Dear Englishman (and others),
I was about to post something pretty angry as a reply to your proud display of the Lancaster bomber. Let me explain a little something here before I get to the angry part.
My grandfather number one (father's side): half Jewish, accused of being part of a sabotage network against the Nazi regime. Deported in 1940 together with his severly ill father, spent years in at least three concentrations camps, died in 1943 (supposedly of typhus). His father died just three months after the deportation. His wife was arrested and interrogated frequently during the war years, but survived the war thanks to being a blond, blue eyed "Arian", I guess. She emigrated to Sweden and died in 1960 of severe pneumonia.
My grandfather number 2 (mother's side): navigator on Wehrmacht transport plane. Shot down in his Junkers over Russia around the the time of the Stalingrad fiasco. Survived the crash with minor injuries, died in POW camp years later. His wife was killed during one of the many, many night bomb raids in this war in 1944, together with two of her younger sisters, aged 12 and 14 at the time. The entire town(with the exception of seven houses) was wiped out in the course of one year by British and US bombers.
So, dear Englishman, I have a problem here. Unlike you, I can't quite say that "we" lost or won the war, or how "we" did. Some of my ancestors were on the side of the victims, some were one the side of the perpetrators(sp?). Unfortunately, I could never ask them about it: I have never seen any of my grandparents.
It's not my war. It's not your war. I don't think any one of us has reason to be proud or be ashamed of what our fathers and grandfathers did.
But it makes me sick, really sick, sometimes very angry, when people who never participated in all this madness boast about how "they" saved the world, and how "they" fought and crap (excuse my language) like that, dwelling in war-stories glory. It doesn't make me nearly as sick as those old and young assholes (no excuses here, the word fits) who still yearn for the days of the "Reich". But it does make me sick enough.
Your glorious Lancaster bomber may well have been the one which dropped the phosphorus bomb on the block where my grandmother lived together with her two sisters. Or maybe not. Either way, I find this proud display of a war plane offensive, for reasons which should be a little clearer now, I hope.
I don't think we did too badly.
Who's "we", Englishman?
I suggest to stop the war stories crap. Leave it to the old folks, who actually had to be part of this horrible insanity. Please. There's enough madness going on _today_.
f.