Saftey First

Pa had phantom pains from his missing leg for decades.

 

Nidge says...
Urk

#Sometimes its hard to be a woman

IME a long time, my toe still itches like hell occasionally despite us
parting company some 15+ years ago.

 

Didn't someone invent a cure for this sort of thing, using mirrors or
something?

 

My late Grandfather lost both his legs at the thigh in a railway accident
[1] in the thirties; I don't know a bout phantom pain but if I remember
the swearing he was in a lot of pain when I sidled up to him and operated
the knee bend lever on /one/ of his tin legs. It was a bit like the
military scout walker thing in Return of the Jedi.

By **** I got a beating for that.


[1] As a fourteen year old he tried to beat a train across a
level crossing, somewhere in Salford, and the train won.

 

Dunno (well, obviously....)

The actual way it was/is lost probably counts. Swift amputation by a
sharp object, within easy reach of medical care... bad.

In Pa's case, getting on the wrong side of an angry German armed with a
Spandau, and then spending 24 hours in a casualty clearing station
before getting to a field hospital and having a field amputation...
worse.

Then some years later, going under the knife again to have the stump
"tidied up" because (as can be imagined) the 1944 field amputation
wasn't done quite how the Royal College of Surgeons would have liked to
have seen it done... worse still.

I have *immense* respect for anyone who fought in WW2, irrespective of
which country or regime they were fighting for at the time. Nothing
that's happened since has ever got close.

 

The Older Gentleman says...

Ouch, my toe causes me enough grief, losing a leg must be a 1000 times
worse.

 

This has always made me wonder (and no disrespect to your Grandpa)

How the **** *can* people get run over by a train? I mean, it's not as
if you can't see and hear the damn thing coming, but kids (and adults)
manage to head-butt them with monotonous regularity and - as you say -
never come off best.

 

War is the same no matter what era: modern or medieavel - even the Yanks
in Iraq - if they've taken hits to the stomach or chest they're still
going to be lying in a foreign land with their comrades shouting and
screaming; ordnance going off around them; the taste of rancid aluminium;
a sudden odd thirst; wondering why it was them and wanting their Mothers.

Your post vaguely reminds me of a film (IIRC) where an American declares
his favourite war to be W W 2. "Favourite" and "war being an amusing
construct.

 

I far as I can remember (this was never a dinner table topic) it was in
fog, over an ungated crossing in amongst the terraces of Salford
(Patricroft area) and he misjudged it. I'd imagine he and his bicycle
were clipped by the engine and dragged in by the valve gear.

As to others it's generally people don't 'see' - as in register its
pertinence - the crossing and walk or drive into the side of the train;
or just try to beat the train and misjudge it.

Trains move a **** sight faster and quieter than you think and as you
tend not to get a three quarters view it's difficult to comprehend the
distance/time thing.

 

You will not believe how quite trains are in fog. I know through
experience that 3000hp of diesel and 2000t of train are like ninja
warriors.

 

I'll take your word for this. They always seem to make a lot of noise to
me. And I'd have thought you'd hear the rails "singing" long in advance
- or this a Hollywood myth?

Yes, this I can understand.

 

Oh yes, indeed. But WW2 was nastier, more brutal, and a fucking sight
*longer* than most. I was really thinking of the fact that you were
drafted, and the chances were that once you were posted overseas, you
weren't going to see your family, home or friends again for *years*. And
that's assumig you survived.

Plus there were rather fewer of the creature comforts of today.
Infrequent and tardy mail, and much, much worse medical care. Though I
imagine being a footsoldier in the Middle Ages wouldn't have been a
bundle of laughs.

Indeed. It's just that WW2 had casualty figures, and casualty rates,
that few modern armies would tolerate today.

The casualty rate in Pa's commando was 90% - about the same as in
U-boats, IIRC. And I'm sure the casualty rate in some units on the
Russian Front were higher.

 

Is a Berlin castle an offensive weapon?

 

Interesting. As ever, ukrm is a mine of info.

I was reading recently about the difficulties the captains of ocean
liners had in navigating through fog (in the days before radar) off the
east coast of the US - Newfoundland, and also off New York.

Ships make quite a noise, and so to hear other ships, sight being near
impossible, they'd creep along slowly, almost in "silent running mode".

Trouble was, so would the other ships....

 

A what???

 

Or try to be a smart-arse and beat the gates coming down (remember the
full gates before our 'modern' barriers?) only for your car to stall
and then get trapped between said gates with a train heading towards
you.

Ouch.

--
Lesley
CBR600FW
SBS#11 (with oak-leaf cluster)
BOTAFOT#101A UKRMHRC#12
BONY#54P BOB#18
Real burds don't take hormones, they rage naturally

 

A what???[/QUOTE]

Spandau. Think Hess.

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Spandau. Think Hess.[/QUOTE]

That's the place.
Never heard of a Spandau machine gun until TOG mentioned it.
Apologies for any offence.

 

Korean war was 4 years, Vietnam was over 14 years, Iran - Iraq was 8
years, USSR - Afghan war was 10 years etc, etc. Of course the above
weren't fought with the niceties of rules or conventions in mind. Why
should the theatres of operations 1939 - 1945 be considered any different?

Don't be distracted by the belief that just because we had family or
national involvement it made their sacrifice of suffering any greater
than anyone else in any other battle.

The point I'm making is it doesn't matter if it was a just war or if you
were on a one year tour (the NVA or Vietcong didn't have that particular
option) especially to the frightened man/boy trying to hold his stomach
in whilst he bled to death.

 

On the other hand, I'm constantly amazed[1] by people who drive on to our
local level crossing, slow down to a near-standstill with one axle on the
down line and one on the up, and look left and right for oncoming trains
before moving on