Happy Birthday to Poster Markle

Happy Birthday....have a great day.

I hope he took a ride on his bike and enjoyed the wind blowing on his face.

Allow me to join others wishing Mr. Markle and great day and a happy birthday!

Thank you, one and all.

My Ol' Man's CO held his orders to go overseas until I was born on D-Day at Camp Blanding Florida.  He was a DI and taught mechanics.  

Later that month he was on a troop ship where he joined the infantry traveling with Patton as a sharpshooter.  He traveled with that army into the Battle of the Bulge.  Sometime in late December, his squad was ordered to take cover in a building by a "90-day wonder".  He argued with him that they were safer taking cover in the streets because the buildings were mined.  "90-day wonders" were 2nd Lt.'s with no battle experience and only 90 days of training.  

The 2nd Lt. led everyone into the building which exploded killing or injuring everyone.  My Ol' Man lost the lower part of his left leg and a piece of shrapnel lodged in his left hand.  The fire from the blast cauterized his leg and slowed the bleeding.  He laid there for two days before medic's reached the area.  He spent the next two years in a Texas VA hospital.

During his time on the front lines, he received two front line promotions, won two Bronze Stars, a Silver Star, a Purple Heart and other citations.

That was all told to me by friends and relatives.  I didn't know about the Bronze Stars and Silver Star until many years after he and my mom had passed and I was cleaning out her things.

He worked as a mechanic for many years after coming home.  He was hard as nails and couldn't comprehend pain in others.  No matter how bad I might have been hurt, or bleed, it was okay so long as I didn't cry.

There was no such "thing" as PTSD in those days.  He was a royal SOB the rest of his life.  I thought we were close, but we never were until the last few years of his life.  

I cared for my mom the last 10 years of her life.  Wonderful years.  I once asked her why she stayed married to him.  Her response was revealing and heartbreaking at the same time, not what happens today.  She said that he didn't come back the same man she married.  She stayed with him because he needed her.  She was much stronger than I ever new.

Markle wrote:Thank you, one and all.

My Ol' Man's CO held his orders to go overseas until I was born on D-Day at Camp Blanding Florida.  He was a DI and taught mechanics.  

Later that month he was on a troop ship where he joined the infantry traveling with Patton as a sharpshooter.  He traveled with that army into the Battle of the Bulge.  Sometime in late December, his squad was ordered to take cover in a building by a "90-day wonder".  He argued with him that they were safer taking cover in the streets because the buildings were mined.  "90-day wonders" were 2nd Lt.'s with no battle experience and only 90 days of training.  

The 2nd Lt. led everyone into the building which exploded killing or injuring everyone.  My Ol' Man lost the lower part of his left leg and a piece of shrapnel lodged in his left hand.  The fire from the blast cauterized his leg and slowed the bleeding.  He laid there for two days before medic's reached the area.  He spent the next two years in a Texas VA hospital.

During his time on the front lines, he received two front line promotions, won two Bronze Stars, a Silver Star, a Purple Heart and other citations.

That was all told to me by friends and relatives.  I didn't know about the Bronze Stars and Silver Star until many years after he and my mom had passed and I was cleaning out her things.

He worked as a mechanic for many years after coming home.  He was hard as nails and couldn't comprehend pain in others.  No matter how bad I might have been hurt, or bleed, it was okay so long as I didn't cry.

There was no such "thing" as PTSD in those days.  He was a royal SOB the rest of his life.  I thought we were close, but we never were until the last few years of his life.  

I cared for my mom the last 10 years of her life.  Wonderful years.  I once asked her why she stayed married to him.  Her response was revealing and heartbreaking at the same time, not what happens today.  She said that he didn't come back the same man she married.  She stayed with him because he needed her.  She was much stronger than I ever new.

Thanks for sharing....your mom was strong.

HBD..!! Just wow... thank you for sharing that story too.

Salinsky wrote:It's unbelievable that two such profoundly unhappy and dissatisfied people could've produced such a maladjusted individual ...

Thanks for not getting mushy on me!

Joanimaroni wrote:

Markle wrote:Thank you, one and all.

My Ol' Man's CO held his orders to go overseas until I was born on D-Day at Camp Blanding Florida.  He was a DI and taught mechanics.  

Later that month he was on a troop ship where he joined the infantry traveling with Patton as a sharpshooter.  He traveled with that army into the Battle of the Bulge.  Sometime in late December, his squad was ordered to take cover in a building by a "90-day wonder".  He argued with him that they were safer taking cover in the streets because the buildings were mined.  "90-day wonders" were 2nd Lt.'s with no battle experience and only 90 days of training.  

The 2nd Lt. led everyone into the building which exploded killing or injuring everyone.  My Ol' Man lost the lower part of his left leg and a piece of shrapnel lodged in his left hand.  The fire from the blast cauterized his leg and slowed the bleeding.  He laid there for two days before medic's reached the area.  He spent the next two years in a Texas VA hospital.

During his time on the front lines, he received two front line promotions, won two Bronze Stars, a Silver Star, a Purple Heart and other citations.

That was all told to me by friends and relatives.  I didn't know about the Bronze Stars and Silver Star until many years after he and my mom had passed and I was cleaning out her things.

He worked as a mechanic for many years after coming home.  He was hard as nails and couldn't comprehend pain in others.  No matter how bad I might have been hurt, or bleed, it was okay so long as I didn't cry.

There was no such "thing" as PTSD in those days.  He was a royal SOB the rest of his life.  I thought we were close, but we never were until the last few years of his life.  

I cared for my mom the last 10 years of her life.  Wonderful years.  I once asked her why she stayed married to him.  Her response was revealing and heartbreaking at the same time, not what happens today.  She said that he didn't come back the same man she married.  She stayed with him because he needed her.  She was much stronger than I ever new.

Thanks for sharing....your mom was strong.

I never realized how strong.

Markle wrote:Thank you, one and all.

My Ol' Man's CO held his orders to go overseas until I was born on D-Day at Camp Blanding Florida.  He was a DI and taught mechanics.  

Later that month he was on a troop ship where he joined the infantry traveling with Patton as a sharpshooter.  He traveled with that army into the Battle of the Bulge.  Sometime in late December, his squad was ordered to take cover in a building by a "90-day wonder".  He argued with him that they were safer taking cover in the streets because the buildings were mined.  "90-day wonders" were 2nd Lt.'s with no battle experience and only 90 days of training.  

The 2nd Lt. led everyone into the building which exploded killing or injuring everyone.  My Ol' Man lost the lower part of his left leg and a piece of shrapnel lodged in his left hand.  The fire from the blast cauterized his leg and slowed the bleeding.  He laid there for two days before medic's reached the area.  He spent the next two years in a Texas VA hospital.

During his time on the front lines, he received two front line promotions, won two Bronze Stars, a Silver Star, a Purple Heart and other citations.

That was all told to me by friends and relatives.  I didn't know about the Bronze Stars and Silver Star until many years after he and my mom had passed and I was cleaning out her things.

He worked as a mechanic for many years after coming home.  He was hard as nails and couldn't comprehend pain in others.  No matter how bad I might have been hurt, or bleed, it was okay so long as I didn't cry.

There was no such "thing" as PTSD in those days.  He was a royal SOB the rest of his life.  I thought we were close, but we never were until the last few years of his life.  

I cared for my mom the last 10 years of her life.  Wonderful years.  I once asked her why she stayed married to him.  Her response was revealing and heartbreaking at the same time, not what happens today.  She said that he didn't come back the same man she married.  She stayed with him because he needed her.  She was much stronger than I ever new.

What a martyr. She stayed w/somebody who made both your lives miserable.