'I'm just livin': World War II veteran Herbert Buchheit looks back on 102 years of faith, love and life

Herbert Buchheit's wartime photographs bear equal resemblance to his single baby picture, circa 1913, and his current 102-year-old self.

More than any one physical characteristic, Buchheit's most apparent and enduring feature is his unaffected air.

He smiles as he earnestly tells stories, and laughs often, even though not all of his experiences have been good.

"There was so much snow on the ground. The biggest group of the Germans had white suits on," he says, recalling the infamous World War II Battle of the Bulge. "They broke through so far. Good thing they didn't break through all the way."

Cutline-File Credit:WWII veteran Herbert Buchheit, age 102, is seen inside his Perryville, Missouri, residence with Waylon Krauss, his 11-year-old great-grandson. (Laura Simon)

He readily admits there were times when he was scared, and many more times when he was sorely homesick, but those times are in the past now. He shrugs again.

"You were, but you couldn't be scared. It was just like a job you had to go do. That was the way we felt about it," he says.

Buchheit served as a combat engineer from October 1942 to October 1945, three years that would provide him with more stories than most accrue in a lifetime.

"In '43 we went over to England to get ready for the invasion of France," he explains. "It was a mess. The English Channel was so full of landing barges ..."

He has so many stories, in fact, that his family has noted a meandering storytelling style.

"He has so much knowledge," says his daughter, Anna Krauss. "When he starts talking about one thing, it goes this way and then this way."

WWII veteran Herbert Buchheit, age 102, is seen inside his Perryville, Missouri, residence. (Laura Simon)

Buchheit decides he should go back to the beginning of the story, when he was drafted. He still has his draft card, along with just about every other document and photograph and trinket from the era.

"These are his dog tags," Buchheit's great-grandson, Waylon Krauss, points out.

"Yeah, all the grandkids would fight to get a hold of this stuff," Anna says.

There are handwritten letters, pay stubs and even a newspaper article from right after the war, titled "Buchheit brothers meet in Germany."

He had served briefly alongside his brother, Erwin, an armored truck technician whom they called "Uncle Speed."

WWII veteran Herbert Buchheit, age 102, is seen inside his Perryville, Missouri, residence. (Laura Simon)

Buchheit's memories are astoundingly personal. He remembers sleeping in repurposed European schoolhouses, making a washing machine out of a butter churn and serving as translator for his superiors. Does he still speak German well?

"Ja, ganz gut!" he says sharply.

But the war was only a few years of his life. The rest were spent around Old Appleton, the hometown where he settled down with the love of his life, Laverne.

When Krauss pulls out the portrait of Herbert and Laverne taken right after the war, he in his uniform, she in a dress, he reaches for it.

They were married for 69 years before Laverne passed away. He kisses the portrait, and a chuckle turns into a short, quiet sob, and then he tucks it aside.

WWII veteran Herbert Buchheit, age 102, is seen inside his Perryville, Missouri, residence. (Laura Simon)

He still likes to tell the story of when they met, on a double date with his brother, Speed.

"Well, Speed was going with Sylvia then, and I came up there and I looked at [Laverne]," he says. "And I said, "What are YOU doing here?!"

"It was just like a dagger put in his chest," Krauss explains.

Love at first sight?

"I guess," he nods.

WWII veteran Herbert Buchheit, age 102, is seen inside his Perryville, Missouri, residence. (Laura Simon)

He's more affected by that portrait than by the stacks of war mementos. But, Krauss explains, he dealt with Laverne's passing in the only way he knew how: his faith.

"When you ask him what he thinks of this or that and he just shrugs, that's just because his faith was really what got him through," Krauss says.

And it still does. How does he feel about being 102? He shrugs again.

"I'm just livin'," he says.