For some reason, the last week I have been tearing my mother’s house apart in a mad search for the box of photos which would contain my childhood since between what I have seen at my father’s house and my mother’s house, there is only 5 or so photos in existence. I knew this box of photos existed and I even knew what it looked like. But for the life of me, I had not been able to find it. However, in my search, I came across a box of things of my grandfather’s that he brought back from his time in Europe during the War. Mind you, most of the German items he scavenged off people he had killed.
And now some Nazi stuff. This was all in my closet, which I’ve been sleeping next two for all these years not knowing that this stuff was right there. It is a little disturbing. Handling this stuff really set me on edge because it is imbued with the spirit and energy of whomever it came from but it still gave me a lot of pride in my grandfather and I am happy he brought it all back.
And some copies of letters he sent back via V-Mail to his parents. Interesting reading!