Grandpa's stories about his fights ...

[The_Burning_Zero]

My mom tells me my grandfather was a Romanian WWII pilot. She says he was an officer. I am also told he was shot down twice. Once by the Russians early in the war, and hen Romania became allied in 1944 he became a bomber pilot an was shot down by the Germans. That is all I know about him, his name was a along one Teodor Lucien State Tudor. If you know anything about him email me at theodoresterescu@hotmail.com. I think a model of my grandfathers plane would look nice in my colection

[Dénes]

I did not find in my extensive, but incomplete, ARR loss list the name you mentioned.

However, I have the following incident that might be connected to your grandfather:

30-May-44 JRS-79B Gr. 1 bomb. slt. pil. Lucian Teodorescu, serg. mec. Pomana {ranit}, serg.maj. mitr. Munteanu {ranit} Tecuci aer. AF ciuruit de gloante de avioane inamice, avariat 30% [JurnOp CAR]

[The_Burning_Zero]

Thanks for your help about my grandfather. I should have said he did not die during the war. He suvived the crash, and in 1997 he died of lung cancer at 92 years of age. I should have menchened that before sorry. Thanks again for the info.

[Dénes]

Apparently, no-one died in the above mentioned incident, so theoretically the Savoia bomber pilot could still be your garndfather. Does the name match?

[The_Burning_Zero]

I am pritty shure the name is corect. Thank you for your help.

[The_Burning_Zero]

Hi thanks for the info, I was wondering if you could contact me about more info on this event, and the people involved.Thanks an have a nice day.

[dragos]

My grandfather, 2nd lieutenant cadet Serpescu Gheorghe, of the independent unit of Military School for Reserve Officers No.2 Bacau, was sent to front on 22 August 1944. He was commander of a mortar platoon, which had four 81.4 mm mortars and two 120 mm mortars. He took part in the operation of Arad-Toplita-Prunisor line, being involved in the battle of Prunisor, in which his unit lost two company commaders, captain Eugen Dobrila, commader of 4th Company, and captain Andrei, commander of 3rd Company. Their bodies were recovered several days after the battle, by a committee in which my grandfather was present, and were burried in the churchyard of Gurahont. My grandfather is currently 79 years old and he is living in Buzau.

[mabadesc]

Dragos,

Could you tell us about his impressions of the fighting in those chaotic August days (and after)? What was the atmosphere like? Were there rumors among soldiers that an alliance reversal would occur? How was the morale in his company just before 23 August? And what did he think of the way the Soviet allies were behaving afterwards?

Sorry for the many questions, I'm just very curious because he was actually there when it all happened.

[dragos]

I will relate a detailed story when I meet him next time, probably after the Christmas, because I live in Bucharest and I'm busy with my job.

[Indrid]

i have spent this holiday a few days with my grandfather and he told me in detail his actions in the ww2. i am thinking of publishing them under the memoirs section of this site. it will be quite big, almost 20 pages so it will be a while.... i hope it will live up to the challenge...

:keep:

[mabadesc]

You can do it, Indrid. If you need help with some of the translation, feel free to ask me.

[Indrid]

thanks but i am quite fluent in english. the problem is the amount of info i will have to type because i have about 20 pages of written stuff that i will have to arrange and type. thanks for the intention though! :keep:

[Alexandru H.]

So, are you going to publish that masterpiece? I would be more than happy to take care of it....

[Indrid]

i will give that privilege to a man with a faculty diploma. :nope:

[dragos]

Unfortunatelly I could not visit my grandfather during this winter holliday, but I will tell you another story in return. I have been told this story several years ago, so I may not remember all details exactly. Also, I found this story extraordinary but I believe it as the man was clear to the mind for his age. It is the story of one of my grandfather's friends, and we paid him a visit particularly to hear his story.

He was commander of a cavalry company (escadron), and he was operating at the Don's River bend in November 1942. Its company was subordinated directly to an Army Corps, as special reconnaissance and intervention unit. Before telling the story, he said that after the war he never played at lottery or any other game of luck, because he considered that his luck to survive the war was enough for a lifetime.

As captain and working directly with German echelons, he said that he had good relations with German officers, they invited him in their shelters and offered him drinks.

He showed me a blured picture of him walking toward the camera in a field, and behind him it was something looking like a white spring of water. He explained that he was returning from examining an abandoned russian tank, and a shell exploded right between him and the tank, as he was returning, so the explosion covered completely the image of the tank.

The drama started when his unit was called for in a sector where russians broke through. He recalled that it was a thick fog. After leaving their horses, they started the offensive operation towards russians. Finding the russian positions by the sounds of their firearms, he send several of his men in the far flank, to fire at his signal. This way, they appeared to attack russians from different directions. However, due to the fog, there was the risk to fire at each other! But the plan worked, and soon they found themselves pursuing the russians. The landscape was scarred by numerous natural deep ravines, like wide trenches, so they had to jump all the time. As they were running and firing, he felt a shock in the leg, like someone hit him with a stone. He disregarded this and kept on runing. When he jumped in a ravine, his leg broke like a stick. He has been shot, and the jump fractured his already fissured bone.

He was evacuated, and transported to a warehouse full of wounded men. He spent many hours laing on a stretcher, in the dark, listening to what others were talking. He learned that the Russians launched a big offensive. At some moment, two men with lanterns entered the building and stopped next to him. He recognized a medic, which was from the same town (Buzau). The medic assured him he will take care of him and he examined his wound, concluding he had an open fracture. He said that they would take him with an ambulance and transport him to a hospital, but there were russians everywhere as they had broke their lines.

They put him in an ambulance and start driving. There was a large column of vehicles and soldiers (I realized later that this was the column of Gen. Lascar group). At some point, a great stir occured in the column, as Russians were approaching. They managed to cross a ravine, just when behind them the russians cut their lines. As the column scattered, they were driving alone, hoping they were heading the right direction.

They saw a tank approaching, and realized it was a Soviet tank. The tank stopped as a deep gully were separating them. The driver and the medic jumped out of the vehicle and hid in the bushes, as the tank opened fire at them. Fortunately, it was a light tank, and it was firing with piercing shells. After several shots, the captain heard galloping sounds approaching. They were speaking russian and he realized they were cossacks. He pulled the blanket over his head. They turned round the truck several times and shot with their SMGs in it. The bullets passed over him. Seing the door hanging loose, they thought the truck was abandoned and left. The tank, seeing the cossacks have arrived, also left.

The driver and the medic returned from their hide-out and they continued driving. After some time, they saw another tank, this time it was a big tank, and they stopped. As they could not know whether it was German or Russian, and the captain had field glasses, they turned the ambulance, so that the captain could look through the glasses. He saw it was a German tank, what relief!

The joy did not last long. Even if the Germans greeted them, they were told they were at Bol Donscinka, and they were still in the encirclement. They were told that the next day they were planing to evacuate the village, and break the encirclement. As he spend the night in the ambulance, he could see on the window how the Russians were storming the city with tanks, but the German 88-mm guns were turning them back.

In the morning the German column got on the move, with tanks and men with automatic rifles in the lead. They got to their lines, and it was transported to a field hospital were he was examined by German medics. They said they were about to evacuate the hospital, and they would send him by plane to another hospital.

Once he landed, the German medics examined his wound, which was already looking bad, and told him they cannot operate it, and they recommend sending him to Viena, where they guaranteed full recovery, or they could send him to Romania. He preferred Romania.

In the following day he entered Romania by train. Their parents were transmitted he was dead! His father refused to believe he is dead (he did not tell this to his wife), and checked continuously the hospitals, and found about him. Even if the train was en route to Timisoara, his father arranged that it would stop for a short moment in Buzau.

He was operated in Buzau, and he remained with a handicap (one leg shorter than the other), but he was most happy he returned to his town.