My Grandfather: A Brief Biography Of An Immigrant

Before I was born, my grandfather, Robert James Kilian, died of lung cancer. He was a father, husband, and WWII Veteran. My dad always described him as short, stocky, and strong. I really wish I could have met him. Sadly, I don’t have spare time machine lying around though. So, I figured the least I could do was try and capture his essence and have it live on in the memories of others.

Robert, along with many of his first generation Irish Americans felt the call to serve their country when on December 7, 1941 the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. Robert endured the trained in Fort Custer training camp in Kalamazoo, Michigan for 10 weeks. Then he was deployed to France.

He drove the ambulance between and in active combat zones. Making sure he got the medics where they needed to be to save the lives on both sides, Unarmed. His fearlessness got him into serious trouble however, he was held up at gunpoint by 3 adolescent Nazi’s. Who repeated “schokolade” to him. The German boys with guns just wanted some the Hershey’s chocolate bars in their rations. All the men in the ambulance gave them their chocolate rations, and they left. Just like that. Robert told my dad, he said he knew he was going to die, and he was never so glad to be wrong in his life.

As the Allies tightened the noose around the neck of the Germans, victory became accelerated.

Little did he know, but My grandfather was about to attend to some of his last duties in the war. He was driving the medics My Dad told me his dad was never really comfortable talking about this, but there is one story he did tell him. The story about how my Grandfather was at the concentration camps Dachau and Treblinka. He saw how they treated the Jews, he saw the sights, he heard the cries, he smelled the smells. It was enough to a lot to endure, but my Grandfather served admirably despite the dirt, danger and

disgust.

After the War, he was shipped back to the States. With his experience of heavy equipment he was able to do secure work as a semi-truck driver and hi-lo driver. Working at Detroit Edison for a time as well. Then he met my Grandmother who also contributed to the war effort by building planes. They got married, had a son who became my dad. After beating and surviving so much in his life, his luck finally ran out. When in 1993, he passed away. I’ll never get to meet you, but hopefully we’re closer in spirit now.