D-Day is coming up (6. June 1944)

Was in Normandy last week. The 1500 metal cut out soldier silhouettes at the new British Cemetery are truly fantastic,
 
There is a beauty to commemorate doing the air displays this year.

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So many brave lads died. On both sides. Most of them just ordinary chaps snatched out of factories and offices.

War is shite, and it only happens because there's always some imbecile like Kaiser Bill, or Adolf, or Putin. I don't think we (humans) will ever learn.
 
My Grandad was already fighting in Europe when D-Day happened, he was a Desert Rat and was in Italy.

It is generally believed that it was Lady Astor MP who first called the men of the 8th Army who were fighting in the Italian Campaign 'D-Day Dodgers'. But then, she was known to say many things she must have regretted. She was the one who once famously chided Winston Churchill for being drunk - to which he countered that she was ugly, and at least he would be sober in the morning! During another encounter with the Prime Minister she said that if he were her husband, she would give him poison. He replied that if he were her husband, he would drink it.

The fact is that the 8th Army were more than displeased to be called 'D-Day Dodgers', and with good reason. Since 1941, they'd had quite enough D-Day to last a lifetime during the North African and Italian campaigns: El Alamein, Tripoli, Mareth, Tunis, Sicily, Calabria, Algiers, Salerno, Anzio, and then the slog through the mountains of Italy.

The only way to deal with this slur was to laugh, and so a song was composed to the tune of 'Lili Marlene', the haunting song by Marlene Dietrich.

The 8th Army version went like this:

We are the D-Day Dodgers, out in Italy,
Always on the vino, always on a spree,
8th Army skivers and their tanks,
We go to war, in ties and slacks,
We are the D-Day Dodgers, in sunny Italy.

We fought into Agira, a holiday with pay,
Jerry brought his bands out to cheer us on our way,
Showed us the sights and gave us tea,
We all sang songs, the beer was free,
We are the D-Day Dodgers, in sunny Italy.

The Moro and Ortona were taken in our stride,
We didn't really fight there, we went there for the ride,
Sleeping 'til noon and playing games,
We live in Rome with lots of dames,
We are the D-Day Dodgers, in sunny Italy.

On our way to Florence, we had a lovely time,
We drove a bus from Rimini, right through the Gothic Line,
Then to Bologna we did go,
We all went swimming in the Po,
We are the D-Day Dodgers, in sunny Italy.

We hear the boys in France are going home on leave,
After six months service, such a shame they're not relieved.
We were told to carry on a few more years,
Because our wives don't shed no tears,
We are the D-Day Dodgers, in sunny Italy.

We are the D-Day Dodgers, way out in Italy.
We're always tight, we cannot fight.
What bloody use are we
 
My Grandad was already fighting in Europe when D-Day happened, he was a Desert Rat and was in Italy.

It is generally believed that it was Lady Astor MP who first called the men of the 8th Army who were fighting in the Italian Campaign 'D-Day Dodgers'. But then, she was known to say many things she must have regretted. She was the one who once famously chided Winston Churchill for being drunk - to which he countered that she was ugly, and at least he would be sober in the morning! During another encounter with the Prime Minister she said that if he were her husband, she would give him poison. He replied that if he were her husband, he would drink it.

The fact is that the 8th Army were more than displeased to be called 'D-Day Dodgers', and with good reason. Since 1941, they'd had quite enough D-Day to last a lifetime during the North African and Italian campaigns: El Alamein, Tripoli, Mareth, Tunis, Sicily, Calabria, Algiers, Salerno, Anzio, and then the slog through the mountains of Italy.

The only way to deal with this slur was to laugh, and so a song was composed to the tune of 'Lili Marlene', the haunting song by Marlene Dietrich.

The 8th Army version went like this:

We are the D-Day Dodgers, out in Italy,
Always on the vino, always on a spree,
8th Army skivers and their tanks,
We go to war, in ties and slacks,
We are the D-Day Dodgers, in sunny Italy.

We fought into Agira, a holiday with pay,
Jerry brought his bands out to cheer us on our way,
Showed us the sights and gave us tea,
We all sang songs, the beer was free,
We are the D-Day Dodgers, in sunny Italy.

The Moro and Ortona were taken in our stride,
We didn't really fight there, we went there for the ride,
Sleeping 'til noon and playing games,
We live in Rome with lots of dames,
We are the D-Day Dodgers, in sunny Italy.

On our way to Florence, we had a lovely time,
We drove a bus from Rimini, right through the Gothic Line,
Then to Bologna we did go,
We all went swimming in the Po,
We are the D-Day Dodgers, in sunny Italy.

We hear the boys in France are going home on leave,
After six months service, such a shame they're not relieved.
We were told to carry on a few more years,
Because our wives don't shed no tears,
We are the D-Day Dodgers, in sunny Italy.

We are the D-Day Dodgers, way out in Italy.
We're always tight, we cannot fight.
What bloody use are we

Wasn’t that campaign a dry run for d day anyway? I’m sure you know mate but there is a memorial to the rats near Thetford in Norfolk as it’s the only place they were ever based in UK.
 
My Grandad was already fighting in Europe when D-Day happened, he was a Desert Rat and was in Italy.

It is generally believed that it was Lady Astor MP who first called the men of the 8th Army who were fighting in the Italian Campaign 'D-Day Dodgers'. But then, she was known to say many things she must have regretted. She was the one who once famously chided Winston Churchill for being drunk - to which he countered that she was ugly, and at least he would be sober in the morning! During another encounter with the Prime Minister she said that if he were her husband, she would give him poison. He replied that if he were her husband, he would drink it.

The fact is that the 8th Army were more than displeased to be called 'D-Day Dodgers', and with good reason. Since 1941, they'd had quite enough D-Day to last a lifetime during the North African and Italian campaigns: El Alamein, Tripoli, Mareth, Tunis, Sicily, Calabria, Algiers, Salerno, Anzio, and then the slog through the mountains of Italy.

The only way to deal with this slur was to laugh, and so a song was composed to the tune of 'Lili Marlene', the haunting song by Marlene Dietrich.

The 8th Army version went like this:

We are the D-Day Dodgers, out in Italy,
Always on the vino, always on a spree,
8th Army skivers and their tanks,
We go to war, in ties and slacks,
We are the D-Day Dodgers, in sunny Italy.

We fought into Agira, a holiday with pay,
Jerry brought his bands out to cheer us on our way,
Showed us the sights and gave us tea,
We all sang songs, the beer was free,
We are the D-Day Dodgers, in sunny Italy.

The Moro and Ortona were taken in our stride,
We didn't really fight there, we went there for the ride,
Sleeping 'til noon and playing games,
We live in Rome with lots of dames,
We are the D-Day Dodgers, in sunny Italy.

On our way to Florence, we had a lovely time,
We drove a bus from Rimini, right through the Gothic Line,
Then to Bologna we did go,
We all went swimming in the Po,
We are the D-Day Dodgers, in sunny Italy.

We hear the boys in France are going home on leave,
After six months service, such a shame they're not relieved.
We were told to carry on a few more years,
Because our wives don't shed no tears,
We are the D-Day Dodgers, in sunny Italy.

We are the D-Day Dodgers, way out in Italy.
We're always tight, we cannot fight.
What bloody use are we

Familiar with this as my Dad was a D-Day Dodger. He didn't talk much about the war but I don't think being in the 8th was quite the holiday in the sun some might have thought. I have a few of the things he brought back, along with his campaign medals, much of it standard issue but a few personal things too such as a number of delicate Italian prayer cards that were somehow still intact on the floor of a bombed out house they found themselves in at Casino. As a Catholic he was upset by the idea of the Virgin Mary being trampled underfoot so he rescued them and carried them with him for the rest of the war. I didn't really push him to talk about his experiences partly because I was too busy running around living the type of life he and so many others fought for us to have. I sometimes wish I had asked more but in reality I don't think he wanted to discuss it either. I'm not sure I ever even explicitly said thank you to him, though doubtless any direct expression of emotion would have meant he would have just muttered something and then hid behind his Evening News :-)
 
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My father hardly ever spoke about the war, and my uncle, who was out in Burma, still less.

They had both seen dreadful things with their own eyes, and I think they just wanted to forget. My father never wore his medals, and they seemed to be just junk in his eyes, discarded in an old tin. You would never get him near any sort of ceremony or parade, that's for sure. It was as if it was all a horrible nightmare that they did not want to dwell on. My Dad was at Belsen for starters. God alone knows what my uncle saw.
 

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