Walter Cronkite's "20th Century" was on,
he would get up and leave the room, rather than stick around and re-live the experiences of the war.
He was fortunate that 4 months after he arrived in Europe, the War came to a close. Because he did not have enough "points" to go home, he was assigned to be a Quartermaster, headquartered at the Hotel Negresco in Nice, Italy.
Years later, he and my mother were at a dance, seated with a rather wealthy couple. The name of the Hotel Negresco came up as the couple told about all their fancy vacations there. My Dad spoke up and said, " I spent 6 months at the Negresco!"
The couple stared at him, taking in his older looking suit, obviously a person NOT from money.
In a voice dripping with sarcasm, the wife asked, " Tell me. How is it that YOU came to stay at the Hotel Negresco?"
My father flashed her a smile and said, "My Uncle sent me!"
A look of joy spread over the woman's face as she clasped her hands together in glee. " Oh MY!! Isn't that NICE!!!!!"
Happy Veteran's Day, Dad. I miss you.