When Books Went to War

75 Years Ago—Apr. 8, 1940:  Gallup poll: 84% of Americans want Allies to win,      2% want German victory, only 23% want US to join war.

I found the above information quite interesting.  On second thought, realizing how many Americans in the area where I was raised were only 1 generation from being born in German, it is almost surprising that more were not still supporting their “vaterland.” I remember, as a child, hearing German spoken by many elderly outside of church. This was at least 10 years after the end of the War.   ----   Wonder what would have happened if anyone spoke Japanese!

  

  On a happier note, I received two birthday gifts from my oldest daughter over the weekend. (My birthday is in Feb.---she takes after her mother!)  So excited to read both  books.  Kristine heard a discussion on NPR about When Books Went to War, and thought of my love of history and reading.  She ordered The Immortal Wife because it was one of the books that caused protests from some that the government was dispersing lewd, licentious literature to our troops! 

   I opened The Immortal Wife randomly.  The first line I read was a reference to General Winfield Scott. For most, this would mean zip, but we lived in Ft. Scott, Kansas for twenty years, and all of our children attended kindergarten at Winfield Scott Elementary School.  Amazing the connections our lives have.  Kind of like the way different people in my book Just Doin’ Our Duty (trying to get professionally published) came to my attention, and had to be included.   

This book was not pictured on Amazon. So happy Kristine gave me the “Armed Services Edition” instead of the original.  When I saw the author was Irving Stone, I thought, What have I read that he wrote? How do I know his name?   He wrote The Agony and the Ecstasy: A Biographical Novel of Michelangelo  which I read 50 years ago as a senior in high school.                                                                     

  

On April 1^st, 1940 the British Minister of Food announces Dig for Victory campaign to encourage growing food at home. 

Reading that note reminded me of my parents’ garden. They would have laughed at the idea someone had to suggest growing a garden. They would also have laughed at how clean the gardener on the poster looked. When we came from the garden, we used to be covered w/ dust that had caked onto the sweat running down our faces and arms. (If it wasn’t blowing dust, it was dirt from the broken, rock-hard clods our brothers threw while they were supposed to be helping weed or harvest something.  They knew after hitting one of us girls hard enough, we would scream for them all to get out of the garden. 

Even with little help from those demons,  I know our garden had to have been one of the largest in Sedgwick Cnty---Kansas.  I wasn’t born until after the War, but we still cultivated the huge plot my grandparents had previously. In it we grew enough to feed our family of 14 (eventually) and half the neighbors thru the winter---and Mom practically gave the produce away.  We picked bushel after bushel of green beans and had to pile at least another ¼ bushel on top. . . “because they’ll settle by the time folks get them home and we don’t want anyone to feel we cheated them.” We charged $1.00 a bushel ---if the people could afford it.  The $$$ was put in a jar for new shoes and clothes for school. 

   Mom was pregnant so much of the time she worked in the garden---had 4 Dec. babies/ 1 November/ 1 October/ 2 August & 1 July.  Can you imagine bending over rows of vegetables w/ a “big belly” as she always said, in the heat of the summer!  No wonder she was “a little cranky” at times!!!  Then we had to prepare and can all that “shit”.  We all cussed those vegetables all summer,  “but they will taste mighty good this winter!”  was Mom’s constant admonition.

   Unfortunately, I don’t have a picture of Mom working in the garden. That is sad because she spent so much time there. My mother passed away five years ago today---April Fools Day.  We all said that the day spoke volumes about her sense of humor until the end.  

Today is the 70^th anniversary of the final strategic mission flown by the 15^th Air Force stationed in Italy. “ 650 bombers hit Prague and Cheb, Czechoslovakia.”  Can you imagine seeing that many bombers in the sky overhead and the devastation they would cause?

My uncle Ben Wetta was part of this group.  He was lead pilot on 16 of 34 missions, each of which was made up of 24---42 planes. When we watch movies etc., the pilots all seem so confident and gung ho. However, after his first mission, Ben wrote my dad that it was so horrible that he would give either leg if he never had to fly another.

Ben is in bottom row, 2^nd from the right. 

This is his crew.

Watching the national news Monday evening, I saw a group of veterans who survived the battle of Iwo Jima, returning to visit the island. Among them was one of the few Japanese survivors.  All were “friends” now, and agreed that war is hell, and they had hoped their efforts would prevent wars in the future.

We don’t seem to have come far in learning that we are all people who mostly want to live in peace and enjoy the beauty of God’s earth.

Many thanks to Sarah Sundin for posting events of this day in WW II.   If interested in the war, check out her blog http://www.sarahsundin.com/today-in-world-war-ii-history-march-25-1940-1945 and her two series of books about pilots and nurses of the War.

Springtime---time for new birth

With the new season, I'm turning over a new leaf and am resurrecting my blog---FOR REAL---this time. If you have checked in anytime in the past 3 ½ years, I apologize for disappearing. After trying to spread myself too thin, I made a decision to focus on finishing the manuscript for my book before I tried to consistently post to a blog and not do either well. My book is at a place that I feel confident in trying to find a publisher, so I’m back. 

    My 1^st post has to congratulate my 2^nd alma mater on the terrific game against the Jayhawks. A long anticipated match-up against the Hawks who didn’t want to compete against the Shocks was so exciting and the outcome was PERFECT.   No matter which university a Kansan was supporting, the game could not help but make us all proud.

    

On a note more in line with the topic of this blog---a reminder that 70 years + 1 month ago the flag was raised on Mt. Suribachi on the island of Iwo Jima. . .”would be the first Japanese homeland soil to be captured by the Americans, and it was a matter of honor for the Japanese to prevent its capture.^[5] Tactically, the top of Suribachi is one of the most important locations on the island. From that vantage point, the Japanese defenders were able to spot artillery accurately onto the Americans – particularly the landing beaches.” (wikipedia.org)

Iwo Jima was the only Marine battle where the American casualties, 26,000, exceeded the Japanese -- most of the 22,000 defending the island. The 6,800 American servicemen killed doubled the deaths of the Twin-Towers of 9/11. (www.military.com/NewContent/0,13190,NI_Iwo_Jima2,00.html)

Looking at a photo of the peaceful island today,  I am in awe that our troops were ever able to raise a flag on that mountain. It is also a testament to the valor of our soldiers who paid an enormous sacrifice  (American casualties were one third of all Marine Corps casualties in the war.)(www.military.com/NewContent])        for such a small piece of land, only 4 miles long and les than 2 miles wide in places,  which was tactically and psychologically so important.

Seventy years ago this THURSDAY, the 26^th of March, let's all remember the price that was paid to preserve the freedom that we so often take for granted.

Uncle Willie and the Merchant Marines

Uncle Willie and Aunt Anna have also found a way to sneak into the book I am writing. Amazing how my muse or the spirits of so many people seem to be telling me what needs to be in the story. Last evening I finally visited with my cousin, Duane, about his dad’s military service during WWII, and I was surprised with what I learned, not only about Willie, but about a branch of the military that I had never heard much about. I always thought that he had served in the Navy, but talking with Duane, I learned that Willie was a Mariner, serving in the Merchant Marines.

What is the Merchant Marine? 
The Merchant Marine is the fleet of ships which carries imports and exports during peacetime and becomes a naval auxiliary during wartime to deliver troops and war materiel. According to the Merchant Marine Act of 1936: "It is necessary for the national defense... that the United States shall have a merchant marine of the best equipped and most suitable types of vessels sufficient to carry the greater portion of its commerce and serve as a naval or military auxiliary in time of war or national emergency..." During World War II the fleet was in effect nationalized, that is, the U.S. Government controlled the cargo and the destinations, contracted with private companies to operate the ships, put guns and Navy personnel (Armed Guard) on board. The Government trained the men to operate the ships and assist in manning the guns through the U.S. Maritime Service.

What do you call people who are in the Merchant Marine? 
Mariners. Seamen. Seafarers. Sailors. Never marines! Mariners is the preferred designation, just like the Seattle professional baseball team. The term Merchant Marines is incorrect, but sometimes used by some old time mariners.           http://www.usmm.org/faq.html

This branch also has a military academy located in Kings Point, N.Y. such as the Army’s academy at West Point and the Navy’s at Annapolis and so on. 

When I first heard “Merchant Marine,” I mistakenly thought the men in this branch would probably be in little danger during the War, but talking to Duane, and researching more myself, I realized how wrong I was.

One fact about Willie for this entry:  Willie served as a gunnery officer on an oil tanker for almost 3 years from ’43- ’46. During that time, he crossed the Panama Canal 38 times on fuel runs from Cuba.

.Because one of my sons-in-law is from Panama, I have been fortunate enough to visit Panama and the Canal several times. This country and area are absolutely beautiful and the Canal is AMAZING. However, because of the humidity---Thank God for air conditioning!!!  Of course, there was no such wonderful invention during WW II. Life on a tanker had to be horribly hot. In addition, the aviation fuel was destined for some of the most treacherous places in the South Pacific.  Ports of call were the names of some of the most vicious battles of the war: Guadalcanal, Saipan, Formosa, and all the way to Australia. Because of the explosive nature of the fuel the tanker carried, it was never part of a convoy---always a lone duck on the huge ocean occupied by innumerable Japanese ships and planes pervading the air---an unbelievably  perilous situation. 

In the next few blogs, I will share more about the experiences of my uncle Willie during WW II.

Relieving Stress

When I’ve had an especially stressful  day, relaxing in a nice warm bath is the most wonderful way to ease my mind and wash away worries and put problems aside, for at least a little while. No matter what has happened with students or other concerns in my life, I doubt that I will ever experience the stress the pilots of WW II faced during each mission.

Not only did they have to fly for hours in formations so close that their wing tips almost touched, they had to accurately drop their payload while flying through skies black with gun powder from exploding shrapnel. In addition, in the back of their minds was always the knowlege that the lives of their twelve or more crewmen were in their hands. Even after a succesful bomb run, the return flight of the seven and eight hour missions could be extremely dangerous, as the pilots were often nursing badly wounded birds back to base. 

Unfortunately, Uncle Ben and other pilots stationed in sunny Italy had only freezing showers in which to relax and wash away stress. For that reason, Ben had an aversion to showers. Next to God, Margie, and country, playing cards was probably his greatest love. Not until fellow crewmen refused to play any more cards with him that Ben showered after a 29 day stint avoiding it.  His mother, my Grandma Anna would have been appalled.

That seems so ironic to me because this uncle always seemed the epitome of the gentleman But, I don’t blame him. I can’t think of many things less relaxing than taking a shower in icy cold mountain water, especially when it is cold outside. Just another reason to appreciate all that the Vets did for us, and to thank God daily for the conveniences that are so easy for us to take for granted, like bathroom facilities and warm water.

Wrong Perceptions

     Amazing how the media colors our thoughts and perceptions, and we presume we know something only to learn that we are completely wrong. In any movies I‘ve seen about WW II, even old ones, the pilots lived in barracks, not fancy, but at least offering a little protection. Reading the little details we have about Uncle Ben’s life while stationed in Italy, that “knowledge” was blown to bits.

                          Uncle Ben's Crew 
            Ben is on first row-- 2nd from the right.

     I had contacted my cousin Bob Wetta for information about Ben, his dad. He sent an interview his son, Brian, had conducted with his Grandpa Ben about his service during the war. The information was quite enlightening about life for the pilots while on the ground. Seems they did not live in barracks at all, but four men to 16 X 16 tents with no conveniences. Suddenly a totally new picture is playing in my head, much similar to to the TV show Mash, and the living quarters of Hawkeye and B.J., cramped, chaotic and completely void of any privacy.
 In in the small compound of Mash, the showers were close at hand, while at the airbase at Foggia, Ben had to cover the distance of a football field to take a cold shower. Even though Italy may be in a more temperate region, the temperatures can drop below freezing during the winter, and snow is common. Taking a shower in freezing cold water was not a luxury to anticipate. The men would shave in their tent, warming water over in a tin can over a candle. Learning more about the deprivations my uncle suffered, makes me admire him and the other pilots even more.

     It also reinforces the precept that we always have more to learn, and never to make rash judgments. Things are not always the way we have learned or perceived them to be. I had occasionally visited w/ our new neighbors across the street, but was recently dismayed that their yard was overgrown and the place was looking shabby. I prayed they were not going to neglect their property, and we would have to look at it every time we walked out the door.  Last week, I saw the pre-teen daughters coming home from school, and they stopped to visit. My face was red, and my spirit humbled when I learned their mother had a massive brain infection suddenly erupt before Easter. She had undergone surgery and had been in intensive care in a hospital in Wichita (60 miles away) for two weeks---will be in rehab at least two more weeks. And I was concerned about them being poor neighbors!!! What did Jesus say about removing the plank from your own eye before worrying about the speck in your neighbor’s!  When will I ever learn?