Soldier tales (Inspired by Mogz)

[Retired_Can_Soldier]

I remember years ago standing vigil on Remebrance Day with my Regiment as the bitter fall cold nipped at our noses and ears on the parade square.

My life at that point had been learning the art of weaponry and military tactics. I was a sponge, fascinated by my new found career and the structure of command. A young idealistic soldier I was, fascinated with history and the sacrifice made by soldiers past.

As the Regiment stood at ease I heard drill commands given in German and watched with interest out of the corner of my eyes as a German tanker Regiment marched smartly onto the parade square.

When they stopped our units stood across from each other. The cenotaph between us. Here stood the ancestors of an enemy that dragged us into two world wars. Here they stood across from in full military dress waiting for the 11th hour.

As the ceremonies commenced I was struck by the nature of mankind and its resilience. Sworn enemies standing across from each other paying respect to the fallen. I knew then that there is hope for mankind.......

There is always hope.........

I'd like to invite anyone else to share an anecdote military or otherwise.

 

[Jersay]

Well this was in Air Cadets before I got into the army.

So here I was standing on a freezing cold day, - 30 degrees or so, and I was selling poppies with a cadet of mine, he was my responsibility and I was thinking, "why am I doing this, I'm freezing"

Then this elderly man in his 80s I say came up and started chating to us. And he told us that he was about 17 or 18 when he had signed up to go overseas and such and he told us about his Sgt who took care of him but was sadly killed during fighting in some battle in WWII. So being the Cpl of the little Cadet, the elderly veteran told the young man that I was with that he should listen to me because I would always take his 'personal' safety at heart because I was his 'commander' at the time. Which in itself was pretty cool.

So when the elderly gentleman gave us 10$ and took no poppies and you have people giving you like 5 cents at time. And like going out the back way to avoid you, I knew then that is why I was standing there the week before Remembrance day collecting money for the legion.

 

[#juan]

In the late fifties

I was in Germany with the RCAF. I was stationed at Baden Sollingen. The nearest big town was Baden Baden. One of our favorite pubs(Gasthaus) was the Wiessen Rossel.

One Friday night we had just got back from an air gunnery exercise in Sardinia so we were finished early. By about ten pm we were all at the Wiessen Rossel and we all had a bit of a skin full. My friend, we'll call him Bob came back from the bathroom and told me that he had found something interesting. I went with him and he showed me a door in the back of the washroom that led to a long, steep stairway down. We went down that stairway and walked for at least a half mile down a tunnel with a small bare light bulb every thirty feet or so. Piled along the tunnels were great kegs of wine and cases of the large bottles of German beer. We wandered around the tunnels for several hours keeping ourselves going with big bottles of German beer. All of a sudden the lights went out. After what we had to drink, our navigational skills were not great and the absolute pitch blackness was not helping. I think we were in the dark for another two hours at least. We were close to panic when the lights came back on. It took us another hour to find our way back to the gasthaus and when we got there it was closed and empty. We let ourselves out and made our way back to the car and drove back to base. To this day I don't know if the tunnels were some sort of bomb shelters from the war or what but we didn't go back and look.

 

[Mogz]

Multinational Solidarity:

I woke up in the near-dark cabin of the CC-150 Polaris Airbus, unsure as to where we were, or even what timezone I was in anymore. I'd started my arduous journey over 24 hours prior on the dusty, wind-swept tarmac, at the Coalition Airfield in Kabul Afghanistan; a journey that had already taken me through Camp Mirage, Zagreb Croatia, and Ramstein Germany. I was going home, back to Canada, after nearly 7 months living in a perpetual state of alertness in Afghanistan. It didn't even feel real, i'd been away so long that I couldn't bring myself to accept I was going to be on Canadian soil in short order. I hadn't seen my girlfriend since May when I was home on HLTA, and that 2 weeks spent with her was hardly but a flash in the pan. I looked at my watch, but then realized I hadn't a clue what timezone I was in, and therefore the gesture was useless. I was still on Afghanistan time, it was coming up on 6am in Kabul, and my biological clock knew it certainly wasn't morning where I was. I sat there in the darkness for a while, listening to my MP3 player, sipping on a bottle of water, and realizing I was starving. As if on cue the cabin lights came on and the pilot made the announcment that we'd be landing at U.S. Naval Air Station in Keflavik. The guy in the seat next to me look over and said "where the fuck is Keflavik"? "Iceland" I said, "tourism capital of the World". We both laughed our asses off, highlighting just how tired we were. As the plane touched down, I peered out the window at the base. Nothing much, a few hangars, a few C-17 Globemasters, and 2 F-16s sitting on the tarmac. We deplaned and sort of gaggled around a safe distance from the plane, waiting for some type of leadership, typical Army. I then realized that the view from my side of the plane didn't reveal the true identity of Keflavik. On the opposite side of our aircraft were parked literally dozens of aircraft, fighters, cargo planes, search and rescuse, dozens upon dozens of aircraft. Only later did I learn that most of these were heading to Kuwait to support the War in Iraq. A sombering feeling, me coming home from a warzone, their crews and passegers going. We waited for what seemed like forever before a Major rallied the 180 some odd haggard Canadian soldiers and directed us in to a nearby hangar. In there we were told that the plane was going to be having some work done upon it, nothing major, just a few flakey things the crew noticed....not a shock considering it was a Canadian Air Force plane. We were told that the hangar was ours to sleep in and that boxed lunches would be brought to us shortly. We looked around the cramped hanagar and hundreds of military cots were set up for us. Someone nearby muttered "didn't we just leave this party". Most of us had been sleeping non-stop since Zagreb, and didn't feel like racking out yet again. So we sat up and talked, shot the shit, acted like soldiers. No one knew how long we'd be here, and knowing you're so close to home, yet still so far, is a harrowing feeling. I finally found out the time was pushing 11pm by, middle of the freaking night, my sleep patterns were destroyed. Another half hour so passed before a Captain called for everyones attention. He told everyone to get outside and form up in 3 ranks. I remember thinking, "you've got to be fucking kidding me". But was obeyed, we grumbled and formed up outside the hangar. 3 neat ranks of disshevled men and women who wanted nothing more than to go home. A U.S. Air Force officer accompanied by a woman wearing civilian clothing approached our gaggle. The Officer spoke up; "troops, this is *name censored* of the Keflavik Family Support Centre". The woman took it on cue to speak, and i'll never forget the words she said:

Hi there, we're having a party over at the community hall for all the boys going over to Iraq and when we heard you were all coming back from Afghanistan we decided it'd only be appropriate to invite the soldiers of our closest ally. So if you'll accept, we'd like you all to come on over and get something to eat and have a good time on us

No one said a word, we were in too much shock. The Major responded for us and said we graciously accepted. We were dismissed and taken over to the community hall (an older hanagar than had been converted) where more people than I could even count were in mid-party. Great music playing, beer, and more food than anyone there could hope to eat. When entered in a big gaggled, and the music died and a U.S. Marine stood up on a chair and said:

Welcome to the party, the foods over there, the beer that way, and it is considered a breach of military conduct to NOT get completely wasted tonight.

Everyone laughed and the music came back on, and we were ushered in and treated like kings. I met a lot of good people that night, had more than my fair share of beer, and ate like a pig. Towards the end of the evening when things were dying down, the music was cut off and our Major called for attention. He stood up on a chair and thanked everyone in Keflavik from the bottom of his heart for the warm welcome and the excellent treatment. In response another U.S. Marine (this one an officer) stood up and again some words that'll stick with me until I die:

You are more than welcome. Every one of you has served time in a warzone because our nation was attacked. We can never repay you for the steadfast friendship you have shown our nation in it's time of need. Your actions are the epitome of what the military World knows of Canadians. You've given selflessly for others, and for that my men and I thank you. Three cheers for Canada.

The place errupted with hip-hip-hoorays and my back was slapped more than a few times. The party eventaully petered out and we went back to our hangar to sleep. In the morning the plane was good to go and we were herded like cattle back on board....in some cases men had to be figuratively "poured" on to the plane after indulging a little too much in the local hospitality. As the plane sped down the runway I took a last look at Keflavik and knew I was going home to the nation I loved, but I also knew that the people of Keflavik had made me FEEL like I was home, and for that i'm thankful.

 

[Jersay]

Good story Mogz.