Warrior Recollections: WORLD WAR II

I joined the army right after the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor, in 1941. Boot camp is rough; it takes lots of time and energy. I take basic training and become one of the top guys in the firing range. I’m good, but small. I can hold my own and I enjoy it, because I show I’m as good as the six-foot-two guys.

Out of boot camp, I take basic training in Mineral Wells, Texas. After training, I’m stationed in California.

We arrive in San Diego, next to Lindberg Airfield.  We unload off the train, and a truck takes us to our base at La Mesa. They put us into the West Coast Defense, and we provide service all the way from Recreation Park in Long Beach to the Mexican border. Several of us walk patrol days and nights on the beach. We do this for almost two years and I love it.

Next we’re stationed in Gainesville, Texas. The captain calls me in one day and says, “I’m gonna give you a thirteen-day furlough.”

I start to ask questions and he says, “No questions, just promise you’ll be back on time.”

 I go to Memphis, visit my wife, and get back. I come in to camp a little early and he says; “When we fill out tomorrow morning, everybody check the bulletin board.”

My name tops the list for shipment overseas. The war is geared up; this is 1943.

         Gainesville is where I break the record for the twenty-five mile hike. The whole battalion has just gotten off one; guys are dropping out all the way, ending up in ambulances. It’s hot there, and it’s tough to stay up. Afterwards, back at the barracks, I fall exhausted, on my bunk. Some guys a couple beds from me are bitching and complaining, “What are they trying to do, kill us?” They’re screaming about the hike, blisters on their feet, between the legs and everyplace.