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Do you know this motherfucker?

308pirate

Gunny Sergeant
Full Member
Minuteman
  • Apr 25, 2017
    24,486
    38,696
    Cause this is one bad ass motherfucker

    1665694583923.png


    Lieutenant Colonel Robert "Rosie" Rosenthal (June 11, 1917 – April 20, 2007) was an American lawyer and bomber pilot. A highly decorated officer of the Eighth Air Force of the United States Army Air Forces in World War II, he received sixteen awards including the Distinguished Service Cross for "extraordinary heroism in connection with military operations against the enemy," the Silver Star (with oak leaf cluster) for "gallantry in action," the Distinguished Flying Cross (with oak leaf cluster) for "heroism or extraordinary achievement during aerial flight", the Air Medal (with seven clusters) and the Purple Heart (with cluster), as well as the Distinguished Flying Cross from Great Britain and the Croix de Guerre from France. In March 1944, Rosenthal's crew, nicknamed "Rosie's Riveters", with their B-17F, serial number 42-30758 bearing the same name, completed their 25-mission combat tour and returned to the United States, but Rosenthal extended his tour, eventually flying a total of 52 missions.

    Why did he fly 52 missions? Because he wanted to kill Nazis that bad.
     
    Because he wanted to kill Nazis that bad.
    That's because he's a lansman of mine.

    My uncle flew B-24's out of England in WW II. He would NEVER say a word about it...not..one..word...ever. He took whatever nightmare memories and fears with him to the grave.

    They were real men. I'm a pussy in comparison.

    If interested, read Wild Blue by Stephen Ambrose. I was well into the book before I realized that the "McGovern" he was writing about was the pacifist Dem Sen and Presidential candidate George McGovern. 35 missions and the Distinguished Flying Cross. I suppose that kind of experience may well make a pacifist out of you though I never agreed with his politics or policies.

    It is a great book and Ambrose is a great historian of WW II.

    Amazon product ASIN 0743223098
     
    Cause this is one bad ass motherfucker

    View attachment 7975882



    Why did he fly 52 missions? Because he wanted to kill Nazis that bad.
    And everybody makes a big deal about the B-17...much sexier looking (and way more robust) aircraft... but the ungainly and fucking plain old deadly B-24 carried the heavy water for the Army Air Corp. Dropped more tonnage of bombs...and lost far more crews...than the B-17. But anybody who went up on those missions in either plane had to have big brass balls
     
    Men were men back then These are pics of my grandpa who served as a rear gunner on a bomber in WWII. he shot down multiple Japanese Zeros in combat I’m fortunate to have learned from him, hunted with him, and these pictures are treasures. View attachment 7975927
    Its awesome that you have these pics and those experiences. Just awesome.
     
    Had a seventh grade teacher, Mr. C. He was about 5'5" and missing an eye and had limited movement of one arm. Was a tail gunner on a B24. Shot down on the Ploesti raid and spent the rest of the war in a pow camp.
    One of the nicest and humble men I've ever met, he passed about 10 years ago.
    Still 7 feet tall in my book.
     
    Had a seventh grade teacher, Mr. C. He was about 5'5" and missing an eye and had limited movement of one arm. Was a tail gunner on a B24. Shot down on the Ploesti raid and spent the rest of the war in a pow camp.
    One of the nicest and humble men I've ever met, he passed about 10 years ago.
    Still 7 feet tall in my book.
    I did chores around the farm for one of my grandpa's buddies, he was also a B24 tail gunner. Shot down four times, 3 over German territory that he walked out from getting shot three times in the process and one time over the English channel. He walked though clearly in pain in the local 4th of July parade every year in his ARMY uniform that still fit 50 years later. I worked for him for pennies just to hear the stories he would tell. RIP Mr. Baker. Those men truly were the greatest generation.
     
    My dad was aboard a destroyer in the South Pacific. He enlisted right out of high school.One of his best friends was a Pearl Harbor survivor. He never spoke about what he did but I know he manned those pom pom guns. I was able to get a hold of his diary when he died which no one knew he had and wasnt suppose to have. Reading the thoughts of an 18 year old thousands of miles from home on a ship during was fascinating and scary since it was my dad.Many diary entries were cut short with the words Uh oh have to go kamikazes at it again.They were really the greatest generation. Saw it all,did it all and never wavered.
     
    Had a seventh grade teacher, Mr. C. He was about 5'5" and missing an eye and had limited movement of one arm. Was a tail gunner on a B24. Shot down on the Ploesti raid and spent the rest of the war in a pow camp.
    One of the nicest and humble men I've ever met, he passed about 10 years ago.
    Still 7 feet tall in my book.
    I did chores around the farm for one of my grandpa's buddies, he was also a B24 tail gunner. Shot down four times, 3 over German territory that he walked out from getting shot three times in the process and one time over the English channel. He walked though clearly in pain in the local 4th of July parade every year in his ARMY uniform that still fit 50 years later. I worked for him for pennies just to hear the stories he would tell. RIP Mr. Baker. Those men truly were the greatest generation.

    May have told this one before. So bear with me...

    When I was in high school my best friend had a gig at the local gas station. He went in for 2 hours every weeknight and stocked shelves, mopped the floor, and was basically a "male body" on site if anyone gave gal running the register any trouble... He made a few bucks and the gal behind the register had some backup when closing time was near.

    Anyway, there was one customer who came in a lot. Little old man named Bill. He shuffled when he walked, you could tell it wasn't easy for him. His speech was also a bit slurred, like he had suffered a stroke. I really thought he was a bit annoying. Then I noticed he had a tag on the front of his vehicle... Had a plane on it. His rear tag was a POW tag. Dude had been on a bomber crew. His plane was shot down and he spent the rest of WW2 in a POW camp.

    I can't remember if the plane on the tag was a B-24 or B-25... I do remember that it wasn't a B-17. Anyhow, I realized that little old man had been a badass back in the day.

    I've read 2 different sets of stats on bomber crew mortality... One was 1 in 4, the other 1 in 3. So split the difference and call it an even 30%.

    Now take 10 people you know and imagine 3 of them dying every time they all walked out the door.

    And they volunteered for it.

    Those young men were made of iron.

    Mike
     
    May have told this one before. So bear with me...

    When I was in high school my best friend had a gig at the local gas station. He went in for 2 hours every weeknight and stocked shelves, mopped the floor, and was basically a "male body" on site if anyone gave gal running the register any trouble... He made a few bucks and the gal behind the register had some backup when closing time was near.

    Anyway, there was one customer who came in a lot. Little old man named Bill. He shuffled when he walked, you could tell it wasn't easy for him. His speech was also a bit slurred, like he had suffered a stroke. I really thought he was a bit annoying. Then I noticed he had a tag on the front of his vehicle... Had a plane on it. His rear tag was a POW tag. Dude had been on a bomber crew. His plane was shot down and he spent the rest of WW2 in a POW camp.

    I can't remember if the plane on the tag was a B-24 or B-25... I do remember that it wasn't a B-17. Anyhow, I realized that little old man had been a badass back in the day.

    I've read 2 different sets of stats on bomber crew mortality... One was 1 in 4, the other 1 in 3. So split the difference and call it an even 30%.

    Now take 10 people you know and imagine 3 of them dying every time they all walked out the door.

    And they volunteered for it.

    Those young men were made of iron.

    Mike
    Lots of them in their teens as well. Anyone care to wager how many present day flakes would sign up?
     
    My Dad was a tail gunner on B-24s out of Italy. 42 missions, shot down twice, once in Yugoslavia and once in N France. His entire crew was rescued by US Infantry in France and he was carried out with tore up leg.
    We never got along too well and I lived with my Grandparents most of the time when young.
    That changed a bit but not a lot when I got home from RVN as he knew what Infantry was.
    I remember telling him one night after a few coolie loolies that I thought they had it worse up in the air than we did on the ground and he asked me why?
    I told him,"I could dig in or hide somewhere when shit hit the fan except when on the helicopters. You can't dig a foxhole in the air." RIP Dad I am sure he never forgot his days in the air.
     
    my grandfather wanted to be on the bombers but his eyes kept him in infantry. He signed up on his 18th bday and went to war. He was with Patton the entire war. The war affected him greatly, drank a lot after the war and saw things he only mentioned on few occasion. Watch saving private ryan with him and he just broke down in tears. He took home quite a trove of things and I have many of them. He's 99, they did a story on him in VT a few years ago for the nightly news. Said he always remembered dead child in a town in Germany staring up at him with bright blue eyes, that image haunts him and I don't know the full story of it but my guess is he had something to do with the dead bodies they walked in on after. His commentary to that was always a half story. I don't ask for more from him, it's his story to keep. He always says, 'those 88s were the only thing that truly scared me and the krauts used them effectively breaking out of Normandy. Met my french grandmother and married her only returning to the states after degaulle kicked out the Americans. All of them are more badass than anyone I know or have met. I buy those ww2 vets coffee, breakfast or the like everytime I see or run into them.