Questions to Ask a WW2 Veteran
Anyone who served in the Second World War is now close to a hundred, so these questions to ask a WW2 veteran are written for short, unhurried visits: a great-grandchild with a recorder, a student with a history project, or a family piecing the story together from letters after the veteran has gone. They run in the order the years did: growing up, going into uniform, the service itself, home and letters, the war's end and looking back. Combat is left for the veteran to bring up, and most of the questions still work when a son or daughter is answering in their place.
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The questions
Each question, and why to ask it
Growing up
Where was home before the war, and who was living in the house?
Why ask it
Home and family make an easy first answer, well away from the fighting. Write down every brother and sister by name, because those are the people who turn up later in the letters and at the homecoming. Get the street or the nearest town too, so you can find it on a map afterward.
Where were you when you heard about Pearl Harbor, or the news that your country was at war?
Why ask it
For most Americans that day is December 7, 1941; a British or Polish family counts from September 1939 and a Chinese one from earlier still, so name the date that fits. People who were teenagers then can usually place the room, the radio and who spoke first. Ask what the adults said next, and whether anyone at the table understood that it meant them.
Were you still in school when the war came, or already working?
Why ask it
It fixes their age and their trade in one answer. A boy who left a farm and a girl who left a typing pool came home to different choices, so look at this answer again when you reach the homecoming.
What did your family do for a living in the 1930s, and how tight was money?
Why ask it
Most people of that age were children in the hard years of the 1930s, and it explains a good deal of what follows. Some veterans say the service was the first place they had new boots or three meals every day, so ask whether that was true in their house.
Did your father or an uncle serve in the First World War, and what had they told you about it?
Why ask it
Their parents' war ended about twenty years before theirs began, so many grew up with an old soldier at the supper table. What that man said, or his silence, colored what joining up meant. If the family has his medals or photographs, ask to see the two wars side by side.
Who were your closest friends at seventeen, and where did the war send each of them?
Why ask it
One street's worth of friends could end up in three services and on two oceans, which shows a student the scale better than any number. Some of those friends did not come back. Let the veteran say so in their own time and do not ask how.
What did you do for fun before the war: dances, radio shows, the movies, ball games?
Why ask it
A good one for a great-grandchild to ask, because the answer is cheerful and full of words worth explaining. Get the name of the band, the dance hall or the movie theater, then play one of those songs at your next visit and see what it brings back.
What had you planned to do with your life before the war changed the plan?
Why ask it
Write the answer down word for word. The last group has a question that comes back to it, and the distance between the plan and the life is often the best minute of the whole recording.
Into uniform
Did you volunteer or were you drafted, and what did your family say about it?
Why ask it
How people were called up depended on the country and the year, so ask how it worked where they lived instead of picturing a notice in the mail. Some signed on early to have a say in the branch. A mother and a father often took the news differently, and it is worth hearing about each.
How old were you when you went in, and did you or anyone you knew add a year to get there?
Why ask it
Stories of boys who lied about their age run in a lot of families, and this is the chance to hear it first hand or learn it never happened. The real age also helps you date everything else, since at this distance they may recall being nineteen more surely than they recall the year.
Which service did you end up in, and was it the one you wanted?
Why ask it
Leave room for answers that are not army, navy or air force: the merchant ships, a women's service, nursing, a coast guard, a resistance group. If they were steered away from their first choice, ask who decided and on what grounds.
Who came to the station or the bus stop to see you off, and what was said?
Why ask it
Most can still see the platform. Ask what was in the bag and what their father did with his hands, because small details like those are what a family keeps. If a relative is answering for them, ask whether a photograph of that day exists.
What do you remember about your first days in: the medical exam, the haircut, the uniform they handed you?
Why ask it
Almost always a funny answer: boots two sizes too big, a line of strangers in their underwear, a barber with one style. Laughing together this early makes the harder groups easier to reach, so do not hurry it.
Where did you do your basic training, and what job did they train you for?
Why ask it
The specialty tells you which war you are about to hear: a cook, a radio operator, a rifleman, a mechanic and a nurse each had a different one. Write the camp or base name down, then ask whether they ended up doing the job they were trained for.
How did you get from training to the war: a troop train, a troopship, a convoy, a long flight?
Why ask it
For many it was the first time out of their home region, never mind across an ocean, so ask what surprised them about the people packed in beside them. Get the name of the ship if there was one. With a name and a month you can often look the crossing up afterward.
In service
Which unit, ship or squadron were you with, and what was your own job in it?
Why ask it
Have them say it slowly, numbers and all, and read it back. The exact name is the key to unit histories, ships' logs and other families looking for the same people. Get the rank they finished with while you are there; a discharge paper, if the family kept one, often confirms both.
Where in the world did the war take you, and can you show me on this map?
Why ask it
Bring an atlas, and expect names that are no longer on it: Burma, Ceylon, Formosa, the Dutch East Indies. Mark each stop in pencil with the season or year. The route on paper becomes the spine of whatever you write up.
People say war is mostly waiting. What did you do with the long dull stretches?
Why ask it
Expect cards, laundry, letters home and the same equipment cleaned one more time. It is the truest picture of a serviceman's or servicewoman's week and it asks nothing painful. If the answer is 'we were never bored', ask what kept them so busy.
What did they feed you, and is there anything you have refused to eat ever since?
Why ask it
Canned meat, powdered eggs and ration packs get named with real feeling eighty years on. Ask what they would have traded for a home meal, and which meal it would have been. A spouse or child in the room will often confirm the lifelong ban.
What was the weather and the ground like where you were, and how did you live with it?
Why ask it
Cold, mud, jungle damp or desert grit is often remembered more exactly than any date. Sometimes this answer walks on its own toward a hard day. If it does, listen and do not steer.
Who was your closest friend in the service, and where were they from?
Why ask it
Ask for the full name and the hometown and spell both back. If the friend survived the war, ask when they last spoke. If the friend did not, the veteran will tell you, and the only follow-up needed is 'what were they like?'
Who in your outfit could make everyone laugh, and what did they get up to?
Why ask it
Every outfit had one, and the stories about him or her have usually been polished over decades of telling. Let it run long. A veteran who has been cautious up to here often relaxes for good after this one.
Did the war throw you in with people you would never have met otherwise, from other regions or other countries?
Why ask it
Armed forces in those years were often divided by race, class or sex in ways a student may not expect, and allies from several countries shared camps. Ask what the rules were in their unit and what they thought of them then. Record the answer as given, in the language of the time.
What do you remember about the local people where you were stationed or passing through?
Why ask it
The answers are small and vivid: children asking for chocolate, a family that took in the washing, a girl at a dance. If the veteran married someone from overseas, this is where that story starts. Find out whether they ever wrote to any of those people afterward.
Did you get any leave, and where did you spend it?
Why ask it
A few days in London, Paris, Sydney, Cairo or back home is safe, bright ground. Keep this one in reserve for the moment after something heavy, when you both need the room to lighten before going on.
Were you ever sick or laid up in a hospital, and who took care of you?
Why ask it
Fevers, bad feet and weeks in a ward were ordinary, and asking about them reaches the hospital ships, the aid stations and the nurses without asking what happened in the fighting. If the answer is a wound, that is theirs to tell at whatever length they choose. A one-word reply means move on to something lighter.
What did you carry in your pockets or your kit that the service never issued?
Why ask it
It might be a photograph, a prayer book, a lucky coin or a letter folded soft. Ask whether it came home and where it is now. If it is in the house, having it on the table will do more than your next three questions.
Is there one day from your service you want remembered, told in as much or as little detail as you like?
Why ask it
This is as close as the list comes to asking about combat, and it leaves the door for them to open. Whatever comes, do not interrupt and do not ask for more than you were given. If the answer is 'not today', thank them and go on to the letters.
Home and letters
Who wrote to you most faithfully, and how long did a letter take to find you?
Why ask it
Mail could take weeks or months and then arrive five letters at once. Ask how mail call worked and what it was like for the ones whose name was not read out. If you are talking to the family, ask who did the writing at their end and how often.
What were you not allowed to put in a letter, and did you and your family find a way around it?
Why ask it
Service mail was usually read by a censor, and some families agreed on a private code beforehand so a place could be hinted at. Then ask what matters most for the record: did the letters survive, and who has them now? Offer to photograph them where they are kept instead of borrowing them.
What did you miss most while you were away: a person, a meal, your own bed?
Why ask it
The small answers are the good ones: a mother's bread, a dog, a quiet room. Ask whether it was as good as they remembered once they got back to it. With a family member, turn it around and ask who at home missed the veteran hardest and how it showed.
What was life like for the people at home while you were away: who was working, what was scarce?
Why ask it
The veteran knows the ration books, the blackout curtains and the factory shifts second hand, so if a sister, wife or child of that household is alive, put this one to them directly. Rationing was not the same from one country to the next, so ask how it worked on their street.
How much did your family know about where you were, and how did they find out?
Why ask it
Often it was no more than a mailing address and a guess from the newspapers. Ask what a telegram at the door meant on their street. For a son or daughter answering in the veteran's place, change it to what their mother or grandmother said about the waiting.
Did you have a sweetheart or a spouse during the war, and how did the two of you manage the distance?
Why ask it
Weddings on a three-day pass, engagements by mail and photographs worn at the corners all belong here. If the husband or wife has since died this may be the tenderest answer of the day, so give it time and ask how they first met.
War's end
Where were you when the war in Europe ended, and where were you when Japan surrendered?
Why ask it
There were two endings, in May and in August of 1945, and which one felt like the real one depends on where they were. Someone in the Pacific may barely have noticed the first. Ask what the people around them did in the first hour.
What went through your mind when you heard about the atomic bomb?
Why ask it
Expect an answer shaped by where they stood: someone waiting to be shipped toward Japan heard that news differently from a reader today. Take it down as said and keep your own view out of the room. A student can set the answer beside the textbook afterward.
How long did you wait to be sent home after the fighting stopped, and what did they have you doing?
Why ask it
The wait could be many months of guard duty, occupation work or plain boredom. American veterans may talk about counting points, and other services had their own order of release, so ask how the turn was decided in theirs.
What was your first sight of home: a harbor, a station platform, your own front door?
Why ask it
Ask who was standing there and who was missing. Some came back to a child who did not know them or a town that had moved on, and the first hour often held joy and awkwardness together. Let them tell you which it was.
What did you do with your first year back: school, a trade, the old job, a wedding?
Why ask it
An American may bring up the GI Bill, and other countries had their own programs for returning service members. None of them reached everyone equally, so ask what they were told they could have, whether they got it, and who helped them apply.
Did you talk about the war once you were home, and who would listen?
Why ask it
'Nobody asked and I didn't offer' is a common answer for that generation. If children of the veteran are present, ask them what they heard growing up, then ask the veteran whether it became easier to speak with age, and why.
What did you bring home and keep: the uniform, medals, discharge papers, a photograph album, a souvenir?
Why ask it
Ask to see it, find out what each ribbon or medal was given for, and photograph every item with their permission, labels and backs included. If the family wants the official service record, ask the national archive or veterans' office of the country they served how to request it, because the rules, and what has survived, vary.
Looking back
Did you keep up with the people you served with, and when was the last reunion?
Why ask it
At this age they may be the last of their unit, and that can be a lonely thing to say out loud. Ask what the reunions were like when the hall was full, and whether any of the other families are still in touch. Those families may hold photographs of your veteran.
Did you ever go back to see the beach, the airfield or the town again, and what was it like to stand there?
Why ask it
Those who returned often describe how small or how quiet the place had become. If they never went, ask whether they would like you to go and what you should look for. A grandchild who later makes that trip with this answer in hand has a map nobody else has.
When you see the war in a film or hear it taught in a classroom, what is missing?
Why ask it
The answer is usually something unheroic: the smell, the tedium, the fear of letting the others down. For a school assignment, quote the reply in full. It is likely to be the strongest line in your paper.
More than eighty years have passed since the war ended. How large a part of your life does it seem now?
Why ask it
Some will say it was three or four years out of a hundred, and others that not a day passes without it. Do not guess which you will get. The answer tells you how to frame everything else you have recorded.
Near the beginning you told me what you had planned for your life. What became of that plan?
Why ask it
Read their own words back from the Growing up group before you ask, and skip this one if you never put that earlier question. Hearing a seventeen-year-old's plan in a great-grandchild's voice tends to bring out a reflective answer that a direct 'how did the war change you?' does not.
Who from those years should be remembered by name, and what do you want said about them?
Why ask it
Have each name spelled, and say it back aloud so it is on the recording in two voices. If you write anything up, put those names in it. A veteran who has outlived the whole unit may feel they are the only one left to say them.
Is there a story the family tells about your war that is not quite right, and would you set it straight?
Why ask it
Family legend drifts: the wrong beach, a medal that grew, a famous general who was never there. Ask it with a smile and have the relatives listen. When you are interviewing the family alone, turn it around and ask which stories they have never been able to confirm.
What do you want me to pass on about you and about those years?
Why ask it
It hands them the last word and tells them the conversation will outlive the visit. Record the answer even if you have stopped recording everything else. If they are tired, this and a thank-you are enough of an ending.
Interviewing a veteran who is close to a hundred
Practical guidance for the conversation itself
Before the visit
Ask the household what a good hour looks like
Call whoever looks after them and ask which part of the day they are sharpest, how long they like to sit, and whether hearing aids or glasses need to be in. If they live in a nursing home or assisted living, ask the staff how visits and recording work there before you arrive with a microphone.
Collect the paper trail first
A discharge paper, a photograph in uniform or one old letter tells you the service, the rough years and often the unit. Ten minutes with those before the visit keeps you from asking a sailor about foxholes, and lets you spend their energy on what no document holds.
Mark about ten questions
Nobody of that age should be taken through the whole list. Choose one or two from each group, star the three you would hate to miss, and ask those while they are fresh. The rest can wait, and a second visit is often welcome.
Bring things to hold and hear
A map with large print, photographs enlarged to a full page and a song from the early 1940s on your phone all reach memories a spoken question may not. Put one item on the table at a time so the conversation stays on it.
Say where the recording is going
Ask permission to record, then say plainly who will hear it: a teacher, the family, a museum. If it is meant for an archive or a veterans' history collection, get their requirements for format, length and signed release before the visit, since each sets its own.
Talking with someone very old
Sit close and ask one thing at a time
Face them in good light, on the side of their better ear, with the television off. Many of the questions here have two halves, and a person who hears poorly will catch only one. Ask the first, wait for the whole answer, and only then ask the second. Speak slowly and clearly without shouting.
Several short sittings
Half an hour to forty minutes is a full session for many people of this age. Stop while it is going well, say when you will be back, and begin the next visit by reading out one thing they told you last time.
When a date or a name will not come
Do not supply it and do not correct it. Say 'it doesn't matter, tell me what it looked like' and move on, then check the detail later against the papers or a unit history. In your write-up, give their version as their version and put the checked fact beside it.
The story you have heard before
A story told many times over the decades is still worth recording once in full. Afterward, ask for a detail outside the usual telling, such as what happened the next morning, and you may get something new.
A helper in the room
A daughter or caregiver can be a real help with hearing and with names. Agree beforehand that the veteran answers first and the helper adds afterward, and seat the helper beside you so the veteran is not answering over a shoulder.
Tiredness comes first
Watch for shorter answers, a drifting gaze or a hand rubbing the eyes. Those are your signal to finish with an easy question and a thank-you, whatever is left on your page.
Combat and other things to leave with them
Questions not to ask
Do not ask whether they killed anyone, how many, or what the worst thing they saw was. The list goes around those on purpose. If you are a student and a classmate dares you to ask, the answer is still no.
If they bring it up themselves
Then it is theirs to tell, and your job is to stay still. Keep the recorder running unless they ask you to stop, do not gasp or praise, and when they finish say 'thank you for telling me' before anything else.
Tears and long pauses
A pause is often the memory arriving. Wait, offer water, and ask whether they would like to go on, change the subject or stop for today. Any of the three is a good outcome.
Words from another time
A veteran may use wartime names for the enemy that are offensive now. You do not need to repeat them or argue. Record what was said, and if the interview is for school, ask your teacher how to handle such words in a transcript.
Neither hero nor victim
'You must have been so brave' closes a story as surely as doubt does. Ask what happened next instead, and let them choose their own words for what it was.
After a heavy visit
Tell the relative or caregiver, quietly, that hard memories came up, so someone who knows them is nearby that evening. If you are the one unsettled by what you heard, talk it over with a parent or a teacher.
When the family is telling it
Turn the questions around
Nearly every question works with 'he' or 'she' in place of 'you', followed by 'and how do you know?'. A story heard from the veteran directly, one passed on by a grandmother and one worked out from a photograph are three different kinds of evidence, so note which is which.
Start with the shoebox
Lay out the letters, photographs, patches and papers before asking anything. Postmarks, the backs of photographs and the stamps on a discharge paper give dates and places that memory at second hand cannot. Photograph everything in the order it was stored.
Ask each relative separately
Brothers and sisters often carry different halves of a story, and each will defer to the oldest when they share a room. Talk to them one at a time, then bring them together and read the differences aloud.
Requesting official records
Service records are held by the archive or veterans' office of the country the person served, and each has its own rules on who may apply and what proof is needed. Not every file has survived the decades, so ask them directly what exists before you promise the family anything.
Give the work back
Write the names on a copy of every photograph while someone alive can still identify the faces, and give each branch of the family the recording and your notes. If a museum or local history society might want a copy, ask the family first and then ask the society how it takes donations.