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WWII - Soldiers' Memories

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My husband has had dreams since he was 5 years old (in Mexico, 1969 and no TV) about a pilot dying in either WWI or WWII. The dream still haunts him to this day and he is now 37. He can't watch any type of war movie at all. When we went to Hawaii for our honeymoon, he didn't even want to go near the Pearl Harbor Memorial. We talked about it many times and agreed that he was having a past life memory. Well, this past November a helicopter happened to fly over our home in the early morning while he was still sleeping. He sat up in bed and said in a very strange voice, "It's the JAPS. They've got their guns." I looked at him in shock! First of all, in the 10 years I have known him, not once has he said the term, "JAPS." He just layed back down and went back to sleep though. I later told him about it and he had this look of amazement on his face. He said it all clicked then.



New Member
WWII belly gunner on a B-17

When I was a child, I'm 36 now, I always had a strong feeling that I would die young (in this life), specifically in a war. Of course as a kid back in the 70's, our country was in the midst of a cold war with Russia and I felt that this may eventually lead to actual conflict--I'm glad this scenario never played itself out by the way--but back then, it seemed like a real possiblility. I assumed that I would eventually participate in this conflict and die in it.

Later I discovered through regression and actual dreams that I DID die young--in my prior life as WWII belly gunner on a B-17.

I have always been "drawn" to that period in American history and decided to explore why. I knew what the answer would be , but I wanted to find out the specifics.

We were on a bombing run over Germany and the gun turret I was in took a direct hit from enemy flack. I was killed instantly. I believe that I was between 19 and 21 yrs old when this happened. The mortal wound was in my lower back. Oddly, in this life I have had on going back problems for years and the doctors have not been able to find anything wrong.


New Member
Pilot for the Soviet Air Force - shot down by Germans

I was very ill last year with a serious ailment, and wanted to be hyponotized to try and enable me to resist the physical pain I was in. I booked an appointment with a trained hypnotist I was referred to by my mother, and when she arrived at my front door, the first thing she said to me was, "At ease, soldier."

I'm not used to being greeted like that, but saw no problem with it.I showed her in, she explained "the deal" to me, and I lay down.

I went under very quickly, and before she could really begin to address my pain, I began speaking as someone else. I was a pilot for the Sovjet Air Force, and I was furious at having been shot down and killed by the Germans.

My hypnotist was rather surprised by this, but I must say, she recovered nicely. She asked me to describe what was happening. I told her, in great detail, that I was flying a scouting mission over enemy-held territory, calling in artillery strikes against German positions. Intelligence had suggested that there would be little or no German air power in this region, which is why I wasn't paying attention to possible air threats. Out of nowhere, two planes I've since identified through books as Bf-109s came at me from above, and from an angle that forced me to stare at the sun in order to see them.

I attempted to evade and fight back, but before I could recover from my surprise, I remember feeling a series of powerful impacts across my right side. I lasted just long enough to see a spurt of blood erupt from me and land on my controls.

Immediately after that rather unpleasant sight, my anger and fear faded, and I began speaking very calmly. I told my lovely hypnotist that I moved very quickly into my current life from that one, carrying a great deal of "blood-lust" with me. For me, a 19 year old Canadian, the war isn't over yet.

Peter V

Senior Registered
Canadian soldier in the fight for Caen, France

I also believe I died in WWII, only as a Canadian soldier in the fight for Caen, France.

I have a round, 9mm-wide birthmark on my chest directly over my heart. When I was born I had too much tissue on one of my valves in my heart and they had to go in and scrape it off.

The valve is, coincidently, directly under my birthmark. Perhaps the extra skin was "scar tissue" of sorts from my most previous life?

Jonny Of The Wolfkin

Senior Registered
German Tank Commander

I was a German Tank Commander during WWII. I believe I was conscripted a few years before the war began and I was chosen for the Tank forces because of my mechanical aptitude.

I fought in most of the major campaigns as the commander of a battle tank. Poland in 1939, France in 1940, Russia in 1941 until early 1944, Normandy in 1944, Ardennes in late 1944, early 1945. I believe I must have been killed during some of the last fighting, sometime between April and May 1945, when British and U.S. forces encircled many German units in what became known as the "Ruhr Pocket".

I realize that my past life fought for a country that was under the control of an evil regime. In my last life I was a simple soldier. I fought with courage and honour. I was too busy on the front lines all the time to realize the terrible atrocities that were happening. Maybe there was a reason that they kept us soldiers constantly committed in battle, they knew that their dictatorship would surely crumble from a military revolt.


This post and discussion is continued in the thread Anyone have past lives as a soldier in WW II?


Senior Registered
Part of a bomber crew

I vividly recall one of my own past life experiences in WWII. I was completely conscious of myself in this life as this experience took place.

I was a part of a bomber crew and our plane was parked on a landing strip. We were waiting for our captain to arrive and were to depart on a mission that day.

I was looking out the window of the aircraft cockpit and placed my forehead against one of several frames of glass. I felt the cold moisture of the glass on my forehead. I knew this day would be my last flight and I would not be returning.

I stepped off the plane to talk with other crew members. Just then our captain arrived with a photographer to take a picture of the entire crew. Before we departed we waited for the photographer to be developed that single film. We were all wearing leather flight jackets with a fur collar and leather caps with straps that connected under the chin.

Also, we each wore eye goggles over these caps that were situated just above the foreheads. When I saw the photo I instantly recognized myself, but it was not the body and face I know today. I sketched a drawing of what I saw and entered it into my log of experiences.

This post and discussion is continued in the thread Anyone have pastlives as a soldier in WWII?


New Member
German test pilot

I used to have "thoughts" or feelings as a child that I had been test pilot during WWII. I was drawn, as a little GIRL no less, to books on WWII aircraft..especially GERMAN. I was able to pick up German words with ease up until I was about 9 or 10 years old. In fact,the girls up the street laughed at me because of something I said about being a German pilot during WWII. (I no longer remember what it was I said.)

I DO have fleeting memories of looking lovingly at a black and white photo of a woman and small child who I think were my wife and child back home.

I have a feeling I was test flying a prototype of the first jet plane and my plane blew up over a large, dark forest. In my heart, I knew the war was over and didn't REALLY like being a Nazi...but was somehow pressured by family. The funny thing is I was not terrified of flying until I hit the age of 27...now, at 35...I am STILL terrified of flying fo some reason.....

[This post and discussion is continued in the thread Anyone have past lives as a soldier in WWII?
I was an officer in LSSAH, the 1. Waffen-SS Division

I lived during the war. I was an officer in LSSAH, the 1. Waffen-SS Division Adolf Hitler. I helped conquer Poland. I saw the Warzaw ghettos. I participated to some extent in Ukrainian massacres. I fought in France and Italy. I died near the end of the war, possibly from wounds, possibly from being shot by G.I.s after surrendering.

The turning point was instantly recognizing a military march of the LSSAH division and then finding that the deployment of this division matched my idea of my career almost 100% (I was away from the division for some time too, being wounded).

I'm working on placing names, faces, images at the time being, trying to establish who I was, and who they were. Imagine my surprise the other night when I managed to establish that the officer "Heinemann" whom I couldn't stand actually existed -- at least someone named Heimann did, and would have been higher in rank than myself at the time.

I was fairly young at the time of my death, and I believe I was of the "Junker class", i.e. the part of society which had lived securely in a vision of military career, duty, and honor since the Knights Teutonic invaded Poland in medieval times, more or less. From this it is fairly valid to assume that joining up was "what you did" in the family, and career options were best in the Waffen-SS in the 30s.

This post and discussion is continued in the thread Anyone have pastlives as a soldier in WWII?

Peter V

Senior Registered
101st Airborne

I think I may have just had my first actual past life memory. Not a "feeling", but an actual VISUAL memory.

As some of you already know, I've felt quite an attachment to WWII throughout my life. Last night I was reading a book written by a member of the 101st Airborne that dropped into Normandy on D-Day. As I was reading along the author began to describe a horrible scene. After I finished the first sentence, I closed the book, put it down and was dumbfounded. It sounded SO familiar. Where had I seen this before? For the first moment all I could think was "man...why does this sound so familar?".

After a minute or two (literally) images of a barn and a field came to mind and two Germans with blackened faces which "we" thought were dead, horribly mangled by artelly shells, and that these Germans were actually still alive.

As I began to recall the scene I could see everything in my mind's eye clearer and clearer...like I was remembering more and more, the more I recalled of the last scene. Confused? Let me better explain it.

At first the feeling of "This is waaay too familar" hit me. I put down the book and tried to place it.

Second, I seemed to recall looking down to my left at a patch of high grass and a bush with the above feelings in mind ("I can't believe they are still alive").

Third, I remembered this barn, with a stone wall about 2.5 ft high on the left side bordering a small path leading to the entrance, all the while thinking about these poor Germans on the other side of this short wall in the field.

Fourth, I remembered the Germans themselves, no hands, no feet, eye balls hanging out of their sockets and blacked faces - it was the term "blackened faces" by the author which started this whole thing for me.

Fifth, I remembered that "we" or whoever this was, walked away thinking they were dead, hearing them grown, being horrified they were still alive and shooting them.

It took about 10 minutes for this whole scene to fully come back to me.

I picked up the book and low and behold, as I read it, it perfectly described the above scene - AFTER I had "remembered" it.


Senior Registered
A B-17 pilot

So far, l think that l only "remember" one past life. l was born and raised in West Texas (present life) on a cotton farm. During the fall, the crop dusters were flying defoliating the cotton. The dirt strip they used was less than a mile from our house, so nearly every time they would take off, l could hear the plane's engine roaring and straining to get the 'ol bird in the air.

Finally after weeks of pestering and begging, l got my Dad to take me to the strip and meet the pilot face to face. To this day, one of the biggset thrills of my life was when he let me climb in the cockpit and sit in the plane.

The pilot started to explain some of the basic instruments the plane had, and l started telling him "this is the turn and bank indicator, that is altimeter, and that is the Mag switch..." He looked surprised that a 10 yr old kid knew so much and asked where l learned it all. l told him l didn't know, just knew it.

l have always had an interest in flying, especially older aircraft. But one thing always "got to me". Every time l saw a B-17, in pictures or in real life, a strange gut feeling would come over me. Hard to put in words.

To make a long story short, l remember being a B-17 pilot in WW II. There are a lot more details that l remember, places, names and such.



Yuri Ivanov - a Russian soldier

I had a dream, where there were a couple of Germans up ahead of us (there were 2 of us) and we were trying to move into another position to "pick them off" without them seeing us . There was some sort of rubble in between us an them. I told my friend to keep down, a couple of different times. He went and waved me off the last time I warned him, and the Germans saw his arm or something and then knew exactly where we were and began firing on us.

I did not know how we were going to get out of THAT one!? I was hit in my left shoulder and he was hit somewhere, too (this is when the word "babaREEL" was heard, but I'm not certain if I said it or he did). I did not want to die, nor did I want the Germans to get there hands on us either! Knowing that if we looked convincingly dead, the Germans "might" (and I say "might") not waste bullets on us if they walked over to inspect things.

I quickly used my hand and took up a lot of blood from my wound and put it onto my face. I then rolled over and grabbed my friend and gave him the same treatment. I remember him looking at me weirdly as I did it. I waited for them to shoot some more and proceeded to cry out like I just got hit. Then I got my friend to quickly do it, too. I think I must have blacked out after that, because the next thing I knew, I was opening my eyes up in some sort of a makeshift medical area with a woman cleaning the blood off of my face with a wet,dirty rag. I remember she smiled after my eyes opened and said, "Yuri Ivanov". So, I believe that was my name then.


star rover

Senior Registered
German soldier - took a job as a concentration camp guard to avoid a transfer

The other life was as a young German soldier in WW2, that fought in Eastern Europe (probably Poland) and later took a job as a concentration camp guard to avoid being transferred to the eastern front in Russia.

He/"me" ended up with being consumed by bitterness self-loathing due to experiences of german cruelty against civilians and prisoners of war, which lead to him/"me" committing suicide by shooting himself in the temple shortly after the war ended.


New Member
A Nazi secretery

I have strong feelings that I served Germany in some capacity during WWII. My gut instinct says 'secretary', and I believe that to be correct.

I've long held a fascination with the German language, cuisine, customs, history, etc. When I was 18, a friend of my father's died (he was an old man who had served as a Chaplain for American Troops dispatched to Germany in 1944 and 1945), and among his belongings was a knife that the Chaplain had removed from a dead boy of the Hitler Youth. My father gave it to me as a gift, knowing I was interested in history and in that part of history, in particular.

I was horrified, yet at the same time riveted to the object. I believe that sense of being riveted is not entirely uncommon, but it felt more than just the fascination of holding an object from a bygone era.

The feeling of having been a Nazi...even just a Nazi's secretary...has always made me feel awful. For a long time, I was so embarrassed and ashamed that I would even consider the notion that I'd been like that in a past life (forget that it might even be true), that I just pushed it all aside and didn't think about it.


Senior Registered
Finnish Infantry Soldier

I often have this feeling, that I have been a Finnish soldier in WW II. Maybe a pilot.. I have always been VERY interested in WW II, especially the war in the air.

I also often see a dream of the war, but in that dream I´m a foot soldier. In my dream I see Russian troops attacking our positions , and we (Finnish soldiers) are low of ammo. There is nothing I can do, I can´t shoot, because I´m out of ammo. Then the enemy take our positions, and I wake up from the dream (I die??). Sometimes I run away in that dream.

I´m not sure when these dreams started.. I have seen this same type of dream for years. I´m now 28 years of age, so if I died in WW II there was 30-35 years in between my death and birth.

I can´t yet tell you any other details, the only memory I have is this dream.. all I can remember from it is that I´m a Finnish infantry soldier, and I´m in a trench. I can see thousands of Soviet soldiers attacking. They are simply too many, we can´t hold our positions, and I can´t shoot back.. When the first enemy hops in our trench I wake up..

And then I have this interest in WW II aviation, especially fighter planes. There is a certain fighter pilot that interests me very much. He died in 29:th February 1940. I can´t explain why I´m so interested in him..

This post and discussion is continued in the thread Finnish soldier in WWII


Forever Young
Soldier validation - Joseph Scott from Pittsburgh, PA - KIA

Last night I tried a regression technique I found on the web, relaxing yourself totally then climb downstairs, deeper into yourself and counting down from 10 for the number of steps. You were meant to sit in a garden of your own making to rest and meet up with any spirit guides you might encounter or know of already. Then it was suggested to see yourself walk a corridor with many doors, you would be pulled to one and when you opened it there you would see a past life.

I didn't get as far as the garden I don't think, I don't know if I fell asleep or what, but I saw a man ahead of me at the bottom of the steps, he was wearing strange clothes, sort of plumped out skirt but it wasn't it was like shorts, like pumpkins with tights, the shorts things were red and yellow in the middle part of the design, the rest of them were black. He had a black top on (more is coming to me now as I type) and a white ruffly collar, he turned and looked at me, he had a greying beard, dark hair and then all I know is I saw myself in the war. Perhaps he was a spirit guide??? That's what I'm thinking.

It was a sunny day and I was standing in a half ruined town, I was looking down at a piece of paper that had positions and things on it there were other people with me but I didn't see who they were. All of a sudden, there was the start of a skirmish, all hell breaking loose, we were unprepared, missiles were flying in and gunfire broke out.

I saw myself crouched behind a low wall shooting at Germans, I turned to my right to see a rookie standing up, I don't know how I know he was quite new to us but he was frozen with fear. I remember running over to him, grabbing him over and down running down and making him sit. I was cursing very badly.

The next thing I remember is standing beside a jeep, I don't know if it was the same day and place. Looking down at paperwork again talking with a couple of men, the sarge and captain I think. Somebody shouted and I looked up to see missiles (could have been anything) coming over to our position, it went all dark after that.

The next thing I know is I'm screaming, not in pain or fear but laughter screaming, having fun. It felt like a coal scuttle, I don't know how big that is but something tells me it's not so big, I was sitting in amongst the coal and a girl only a little older than me is sitting on top of the lid stopping me getting out. She does eventually and I climb out into a big kitchen with a stone floor, I'm wearing a drab, dirty dress, I'm very young. I hear someone call "Maggie" and I turn round to see a woman standing, I can't see her face.

That was unexpected, I didn't hear an accent so I don't know where I was or when but the dress was down to my ankles.

I had asked for names or people, myself, places last night. I heard Pittsburgh, Patterson, Scott and Ardennes.

Feech had put the name Arthur to me but I felt warmer with Joseph, Joe because one of my boys used to take the mickey out of it calling me GI Joe and I used to get annoyed at him. This lad came to me two nights ago, his nickname was Lucky Luciano because he had been one of the luckiest men living when he should have been dead many a time. I was told there was a Lucky Luciano who had been in the mafia so I although I had never heard of him before I thought perhaps I had heard the name in the news or saw it so it wasn't real, wasn't part of this.

Well today I thought about it all, the information was easy to remember, I hadn't forgotten anything overnight. I've never had anything quite so clear before.

Pittsburgh, Patterson, Scott and Ardennes not in that order though I don't think.

Pittsburgh was where I was from not NY or NJ although I know I had been there. I put the Joseph with the Scott and did some looking.

There was a Joseph Scott who came from Pittsburgh, PA and was KIA. He was with the 115th infantry regiment of the 29th division the "blue and greys". He was on the beaches on D-Day and was also in the battle of the bulge. Before I looked I didn't realise that took place in Ardennes, I had forgotten everything I already had researched years ago. I was not a captain as I had thought, I was a corporal, I had been wondering why I was so close to my boys - I was still really just one of them, although in charge of them I never forgot my roots.

What confirmed it, the ultimate PING was seeing Lucky listed in the same regiment, also from Pittsburgh, his name wasn't Luciano, it was Lucchino, Private first class Dominic Lucchino and I now realise I called him lucky Luciano because he called me GI Joe, to get him back he hated it. He had also been killed in action, I had told Feech he had died in the war before I had the proof, he came to see me you see, with his famous smile, the joker of the bunch, shortish, wiry dark hair. I remember being so happy to see him, he was in his uniform too as I last saw him and when he turned to walk away I called his name out for ages. I didn't want him to go.


New Member
I was an officer of the SS garrisoned in Auschwitz

I have never wanted to admit it because its such a horrid feeling -but I know I was an officer of the SS garrisoned in Auschwitz.

Since I was a little girl, I have adored black boots, treasured my long black overcoat, and my mother even commented that I used to say talk in fluent German and French in my sleep - we are indian and european in this lifetime so it was odd.

I don't remember that - but my older brother certainly remembers me pointing out the cattle cars on our railways and saying quite nonchalantly "we used to pack the Juden in them" back when I was four years old. Needless to say he called me a "freak".

Another incident happened when I was in Primary school - the American version being Elementary school - I spotted a kid - his name was Daniel and immediately had a gagging sensation and the need to say sorry about something. I went up to him and always asked if he needed my help or anything.

Two months later - Daniel's grandfather who was a boy during the Holocaust came to visit us, I broke down and wanted to leave the room, feeling guilty about something I had no control over.

The way I figured out Auschwitz was the bizzare recurring dream about the pool there that I used to swim in, I only discovered the pool was at Auschwitz when I took a virtual tour online and saw it. It finally clicked.

There's just one thing I can't piece together - though I was also told by a pyschic that I was an officer - and a man (I am female in this life), I don't know why I was never issued the field grey that all SS men got issued with after the war broke out.....I only remember my black uniform, the barking of my dog at the people, the cars....but not liberation....


Senior Registered
American paratrooper - 327th glider infantry regiment, A company, 101st airborne div.

i was lying in a trench with bullets flying over head. and to my left, a soldier jumps into the the trench next to me, with a rifle in hand.

i hadnt seen that uniform before, but thought initially that it was a vietnam war one, because on the greenish hue. late discovered though that it was one worn by airborne soldiers during training and on the jump into normandy on Dday by certain regiments.

also told by a psychic that i was shot in the head by a sniper in germany. i have a curious patch of pigmented skin ( i'm not sure if this is the right term, but that area of skin is ligter coloured that the rest) that makes me wonder if that was where i sustained an injury. The pyschic had told me as well that i was injured in the battle of the bulge.

i think i was probably an airborne soldier. The reading i got indicated that i was a paratrooper, and that i was one of those who actually jumped into normandy on Dday. He gave me a name as well : Howard Christian, from indiana. I have posted on an airborne message board regarding him, and a member located this name in a book called " general orders for the 101st" by brandon wiegand. He was a Ssgt of the 327th glider infantry regiment, A company, 101st airborne div.

interestingly the 327th was one of the regiments that wore the uniform i saw in my dream on the normandy jump. He won a purple heart ( consistent with what the psychic told me : i was injured in bastogne), a silver star and bronze medal.

It was daytime. I was in a large, open ,green grassy field. did not have the enemy in sight though. No buildings or anything else i could see, just an open field. With of course gun fire overhead

i believe i served in WW2 as an american paratrooper


Daimyo of Mito
A6M3 Zero pilot, Lieutenant (j.g.) Nishizawa Hiroyoshi of the Imperial Japanese Navy

Information I recently found suggests I might've been an A6M3 Zero pilot, Lieutenant (j.g.) Nishizawa Hiroyoshi of the Imperial Japanese Navy (Japan's ace of aces with 86 air-to-air kills)-- or one of his comrades in the same squadron.

He was above average height for a Japanese man-- and only 1 inch shorter than me (he was five feet seven inches, I'm five feet eight).

In terms of character, he and I are alike, too-- quiet and introverted, not opening up easily to people, but being fiercely loyal to people once they're friends.

He was very gaunt and skinny in his lifetime, which may explain why I sometimes have trouble controlling my appetite (an unconscious effort at making up for the gaunt-ness). Also, even though I'm myopic and I suck at science (especially physics), I had an irrepressible desire to become an Air Force pilot until a couple of years ago.

He was shot down while traveling on a transport, and I always have this nagging fear of helplessness every time I'm on an airliner. Plus, World War Two-era history comes easily to me.

And most interestingly, for awhile now I've had a rather controversial affinity toward the Japanese battle flag of WWII-- the rising sun with the rays.

Three planes I have strongly resonated with were the P-39 Aircobra/P-63 KingCobra, which had a 20 mm. cannon running through the spinner of the propeller, and the A-20G Havoc, the low-altitude attack plane that, according to an American veteran I spoke with, "was so fast the Japanese only heard it after the bombs went off."

Oh, and interestingly enough-- the first time I bowed Japanese-style, I bowed automatically at the waist, with my upper body only stopping when it was parallel to the ground-- and a few months later, I saw a photo in which some Japanese fighter pilots of WWII do the same.


New Member
Combat in Africa and France

I recalled being on recon during a lull in the fighting in WWII and we were walking through a pile of rubble.

I specifically remember rebar (the metal poles that's used in reinforced concrete) sticking out of much of the debris. For some reason this stuck in my head and when my regression was over I had to find out whether rebar was even used in construction back then. I honestly had no idea.

All of the "destruction" pictures of WW II I've ever seen never had any rebar in them. It was all just chunks of concrete. Anyways, upon doing some research I found that rebar had it's glory days in the first 3 decades of the 20th century. Prime time for WW II.

I went to my latest regression on Thursday and have finally digested all of my thoughts. So here they are. :)

I got a lot of images of my German life in WW II. I got some information concerning my childhood and combat in Africa and France.

I also found out that in late 1944 I was being shipped to another area (possibly a seperate front) we stopped off at a concentration camp for whatever reason.

Following this incident I found no reason to carry on fighting and had extremely difficult time in hiding my emotions on the battlefield as I led my men.

When my death came late in the war I was very accepting of it, possibly awaiting or wanting it. I also found out that prior to the war I had a friend who was a Jew, possibly my best friend in this life, who I helped get out of Germany.

I guess the lesson I learned during this life was not to take it for granted and make the most of it, as it could be very short. Something I've carried on into this life. :)

I also did some research with some of the information I came across and found two pictures which really had some resonance with me. One was of a symbol used for the Afrika Korps in WW II, and another was an image of the Germans in Poland that had a lot of similarity to one of the "snapshots" I saw during my first regression.


Senior Registered
I was serving in the Pacific with the Marines, as an airplane mechanic

I remember being called up. I'd (quite unpatriotically) tried to dodge the draft by falsely applying for a farm deferment or some other wile connected with agriculture; but Uncle Sam got me in the end.

I was around 20, from Bowling Green, Kentucky(?). Born in Ireland, I had emigrated to the USA as a child with my family.

It was my first day at boot camp just as we heard about the D-Day landings. It was a wrench leaving my girl friend, Kell(e)y Kamen (or Kaman). I remember being in the back of a six-by-six truck with a lot of other new recruits. It was a sunny day, we were all dressed in green fatigues...

I was serving in the Pacific with the Marines, as an airplane mechanic. My skills as a farm mechanic (and owner of an elderly Henderson Four motorcycle) got me work away from the front line.

We landed at Tarawa and set up a workshop, bringing in the kit from a seaplane tender moored off shore. I recall bring wooden crates full of tools and machines up the beach, wading through the warm water, and seeing fleets of silvery B-29s flying in formation very high in the deep-blue skies, contrails streaming behind them...

Later I applied for a course to learn to fly. This was as the war was coming to an end. I stayed in the Marines, flying reconnaissance, weather recon and air-sea rescue missions, and later I transfered to the USAF during the Cold War in Europe, seeing service in West Germany, England, Norway (and covertly in neutral Sweden).

I returned to the States and settled in the north (Duluth, Minnesota?) and died young in my early 30s (motorcycle accident?) Recall being in hospital, dying, nurse saying "Mr Martin, you will not live through till the morning", but I was already out-of-body by then.

This post and discussion is continued in the thread American GI


Senior Registered
A German plane - HE-111

In the dream, I remember clearly that I had a view much like looking out the front seat of a car. That struck me as rather strange. I could see forward, left and right. But I could not see above me.

Anyone that has ever been in the front seat of any aircraft knows that above all you have a good view of what is around you. I didn't in this dream So I wanted to dismiss it as a flight of fancy, forgive the pun.

I had the feeling that I was in a high wing aircraft (That is, the wings were above the fuselage), and the wings were above me. If I were truly a co-pilot this would be impossible. I don't think any modern plane has ever had the wings so far forward that they would obstruct the pilot's view. My view was blocked by the plane and from everything I knew about planes, this was completely wrong.

Then I came across this picture:

Bingo! Those lower windows afforded exactly the view I saw in my dream. The plane was a HE-111, Germany's most produced bomber of WWII. The colors of the plane are wrong from my dream, I saw it more of a green color, but that could be that this was an after war model used by Spain.

And then to top things off, I had a dream last night of going into an empty house. An old woman cried out "Nobody's home." We spoke for a while and related stories of my current hometown. Then I woke up and was sad that I hadn't learned anything new.

Then I went into that stage between sleep and being awake.

I saw a German soldier walk into a barn/shed, he removed his uniform and dressed in civilian clothes. Then he shot himself. I was on the verge of falling back asleep and told myself "This is important...pay attention. What is his name?" The name I got was Franz Richter.

I have no idea why he was changing from his uniform into civilian clothes before shooting himself, but once again the surroundings and emotions were so vivid it stayed with me the rest of the day.


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My husband was on the Enola Gay

My husband was apparently a pilot in an elite flying outfit called the Flying Fortress or the Switchbacks. He recalls being on the Enola Gay. He gave me the name of the pilot Capt. Tibbits and other unknown men (believe me, some people know some of this stuff; my husband isn't one of them).

He told me the exact quote Tibbits radioed back to the "Comm Tower" upon take-off. Anybody know what it was?...I didn't. It was "Dimples 8 to North Tinian Tower"
Even if someone knows that quote, they wouldn't likely know what it meant because "Dimples 8" refers to the 8 men aboard Enola Gay.

Gov't documents list sometimes twice that many men, but they also list men who were not on the plane. He told me of the thick polaroid glasses they wore to protect their eyes from the bomb--although nothing would shield that blast he says. He said they dropped several smaller bombs called "widow-makers" and next he says, "I'll never forget Tibbits...he looked at his watch and says to us, 'its 2:45 and, well boys...here we come".

Then they dropped a big bomb that "leveled Hiroshima" which he says to me as though I hadn't heard. He tells me they dropped it by a bridge. I didn't know this, but confirmed it from a website.
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