PDA

View Full Version : Aryan Supermen.



Waldo.Pepper
10-25-2007, 11:15 PM
Excerpt from an interview of P-51 pilot 2nd Lt. Robert K. McCandliss.


"The next morning I was taken to Rheine Airfield, where I had been shot down. A Luftwaffe major stood behind a table in the airfield's operations building. Everything they had taken from me was spread out in front of him. He smiled and picked up my standard American issue .45 pistol. In six swift moves, he field-stripped it and laid the parts down neatly. He smiled again. Picked up the frame and, equally swiftly, reassembled the pistol. In English, he said, "This is a pretty good gun." I spent the night in a cell there and the next day began my amusing journey."

Amusing? A downed airman in the enemy's country?

"My escort was a big clumsy soldier"”not very bright. He left me alone with his rifle at an empty railroad station while he dashed into the lavatory. I was tempted to run away, but settled for putting a handful of sandy grit down the barrel. Later he left it in the train compartment when we got off for an air raid. We waited in a pine forest outside of Frankfurt, and after the all-clear sounded, he couldn't find the compartment. He walked alongside the train asking the other passengers where it was and stumbled and fell twice. I caught him once. Walking through the city of Mainz, he got so far ahead of me that I could have gone anywhere. I thought about making a break for it, but decided it was too risky in a flying suit in a city with a lynching-minded populace. A reminder of my situation was a little old man rushing up when I was alone and beating me with a board until I ran. I had to stay with my guard for my own safety. Our journey took us through an old forest"”the trees reached up 100 feet or more"”with a mix of round-engine Focke Wulf Fw-190s and long-engine Me-109s carefully placed so no trees appeared to have been removed. Leafy branches and pine boughs had been laid over most of the wings, canopies and fuselages. Yes"”before you ask"”I did think about stealing one of the fighters. A fantasy we all had, but not so simple in reality. My yokel guard led me into what must have been the operations center for the dispersed Geschwader. He wandered off looking for someone in charge. The room had rows of seats facing a wall covered with large maps, slate boards with words stencil-painted on, blank squares for chalked-in names, numbers, frequencies. I was in the Geschwader's main briefing room! I was standing there studying line diagrams, numbers, names, when an officer in a black leather Luftwaffe flying jacket walked in. The German stared at me, and I stared back. No question, here was another fighter pilot. A man like myself. A man I could have met in the sky. An enemy. And I was in his briefing room. Even without knowing German, I could tell that the ***-chewing the yokel corporal got was world class."

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v516/WaldoPepper/pow/pow.jpg

Your escort sounds like a character. Was that the end of him?

"No, he had the chance for yet another dumb stunt. Our next transport was a 1934 model Chevrolet coupe fitted with an awkward-looking charcoal burner that stunk like a whiskey still out of the lidless trunk. The doors were locked and the windows open. Yokel guard tugged on the door handles. Tried both on one side. Tugged again and looked puzzled. I reached inside and pulled up the door lock. Opened the door for my guard. It was all I could do to keep from laughing out loud. At the Dulag-Luft"”a holding unit for the larger Stalag-Luft"”he left. He did not say goodbye, just turned and ambled away as stolid as ever."

Waldo.Pepper
10-25-2007, 11:15 PM
Excerpt from an interview of P-51 pilot 2nd Lt. Robert K. McCandliss.


"The next morning I was taken to Rheine Airfield, where I had been shot down. A Luftwaffe major stood behind a table in the airfield's operations building. Everything they had taken from me was spread out in front of him. He smiled and picked up my standard American issue .45 pistol. In six swift moves, he field-stripped it and laid the parts down neatly. He smiled again. Picked up the frame and, equally swiftly, reassembled the pistol. In English, he said, "This is a pretty good gun." I spent the night in a cell there and the next day began my amusing journey."

Amusing? A downed airman in the enemy's country?

"My escort was a big clumsy soldier"”not very bright. He left me alone with his rifle at an empty railroad station while he dashed into the lavatory. I was tempted to run away, but settled for putting a handful of sandy grit down the barrel. Later he left it in the train compartment when we got off for an air raid. We waited in a pine forest outside of Frankfurt, and after the all-clear sounded, he couldn't find the compartment. He walked alongside the train asking the other passengers where it was and stumbled and fell twice. I caught him once. Walking through the city of Mainz, he got so far ahead of me that I could have gone anywhere. I thought about making a break for it, but decided it was too risky in a flying suit in a city with a lynching-minded populace. A reminder of my situation was a little old man rushing up when I was alone and beating me with a board until I ran. I had to stay with my guard for my own safety. Our journey took us through an old forest"”the trees reached up 100 feet or more"”with a mix of round-engine Focke Wulf Fw-190s and long-engine Me-109s carefully placed so no trees appeared to have been removed. Leafy branches and pine boughs had been laid over most of the wings, canopies and fuselages. Yes"”before you ask"”I did think about stealing one of the fighters. A fantasy we all had, but not so simple in reality. My yokel guard led me into what must have been the operations center for the dispersed Geschwader. He wandered off looking for someone in charge. The room had rows of seats facing a wall covered with large maps, slate boards with words stencil-painted on, blank squares for chalked-in names, numbers, frequencies. I was in the Geschwader's main briefing room! I was standing there studying line diagrams, numbers, names, when an officer in a black leather Luftwaffe flying jacket walked in. The German stared at me, and I stared back. No question, here was another fighter pilot. A man like myself. A man I could have met in the sky. An enemy. And I was in his briefing room. Even without knowing German, I could tell that the ***-chewing the yokel corporal got was world class."

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v516/WaldoPepper/pow/pow.jpg

Your escort sounds like a character. Was that the end of him?

"No, he had the chance for yet another dumb stunt. Our next transport was a 1934 model Chevrolet coupe fitted with an awkward-looking charcoal burner that stunk like a whiskey still out of the lidless trunk. The doors were locked and the windows open. Yokel guard tugged on the door handles. Tried both on one side. Tugged again and looked puzzled. I reached inside and pulled up the door lock. Opened the door for my guard. It was all I could do to keep from laughing out loud. At the Dulag-Luft"”a holding unit for the larger Stalag-Luft"”he left. He did not say goodbye, just turned and ambled away as stolid as ever."

ultraHun
10-26-2007, 12:17 AM
Well, actually the SS core thought of scrapping the native Germans for their own artificially-bred Aryan superrace as soon as the war was won.

Das ist der Dank des Vaterlandes.

Swivet
10-26-2007, 10:30 AM
talk about extreme "hat head" http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/shady.gif

Airmail109
10-26-2007, 10:36 AM
Holy **** that dude looks exactly like my dad lmao

Bearcat99
10-26-2007, 11:18 AM
Sounds like this guy...http://www.hogansheroesfanclub.com/images/photoSchultzSmall.gif