WWII Photos of Mickey Martins In Remembrance of Heroes
Some of these photos are of an extreme graphic
nature. If you are sensitive to such material, you are strongly
to proceed further. These photos include images of the day
Dachau was liberated. On that day, three U.S. Army
divisions converged on the camp: the 42nd Infantry, the 45th Infantry,
and the 20th Armored.
We also ask that you treat these photos with the
respect they deserve, and these images are enhanced, and are under copyright. Please ask permission to use them.
Most photos in Mickey's Photo Album were taken
or owned by Mickey Martins, unless otherwise noted, or if they
are labeled postcards.
All photos in Johnny's Photo Album were taken by John Martins. It has also been presented to me that the photos with the white writing on them in the lower left corner were photos by Robert Spring. So far, I have not been able to ascertain this on my own, but will keep researching. The photos with the white writings were actually copied by the portable x-ray machines they had in the field hospitals. This is information someone has sent me by email to explain the white writing. These photos do not have the same pixel aspect ratio as the ones my father had taken, and he said he had about three cameras. The ones that came from his cameras all have the same pixel aspect ratios, and do not have the white writing on them.
At Least One Exception: The photographs taken at Dachau were taken by one of Mickey's friends, because he could not enter the camp due to the severity of athlete's foot rampant at the camp, so he handed his camera to his friend to go in and record whatever he saw. He had also suffered a severe infection from athlete's foot, as well, and was being treated and recovering from it, so this is the reason why he did this.
Mickey Martins was a member of the 42nd
Rainbow Division, Co. "L" 232nd Infantry Regiment of
the U. S. Army during World War II. He served as a PFC and earned
a Purple Heart during the Battle of the Bulge, in which he was
hit in the back with shrapnel. As with all heroes, particularly
these WWII soldiers, he said they only did their duty, and were
not at all heroes. Rarely did he ever talk about the war.
He was born on April 13, 1925 in Bristol, RI,
and passed beyond this life on June 1, 2001 in Ceres, CA.
This Web site is dedicated to his memory.
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
"Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am in a thousand winds that blow,
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain,
I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush,
I am in the graceful rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight,
I am the starshine of the night.
I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room,
I am the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there. I do not die."
It was rare for my father to tell us his experiences during WWII, but when I got married, he seemed to open up to my husband a lot more about it, and finally told us the stories during that period in his life.
Out of the few that he told us, this one seemed to stand out in my mind ever since we found out about it. To him, all of his duties in the Army during the War was just that, his duty. He said he was not a hero, and he said that he did not deserve any medals. In fact, the only medal he received was the Purple Heart for his injuries during the Battle of the Bulge.
During one of the patrols his unit was on, they came upon a house that was seemingly empty. They feared the German soldiers had been using this house as a shelter. They inspected the interior and found no one there. Then one of the soldiers heard a small noise coming from the cellar. They open the doors, and one soldier pulled out a grenade and was attempting to toss it down into the cellar fearing there were German soldiers hiding there. My father stopped him, and said to wait. He was going down there to see for himself what was in the cellar. He said he had a feeling about it. With potential great peril to himself, he slowly entered the steps down into the dark cellar with his Army rifle ready. He was finally inside when he saw several faces of frightened women and children huddled together. He saved their lives that day. For this, I honor him with this story even though he did not get a medal for this act of bravery.