In spite of the heat, a packed house at the Gratiot County Historical Museum agreed they would rather leave the air conditioner off than miss any part of the latest event coordinated with the temporary WWII exhibit.  On Saturday August 25, WWII veteran Tony Kuna and his daughter Laurie regaled an appreciative audience with tales of his service.

Part of the 71st Artillery division, Tony saw combat duty in Europe.  As the flank guard in charge of a .50 caliber gun and crew, he shot down multiple planes.  In the process, he earned 2 bronze stars.

Then, in 1945, the 71st  stumbled upon Gunskirchen, a concentration camp near Wels, Austria.  The crowd at the museum had the privilege to hear the passion in Tony’s voice as he gave his eyewitness testimony.  The smell of death, he said, had hung heavy in the air, and his stomach couldn’t hold down his breakfast the first time he stood at the gates of the camp.  That the people imprisoned in the camp had undergone unbelievable torment cried out from all corners.  The best way Tony found to leave listeners with a picture of the survivors was to bid us imagine that old friend of the science classroom:  a skeleton.  Now, cover the skeleton with flesh-colored trash bags to represent skin, and suck all the air out.

Tony’s unit spent a week at the camp.  The survivors were so malnourished that they could only be fed pieces of bread soaked in warm water; anything more would overwhelm their systems and kill them.  In fact, Tony was once taking a break when one of those walking-skeletons sat down next to him.  In the universal language, the survivor motioned that he’d like the cigarette Tony had been smoking.  Tony was willing to share and handed it over.  The survivor promptly swallowed it,  (imagine being hungry enough to eat a lit cigarette) but then fell over dead.

Horrors surrounded them.  The bodies were everywhere, and especially gruesome were those on whom the camp doctors had been doing surgical investigations without anesthesia.  The American soldiers were disgusted that the townspeople near the camp to denied they knew about what was going on there.  So they made the “bigwigs” come out to the camp, measure the bodies and use hand tools to build the coffins.

For many years after the war, Tony kept these experiences to himself, for how could anyone who wasn’t there understand?  Yet as time passed, new generations came along.  At a family gathering, young people were discussing the rising academics who taught that the Holocaust never happened.  Tony spoke up:  “I saw those bodies.  I was there.  Don’t let them tell you it never happened!”  And his story began to come out.

In 1999, armed with her knowledge about her father’s service, Tony’s daughter Laurie made a visit to the Holocaust Memorial Center near Detroit, MI.  In the process, she was able to bring about a meeting between her father and Harry Weinstein, a 14-year-old Jewish boy liberated from Gunskirchen.  The two men became close friends, right up until Harry’s recent death.

From air battles over Europe to the beaches of Normandy on D-day; from the Battle of the Bulge to liberating a concentration camp; from the decks of kamikazied aircraft carriers to foxholes on Okinawa; from the dropping of the first atomic bomb to “every-day” service, men and women of Gratiot County served selflessly in the heart of WWII.  Unfortunately, the display of items loaned to the museum in Ithaca must end Wednesday September 26.  Don’t miss your chance to see this record of their service, Wednesdays from 1-4 PM!