A few stereotypes of how the French and Americans often see each other. Of course these are broad generalizations and once Americans and French. Prelude to War. Nobody ever commended George Patton for his tact, but he was one of the best "motivational speakers" of his day. The hapless Axis soldiers who found. German men are a rare breed. Adult Dating Forums. They are not conditioned to flirt with women randomly and tend to be quite rigid. In most cases, they come from a rigid background in. I’ve been dating a Brit for 5 months and I’m constantly asking myself what I’m doing wrong or if he’s just not that into me. He’s very loyal and does some.

How Make Difficult Decisions: Advice From Alvin York. Corporal Alvin C. York silently led his squad of men through the thick underbrush and dense fog of the Argonne Forest early the morning of October 8, 1. His regiment had been tasked with charging down Hill 2. Decauville Railroad. Their mission was to cut off this supply line in hopes of pressuring the Germans to surrender.

Dating as an institution is a relatively recent phenomenon which has mainly emerged in the last few centuries. From the standpoint of anthropology and sociology. Politics; Current news, events and issues. Please respect differing opinions. Moderators: vnicepeeps, TravelingFrog. 6540 Posts 539 Topics Last post by durhamlad.

Corporal Alvin C. York silently led his squad of men through the thick underbrush and dense fog of the Argonne Forest early the morning of October 8, 1918.

But the plain had been surrounded by machine gun nests, and the Americans were besieged as they made their way across, the gunfire felling them in a way that reminded York of how the mowing machines back home sliced through thick grass. York’s regiment had become hopelessly isolated and pinned down. If they couldn’t silence the constant barrage of artillery and advance, other troops would soon easily be overcome by a German pincer attack. The commander of York’s Company G, Captain E. C. B. Danforth, ordered 3 of his squads to attempt to slip behind German lines and launch an attack from the rear. Having already lost 7 from their ranks, 1. York, and 1. 3 privates – made their way into the mist and trees in search of the enemy.

What they encountered first were two stretcher bearers, who took off at the sight of the Americans. York and the others gave chase, and the fleeing men led them straight to a camp of Germans calmly eating their breakfast. The Americans had found a Prussian encampment – reinforcements waiting to be called up for battle.

Surprised to see the enemy behind the frontlines and caught totally unaware, the Germans dropped their plates, threw up their hands, and surrendered. But as York and the others attempted to round up their new POWs, a German officer yelled to the machine gunners at the front to swivel around and begin firing on the Americans. In moments, 6 were killed and 3 wounded. Included among the casualties were the 3 other noncoms, leaving Corporal York in command. While the remaining 7 privates took cover, York alone continued to fire at the enemy, methodically picking off the German machine gunners one by one.

As soon a soldier popped his head up over the gun emplacements, York would take him out with a single shot. Not that York was eager to kill the men. After each round he yelled: “That’s enough now! You boys quit and come on down!” None of the Germans took him up on the offer, however, forcing the corporal to continue to quiet one position after another.

Yet York was not out of danger yet. A line of 6 Germans now came sprinting out of the woods in a bayonet charge. Having exhausted his rifle ammunition, York drew his sidearm, a Colt . Taking a lesson learned from his duck hunting days – that picking off the one in the rear rather than the leader caught the group by surprise — York took out the last man in the line first, and then made his way to the front, leveling each German in turn with a single bullet. Of course this method allowed the first man in the line to come dangerously close to reaching the corporal, but with only a yard between he and the last German, York dispatched him with his final shot. When the corporal turned his attention back to his 7 privates and 2.

POWs, he saw that a German commander among the latter had been firing at him the whole time from behind! York disarmed the would- be assassin, and had his men organize the Germans for a march. As the group made their way towards the front lines, York came across a Prussian platoon commander and then a battalion commander as well, both of whom he promptly added to his contingent of prisoners. With the way the thick forest obscured one’s line of sight, the gunfire, and general confusion of the day, these German leaders assumed that York and his privates were merely the advance guard of a much larger force. When the battalion commander asked York how many men he had, York answered confidently: “Oh, I got a- plenty!”York had the German battalion commander blow his whistle to signal a cease- fire, to keep the Prussians from firing on them as they added more POWs to their entourage and continued to make their way to the front. As York approached the American lines, he had to be sure to call out to let his fellow doughboys know that this large line of Germans was in fact under the control of American soldiers! York delivered his prisoners to regimental headquarters.

It had been a little over 3 hours since the start of Company G’s mission, and in that time York had nearly single- handedly killed 2. Americans on Hill 2. When he moved the POWs onto division headquarters, General Julian R. Lindsey remarked, “Well, York, I hear you have captured the whole damn German Army.” “No, sir,” York, replied. When General “Blackjack” Pershing pinned upon him the Distinguished Service Cross, he called York the “greatest civilian- soldier of the war.”York’s story of bravery, confidence, and resolve is surely remarkable. But what makes it even more extraordinary is what one would have found by thumbing through his military file — a slip of paper which read: “Desires release as he is a conscientious objector.”One of the most decorated American fighters of WWI had initially not wanted to be a fighter at all.

How Alvin C. York decided between his religious convictions against war and his desire to serve his country can provide every man with a pattern of how to wrestle with the weightiest decisions of our lives. York’s Decision. Alvin C.

York was born December 1. Pall Mall — a tiny outpost of civilization tucked away in Tennessee’s beautiful Valley of the Three Forks of the Wolf. Surrounded by hickory and oak- covered mountains, York grew up with ten brothers and sisters in a small two- room cabin. The children’s mother was a sturdy but loving backwoodswoman, their father a kind, hard working, upright farmer and blacksmith who scraped out a meager but sufficient rural living.

Young Alvin received only a few months of schooling, and was often by his father’s side as a boy, learning his craft by the forge and accompanying him on nighttime hunting trips with the family’s hounds. When York was 2. 4, his father died, and with his two older brothers married and moved away, Alvin became the new head of the household. He embraced his responsibility to care for his mother and eight remaining siblings, and took jobs farming, smithing, and building roads to provide for them. But without his father’s watchful and loving influence, York soon developed some rebellious new habits. He started smoking, gambling, swearing, and drinking – chugging bottles of moonshine with a new crowd of rough associates. He spent most days of the week visiting ramshackle saloons where he often got into fights with the other patrons. He was hauled into court for shooting a neighbor’s turkeys for sport and selling weapons illegally.

He embarrassed his family by shooting up a tree outside the local church while services were being held and stumbling drunk and belligerent through a community picnic. He was rude, disrespectful, and surly, and now 2.

York’s mother admonished him to change his ways and lay in bed each night waiting for him to come home from another round of cavorting, praying for him to get his life back on track and desperately worried that his next fight might be his last. Late one night, as York once again stumbled in drunk through the door of the family cabin, he was surprised to see his mother sitting in a rocking chair by the fire. He hadn’t known she always stayed awake at night waiting for him, and had never seen her up at such an hour. She turned to her son, fixed her gaze upon him, and softly asked: “Alvin, when are you going to be a man like your father and grandfather?” Mother York had pleaded with her wayward son for years to change his ways, but had never been so direct — never before appealed to the examples of his lineage, the men whose blood he shared. York’s father had never drank, swore, or smoked. He had been a pillar in the community, with a sterling reputation among his neighbors for complete honesty and fairness.

His grandfather had also been known as a man who always did what was right. His mother’s simple but piercing question brought York up short. Thinking of these two upright men and his rich heritage of manhood, and then of his three years of drifting, he was hit with the sudden, deep realization of how selfish and irresponsible he had been, how much money and time and trust he had wasted, how empty he felt, and how far he had departed from the man he wished to be, from the man his father would have been proud of.

He fell to his knees, put his head into his mother’s lap, and wept. She too began to cry; it was the first time York had ever seen his mother shed tears.“Mother,” Alvin began, “I promise you tonight that I will never drink again as long as I live. I will never smoke or chew again. I will never gamble again.

I will never cuss or fight again. I will live the life God wants me to live.” It was just past midnight on New Year’s Day, 1.

Alvin York had begun a brand new chapter in his life. Determined to walk the straight and narrow, York confessed his sins and was saved at a revival meeting weeks later. He threw himself into his new Christian faith with a convert’s zeal – making good on his promise to clean up his life, studying the Bible as often as he could, and admonishing his neighbors to live more piously. He joined a new church – the Church of Christ in Christian Union — and became the congregation’s elder, song leader, and Sunday school teacher. Life was coming together beautifully for Alvin York.

His faith gave him purpose, he got engaged to a woman he thought was the prettiest and most chaste in the whole valley, and he supported his family by working hard at farming, blacksmithing, and other jobs. He spent his Saturdays hunting with his hounds and engaging in marksmanship contests with the other men in town, and his Sundays belting out hymns from the pew. He had never felt so hopeful and fulfilled, and he looked forward to a long life of simple peace and purpose amongst his friends and loved ones. But on June 5, 1.