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In High School I took a vocational class in Printing. I learned how to set type on a Linotype Machine. It was a high paying blue collar job, and I became good at it. Much later I would become an owner in a type setting company.
There were veterans from WWII working in my company that I came to admire and trust. Most of them carried the scars of war both physically and mentally. I want to tell you about some of them.
Bob was in the First Marine Division and landed at Guadalcanal to take Henderson field so the Air Force could land planes and fight from there. The enemy cut their supply line and they ran out of everything. Bob was forced to eat raw fish for weeks and said: “I can never eat fish again, cooked or not.”
Bob walked with a limp and carried shrapnel in his legs. He was the only veteran that would talk about his experiences. I once brought a photo book to work on the Guadalcanal Landing, and Bob was quick to tell me about his part in it. The downside came with his mood swings. He would have periods of anger over the smallest remarks. I, and the others knew to allow him space and time for recovery. Bob was a good man put into a terrible war. He died young, in his forties. Just sat down on the floor and died, I still miss him.
Les was a Linotype operator, and a Medic in WWII. He landed with the troops on Iwo Jima. He would say very little about his war experiences. He did mention that he saw them raise the American Flag on Mount Suribachi. Les said: “the flag they raised was very small, not like the one you see in the Memorial.”
Les was quite and withdrawn, but like Bob, could get angry over small things. Les helped me in my early day of typesetting while working for another company. When I got my own company I hired him to work for me. He was my teacher for running and fixing the Linotype Machine. I learned a lot from Les.
Shirley (male) said almost nothing about his war experiences. I did learn he caught Malaria in the jungles of Borneo, and still took medicine. He was really quite and withdrawn. Spent his time “marking up” jobs for the plant and avoiding conversations with others.
I have always had great respect for the veterans of foreign wars. They forever deserve our thanks and gratitude.
After WWII was over the solders came home. My mother was careful, and warned us kids not to bother them. She seemed afraid of them. But there was a former solder living in our neighborhood named Claude. He would play with us and seemed safe enough though my mother disapproved.
Claude was a former Ranger in the service. He did not talk about his war experiences, but was quick to tell us the large dimple in his cheek was due to an enemy bullet flying into one side and out the other. He remarked: “wish my mouth had been open, wouldn’t have lost my teeth.”
We mostly played “hide and seek” or “tag” with Claude. We could never catch him. When we got close once, I saw him grasp the raindownspout on his house, climb it, run across the roof, and jump to the ground on the other side leaving us far behind.
Later I learned Claude was a deeply spiritual person. I think that made a big difference in how he managed to endure the horrors of war. He later moved away and we heard he became a successful businessman.
As I grew older and joined the work-a-day world, I would meet other veterans who didn’t fare as well as Claude. Veterans that carried mental as well as physical scars with them for the rest of their lives. That will be a future post on the War.
I grew up during World War II, in all the ways a person can. The mood was sober and concentrated, but people were friendly for the most part. Military people were held in high esteem. They got the free meals and the best seats, no one complained. Their lives were on the line for us and we knew it. Solders with their thumbs up on the highway were never passed, and usually taken straight to their destination. It was a far different world than today.
I helped my brother throw a morning newspaper route. Then, in the evenings get out my little red wagon, and collect newspapers, metal, especially aluminum to take to school where there was a large bin to hold them. They were picked up and recycled for the war effort.
It was not uncommon the see a Jeep with two uniformed officers driving down our street. Everyone knew that another family was receiving a Gold Star and news of the loss of a loved one. I also collected money for recent Gold Star families for a wreath to put on their door. Most everyone did something for the war effort. The whole country felt the weight of the war.
I post this for Veterans Day on November 11, to remind us of the sacrifices of military people who willingly lay down their lives for us and the cause of freedom. May we never allow anyone to attack our system of Constitutional Law.
