Battlefield return brings closure for WWII Veterans

WINTERSCHEID, Germany, May 11 (Reuters) – It has taken more than 60 years, but gazing down a ridge over a former battlefield near Germany’s border with Belgium, Stan Tuhoski believes he has finally found closure from the greatest trauma of his life.

Now a frail 81-year-old, the Polish-American was just a teenager when he was caught up in the Battle of the Bulge, the bloodiest single engagement for U.S. forces in World War Two. Captured by German troops as they overran his raw, unprepared division in December 1944, he survived death marches and the horrors of prison camps, but returned home broken and verging on suicide.

“I would sit down and cry and cry and cry,” he said, explaining how he needed psychological counselling to allow him to stabilise his life and raise a family, including two sons who were to die in the American war in Vietnam a generation later.

But it took a return to the rolling forested battlefield of the Ardennes stretching through parts of Belgium, Luxembourg and France to come to terms fully with his wartime nightmare. “I can get it out of my mind now,” he said during a trip with 19 other American veterans organised by a U.S. charity.

“Before I kept thinking: what was I doing over there and why did I do what I did, you know? I’ve come over now and I’ve got a clear mind. I can go back and forget about it.

” Tuhoski, a former factory worker from Greig, New York state, was only able to make the trip thanks to Greatest Generations Foundation, a non-profit organisation established in 2004.

“In the United States, a lot of veterans in their 80s and 90s do not have the funding to return,” said Australian Timothy Davis, who set up the foundation having been inspired by a grandfather who fought alongside U.S. forces in the Pacific.

1,500 VETERANS DYING EVERY DAY The Colorado-based organisation has so far helped six groups of about 20 World War Two veterans return to Europe. Davis said that with America’s 1.8 million World War Two veterans dying at the rate of 1,500 a day, time was running out for those who want to make similar trips before they die.

“Before too long there is only going to be a small handful of veterans to keep the legacy alive,” he said. The latest trip began with a visit to D-Day’s Omaha beach in Normandy, France before heading eastwards to the Ardennes. The veterans will later take in the former German concentration camp at Dachau and Nazi leader Adolf Hitler’s mountain-top headquarters in Berchtesgaden, in the Bavarian Alps.

Shep Waldman, a former staff sergeant from Denver, Colorado, said he had always believed himself unscarred emotionally from his combat experience, but years later suddenly experienced flashbacks in which he imagined himself back in battle. He said had never been able to afford to return to Europe and it had been an important catharsis.

“I wanted to see it one more time. I wanted to make sure it was OK — that I could walk along Omaha Beach and not see 5,000 ships from the invasion force out at sea or a sniper behind me.

” U.S. businessman Jeffrey Rosenthal helped finance the veterans’ return. He said it was important to keep the memory of what they did alive. “These gentlemen oftentimes have gotten lost,” he said.

“People often don’t want to hear their stories any more. They don’t realise that but for these men and others like them who gave their lives, we wouldn’t have the freedom we have today.

” Davis said the foundation had a waiting list of 11,000 veterans and aimed to expand its trips to Vietnam and Korea. But with each visit to Europe costing $3,000 per head it currently had only enough funds for two more groups. It aimed to raise more money from big corporations, not just in the United States, but in the European Union and the Pacific.

“We really need to look at what this generation has made for us,” he said. “It’s time for all of us to say thank you.”

World War II Enemies no more

Berchtesgaden, Germany – Jewish American veteran Shep Waldman knew exactly what he would do when he came face to face with the former enemy at the Eagle’s Nest, Adolf Hitler’s mountain retreat. Approaching a German veteran equally burdened by age and war memories, the former U.S. Army sergeant let out a friendly greeting: “Comrade,” he said. “Comrade,” pondered Alois Wuerzer, struggling with the English, a puzzled look on his face. Then his weary eyes lit up.

“Kamerad,” he repeated – which in German also means “friend.” Weathered hands stretched out, and one of the past century’s bitterest divides was bridged with a handshake.

The men were brought together amid the pristine peaks of the Bavarian Alps by the Greatest Generations Foundation of Denver, which seeks to give veterans the opportunity to visit old battlegrounds. Arranging a meeting with German vets was controversial, as was moving deep into Germany – a journey that chilled some of the 23 Americans and Canadians in the group.

Standing at the Eagle’s Nest, another Jewish American veteran could not bring himself to join in the reconciliation.

“I was not going to get involved in that,” said former Pfc. Cy Marmelstein, who had already taken a big emotional step by entering Germany again for the first time since World War II.

The encounter at the Eagle’s Nest took place May 12, and the veterans had already toured England, Normandy, Belgium and Luxembourg before heading to Germany – among thousands of U.S. veterans visiting Europe ahead of the June 6 anniversary of the D-Day invasion of 1944. Waldman said he knew Jews who were persecuted before the war.

“For two years, the rabbi, it was all he spoke about. It didn’t quite register at that moment. I could not visualize it,” he said, remembering his teenage days in Denver. He volunteered for the Army in 1943 and was sent to Europe. He found himself in a German village in street-to-street combat. Stepping around a corner, he stood face to face with a German soldier.

“I saw him, I had him, he was meat as far as I was concerned,” Waldman, 83, remembered. “His eyes popped, and that poor kid was shivering and shaking. I said, ‘I can’t kill him. No way I can kill a young man like that.”‘ Waldman told him to drop the gun and run. The German did. Even though Waldman, then 19, later killed a German in hand-to-hand combat, his compassion never left him. That made it easier to make peace with himself, he said, and enmity toward the Germans slowly left.

“I have gone through that,” Waldman said of coming to terms with the horrors of war and the Holocaust. “It took a long time, probably 20 years. Now, no more nightmares.”

But time has not dulled his awareness of what Jews faced under Hitler. On his last day in Germany, he went to a commemoration at the Dachau concentration camp and read the Kaddish, the Jewish memorial prayer for the dead.

“I am glad I went,” Waldman said. The handshake also left its mark in Kisslegg, Bavaria, where Wuerzer, 85, a former senior noncommissioned officer in the Wehrmacht, is enjoying retirement.

“I was so totally surprised” by the handshake, Wuerzer said. “They are good people. It is good for two enemies to talk to one another.”