Victor James Vogtlin

My hero, is my Grandfather, Victor James Vogtlin. He was born on November 24th, 1913 in Buckman, Minnesota. He married his late wife, Edith Lucille Balder in 1945. His parents were farmers, and lived off of very little. He grew up with seven brothers and sisters, not including himself. They all had to help with the farm and did not have a very easy life. He grew up in a very rough time and his family worked hard to survive. At one point in his life he and the other children had to walk two and a half miles to school after doing chores in the morning, because they had no other way to get around. He went to a school house with ten to twelve other children but he didn't make it very far. In eighth grade he dropped out of school and stayed home to help with the farm.

Victor's childhood had seemed eventful to me when I heard it but, there were so many more chapters to his amazing life in store. He and his family went through the depression, in hardship as did everyone else. His father, my great grandfather was a PWA and supported his large family of eight kids to the best of his ability. Not long after this, in about 1943, my grandpa was shipped off in WW2. He was an army medic, with the rank of a sargent. In his time with the army he was treated pretty well, for the most part. They were fed normal army food, {MRE"s} which sounds horrible but the food his family could afford at home was not much better. Also, they traveled to so many different places and saw so many things that we only dream about visiting. Even though it was under terrible circumstances it's still a great opportunity to see the world and have the knowledge of things that others don't even know exist.

When my grandpa was first deployed, he traveled to Arkansas, through New York, then to Iceland, from there to Ireland, to England and finally he was stationed at Normandy Beach, France. In the Army, he was a medic, so his days consisted of training, teaching fellow soldiers simple out-in-the-field medical procedures, such as giving IV's, how to hydrate, and other basic military survival skills. He was also in charge of the medicine for anyone who was sick or hurt and needed medical attention. He was in the fifth division, third army, under general Patten, whom he could actually recall giving the guys many talks about their duties as soldiers, their dedication and their team work. Not to mention boosting their confidence along with keeping them in line. The Americans had their own fort, along with the Germans, who were separated by what they called pill boxes. Basically these were just smaller forts that were in between the two. This layout is pretty much what could have been the beginning of the end for my grandpa.

He was one of the group of unlucky soldiers who were captured by the Germans. He was captured and placed in a concentration camp. My Grandpa said that all he remembers from that day was hearing bullets fly everywhere and the fact that everything seemed to be underground, which makes sense because that way they were hidden. They really didn't do much in the concentration camp, they were basically just rushed there to wait. He said the worst part about it was feeling like he would die of starvation. They fed him and the other soldiers what they could but along with everyone else they had very little. He was held there for about six months, and in that time the war had already ended, but not really for him. His family had been sent a letter from the government stating that he was MIA, {missing in action} which is them saying they didn't know what happened to him so for all his family knew they could have considered him dead. He was eventually released from the camp, and they spent most of four months walking to get back to Naples, Italy. On his way through they had been taken back to Russia and had traveled too close to the front lines, where they ran into a group of Russians whom at first did not recognize them. The Russians shot two men in front of my Grandpa before they realized they were Americans.

During his journey home, his family received a letter stating that he was in fact a POW, {prisoner of war} and that he was on his way home and should arrive there safely. My Grandpa had a very scary and exciting life. In my eyes though he was very lucky, because he ran into many close calls. Besides the concentration camp, he was hit with a bullet that went right through his overcoat and didn't even touch him. He was in the army for three years, three months, and twenty-one days, and was released with honorable discharge. I'm sure he was proud of every moment of it. My Grandpa died on December 26th, 2007. He was always my cherished role model, and I will always be his biggest fan. He was a brave and honorable man and if I grow up with half of the things he taught me, I will be set for life. I love him and he will always be my hero.