VETS HELPING HEROES, INC
BOCA RATON, FLORIDA

, a highly-decorated WWII veteran and liberated-POW who spent 13 months in Nazi “Stalag Luft I” Prisoner-of-War camp after being shot down on his 35th combat mission as a Bombardier with the 44th Bomb Group. He discarded his dog tags before his capture to hide the fact that he was Jewish. He thought all was lost when he was recognized by a Nazi interrogator. Irwin had been his family’s newspaper boy in Buffalo, NY. The interrogator told Irwin that he wanted to help him and he put a "?" on Irwin’s records next to religion, effectively saving his life. Determined to pay it forward, after retiring from a long career in sales, Irwin volunteered at the West Palm Beach, Florida VA Hospital. In 2007 he learned that there was no money in the VA budget to provide assistance dogs of any kind as a form of treatment. At that time, even Guide Dogs for the visually impaired, could only be provided from private donations. Despite his own PTSD and other personal challenges, Irwin worked feverishly to found Vets Helping Heroes Vets Helping Heroes has a versatile and active board of directors comprised of high-ranking retired military officers, and business professional in the fields of Law, Computers, Healthcare, Non-profit, Film Production, Sales and more. This dynamic team enables us the best opportunity to achieve our goal. In addition, many of our retired military board members have first-hand knowledge and experience of the plight of the interned and injured that we seek to help. Stovroff recalls it thus: "It was to be our 35th, our last scheduled mission, we were to complete our tour. Together we had flown very dangerous missions, many of which were deep into Germany. This trip was just over the Channel, the Falais Pocket in France, a 'milk run.' "Within a week's time we were taken to a major Interrogation center outside of Frankfort, Germany. I think it was called Wetzler. We were separated and placed in solitaire, and individually taken out for continued interrogations. The German officer, my Interrogator, asked me questions I could not and would not answer. I gave him the usual name, rank and serial number, and told him that was all I had to give, and knew very little else. On my third trip with him, he said, ' I know who you are and what you are (meaning Jewish).' He told me he could save my life, then proceeded to name my father, mother, brother, sister, the grammar school I had attended, even the name of a former girl friend. He then said he lived on Ashland Avenue, next to the girl I was dating pre-war. He had lived on the next street -- Claremont Avenue in Buffalo, New York. He said he remembered being in class with my older sister, and then he informed me that I had been his newspaper boy!! He had come to Germany to be with his grandmother, and stayed. He again said he would help me, and he put a question mark on my records next to religion." Stovroff is now a volunteer National Service Officer at West Palm Beach VA Center, working only with ex-POWs to help get pensions and compensations. He has met six ex-POWs that were in his camp. And stranger than fiction, his next door neighbor in Florida was in the same barracks as Stovroff when he was in Stalag Luft #1 "segregated". This man's family owned KATZ DELICATESSEN in New York whose slogan was "Send a Salami to a Soldier In the Army." Spared Death Twice, He Now Helps Ex-POWs “After a few days, this S.S. officer comes in and says he knows everything about me: who my father is and my mother’s maiden name, the street where I live, my elementary school, the girl I dated in high school,” Stovroff says. “I asked how he knew so much and he replied, ‘I once lived a few blocks away from you. You used to be my paperboy. I’ll do what I can to help you.’” “After we completed our mission, I decided that I wasn’t going back up no matter what they did to me. But they gave us a couple days off and we went to London and got drunk and chased girls. By the time the two days were up, we came back saying, ‘Ah, what the heck.’” Stovroff went on to fly 35 missions, ultimately shot down on the one that was to be his last. After his long overdue return home, Stovroff married. He and his wife Sterra had three kids, and he spent 40 years working for Thomasville Furniture, advancing to international sales manager. The outgoing natural-born salesman was still going strong at 75 when, much to his chagrin, company policy forced him to retire. Now 79 and living in Boca West, Stovroff helps those who can’t help themselves as a national service officer for American Ex-Prisoners of War. He volunteers three times a week at the Veteran’s Administration Hospital in West Palm Beach, helping ex-POWs fill out paperwork for pension, medical care and other benefits. Last year, he was belatedly awarded the prestigious Distinguished Flying Cross, which was pinned on his chest by a fellow ex-POW, U.S. Sen. John McCain. Like a lot of World War II vets, Stovroff says his military experience gave him a perspective of life that has helped him succeed as a civilian. Please support Vets Helping Heroes! “The Gift of Life” Learn about Vets Helping Heroes, our founder Irwin Stovroff and some of the veterans whose lives were changed by their wonderful assistance dogs. Vets Helping Heroes has been honored with the gift of a truly wonderful, full length documentary produced and donated by , a highly-decorated WWII veteran and liberated-POW who spent 13 months in Nazi “Stalag Luft I” Prisoner-of-War camp after being shot down on his 35th combat mission as a Bombardier with the 44th Bomb Group. He discarded his dog tags before his capture to hide the fact that he was Jewish. He thought all was lost when he was recognized by a Nazi interrogator. Irwin had been his family’s newspaper boy in Buffalo, NY. The interrogator told Irwin that he wanted to help him and he put a "?" on Irwin’s records next to religion, effectively saving his life. Determined to pay it forward, after retiring from a long career in sales, Irwin volunteered at the West Palm Beach, Florida VA Hospital. In 2007 he learned that there was no money in the VA budget to provide assistance dogs of any kind as a form of treatment. At that time, even Guide Dogs for the visually impaired, could only be provided from private donations. Despite his own PTSD and other personal challenges, Irwin worked feverishly to found