WWII veterans reunite in Lincoln

Gerard Stel sits on a concrete bench at Antelope Park, surrounded by names of those who weren't as lucky as he was. The names on the walls at the Veterans Memorial Garden are reminders of war's bitter reality.

Stel recounts the luck he had during World War II, when he would scout ahead of other soldiers with a metal rod, poking for land mines and praying he didn't set one off.

Behind dark sunglasses, his wife, Pat Stel, has that look of relief on her face - halfway between rolling her eyes and thanking the Lord her husband is still alive.

Minutes before, during an opening ceremony, Gerard Stel listened indoors as a list was read of his fellow members of the 818th Tank Destroyer Battalion who had lost their lives.

Now he was outdoors in the company of his fellow battalion members. Like Stel, who lives in Temple City, Calif., many came from other states to meet their fellow veterans. They're in Lincoln because the family of battalion member Raymond Schildt, of Seward, volunteered to host this year's reunion. Stel continues his story after a man shakes his hand and thanks him for his service to the country.

This time, Stel talks about the explosives he nearly detonated once.

“I just took ahold of the fuses, and I pulled them out,” he says.

He was 19 then, too young and reckless to know ripping the fuse from a live explosive could have ended his life.

But it didn't, and the injury that left him in the hospital for seven months and disconnected him from his battalion for nearly 50 years wasn't caused by anything blowing up at all.

He broke his sternum in a car crash during the Battle of the Bulge, and had to come home without becoming a paratrooper, which had been his dream.

He was lucky to come home, he said, but was separated from his fellow soldiers.

Stel read about these reunions in a magazine

12 years ago and decided he would start coming to them.

He wasn't sure he'd be recognized by any of his fellow battalion members - he was only in the war a short while, and it had been a long time.

Now, his wife said, “We come every year.”

Not many others do.

War can chisel the ranks of a 600-man battalion, especially one that struggled through the D-Day invasion and Battle of the Bulge.

So does the passing of time. Battalion members have watched their numbers taper after each reunion. In years past, dozens have attended.

On Thursday, there were nine.

“There used to be 55, 60 of them coming,” said battalion member Cecille Wax of Shenandoah, Iowa.

Oscar Gingrich of Waterloo said 70 or more men would come about 35 years ago.

Gingrich worked as a radio operator and an assistant armored-car driver with the 818th. He's missed two reunions since 1965, he said.

His daughter and other children of veterans communicate over the Internet, but this is the one time each year he gets to see his comrades.

“It's just nice to be among the people I went through the service with,” he said.