Someone last night asked me about my memories of WWII, after he found out how old I was. I still have vivid memories of the time.
December 7, 1941, I was nine, spending a wonderful weekend in Greencastle, Indiana, where my brother was attending DePauw University. I think it was Homecoming weekend. We attended a football game on Saturday, and then on Sunday, went to Chapel, and had lunch at the Delta Tau Delta house. The dining room there served the greatest Parker House rolls, I ate some, which I was not supposed to do, allergic to eggs, so I had the itchy eyes, and had stretched out on one of the large leather couches in the main room there.
I was laying there when the news came over the radio about the bombing at Pearl Harbor. There was an instant somberness in the room, it is difficult to explain. It was if much of the air had changed, all somber faces. I was too young to realize it all, but I knew from the atmosphere change all the changes in expressions, smiles all went to somber looks. I think all those young men knew that their lives had changed, in that instant. Many looked at each other with almost ashen faces, smiles became frowns, something drastic had happened in the world, life changing. Something I will never forget.
As the war progressed, we saved cans, grease, I became a Junior Commando at a local department store, collected some wild pods that grew, supposedly they could be woven into much needed fabric. War bond drives, bought stamps each week and put them into a book. Occasionally a neighbor would come home on leave, admired those uniforms. I think that is one reason I chose The Citadel to go to college, the military atmosphere.
We had a Stromberg-Carlson radio/phonograph which could record small records. I still have a pile of them. Many friends and neighbors would come to our house and made a record which they could send to their person in the service, and the Red Cross and the USO had phonographs which could play them. They also could record, and many brought them to our house to listen. Recording then, was nothing like it is today. A voice from "home" or to heard from a son or husband overseas was something special.
I remember food and gas rationing, shoe shortages, news on the radio, Walter Winchell and H. V. Kaltenbourne, Edward R. Murrow, voices bring the war news to us. The Newsreel at the movie brought us visual news of the war. We cheered invasions, were coerced into hating the enemy, the Japs and the Krauts, we applauded seeing the enemy get killed, that was alright to do.
We somehow learned that killing the enemy was a good thing, something to applaud and cheer when we saw scenes on the screen. We saw "atrocities" being committed by the enemy which made us hate them even more. I have looked back at that time, and wondered how and when they were able to accomplish all of the "brain washing" they were able to accomplish. Killing the enemy is a good thing.
VE dah and VJ Day I remember pretty clearly, at least the elation of the day, and then all the images we saw in Life and Look and the newspapers.
One vivid memory, my Dad, on that December day in 1941, shed tears and I think actually cried, which he never did, he had served in WWI, and knew what was ahead for all these young men. He knew that soon, he may have to see his son off, on a train, heading to war, as his father Caleb had done, when he went off to war.
