It's D-Day. Who Remembers a Hero?

Rupp1 · Jun 7, 2017

Already posted some things about my uncle, here are a few from my father, his twin. Again, grew up never knowing about any of this.

Toyotacrawler · Jun 7, 2017

scocar[OP] said: ↑

Awesome! So these photos knocked my memory loose. It was a history of Tinian, not Tarawa, that I edited. Tinian was also brutal, more brutal than those particular pictures happen to depict. But they had learned a lot by then from all the preceding island assaults. It was one of those battles that ended in them facing fanatical Japanese soldiers holed up in limestone cliffs and caves, along with villagers who were choosing to jump to their death in the sea. The Marines had to resort to using flamethrowers and hand grenades to the bitter end. Tinian's biggest historical significance was that it provided an airstrip within heavy bomber range of mainland Japan. And this is where Fat Man and Little Boy departed aboard B-29s on their fateful journey that changed the world forever.
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Indeed. You can visit the pit where the bombs were loaded. There is a glass case over it. There are a couple of images I have of deceased Marines that I chose not to share and a lot more pictures that my aunts have. After my mother passed I tried to get some before her sisters went thru all of them.

As somebody mentioned earlier the D-Day museum is a great place to visit. The short time I lived in Harvey LA I went at least once a month and still didn't have time to read everything. The real treasure in New Orleans is that museum and not the bars on Bourbon Street in my opinion.

scocar · Jun 7, 2017

Rupp1 said: ↑

Already posted some things about my uncle, here are a few from my father, his twin. Again, grew up never knowing about any of this.

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Incredible. Just incredible.

Rupp1 · Jun 7, 2017

scocar[OP] said: ↑

Incredible. Just incredible.
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For a man that was just 5'8 and 145 lbs soaking wet.

scocar · Jun 7, 2017

Rupp1 said: ↑

For a man that was just 5'8 and 145 lbs soaking wet.
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Harder to hit...

kgarrett11 · Jun 7, 2017

Ryan_3TacosIn · Jun 7, 2017

Salty_Dog said: ↑

Glad you asked. Yes I did have the pleasure of knowing my great-uncle Bill. He was my fraternal grandmother's only brother. My father, who is a retired college professor, helped Bill write a book of his memoirs back in the early 2000s. Here is a synopsis of his Army life.

Uncle Bill Diehl volunteered for the Army in 1943 when he was 19 years old. He managed to pass his physical despite having had Polio as a child. He spent his first few months Stateside as a clerk, and he liked to tell the story of how when he got his first assignment after Basic someone noticed that he had not had training in the use of a grenade.

So he reported for grenade training and was sitting in the bleachers at the training ground when the instructor "accidentally" dropped a "live" grenade after he had pulled out the pin. It was a fake grenade, of course, but they wanted to see how the troops would react. (A few dove for cover, but most just sat there with dumb looks on their faces).

On his second assignment, some of Bill's paperwork got lost and his file said he still had not attended grenade training and was order to go again. This time when he reported for training, he maneuvered himself to a seat on the front row closest to the instructor. Now when the instructor dropped the fake grenade and everyone freaked, Uncle Bill quickly reached down and picked up the fake grenade and hurled it into the training field. The commanding officer happened to be there that day and witnessed Bill’s "heroism", commended him for his actions and said, "Private, if you ever need a favor, come see me."

A few weeks later, when a girl from his home town was in the area and invited him to breakfast, Bill decided it was time to call in the favor. He asked his sergeant for permission to speak to the CO, and the CO remembered “Yes, you’re the young man with the grenade and yes, I did promise you a favor. What can I do for you Private?” Bill began to explain about his breakfast invitation and before he could finish, the CO was on the horn ordering up a car and a driver for Bill and his girlfriend, and said he would pick up the tab for them. And all Bill was going to ask for was just permission to go!

By 1944, Uncle Bill was in Europe, and in late December of that year his family received the distressing news that he was MIA. After two arduous weeks of worry they learned that he was one of many US soldiers who had been captured by the Germans in the Battle of the Bulge. A month later they received a postcard from him via the Red Cross saying he was alive, he was not wounded and was being treated as well as could be expected under the circumstances. But this was the last they'd hear from him for months.

The captured Americans were lined up for inspection by the Germans and were ordered to empty their pockets of all personal belongings. Grown men were in tears as pictures of families and sweethearts were torn to pieces in front of them and tossed in the mud along the side of the road. When the German guard - who himself was not much older than Bill - came to Bill, Bill handed over his all belongings including a small pocket bible his aunt had given his before he left to go overseas. ("You keep this with you at all times," admonished his Aunt Minnie, "and you'll always be safe.") The guard took Bill’s belongings, then paused, looked at the Bible, looked at Bill, looked at the Bible again, then quietly handed the small book back to him. Bill would carry that little Bible with him everywhere for the rest of his life.

The captured Americans were loaded on a train for transport to the POW camp. Now if you paid attention in History class, you'll know that the European winter of 1944-45 was one of the coldest on record. They traveled, 100 men to a boxcar, for five days without food. The only water was a little bit of snow that blew in through the drafty boxcar doors. (Bill would blame his later-in-life problems with kidney disease on that week without food and water. More on that later). One corner of the car was designated as a latrine, but it didn't get much use after the first day; with nothing "going in", there was not much to "come out." The men huddled and slept close together to stay warm; closer than most men would prefer to get with other men. But you do what you have to do to survive.

So for the next four months, Private William A. Diehl was a Prisoner of War. He lived in the Stalag barracks along with his other POW buddies. As he got to know some of the other captives he learned that one of the men from another unit was from the neighboring Pennsylvania town as Bill's and they had some friends in common. They themselves would become lifelong friends. Since food was scarce in the camp, the men made bread out of mashed up potatoes mixed with sawdust (what they called "tree flour" in their own brand of gallows humor) to make it go farther. They improvised gloves and socks from rags, and burned whatever they could to stay warm. During his stay as a guest of the Luftwaffe, this strapping young soldier would lose about 30 pounds of body weight.

This was so far along in the war that the Germans had begun resorting to desperate measures to keep its fighting effort going; measures that included the conscription of senior citizens. The guard on the barracks was a 68 year old man, who didn't even carry a gun. (Most of the small arms had been gathered up and reissued to soldiers on the front lines). Why didn't they try and escape? Because one, there was no place to go without getting caught, and two, if they were caught they'd most likely be shot. It wasn't worth the risk.

But even as POWs, Bill and his comrades continued to fight the war any way they could; mostly through small acts of sabotage. When the POWs were put to work refueling trucks, they made sure that a generous amount of the precious gasoline got spilled on the ground when the guards were not looking. The Germans had also developed a car, a steam powered vehicle that ran on wood chips, which could be used for short-distance travel (thereby freeing up gasoline for the front lines). Uncle Bill was often assigned to a work crew that operated a chipper machine to make fuel for these vehicles. Occasionally, a rock or a piece of steel would "accidentally" fall into the hopper rendering the machine useless for a few days until repair parts could be found. Bill said in retrospect that these little actions probably didn't do much to help the Allied effort, but it helped to keep the morale elevated and let the men think they were making a contribution.

One time a German soldier, a sergeant, asked one of the POWs what he could say in English that would be considered an insult to Americans. Seizing the opportunity to make a fool out of the German, the POW told him to say "San Francisco." So this German sergeant goes about the camp sneering the words "San Francisco" to every POW's face, only to be met with snickers from the G.I.'s and puzzling confusion from the sergeant. When the sergeant tried the "San Francisco" line on Uncle Bill, Bill said he just looked him straight in the eye, put on his best Happy-face, and in a jovial sounding voice, replied "Go to Hell, you Fat-nosed Bastard!" The sergeant smiled, turned, and walked away utterly clueless about what had just been said to him.

In late April of 1945, the POWs were again loaded onto a train for a destination unknown. While they were underway, the train was spotted by Allied aircraft. Unaware that the train was carrying American POWs, the planes attacked. The attack put the train out of commission but unfortunately also killed several G.I.'s. Fortunately, for my family at least, Bill was not one of them. It was then that the POWs made their move: In all the confusion right after the attack they overpowered and killed the few remaining guards, took their weapons and ammunition headed and west towards their best guess as to where they might find friendly forces. They walked by night and by day they slept in the forest to hide their whereabouts from the Germans. They were found two weeks later by a British patrol that told them that Germany had surrendered and the war was over.

The word came down from Command that any men who was not wounded should stay where they were until the Allies could get a foothold in Germany and that every soldier could be accounted for. Bill and his buddies lived in a small German town for the next four months. Bill was taken in by a German woman who lived with her three children. Her name was Marta Siegel and Bill liked her a lot. She reminded him of his mother who had died when he was only ten. Mrs. Siegel was educated and spoke a little English, and by then Bill could get by in German enough that they could communicate. He enjoyed eating dinner with them, doing handyman chores around the house and playing sleight-of-hand games with the children. After the war, he continued to send this family "Care Packages" every month for the next five years.

In September 1945, Bill was again Stateside for discharge from service in the United States Army. He got promoted to Corporal, was issued his back pay for the months while he was held captive, and soon returned to a hero’s welcome in his little Pennsylvania farm town. He went into the quarrying business with his father. This was at a time when Pennsylvania was embarking on an aggressive post-war road-building campaign, and limestone from the Diehl & Son Quarries was much in demand. He married a local girl and they had three children.

Bill’s oldest daughter followed in her father’s footsteps and enlisted in the Army after she finished nursing school. She ended up making a career of the Army, spending most of her time in Germany of all places, until she retired after 30 years at the rank of Lt. Colonel. Around 1985, Bill and his wife made a pilgrimage of sorts to Germany to visit their daughter. Time had assuaged the horrible memories of war and Bill was eager to go visit some of the place he had been 40 years earlier. While he was there, he looked up and located the oldest son of Marta Siegel. The son, now in his 50’s, remembered Uncle Bill and his generosity that had helped get his family back on their feet during those difficult years of post-war recovery.

Uncle Bill became a local celebrity of sorts; a prominent member of the VFW and several local organizations. He was active in several ex-POW groups, counseled ex-POWs from Viet Nam, and once ran for town council (he didn’t win). He was a gifted story teller, and was often asked to speak at many of the local gatherings.

Uncle Bill was a devoutly religious and patriotic man. When his church refurbished its 100-year-old church building Bill noticed that the American flag that had been in the corner near the altar was missing. "Where is the flag?" he asked the church committee. "We removed it because it does not fit the new decor."

Well, that did it. Bill was livid.

He raised such a stink, loud and long to anyone who would listen, that the flag was soon replaced.

During much of the second half of his adult life, Uncle Bill had been plagued with kidney problems; a condition he attributed to a poor diet and the unhealthy water he consumed during his POW days. He had a diseased kidney removed sometime in the 1990s, had been in ill health for several years, and had been undergoing dialysis for the last six years of his life. His doctors did not consider him a viable recipient for a transplant. So in March of 2007 Bill decided enough was enough and decided to take himself off dialysis. He wasn't depressed and hadn't lost his will to live or anything but he was never the fool. He knew that he was not going to be getting any better, he was in a lot of pain, and he had lived longer than anyone ever expected him to. Most people can only get three years of successful treatment from dialysis and Uncle Bill was blessed six, so he knew he was on borrowed time. He said he made his peace with the Lord, and he was ready whenever He was. His family supported his decision and were at his bedside when he passed.

He was buried in the local cemetery with full military honors, rifle salute and all, courtesy of the VFW. In preparation for his wake, his family went up into the attic and found some boxes of old memorabilia from the war. Among the items they found was a Purple Heart medal. No one, not even his wife, knew he had been awarded the Purple Heart. Like many soldiers of that "Greatest" generation, he probably figured "No big deal. We just had a job to do and we did it."

Uncle Bill used to say that when he was a POW, he didn't think he'd live to see his 21st birthday. He died on March 21, 2007 at the age of 82.

Not bad for an old soldier.
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Wonderful story. I really enjoyed reading that. Being a fellow combat vet myself (not a POW though...) I really enjoy hearing stories like that from The Greatest Generation. Sincerely- thank you for sharing that with us.

Ryan_3TacosIn · Jun 7, 2017

Growing up, I knew my grandfather (Mom's dad) was in WWII, but I didn't know much about what he did, and he NEVER talked about it. He was a very quiet, reserved, calm man and never really got excited about anything. I didn't know how long he served, where he served or anything like that really- I just knew he was in the Navy- and worked for the Post Office for 30 years after he got home. I legitimately thought he was a cook on a ship somewhere and didn't really do a whole lot or see a whole lot. He never talked about it, my mom didn't know anything about it, and it was just something that was never really brought up.

Prior to his recent passing, he suffered from Alzheimers and got to the point where he couldn't recognize anyone, or anything, but he would have these (I'm assuming) war flashbacks. He said some pretty crazy stuff through all of that, and I remember my mom being like "Where did THAT come from?" He recently passed away, and my dad (Army vet as well) requested his service from DoD because he was curious about what he did- since he never talked about it.

We get his service records back and my Dad and I were both SHOCKED. My quiet, reserved grandfather was one of the founding fathers of the Navy Seals as we know it today. He was one of the original Frog Men in the Pacific theatre, and was part of a fairly famous Special Operations unit (can't recall while I'm sitting at my desk right now) that prepped and cleared the beaches prior to invading and taking the island chains in the Pacific. There were some pretty hairy missions because the commander was actually awarded a Silver Star in one of the missions my grandfather did with him. He went to dive school, and trained at these very special schools all over the country prior to deploying as a Frog Man.

Truly incredible and truly remarkable story for someone that was so humble as he was, and never spoke about or talked about until he started having flashbacks with Alzheimers.

scocar · Jun 7, 2017

Ryan_3TacosIn said: ↑

Growing up, I knew my grandfather (Mom's dad) was in WWII, but I didn't know much about what he did, and he NEVER talked about it. He was a very quiet, reserved, calm man and never really got excited about anything. I didn't know how long he served, where he served or anything like that really- I just knew he was in the Navy- and worked for the Post Office for 30 years after he got home. I legitimately thought he was a cook on a ship somewhere and didn't really do a whole lot or see a whole lot. He never talked about it, my mom didn't know anything about it, and it was just something that was never really brought up.

Prior to his recent passing, he suffered from Alzheimers and got to the point where he couldn't recognize anyone, or anything, but he would have these (I'm assuming) war flashbacks. He said some pretty crazy stuff through all of that, and I remember my mom being like "Where did THAT come from?" He recently passed away, and my dad (Army vet as well) requested his service from DoD because he was curious about what he did- since he never talked about it.

We get his service records back and my Dad and I were both SHOCKED. My quiet, reserved grandfather was one of the founding fathers of the Navy Seals as we know it today. He was one of the original Frog Men in the Pacific theatre, and was part of a fairly famous Special Operations unit (can't recall while I'm sitting at my desk right now) that prepped and cleared the beaches prior to invading and taking the island chains in the Pacific. There were some pretty hairy missions because the commander was actually awarded a Silver Star in one of the missions my grandfather did with him. He went to dive school, and trained at these very special schools all over the country prior to deploying as a Frog Man.

Truly incredible and truly remarkable story for someone that was so humble as he was, and never spoke about or talked about until he started having flashbacks with Alzheimers.
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Holy cow. That is mind-blowing!

But, actually, isn't that just the sort of cool-headed reserve the SEALs demand. If you can share any more about this, please do!

My mother passed away last year after a long bout with Alzheimers. Well after she could barely recall what had just happened a few minutes ago, she was still able to recount those deep memories, like watching a Messerschmitt fly down the street of her childhood home, and locking eyes with the pilot, he was so close.

Ryan_3TacosIn · Jun 7, 2017

@scocar

Did I read on here that you edited a book on tanks?!?

I was a history military history major myself, and while I was at the Academy (West Point) we had some of the Army's historians on very specific subjects- tank warfare, various civil war battles Gettysburg, ect.- for professors.

I'll see what other stories I can get out of them and see if my grandmother (still alive) has anything else on it. Truth be told, she didn't know a whole lot about his experiences either- they met after he got home. There is/was a picture of their platoon somewhere I'll try to get ahold of.

zimmmtaco · Jun 7, 2017

Rupp1 said: ↑

I remember my father (who pass away in the early 90'S) and his twin brother who is still alive.
My dad was there in Normandy, 5th Rangers, Co.D. He never spoke about any of it my entire life, but a few years ago, my mother sent me all of his letters of valor and service. Bronze Star, etc. He had many. I keep copies on my desk at work. I read them every time I think I've done something great to remind me of what greatness looks like. I have the compass he had when he landed on the beach that day.

His twin brother never really spoke about it either, but this article came out a few years ago in the local paper in PA.
For those who care to read it below, I've changed his last name to Rupp, which obviously is just to cover privacy. Never knew any of this, and I spent many hours on the farm side be side with him.

He jumped into darkness to find an enemy ahead

“Hell, we were young. We were stupid. You had to be kind of crazy (if) you don’t care too much to jump out of anything.”

It may have been youthful ignorance that prompted John Rupp to volunteer for the parachute infantry after being drafted into the U.S. Army during World War II.

But it certainly does not define his service.

Born in February 1924, Rupp said that before the war he lived at a house about four miles farther up the road from his current Page Hollow residence, where he has lived since 1946.

Living in Warren County, Rupp, now 90, said he knew “nothing” about what was going on in the world during the early years of the war. “We were young. We knew Germany was knocking the heck out of everything in Europe.”

Drafted in March 1943, Rupp explained that he was initially placed in the 66th Infantry Division and sent for training at Camp Blanding, Florida.

“I didn’t think that was tough,” Rupp of basic training.

He was then transferred to Camp Robinson, Arkansas.

“That’s where I volunteered for parachute school,” he said.

Rupp explained, “I had a good friend from Alabama. It was his idea.” He said the friend spent an entire Sunday trying to convince him to join the Airborne. When he eventually agreed, the friend went AWOL. “I don’t know what ever happened to him,” he said.

The training at parachute school was more challenging than basic.

“A lot of it, just physical training,” he said. “A lot of it was just physical exercise stuff, running up those mountains. They’re big. There was about 400 left with me, only half of us made it. They, every Monday morning for three weeks, they said ‘whoever wants to quit, do it now.’ (There was) always a bunch that got up and left.

“I was never in an airplane until then,” he recalled. “Fort Benning, Georgia (was the) first time in my life I got (in) an airplane.” With seven or eight training jumps to complete, at the rate of about one a month, he “never landed in one for seven or eight times,” he said. “I always jumped out of them.”

Does jumping out of an airplane invoke fear?

“You don’t have time to think,” said Rupp. “You’re like a dog when it happens. They train ya’ and you react just like an animal. Before you know it you jump out that god darn door. Then you get that opening shock.”

From there, gravity does the rest.

Rupp explained that the training jumps were made at just 1,500 feet. Falling at 20 feet a second, it was quick trip. He said “you could steer by pulling the riser with your hand but that speeded it up…. You ain’t going to have much time at 1,500 feet.”

“Nothing so beautiful in the world as being in a parachute coming down.”

With his jump wings in hand, Rupp was officially part of the 517th Parachute Regimental Combat Team.

And his jump wings bought him a ticket overseas as the 517th sailed from Camp Patrick Henry near Newport News, Virginia on May 17, 1943 to the European Theatre of Operations.

He did not leave a girlfriend or wife stateside.

And that was a conscious choice.

“I just left friends,” he said. “I see guys that were married. They had an awful time. (I) said ‘I ain’t going to have that trouble.'”

Rupp said that he sailed on the George Bancroft, a Liberty ship, and traveled in a large convoy into the Mediterranean Sea. Once in the sea, “the Germans bombed us,” he said. “(It is a) good thing they missed my ship. There was 8,000 tons of ammo on my ship.”

Docking in Naples on May 31, Rupp said they didn’t waste any time getting off the ship.

“The Gerries were bombing us almost every day,” he recalled. The 517th was stationed close enough to the fight at Monte Cassino that “we could hear the big guns shooting in there.”

“We were just training,” Rupp said of most of the 517th’s time in Italy and Sicily.

But then did eventually join the advance north of Grosseto, in central Italy.

They “put us in combat for 18 days to see what it was like to get shot at,” Rupp said. “When we started losing guys, they pulled us out.”

The training continued through the summer months and, while the men did not know it, they were preparing for Operation Dragoon, the Allied invasion of southern France.

D-Day for Dragoon was August 15 with the invasion to commence, H-Hour, at 8 a.m.

Just like the Normandy invasion two months earlier, airborne infantry were dropped behind the lines before the infantry assault, to secure key roadways, bridges and objectives.

“We loaded into planes at one o’clock in the morning (and) jumped at 4:40 in the morning. It was quite a long ride,” said Rupp.

And they didn’t receive any advance warning.

“They didn’t tell us until the night we were going to jump,” he said. “They told us where we were going. You can’t tell what you don’t know. That’s what they told us.

“It was just a night jump. We were loaded with ammo and everything. The only difference, I was in the second wave, we was not very high. We no sooner left the plane than we were on the ground.”

He said that the combat jump was well under the 1,500 feet they jumped at during training and was “probably just high enough to get the opening shock” and ensure the parachute opened.

But even though the specific site of their jump was a secret, the men had a pretty good idea.

“We were guessing,” he said. “We all were quite sure either Yugoslavia or France.”

Both locations would have forced the Germans to fight on another front, stretching their resources even further.

Rupp said Dragoon “was supposed to be the same day as Normandy. (They) didn’t have enough ships. We had to wait while Normandy took first place.

“There were three divisions that came in after we jumped,” he said.

At least at the outset, German resistance was not too stiff.

“We didn’t have too much trouble,” he said of the enemy on the day of the invasion. “They caught up with us on the third day, 20 to 25 miles inland.”

Rupp and the rest of the 517th then moved inland up the Rhone River valley through France, liberating a host of towns along the way from Fayence, Callian and Saint-Cezaire to Saint-Vallier, Grasse, Bouyon and La Roquette, pressing into Peira Cava near the coast during 94 days in the Alp Mountains.

A Bronze Star citation details Rupp’s involvement there.

“Staff Sergeant John Rupp, Jr. …for heroic achievement in action near Piera Cava, France, 23 September 1944. Staff Sergeant Rupp was a member of a patrol which was assigned the mission of destroying enemy replacements situated on the slope of a heavily mined hill. While crossing the mined area, three members of the patrol were seriously wounded by exploding mines. Alerted by the noise, the enemy opened fire compelling Staff Sergeant Rupp and his men to seek cover. From his position, Staff Sergeant Rupp saw that his three wounded comrades were lying dangerously exposed to enemy bullets. Disregarding his own safety, he crawled across the field, feeling his way among mines and trip wires until he reached the side of the nearest casualty. After removing the injured man to safety, Staff Sergeant Rupp repeated his performance in rescuing the other two wounded men. The courage and devotion to duty displayed by Staff Sergeant Rupp are in keeping with the finest traditions of the military service.”

The unit was eventually pulled off the line and assembled, along with all other Allied airborne troops, into the XVIII Airborne Corps and moved to Sissonne, France.

“They weren’t going to use us until Spring,” he said. The unit was then moved to Belgium to “clean out four or five buildings. They never told us it was a town.”

Just days later, on the night of December 15-16, the Germans offered one last-ditch offensive to break out of an ever-tightening Allied perimeter.

What ensued is known as the Battle of the Bulge.

On December 21, the 517th received an order to move and join the fight in Belgium. “It was cold,” Rupp said. “But I got shot the first time we was in there. I wasn’t out there very long.”

On Christmas, the Germans took the city of Manhay.

According to the 517th unit history, “the fall of Manhay… sent schockwaves throughout the Allied Command” because of how the Germans were now free to attack. “Urgent directives descended… demanding that Manhay be retaken at all costs.”

In that effort to re-take Manhay, Rupp was wounded.

“I was wounded the 27th of December,” he said, “right in the Battle of the Bulge.”

But while he claims he wasn’t out there very long, a citation awarding him the Silver Star says otherwise.

“Sergeant John Rupp, Jr.,… for gallantry in action at Manhay, Belgium, 27 December 1944. When a heavy concentration of supporting artillery fire fell short and into his company, causing casualties and confusion, Sergeant Rupp, although himself wounded, quickly organized his squad and moved forward to the objective. When forced to take cover by an enemy machine gun, he single handedly silenced the weapon and killed three of the enemy. Sergeant Rupp led his squad through the town, captured or killed all the enemy in his sector, and then placed his squad in a defensive position on the opposite side of the town. Only after this action and after checking with his flank units to make sure that the line was completely held, did he allow himself to be given medical aid.”

Rupp said he was “hit right in the hand.” He explained that the impact “shot the rifle right out of my hand. (It) laid on the ground in three pieces.”

“Airborne squads are small, 12 of us in there. About 30 in my platoon,” he said.

Four of those men emerged from the Bulge uninjured.

“I was in the hospital until almost Spring,” he said. He spent a week in a hospital in Belgium before flying back to England.

Once his wound sufficiently healed, Rupp said the war was “coming to an end. (I) didn’t have to go back to the front. We were ready to go but then Patton and them crossed the Rhine and they were going so fast that they didn’t need us.”

“We were going to make a jump on a Sunday morning in Germany,” he explained, “and the sandtables they had they had buildings on there. And we asked questions, where are these things. They actually said they didn’t know. What it actually was (was) a concentration camp. Thank God I didn’t have to see that.”

Rupp said he was back in France on Victory in Europe, V-E, Day. “The guys just went right to their regular days work,” he said.

But there was still a chance the 517th could have to go fight in the Pacific Theater.

“I fought in the Mediterranean Theatre and the European Theatre,” he said. “So we had a choice if we wanted to go to the Pacific or stay in Europe. (I) volunteered for the Pacific. The regimental commander said ‘No, these guys seen enough.'”

Rupp was discharged on November 28, 1945.

“They started kicking guys out in a hurry,” he said. “The government didn’t want to pay no Army wages. They talked to us. They wanted the guys to sign up and stay in. I’m glad I didn’t. Right after that, Korea hit.”

Coming back home, there weren’t any big celebrations.

“Just came home,” he said. “Neighbor said ‘Hi’ and that’s it.”

Rupp went to work at the Youngsville Furniture Factory and eventually moved to the Jamestown Metal Corp. fabricating steel.

In addition to the Silver Star, Bronze Star with Oak Leaf Cluster and Purple Heart, Rupp was awarded the Good Conduct Medal, American Defense Medal, Victory Medal, E.T.O Ribbon with arrow head and four combat stars, the French Croix and the Belgian Croix.

“You do a lot of things you don’t even think about,” said Rupp of his service. “You just do it…. A lot of it is how aggressive you feel. Some guys could do it. Some couldn’t.”
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1st.... link to thread where I shared some of my great uncle(grandmother's brother) experiences from WWII https://www.tacomaworld.com/threads/wwii-memories-thread.464003/

2nd.... this book may be of interest to those reading this thread... Short stories from WWII veterans of the 83rd Infantry Div..... http://soldiersstoriesbook.com/ found it by looking up history, regarding my great uncle..... One of the stories is contained in the book is from my great uncle....

3rd.... I hope to make it to this DDAY re-enactment this year in Conneaut, OH(on Lake Erie). http://www.ddayohio.us/..... My great uncle was one of the individuals honored by teh French govt last year, and has been very impressed with how the event has grown over the years and how similar the area is to where they landed in France.

4th.... The reason that i quoted @Rupp1, is because it is amazing how small the world is sometimes.... While essentially meaningless other than the coincidence, I currently live on the same Page Hollow road in Warren, PA where his uncle resides/resided??......

Rupp1 · Jun 7, 2017

zimmmtaco said: ↑

1st.... link to thread where I shared some of my great uncle(grandmother's brother) experiences from WWII https://www.tacomaworld.com/threads/wwii-memories-thread.464003/

2nd.... this book may be of interest to those reading this thread... Short stories from WWII veterans of the 83rd Infantry Div..... http://soldiersstoriesbook.com/ found it by looking up history, regarding my great uncle..... One of the stories is contained in the book is from my great uncle....

3rd.... I hope to make it to this DDAY re-enactment this year in Conneaut, OH(on Lake Erie). http://www.ddayohio.us/..... My great uncle was one of the individuals honored by teh French govt last year, and has been very impressed with how the event has grown over the years and how similar the area is to where they landed in France.

4th.... The reason that i quoted @Rupp1, is because it is amazing how small the world is sometimes.... While essentially meaningless other than the coincidence, I currently live on the same Page Hollow road in Warren, PA where his uncle resides/resided??......
Click to expand...

Still resides with his wife! He turned 93 this year.

Tactical_Panda · Jun 8, 2017

Found this on YouTube. It's a documentary about a former American soldier who is a survivor of the Normandy Invasion. He takes a trip to France to visit the old battleground. In one part of the film, he meets a German man who is also a D-Day survivor and together they reminisce about the battle; not so much as former enemies, but as two people who were profoundly affected by the horrors of war.

Part 1: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=31MOy0TcUPQ

Part 2: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=myp7Ifp88as

1Shifter · Jun 8, 2017

My Dad who served in the 10th AF in the CBI and my Uncle Elwood who was a medic in the 10th Armored. Was in Metz and BoB.

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