Befriending a Nazi
My grandfather, Tommy Rochelle, served in WWII. Like most able-bodied young men of his generation, he went overseas to fight Hitler’s fascist threat to the world.
In the 1930s and 40s, Grandpa Tommy worked in the radio business as a DJ, so his army commanders put him in the communications department. He wasn’t quite an action hero, but he was near the front lines helping to receive messages from the officers to the infantry units.
One night alone on the German front, he walked out of his comms tent and looked up directly into the bright fearful eyes of a Nazi soldier.
They were both shocked.
Both full of fear seeing the enemy face-to-face.
The Nazi soldier could hardly speak English, and my grandfather knew little German. As each man realized it was just the two of them, the situation began to cool down. It was cold out, and Tommy could tell that the man had been outdoors for sometime.
What else could he do?
He simply invited the German into his tent for a warm cup of coffee and a smoke. It was getting late…
