My father was a chemist. Because he had Scarlet Fever as a kid they wouldn't let him into WW2. He worked on an offshoot of the Manhattan Project instead. The doctors said he wouldn't live past 30, he made it to 95.
WWII Stories
- Thread starter Stevehose
- Start date
My grandfather worked on the manhattan project, where the uranium was processed. He died of cancer at age 69.
No doubt!!! I have a lot more info on the subject, but this thread is already all over the place.
No doubt!!! I have a lot more info on the subject, but this thread is already all over the place.
Mark,
Well, I think this Forum is also a social gathering place. ANYTIME you'd like to add info on the subject of your Grandfather's contribution to our nation and what may have been his sacrifice as a citizen, I for one would love to understand more and have his contributions become wider known among our 'younger' (in my case, almost ha ha) generation..
Maybe on 'off topic forum'????
By the way, if he was a veteran, 11/11 is a great time to remember those who served. My wife's father was a US Marine during WWII. He participated in many of the south Pacific island battles (Iwo Jima, et al), came home for a short leave and shipped out of San Diego, expecting to participate in the invasion of the Japanese homeland. His wife became pregnant during their short time together in late 1944, and my wife was born in late August 1945. The atomic bomb was a terrible device, but both my wife and I fully believe that without it, maybe he and probably millions of Japanese citizens/military and US military would not have survived such an invasion. Thus, she may never have met her father without the work your Grandfather and many other military/civilians did in the 1940;s.
Gary-
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Being just up the road from Los Alamos, I want to thank all veterans for what they do for US! I have done several projects with the lab, and it is an amazing place.
totally agree with you Steve. sometimes an off-course excursion is just what we need to keep from being too serious.
i never cared how to properly say the word ... just that it was one of a couple of the most correct wheels for a coupe. i just call it perfection. especially a wonderfully leather covered 38cm Petri (thanks Keshav) or just a perfect 40cm standard one (thanks Stevehose).
i never cared how to properly say the word ... just that it was one of a couple of the most correct wheels for a coupe. i just call it perfection. especially a wonderfully leather covered 38cm Petri (thanks Keshav) or just a perfect 40cm standard one (thanks Stevehose).
Hi Folks,
This topic came up so I am creating a dedicated thread in the OT. Feel free to share how you or your family was affected by WWII. Hopefully this is an acceptable subject for everyone including our friends in Europe.
This topic came up so I am creating a dedicated thread in the OT. Feel free to share how you or your family was affected by WWII. Hopefully this is an acceptable subject for everyone including our friends in Europe.
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HI @Gary Knox,
My grandfather was a scientist. Not officially enlisted. My grandmother and he moved to Oak Ridge Tennessee, a town fabricated for the isotope isolation of uranium during via the Manhattan Project. There were three points of entry to the city. Two gates at each end of the valley, and a helicopter pad. All of the homes in the city were prefabricated. You won't read about it on Wikipedia, but they were assigned a letter A, B,C,D, and F. So the whole town essentially looked the same. The streets are named after US states. It was one of the largest cities in Tennessee after a few years time.
In attempt to veer off topic again..
I was talking to my mom a few months ago about the movie The Green Book. Although she is certainly old enough to know better, she has almost no recollection of a segregated state. It turns out that Oak Ridge was the first High School in the US to integrate, without any conflict or escalations, two years before Clinton or Little Rock (you have seen the footage). At the time, Oak Ridge was still a 'Federal City' and not a municipality.
Thank you for posting this thread.
Papa had four brothers, all of them were involved in the armed forces during WWII. All of them made it home, miraculously... All of them had some stories, but some things they never discussed. I worry that today’s youth will never truly understand what the “Greatest Generation” really sacrificed for this world.
While going through Papa’s files last year I found this from my Uncle David, who was a tail gunner in the Pacific Theater.
Mom’s father... WWI Army Surgeon
Uncle Mike...Mig Alley Korea
Papa was too young for WWII but spent 4 years in the USAF.
Greatest Generation; brave men and women, all of them.
Very respectfully,
Ed Z
Papa had four brothers, all of them were involved in the armed forces during WWII. All of them made it home, miraculously... All of them had some stories, but some things they never discussed. I worry that today’s youth will never truly understand what the “Greatest Generation” really sacrificed for this world.
While going through Papa’s files last year I found this from my Uncle David, who was a tail gunner in the Pacific Theater.
Mom’s father... WWI Army Surgeon
Uncle Mike...Mig Alley Korea
Papa was too young for WWII but spent 4 years in the USAF.
Greatest Generation; brave men and women, all of them.
Very respectfully,
Ed Z
m_thompson
Well-Known Member
My father was stationed at the NAVY shipyard in Boston. I have records of five ships that he was assigned to and worked on, including the Coral Sea and the Missouri. He was stationed in Newport, RI for a while, just across the bay from where I live. Two of my uncles did their flight training either in Quonset, RI or Charlestown, RI also close to where I live.
Before being drafted and spending a miserable deployment on an Army! ship in the Pacific (he was always pissed about that), my grandfather & his brother drove down to the Houston shipyards to pick up some welding work.
One late afternoon as he was leaving for the day, a stern young officer demanded he cut access into a dry-docked ship for an urgent next-day engine installation. Meant he’d have to stay after others had left and work in an isolated and dark corner of the massive building. He worked late into the night, but he was proud he’d been entrusted w the job and held an 18–yr-old’s excitement to show off his masterful torch work.
Next morning, he goes to the yard awaiting
accolades for his quick & masterful work. But the yard was shut down, and an eery silence replaced the normal deafening clamor of frantic metal work. MPs and serious-looking men in suits were interrogating confused workers and sailors.
Apparently saboteurs struck the yard overnight destroying the seaworthiness of a ship that was due for launch. As he gets the details from other workers, it dawns on him that he’s the saboteur and that officer was not an officer. He quietly retreated, grabbed his brother and drove home to rural SE Oklahoma stopping only for gas.
He was a great storyteller with a booming laugh that always punctuated the story. But he didn’t tell anyone for 20 years. Must have been scary for a kid from the backwoods.
One late afternoon as he was leaving for the day, a stern young officer demanded he cut access into a dry-docked ship for an urgent next-day engine installation. Meant he’d have to stay after others had left and work in an isolated and dark corner of the massive building. He worked late into the night, but he was proud he’d been entrusted w the job and held an 18–yr-old’s excitement to show off his masterful torch work.
Next morning, he goes to the yard awaiting
accolades for his quick & masterful work. But the yard was shut down, and an eery silence replaced the normal deafening clamor of frantic metal work. MPs and serious-looking men in suits were interrogating confused workers and sailors.
Apparently saboteurs struck the yard overnight destroying the seaworthiness of a ship that was due for launch. As he gets the details from other workers, it dawns on him that he’s the saboteur and that officer was not an officer. He quietly retreated, grabbed his brother and drove home to rural SE Oklahoma stopping only for gas.
He was a great storyteller with a booming laugh that always punctuated the story. But he didn’t tell anyone for 20 years. Must have been scary for a kid from the backwoods.
My brother-in-law is a history professor and got a recording of my grandfather telling the story. It’s a hoot!
Tail gunner in a B-29 is a pretty terrifying job. I forget now, but I recall the survival rate for B-17? tail gunners or belly gunners was incredibly low in Europe. How do you get back in that plane and strap into those nests after a few missions? At least if you're fighting off another plane, you can unload on them, but with flak and surface fire, there's just plexiglass and wondering when the round is going to come. I'm sure those of you who served could explain it, but how they functioned in those sitting-duck nests without the ability to take cover, hide, or retreat is something beyond my comprehension.
A couple of slight connections with the above 'stories'.
For about 3 years before she retired, my wife was managing a project that was being performed under contract from her employer (a major US scientific company) by scientists at Los Alamos. Thus, she traveled there frequently for reviews of their progress. She felt it was a very interesting laboratory and small community (also, my neice and her husband lived there for 5-6 years as he was employed at the Nat'l Lab as a research physicist). As noted in my post above, she had great appreciation for the lab and its role in being able to know her father.
One of the senior managers at Oak Ridge was a graduate of my small NE high school and returned to give a seminar about their work in 1954 for our 18 person physics class. That presentation confirmed my desire to major in physics for my undergrad degree.
Gary
For about 3 years before she retired, my wife was managing a project that was being performed under contract from her employer (a major US scientific company) by scientists at Los Alamos. Thus, she traveled there frequently for reviews of their progress. She felt it was a very interesting laboratory and small community (also, my neice and her husband lived there for 5-6 years as he was employed at the Nat'l Lab as a research physicist). As noted in my post above, she had great appreciation for the lab and its role in being able to know her father.
One of the senior managers at Oak Ridge was a graduate of my small NE high school and returned to give a seminar about their work in 1954 for our 18 person physics class. That presentation confirmed my desire to major in physics for my undergrad degree.
Gary
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