My Mother & Father

Hello everyone and thanks for stopping by. Yesterday i had sometime to think in between taking care of my son and his friends, doing the laundry and cleaning. My thoughts were of how should i start this off since Ive never written a book before, i don't think i ever did more than write essay,s in school, but anyway i figured i should start off with telling a little about the wonderful but late male and female i called 'mom' and 'dad', i will try to make this as short as possible, i promise it wont hurt. My Father was Born in New York in January of 1927 to Polish immigrants who came to America in there teens to escape world war one, they then moved to Hamtramck Michigan (Pole Town) when my dad was in his teens. My dad had finished out his high school year a Saint Florian High School, my dad graduated in 1943 and immediately joined the Army to go fight in WWII, he was first assigned to the 7Th Cavalry and then trained at Fort Knox Kentucky to be a Tanker, he later would work as a radio operator in a Light Tank assigned with Patton's 3rd Tank Division where he was sent to Europe and was part of the replacements and a clean up operation after the invasion of Normandy, his assignment was to flush out any remaining Axis Soldiers mainly German's, he took lots of pictures while he was there but never spoke a word of what he went through, he would take out his black and white pictures that told his story from beginning to end. The first few pictures had showed him waving from a troop transport ship leaving New York for Britain, the next were pictures of him smiling with his friends and posing and one of them in front of there Tank, the next few were not so light hearted, they show pictures of V-2 Rockets in various stages of assembly with a dead soldier here and there, my dad and his group came across a hidden V-2 Rocket factory and over ran it,the next few were even darker as they showed the discovery of several 'Death Camps', there was a picture of my dad standing at a oven,the look on his face was blank and dead just like all of Hitlers victims, the pictures usually would stop there and my dad would grab a beer and light a smoke, you could tell he was back in the war so we never said anything to him and he never spoke a word to us, he took what he had seen and did in Europe during WWII to his grave. I know this has nothing to do with the topic of this blog/book, but i believe its important because my dad had a very profound affect on my life. Thank You and God Bless, i also ask you to come back soon and often and to also leave your own comments or story, and if you have the means i would please ask you to donate to this site and help fight Cancer, if not than i sincerely hope everyone enjoys reading my Blog and with a little luck learn a few things and maybe help those of you who are in a similar situation./ Please use the Paypal Button to donate to this site and help fight 'Cancer"