August 13, 2009
An hour later I'm sitting in my dad's kitchen, one day after my birthday, which was also the anniversary of the Nagasaki bombing. He tells me he'd been contacted to add some recollections - if he had any - of rescuing prisoners of war from Formosa. As it happened, he did. Like all the other stories, I'd never heard this one; he never talks about it. Part of it had to do with sparing the kids the horror stories and putting it all behind him, but on the other hand I've never met anyone who lives in the present like my Dad. He's not one for backward glances. Which is why his peers doze in Barcaloungers, and he hits the highway on his Harley.
Posted by Vanderleun at August 13, 2009 12:43 AM. This is an entry on the sideblog of American Digest: Check it out.
Your Say
I read the article that James posted before coming here. There is a common refrain running through all of these postings, where a relative has been in some horrifying thing during World War II; they never talk about it.
I mean no offense to anyone from this observation: Perhaps if the cost, if the personal horror stories had been told, perhaps the idea of making nice to first-class bastards wouldn't have such a draw.
I am likely wrong - the camps were liberated and it was all put on film. And it was ignored.
And the healthcare czars want to get us back on the road to Treblinka. Again.
Posted by: Mikey NTH at August 13, 2009 6:06 PM
But I like his dad's shop - good and clean, with everything squared away properly. There is value in that, though I can't quite say why.
Posted by: Mikey NTH at August 13, 2009 6:07 PM