1942-1946 THE WAR YEARS

The date was December,1942. I was on my way to the Great Lakes Naval Training Center. Mom & pop were at the railroad station moments earlier to see me off.

No tears, just a wave goodbye.

I spent the past year attempting to enroll in the naval service. 20-20 vision was a prerequisite for acceptance to this branch of the military. My vision was less than perfect & I was not accepted. The recruiting officer urged me to eat lots of carrots & undertake certain eye exercises. Look up, look down, look to the side. I followed his suggestions assiduously, gave me headaches but I stayed with them.

Subsequently, I was accepted, probably due less to the effort to improve my vision than to the need for manpower in this rapidly expanding service.

Movies were playing up the attractiveness of military service in cooperation with the war effort. Scenes of heroism on the high seas to the strains of anchors aweigh featuring Pat O'Brien & Jimmie Cagney had appeal for me as did Dick Powell in the movie, "Don't Give up the Ship," they all had an effect.

We were all New York volunteers, or so I thought. I was surprised to hear some southern accents among this group, unusual to say the least for residents of the Bronx, Manhattan & Brooklyn. Most of us having spent our young lives desecrating the English language, especially those from Brooklyn.

En route to Great Lakes, we had our first exposure to boot camp chow. A luncheon sandwich with something akin to creamed chicken on toast, commonly known as shit on a shingle. The toast was the shingle, what was in between needs no further description.

Arriving at the training station, then on to the barracks that would be our home until boot camp was completed. Recruits, our seniors by two or three weeks were hanging out their barracks windows chanting, "you'll be sorry." We were all predominantly teenagers &  acted like the kids we still were. I was nineteen.

In short order we were issued shoes, navy blues & whites, towel, linens, mattress & p-coat, all of which we stuffed into a sea bag & carried with us during our entire naval career.

The Chief Petty Officer (CPO) wasted little time indoctrinating us. Smoking only when the smoking lamp is lit, 24 hour liberty after initial training period & provided there are no infractions. Purchases at ships store only if authorized.

Boot camp chow was hardly edible for many. Restricting access to ships store really imposed a hardship for those who could barely tolerate. the food. Sandwiches & candy in ships store provided sustenance for many. One fellow thought the chow was great. I wondered what his diet was like at home.

If one recruit broke the rules, all would suffer. It seemed childish to me but such treatment was calculated to break down the recruit & instill respect for authority.

It must work; it's still the approved training method.

Reveille at 0400. "Let go of your cock & grab a sock." Prepare for inspection, neat uniform & bed. Navy cap worn at the right angle, one inch above the eyebrows. Failure to pass inspection means loss of privileges.

0600, queue up for morning chow, wait in line in the bitter Midwestern  cold. Drill shortly follows breakfast. The ground is covered with ice, easy to slip. You worry about your footing & falling. After awhile you think, the hell with it, I'll just keep moving, maybe I'll warm up a bit.

One member of our platoon had a special talent, he could release gas at will accompanied by a loud report. We knew him as fartin' Charlie. When Charlie disagreed with something the platoon or section leader wanted us to do, he’d let go. Although his intent was unmistakable, he was never disciplined. It may have been difficult to infer intent for a bodily function that cannot always be controlled.

Sonnenschein was known as sunshine. He was a likeable oddball character but if there was ever a person who was not well suited for military service, it was sunshine.

All attempts to castigate, discipline this free Jewish soul failed. He was put on report countless times, all to no avail. As punishment he was given K.P duty. He'd peel potatoes day after day, his happy carefree mood never flagged.

There was a certain admiration for a fellow who couldn't be broken no matter how harsh the penalty.

Two related Italian boys told humorous  stories about their families. The father of one  worked in a shipyard. Upon returning from work each evening he'd sink heavily into his favorite chair, exhausted from the days effort. One day the boys decided to follow him  & to observe his duties that seemed to be so enervating. The father directed the operation of a crane, loading & unloading cargo. To raise cargo he pointed his index finger upward rotating it in a circle, to lower it he simply pointed his finger downward. The only physical effort involved was the movement of the index finger of his right hand. That evening, the boys told the father what they had witnessed. After being found out, the father dispensed with the fatigue act.

Our section leader was Rosenberg, (Rosie). One afternoon between duties, a few of us were discussing various subjects. One fellow asked, "Is anyone here Jewish?"

I replied I was. He clammed up. I told him he had every right to speak his mind. He then said, "Jewish people are different." I didn't challenge that statement, fact is, I agreed with him. The subject then turned to girls. After discussing the topic for several minutes, which were easiest, blondes or brunettes, which racial group? How about Negro girls, (the black doesn't rub off, you know). What about Jewish girls?. I said Jewish girls