Tfw all WW1 veterans are fucking dead and we can't ever talk to them about their experiences

>tfw all WW1 veterans are fucking dead and we can't ever talk to them about their experiences
I hate living in the 21st century holy shit

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>soon all the 9/11 vets will be gone

There are still filmed interviews.

When I was a kid, my teacher took us to meet world war 1 vets in 1997ish. They were creepy as fuck to talk to.They weren't nice or approachable.

>he never got to talk to one
Sucks for you, one spoke at my middle school, and he was a good 105 years old. He seemed like a kindly grandfather dude, but I found it he did some nasty shit for the Chemical Corps

>guys who saw their friends blow to bits and then had to live with that memory for 80ish years aren't approachable

I don't know what you expected user

As opposed to countless people who saw their friends blow to bits since 40s/50s/60s/70s/2000s? Kek

>tfw all Finno-Korean Hyperwar veterans are dead
kill me

I mean my point is that 80 years is a long time to have to deal with that trauma, no wonder they were fucked up by the time that user met them at school. Not to mention getting old just sucks in general

>"It was shit, we were cold and dying and shitting in our designated shitting helmet"
Why would you want to hear about that? People from the age of exploration and soldiers on expeditions in exotic locations on the other hand....

How many WWII and vietnam veterans do you talk to about their experiances?

youtu.be/WG48Ftsr3OI

Best I can do for you, OP.

Look no further than media, user. We can only hear their whispers now, but you can learn if you listen.

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind.

Gas! Gas! Quick, boys!—An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime...
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,—
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.

Finally decided to open up your high school literature textbook?

The only poem worth reading.*

>*read: the only WWI poem I remember the name of.

>tfw grand(x2) grandfather was veteran of both WW1 and WW2.

Ouch. Sorry to hear that, for his sake. On one hand, nobody deserved to suffer through both; on the other, at least the Good Fight of WWII made up for the utter uselessness and waste of WWI.

The stories and emotions these eyes share; a depth of sorrow and forgiveness my tired mind should never have had to feel.

God do I love this drawing. It perfectly captures the feelings I get when I think about the Great War. I see him and I want to scream apologies, beg for forgiveness. He knows how pointless it was, and I feel both at fault and as much of a victim as he.

How i understand, he was half Czech and Austrian living in Germany when ww1 started and had volunteered very young and served on the western front in the trenches.
After WW1 he immigrated to Prague and lived there until in 1941 he was mobilised into WW2 Heer and served on the eastern from until he lost a hand somewhere between 1943-1944 and had to return to Prague... After that he joined local small resistance right before the end in the world and died 1956.
I guess shit was very tough in his life...

Sorry for samefagging; depression has been hitting me hard, I haven't been sleeping, and the World War One feels always stab me deeply.

It sounds like it. I can't imagine, and I hope I never can.

Wow so enlightened did you copy that yourself
WW1 is needed unless you want the rape of Belgium in France, in Italy, in the Balkans, in America, in Japan and most importantly in Great Britain

What an abhorrent post

>We came across a lad from A company. He was ripped open from his shoulder to his waist by shrapnel and lying in a pool of blood. When we got to him, he said: 'Shoot me'. He was beyond human help and, before we could draw a revolver, he was dead. And the final word he uttered was 'Mother.' I remember that lad in particular. It's an image that has haunted me all my life, seared into my mind.

>if any man tells you he went over the top and he wasn't scared, he's a damn liar.

- Harry Patch, the last surviving infantryman of the First World War.

War veterans usually don't like to talk about their experiences

>that episode of cheers that opens with the old WW1 vet coming to the bar for the 10 year get together with his war buddies
>tfw the episode ends with him all sad and alone because he was the only one who showed up
>"dont worry, they probably just forgot it"
>"no, they wouldnt forget the things we went through"