100% True War Stories As Told By 25 Redditors
Wars are probably the scariest events mankind has ever witnessed. While all of us are fascinated by the bravery and valor of soldiers who fight it out on the war front to ensure the safety of our borders and loved ones, have any of you ever wondered the kind of emotional and mental turmoil these brave men must go through when at the battlefield? Let us not even talk about the physical torture they are subjected to if captured by the enemy! Sympathizing with our army men and their families is the least we can do. After all (and this may sound cliché to some of you but is true nonetheless), they play an inevitable role in ensuring that you and your friends and family enjoy a peaceful sleep night after night!
Many of us must have heard crazy as well as scary war stories from a family member or a friend’s relative or a neighbor who was once a part of the army! More often than not, most war stories are capable of giving you the chills! Honestly speaking, every time we hear a true war story, we miserably fail at stopping ourselves from getting overwhelmed. What about you guys?
Aren’t you all already in the mood for some awesome war stories? We have curated a list of 25 100% true war stories shared by some of our Redditors! Read on and thank us later!!
Terror Strikes At Night
“So i had an older relative pass away recently that was drafted into the army in ww2. Keep in mind I’ve never served so i might get some of the terminology wrong. He would talk about his was experiences, but never about what happened on Okinawa. He would always say that its not a story that people should hear. Before he passes he finally told us. First a little background, my relative, well call him Karl for the purpose of this story was from a small town and went to a church where it was expected that all men serving in the military were to be conscientious objectors on religious grounds. And so he was. He was trained to be a medic in the army. So he was drafted in mid 1944 and got to Okinawa in mid April 1945. He told us as a medic he didn’t carry a weapon, but his unit was short on riflemen at the time so his CO gave him the option to trade in his med kit for gun if he wanted but always declined. Now one night he was with his squad and he was dressing some minor wounds from the previous day while they dug their fox homes for the night when they heard women screaming come from a shelled out village a few hundred yards away. He said it wasn’t ordinary screaming, but that of pure pain and terror like he’d never heard before or again. As it was night and the squad leader feared it was a Japanese trap they decided not to investigate until the morning. Next morning they went to go scout out the village. They found the bodies of 5 local women tied to a trees by their hands and feet, but not just any women, these were pregnant women. The Japanese soldiers had bound these women to trees, tied their legs together with rope and beat their stomachs to force them to go into labor to make them scream in order to dry the American troops into a trap. All the women had died, and all of their babies had died as well. This put Karl over the edge. He said you can’t be a conscientious objector if your enemy isn’t even human. So he went to his CO and traded in his med supplies for a rifle. Karl looked each of us in the eye and said he regrets doing many things in his life but all the people he killed on that damn island isn’t one of them. He was very descriptive telling his story, like he just lived it yesterday, so I’ve left those details out.” (PaganFlyswatter)
Brave Dutch Family
“(UK) I would like to apologize for the lack of detail and errors but the story in question was told to me by my grandfather and not my great grandfather.
During WW2 my great grandfather served in both Africa and Europe. Whilst he was involved in the first assault of ‘Operation Market Garden’ his squad was facing overwhelming odds to defeat the well dug in/supplied Wermacht forces in the city of Nijmegen (Netherlands).
Being unable to defeat the enemy and because of the unpredicted delay in the allied advance my G.grandfather’s squad was overwhelmed by the Germans.
Now by all accounts of what I’ve been told, the likelihood of his capture and imprisonment was unlikely as by the end of the war, the ‘Geneva Convention’ wasn’t really a concern for the Germans. Chances are, he would’ve been captured and executed. However during the chaos he managed to escape and find shelter in a Dutch family’s basement. The family in question proceeded to hide my grandfather until the city was liberated.
It got me and a few other family members thinking that if it wasn’t for the resolve of the US armored division and the brave Dutch family who protected him, I probably wouldn’t be here today. (My grandfather wasn’t born until in 1947)
I’ll probably never find any relatives of the people who saved him but I can only offer my profound gratitude for what they did for my family.” (Terrible_Unit)
Little Kid Loses His Life
“I served in Afghanistan, I was on sentry in our 100mx100m 30 infantryman patrol base.
I watched a boy of around 8-9 herding goats. Either he or a goat very close to him triggered an IED that must have been there for some time.
We had our patrol sections on the ground at the time so with the skeleton unit we had we didn’t have the platoon strength to deploy outside the compound wall. I watched as locals took a long time to respond to this boy no more than 150m from me.
Eventually they brought him to our PB. I was a sniper but had completed the team medic course and between me and another guy we received him at the rear gate.
They brought him and the remainder of his detached foot in a wheelbarrow. A family member, I believe it was his father was immensely distressed as we began doing what we could.
I knew from the moment I saw him in that wheelbarrow that he wouldn’t survive. I had seen a few blasts on fellow soldiers already. There was a clear lack of blood in the wheelbarrow and the heat from the blast hadn’t done anything to burn the wound which could have stemmed some blood. I worked on that boy to make his last moments as comfortable as possible. He died shortly after the casualty evac heli had taken off.
I did and saw a lot during my time in various places around the world but since having a son, the pain I saw in that fathers face that day has stayed with me.
Thank you if you read it this far.” (adamski3002)
French Are Pretty Tough Too
“My grandfather joined the Legion in 1980, at the age of 39, a year below the maximum age limit for enlisting. Despite being an old man by military standards, he ran laps around the younger guys. Being in the British Army for 5 years where he fought in the Aden Emergency, as well as spending some time in Vietnam within the 5 years he served in United States Army made him a very experienced soldier. Even for him, the training and rigors he was put through within the Legion tested him to the limits. It was pretty common for him to get slapped, punched and kicked for making simple mistakes in the French language. One time he even got some of his teeth knocked out!” (FreedomEagle76)
All Hail Humanity
“So this is a story about my great grandfather.
He was a soldier who fought against Russia during WWII and got separated from other German soldiers during combat. It was winter at the time and he was wandering alone without enough food, searching for his troops when he encountered two Russian soldiers. One was a typical eastern-Europe looking Russian, the other almost Asian. When they saw him the Asian looking guy attacked him while screaming that he’s going kill him if he has a tattoo (All SS-Soldiers had a signature tattoo under their armpits). The other guy held him back. They took my great grandfathers weapons and dragged him into a bombed houses basement where they would proceed to search his belongings and to look if he had a tattoo (which he didn’t). But suddenly his family photo fell out of his jacket. It shows him, his wife and their eight children.
They looked at it in disbelief. They told him that SS-Soldiers killed the Asian guy’s family and that he should go home to his family to care for them. They even gave him food as they sent him on his way…
That story was told by my grandmother and I think that is the most humane thing I ever heard.” (c_drommedar)
Ambushed By The Taliban
“I was a sniper attached to an infantry section on patrol. We were a 30 man platoon on foot in our AO in sangin.
The ambush started with two children who had been following us but at a distance darted away as we came to a junction in the road. Our lead man, we referred to this position in the patrol the ‘sandbag’ noticed this and stopped, immediately followed by the remote detonation of an IED hidden right before the junction.
I was around 4th man in the patrol. I had a couple of close blasts in my time overseas but this one took the biscuit. Once my balance, hearing had cleared I could hear the crack of rounds inbound. The dust and debris kicked up makes visibility zero. The threat of a secondary device that daisy chains the first explosion & is typically triggered by a pressure plate makes you think twice about moving until you’re sure.
Once I could see I realized there was no one in front of me standing and two guys had hobbled back down the line despite their injuries.
We drew back up the route we had come. It was a road with high walls but it was short and with the casualties we bunched up.
A volley of grenades came over the wall, men scattered out of formation as they scrambled for cover.
We were at risk of being pinned down so we opted to get the casualties on stretchers and carry them out with a shell of troop protection. As we made our way forward down this proven booby trapped lane we were free to move unimpeded for a time.
As a final insult the Taliban had chosen a particular spot to pin us with gunfire and attempt another volley of grenades over the wall. We returned some of our own in reply.
We made arrangements for heli extraction of the injured. A chinook turned up, one of ours, British.
After small arms and RPG fire the Chinook swiftly left. All I can say about the next part is god bless the yanks! Call sign Pedro, an American Blackhawk extraction team came in under fire and got our wounded out.
We fought our way back to our PB. Later that evening a large crowd of people arrived at our gate carrying dead under blankets. When we returned the grenades over the wall we hadn’t realized that this was the main play for the enemy in the whole ambush.
The last volley of grenades was thrown from a road running parallel to the one we were tracking down. Separating the two was a family compound. They knew we would likely inflict damage to this community. Being only a few weeks into the tour we hadn’t the knowledge we needed to know this wasn’t coming straight over the wall from the other side.
The mission to win support of the local population was paramount from this point forward, it cost us in blood time and time again with some locals helping the Taliban, some sympathetic to our cause.” (adamski3002)
Sometimes Help Doesn’t Come
“Most of us say that we are helpless at one time or another in our lives. One instance I experienced as a combat medic in Vietnam made these words a vivid reality. As a ‘corpsman’ (Navy combat medic assigned to a Marine unit), we are taught to use all the ‘tools of the trade’, such as serum albumin (blood volume expander), battle dressings, and morphine to save our patient and return him to fight another day. We are taught how to treat for shock, stop bleeding and splint broken bones. We are taught personal survival, radio procedures, and how to signal a helicopter to a safe place for patient ‘medivac’. After all this training, I thought I was prepared for anything. I had just graduated from field med school in Camp LeJeune, N.C. I was assigned to Lima company, 3rd BN, 4th Marines, 3rd Division operating in the South Vietnam jungle along the demilitarized zone (DMZ). I was God. Nothing could convince me otherwise. This Marine company was battle-hardened and returning from a week of a rather uneventful patrol during the height of the TET (Vietnamese New Year) just at dusk. We were about two miles from our base camp in an especially wooded area. We were hit by small arms fire from three sides. We had two choices, neither of which were pleasant; either stand and fight, or go forward deeper into the jungle which the enemy controlled (a very risky proposition). The decision came by radio to stand and fight. Our first casualty was a young Marine who had only week left and he would return home to his young wife in the United States. He was shot in the front left shoulder with a dum-dum (expanding or exploding bullet) which exited his right lower back. His injury was major, even under ideal conditions. It was now complicated by cold wet rain, darkness, a green combat corpsman, and the unseen higher authority who told us to ‘stand and fight’, as well as the unseen enemy all around us. Blood is gushing out of this massive wound, blood that I, with all my knowledge, skill and equipment, could not stop. I was utterly powerless to stem the flow of life as it ran in little red rivers through fingers to the jungle floor. His head was resting on my lap, asking for help I could not give, waiting for a chopper that couldn’t, and wouldn’t arrive. I felt so helpless to do what I was trained to do, yet knowing that whatever I did, he would die regardless. His name — CPL Lynal Jenkens. I’m sorry!” (KE6RAV)
City Of The Dead
“I was always intrigued in war stories. And when a war broke out in 2014 on my homeland and my uncle volunteered to go fight the Russian separatists I couldn’t wait for the war stories. Unfortunately he never talked about it and yelled at me one time for asking about it. Then one night, 2 years ago I got a Skype call from him. He seemed depressed and was probably drunk. He told me this story: Sometime in winter 2015 my uncle was called in to a city called Adviivka in order to be part of a group that was supposed secure 3 blocks and report where Russian artillery was shooting from. As soon as he drove in the city he made sure to tell me it smelled like rot and as if someone had threw up all over the city. It was completely empty on the streets with faceless bodies lying around from artillery shelling. When they started clearing apartment buildings they whipped open a room with an old man without a hand. They helped him up but he refused help and cussed him and his soldiers out claiming it was them who did this. They called in a medivac and to take the old man to a hospital. As soon as the medical car pulled in a sniper shot a soldier 3 feet from my uncle. And everyone ducked behind the car. The driver was a recruit jumped out and got shot in the face as he got out. Instant death right in front of my uncle’s eyes. So for 3 hours he and 2 other soldiers and the grandpa sat behind a car trying to not poke their heads out. Then shelling started again on the city. And don’t forget my uncle is right in the middle of the street sitting behind a car. He recalls shrapnel and dust flying around and missing his head by inches. The grandpa probably had a weak heart and just passed out on the floor. My uncle and the soldiers realized they didn’t have to take care of him and just left him by running to the nearest door. When they got to cover inside the man woke up and started screaming. The shelling by then had stopped and the grandpa wanted to leave. My grandpa and the 2 other soldiers begged him to stay so he wouldn’t get shot. “He didn’t listen, got up and got shot right in the chest” after seeing 3 deaths happen that day my uncle lost it. For the next week in adviivka he and his platoon looked for that sniper. They never found him.” (12042003Bs)
Tribal Scare For The Doctors
“As a member of 2e Régiment Étranger d’Infanterie(2nd Foreign Infantry Regiment or 2REI), my grandfather was sent to Central Africa in the 80s. Below is an interesting story from his time in Central Africa:
One of their missions tasked them with escorting French doctors fairly deep into the jungle, where the doctors had to give injections the tribe since there was fear of a disease spreading. Before they set off they were given strict instructions to not look at the woman. This tribe, like most, was extremely protective of their woman, so you would have to quickly divert your eyes as they walked past you. If not, you would find a spear being thrust through you. This wasn’t what caused the flashpoint though. All was going well until it was time to the wife of the tribe’s chief to receive her injection. Needless to say, she didn’t react very well and ended up passing out. Thinking some kind of black magic was afoot, the chief was enraged, as far as he was concerned the French had just murdered his wife(he did have another one, but this one was his favorite) My grandfather could already sense what was about to happen. He flicked the fire selector to automatic, pushed the doctor out of the way(narrowly avoiding a spear in the chest himself) and demanded that the chief lay his weapon down. By that time, the other Legionnaires had already got the other members of the tribe at gunpoint, where the French officer took over the situation. The tribe was disarmed until the doctors finished. Turns out the wife was fine, and they managed to calm the chief down when he saw that his favorite wife was all right. The French doctors and Legionnaires left the village soon after the doctors had vaccinated everyone. Nobody on either side was injured. My grandfather won a commendation for stopping the doctor from getting speared, which might have caused a massacre if it was allowed to happen.” (FreedomEagle76)
Coffee Breaks Are Life Saving
“So here’s some pre-text. My grandfather started in a military academy in the Carolinas (I think) where he was trained as a cavalryman. The last Calvary class to ever be taught at that University; apparently he could pick a handkerchief off of the ground whilst at full gallop. He then was an ambulance driver in Spain during the whole Franco debacle. Upon hearing about Pearl Harbor he took a ship back to America and tried to join the Marine Corp but was too old. So he joined the merchant Marines as an engineer working in the engine rooms of the boats hauling troops and supplies into the pacific. He was sunk twice during the war and my mother retold the following story to me. He was working in the engine room and decided to take his coffee break a couple minutes early. Just as he got into the mess hall BAM a torpedo hit the engine room and the ship was sunk. So there’s a family saying “don’t forget to take your coffee break early!” (felcher_650)
Welcome To The Party
“On one week long mission in Afghanistan my team lead told us to start moving our trucks they get ready to pop smoke. So i jumped up into the truck my buddy jumped in the gunner position and we wanted for the jatac to get in and the dog to finish clear his stomach. As the dog was doing his thing my bag was resting on my buddies leg and we was yelling at me to move it and if it touched him he was going to punch me in the face. During this the dog got in with the handler and we started to move forward. Literally 3 feet where the dog took a dump we hit a doodle stack AT mine combo blowing the front end on the truck to pieces. I blacked out from the blast underneath my body and as I came to my senses, I took my hat off my head like a boss, looked back and said welcome to the party, as I said it I saw my buddy upside down with my bag on his head the jatac with a seatbelt on all snug and the dog sitting on the handlers chest….. To this day my buddy still introduces me as the idiot who got him blown up and wouldn’t move my damn bag and all he could say was welcome to the party.” (weatherman_31)
Cruelty At Its Best
“So just so y’all know my great grandfather and grandfather were both preachers. So my grandfather told me this story yesterday and wanted to share, So this was in about 1970 and my grandfather was working some job (I can’t remember what it was) and one of the guys he worked with was a WW2 veteran who my great-grandfather would always try to get to go to church and one day my grandfather told him he should really go to church when he told him he couldn’t because God would never forgive him for what he had done and to that day he still hated the Japanese, he said if he ever saw one he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from going up and killing him. So he started to tell my grandfather the story, He was in the Pacific and a patrol of about 5 men were sent to go do something like finding water I think and they never returned so they went up the way they went and found the Japanese soldiers who killed them so they shot at them and they ran off. And he said there was an awful smell coming from a pot being boiled and when they investigated they found out that the Japanese were cooking them and they could still see their body parts scattered around. He said he felt like going on a killing spree and he did the rest of the war he killed as many as he could. Sometime after telling my grandfather this he got cancer and ended up going to the church and my great-grandfather baptized him but he ended up dying that year.” (Unteroffizier_Winter)
Wars Are Lethal To Life
“During the beginning faze of the Croatian homeland war, my father (born in 1967) was part of the 3rd brigade the Kunas. He was also a host at a radio that was intended to encourage citizens. One day the city of Osijek (where it all was happening, also my hometown) was under artillery barrage. My father and uncle ran out of the basement where the radio was stationed and saw a man on the floor in front of one building. They took him, my dad by the legs and my uncle by the arms in the way that his head rested on my uncle’s chest. Soon he realized something was dropping and it was the guy’s brain. The shrapnel tore the rear part of his head off and spilled his brain out. My dad and uncle took him to the stairway of the building and called the ambulance to pick the guy up. My dad says its the only thing in that war that made him freeze for a moment and think about his life.” (Simeossi)
Killer Monkey On The Lose
“As a member of 2e Régiment Étranger d’Infanterie(2nd Foreign Infantry Regiment or 2REI), my grandfather was sent to Central Africa in the 80s. Below is an interesting story from his time in Central Africa:
One morning a hysterical and screaming woman ran to the gates of their garrison. The French officer was sent for where the woman begged for his help. An extremely aggressive monkey had jumped through an opening in her shack and started to attack her infant, unfortunately killing it and dragging it away into the trees. The French officer took some troop including my grandfather into the village to investigate the scene. They ended up finding the infant’s body not too far from the shack, but the problem was not solved. The Legionnaires could not let a killer monkey roam around, endangering the surrounding villages. Eventually, by tracking the blood trail from the monkey’s mouth they found it in a tree, where it was shot by the French officer with a shotgun, killing it. However, at the time the ration truck was delayed for a few days, so the French officer deiced to take the body of the monkey back to their base. It was then cut up and they were served monkey brains, which according to my grandfather is “the most disgusting thing I have ever eaten” (FreedomEagle76)
Inexperience Costs Lives
“So I got this story from my dad a couple of months ago. My Great-Uncle served in Vietnam with the 101st airborne I am not exactly sure when this happened but I know this happened near the demiliterized zone on the North Vietnam side.
His old lieutenant had just been killed in a VC ambush and they got a new lieutenant that come out of (idk what he went through but he was automatically a lieutenant so ima call it boot camp) boot camp so he was very inexperienced. One day while they were on patrol his Lieutenant leading the group triggered a Bouncing Betty killing his lieutenant and the other two guys in front of him. To this day my Great-Uncle still has metal fragments from that bouncing Betty and bone fragments from the men in front of him in his body.
Thank you for taking time to read this and thank you to all the veterans who have served in any war.” (ExceedingCanine)
One From German Persecution
“This was in World War 2 and the Germans had already invaded Belgium the story takes place in an apartment.
My gramps woke up one night by Germans busting down the door next door, the home of a Jewish family. My gramps did know the kid but he had a neighbor upstairs that kid was about 10 years older than him. The kid from upstairs and Jewish kid were very close. They used to play on ice skates they’ll take turns on the skates. So when the kid upstairs here’s the Jewish kid getting dragged out the building he said he could have the skates the Germans took it with them never to be seen again.” (kek3879)
Lucky Escapes At The Battlefield
“My friend’s grandfather was in the Pakistani army a long time ago. He told me a profound short story in which his grandfather escaped death twice. Once, when him and his platoon were moving through the battlefield and avoiding enemies, they decided to sleep under a building that had seen better days. A bomb had landed in the area and turned the place into rubble. Luckily, they slept right under something that was covering them and the building rubble did not drop on them. The second time was even crazier. The battlefield was under bombing and a truck had come to pick up the soldiers. He jumped onto the truck to escape but then another soldier had pushed him off in attempt to steal his place. Only some seconds later another bomb fell and landed directly on the truck… his time to go wasn’t written yet. Later on in his life he never spoke about the horrors of war in detail and passed away on his bed.” (AbuBakr1892)
No Injuries And Magical Escape
“Boy do I have a story for you. My great Grandfather (on my dad’s side) fought in WW2 for the Romanian military. He was the leader of a group of soldiers (I am not familiar with Romanian rankings or how many he was in charge of). My dad says that he never liked to talk about the war, but here are some stories that I have heard over the years. My grandpa fought in the mountains, and people in his group were freezing to death. The soldiers were more scared of his whip, than they were of deserting. Despite fighting on the front lines for the entire war, he had no injuries. However, a bullet ricochets off of the binoculars he wore over his chest. We still have the binoculars to this day. They are dented, there is a hole in the leather case, and a lens is cracked. Unfortunately the binoculars are still in Romania. If this gets enough attention, I will include a picture of them next time I see them. I am proud to be named after my grandfather, Mircea Ghetu.” (Mircea_G)
Unheard Story About Dad
“It was after Dad died that I heard a story he had never told. The guy telling it to me had been the CIA station chief in Saigon during the war. He walked up to me during the wake and gave me a once over. He didn’t look impressed. “So you’re his son?” He asked. I said yes. “I was with your Dad on Iwo Jima,” the man continued. He had white hair and a fairly cynical expression. The Washington sunlight was dimming. We had spent the afternoon at Arlington and now that the ceremony was over we had retired to Dad’s house near Bethesda. “We were in the Fifth Marine Division,” the man continued. “Your Dad was in a fox hole with his friend, a guy named Vecsey. A mortar landed in the foxhole and blew both of Vecsey’s arms off and one leg.” The older man studied my expression, knowing how unprepared I had to have been in listening to his story. “Your Dad got up out of the foxhole and started walking around, calling for a medic.” His face adopted a scornful look, as if Dad had temporarily lost his mind. Lost his cool. Become another person. The man looked around at the other people in the room and walked away. My father had never told me anything about it. I never saw the guy again. This story happened in the nineties.” (frapawhack)
Not So Happy Ending
“After the end of my Great Uncles service in WWII. His crew in the (Jaunty Jo B-25 of the 498th Bombardment Squadron of the 345th Bombardment Group) flew back to a base (some where in California) flew under the Golden Gate Bridge. They all got dishonorably discharged.” (Pachysletsplays)
Kind Japanese Soldier
“This story is long so I apologize for that. Now this didn’t happen to me but it happened to my grandfather so some of might not make sense due to the fact that he forgot some of this and the fact he didn’t want to tell me. Now to give you some back story my grandfather was born in 1916 and recently passed away and I thought this would be a great way to remember him. So this happened to him in 1944 during the battle of peleliu he was part of the 1st marine division and was a combat medic so he told me.
Now at that time World War 2 was happening and my grandfather told me that he didn’t want to go to war but he’d figured that since his brothers are serving. He’d thought why not. Unfortunately his older brother was killed in battle and that left him heartbroken but more determined than ever to fight.
Now my grandfather told me he was one of the toughest s.o.bs around and he’d took a bullet to the side and just brushed it off (good old grandpa am I right) but he told me that during peleliu it was hell.
After my grandfathers brothers encouraged him to sign up he was shipped out to Camp Pendleton for basic and was put into the 1st usmc division their job was to take the airfield at peleliu for their bombers to take out Japanese territory’s and Japan itself.
My grandfather was told this would take a couple of days but it ended up lasting for a couple of months. Anyways after he was on the beach heads his platoon was ordered to clear out remaining Japanese forces in the area but the problem with that was that they were dug in by caves and underground bunkers so they couldn’t bomb them out so he told me.
Now after his third week of being on the island he and his platoon were ambushed by a small Japanese squad and they fought like hell one of them was a young Japanese boy around 17 or so and ran away well my grandfather chased him and was shot in the leg. My grandfather told me that this boy looked like he couldn’t go through with killing him and let him live, then what happened after that my grandfather told that this boy bent down and said I’m sorry I’ll let you live I know you have a family and want to return so I’ll let you live. My grandfather thanked the boy but the boy had one request for my grandfather to kill him because he’d brought shame to the emperor and his family.
At first my grandfather couldn’t do it but the boy shot my grandfathers leg again and my grandfather shot back at him and killed him he then crawled over to the boy and saw a picture in his poker he pulled it out and it was a picture of the boy his parents and little sister my grandfather cried after what he did and still cried when he thought of it.
My grandfather later returned home after the war and lived his life and married to have 5 kids my father and then had me as his 3rd grandson he recently passed away at the age of 102 and told stories to his kids and me and my brother since we thought we’d join the marines. So Japanese kid who didn’t kill my father thank you and I’m sorry that you couldn’t live your life with your family just like my grandfather.” (MrMeepMeep98)
Dad Handled It Well
“It was during the 1970’s and my dad was over the Korean DMZ the where going to play a propaganda tape but they got over the DMZ right as they were about to play it the copilot forgot the tape he was in a panic, so my Dad says guys I have the tape and none of those guys spoke Korean so they had no idea what it was. my dad had put in a pastors sermon in Korean.” (jedidiah-greene)
A Shotgun Story
“We used Shorty 870 Magnums as a tool to breach doors. You would put the barrel on the door just in between the locking mechanism and the door jamb. Fire two rounds, making a figure eight pattern. After shooting out the lock you’d boot the door, throw a flash bang, follow it in and get to business. The shotgun rounds we used for breaching were designed to break apart after going through the door as to not injure anyone on the other side too bad. Don’t know if a non combatant was on the other side. We also put in buck shot and used it as a close quarters weapon for the driver of the unarmored rigs. That was early on. Once ied’s started to pop off you didn’t leave the wire without armor on your rig.” (MacMean)
Straight From World War 2
“But I was recently told stories from WWII by family. I would like to relay them here. I have two, but they’re short. My paternal great grandfather was one of the first on the beaches of Normandy. He said the he hid under a jeep and was the only person to survive in his platoon. He wouldn’t say much else about it and he has been dead almost ten years. My step great grandfather passed before I could meet him. His wife and my step grandfather told me many stories. He was in the navy during WWII and was on a transport/supply ship. He was stationed in Pearl Harbor and said that he “transported more toilet paper and beer than any other ship in the navy”. I know this isn’t exactly how this sub works…but I wanted to tell it to someone.” (Seamitch51)
Creepy One From NAM
“Not sure how true this may be but my late uncle’s best friend fought in nam. He said that there was some really quiet, (understandably) scared young draftee that joined his platoon. The kid was real quiet and always had a blank stare. He was very disconnected from the rest of his squad. Well after a while he completely snapped and started chopping off Vietnam soldier’s fingers and chewing on them as a sort of stress reliever type thing. He always had a finger in his mouth like it was a cig or something. He did this until he was injured and apparently while he was in a camp getting treated he chewed his own damn fingers to the bone! The guy completely snapped from the war. Again not sure how true this is as it was told with a smile on my uncle’s face but still… Creepy” (Hockeymaniac16)