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Veteran's Day - The Mad Schemes of Dr. Tectonic [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]

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Veteran's Day [Nov. 11th, 2013|11:15 am]
In honor of Veteran's Day, I will share one of the very few stories I ever heard about WWII from my grandfather. My grandfather went off to fight in Europe while my Mom was still just a baby. I believe he fought in both D-Day and the Battle of the Bulge. He never really talked much about it, so this is pretty much the only first-hand story I have.

So at some point while he was over there, his outfit was under attack and an explosion went off from a shell or a grenade or something. And my grandfather was helping tend to the wounded, and they get this guy who is just covered on blood. Like, soaked, head to toe. And they think "Ohhhhh noooooo, I don't think we're gonna be able to save this guy." But they start cleaning him up anyway, to see what they can do. And cleaning him up, and cleaning him up, and there's nothing wrong, and they keep cleaning, and keep cleaning, and eventually they find that the only injury he has is a cut on his head from a piece of shrapnel, and all he needs is a couple stitches.

The moral of the story being, scalp wounds bleed a lot.

Anyway, a salute to all the veterans I know (and those I don't). War is stupid and horrible but sometimes unavoidable, and I'm thankful to everyone who's helped to keep the nastiness that drives it beaten down.

[User Picture]From: thedragonweaver
2013-11-12 04:58 am (UTC)
Story from my dad (Vietnam): There he was, overseas (I don't know if it were Vietnam or Guam), a freshly-made officer in a safe zone. And he had to drive an Official Vehicle from one base to another—something a little heavier-duty than a jeep. It's a long drive, he stops at a third base on the way, and enters the officers' canteen. Well, there's a bunch of older types there, and they see fresh new officer, so they call him over and hand him a bottle of strong alcohol. My dad knows two things: 1) He can drink about a finger's worth of alcohol and still be safe, and 2) If that liquor touches his mouth, his throat is going to close up, he'll choke, and he'll look like a fool in front of these other guys. Well, you know. Military machismo. So he tips his head back and pours it straight down his throat. He lowers it and the guys start cheering... at which point, he realizes that there's at least two, maybe three fingers of liquor gone.

So he had to call his destination and tell them he couldn't get the vehicle there, because he was incapacitated...
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