World War II ah, yes, I remember it well. I can easily recall the feeling of foreboding, in 1939, when the US passed the bill authorizing the Selective Service (I felt the same stirring of emotion when I read in this yer's July issue of Family Crcle that the US was again discussing the possibility of a draft for all men and women eighteen years of age to 44.)
Detroit was gearing up as the Arsenal of Democracy and in 1940 I was in the midst of it. Fresh from the University of Michigan, I was one of the few women from my class to enter the workplace. As Secretary to the Chief Odnance Engineer of the 20mm. Oerlikon Anti-Aircraft Gun, I was right in the middle of this secret government work.
On that fateful Sunday, December 7th, 1941, my husband and I were driving to Ann Arbor to see his parents. We heard the news of the attack on Pearl Harbor on the car radio and were dumbstruck. How could this have happened to the USA - an unprovoked attack that destroyed much of our naval fleet? We listened in disbelief, as the dreadful words entered our consciousness.
We knew that war was brewing; but we thought that the U.S. would be able to choose the time and place to enter the fray. Actually, it never had occurred to us that we would be so vulnerable - and that the initial cost would be so high.
In one Sunday morning's time, our whole world was turned topsy-turvy. From that moment on, every thing in our lives changed. The Draft was nipping at the heels of all the young men; and their women dreaded going to the mail box to receive that letter of "Greetings" from the government.
I can well understand how the military wives of today are constantly tortured in their minds. I know their anguish about the welfare of their men, as they struggle to maintain the daily life of themselves and their children.
Five weeks after my first child was born, my husband was inducted into the U.S. Air Force at Fort Sheridan in Chicago.
The $50.00 per month allowance I received as a service man's wife, could not pay my bills. The rent on the house we were living in was $50.00 per month. And, that did not include the cost of utilities - or any other living expenses.
I did, as so many other young mothers were forced to do, moved in with my parents. In my case, this was not easy on grandma and grandpa. I, their only child, was born when they were in their 40's; and, by this time, they had put in a full lifetime of hard work and were ready to retire.
But, we were a nation united in spirit and resolve, and there was very little grumbling. Almost all of the able-bodied men were in the service. I remember the old song: "They're either too young or too old - they're either too gray or too grassy green". It was a strange world without young men.
If you lived in an area where there were no military facilities, you found that almost all young males were gone.Since most of the military facilities were on the coasts or in the south, the north was devoid of any young men.Those women who could work outside the home went to work in the factories. Their lives were all forever changed, too.
Life was so different. We were faced with rationing - something new to us. There were ration stamps for gasoline, butter, cheese, fats, meat, and so many other items we had previously taken for granted.
Manufacturing of domestic items had practically stopped - no more new cars, appliances, furniture, rubber nipples for baby bottles, paper, metals of any types, safety pins, nylons . No more rubber for automobile tires; we had to have the tires recapped over and over.The list went on and on.
All the baby items, like baby buggies, play pens and other manufactured items were no longer being made. Every thing had to be bought second hand.
In those days we had cloth diapers for babies; and I can remember that large safety pins had to be hoarded, as you could not buy new ones.. Even after they became rusty and decrepit, we pressed them into service. I soon learned that these pins could be stored in soft bars of soap and could be made usable. Of course, they left big rusty marks on the diapers; but, at least, they served the purpose.
Rubber pants were no longer available, either. So, we knitted wool "soakers" to try to confine the problem. Soakers was a good name for them. they just soaked up the leakage until they were full, and then the major dripping would start over any person or surface that were in contact with them..
You could not buy new baby bottles, so my son's habit of tossing the empties over the side of the crib caused great concern as glass went shattering all over the floor. And, woe be onto you, if the baby chewed through the worn out rubber nipple, there were no replacements to be had.
The fact that shoes were rationed to two pairs per year was not a hardship for me, at all. I had no money to buy two pairs of shoes in one year!
Every household that had a member in the service displayed an emblem with a blue star in the front window. If the service person perished, you received an emblem with a gold star. Thus, The Gold Star Mothers.
My mother and I taught knitting at the Red Cross to make woolen socks and gloves and scarves, to keep the overseas soldiers warm. My mother who had learned to knit in Europe, taught me - and we taught all the Red Cross volunteers the same method. The only trouble was that the European style of knitting puts all the stitches on the needle backwards. But, this style of knitting allowed you to tuck both knitting needles under your arms, and all your fingers were free to fly like the wind. I wonder how many of today's knitters, who were taught by their mothers and grandmothers, are unwittingly putting all their stitches on backwards?
There were no cell phones or other modern methods of communication that we enjoy today. When my step-son was in Kuwait, during The Desert Storm in the 80's, we would fax each other whenever possible.
At the time of World War II. you depended upon the mail. You sent your letters to an A.P.O. address when your serviceman was overseas. All letters were censored, which often delayed their receipt.
Many messages were delivered to us by "wire" (telegrams), with a messenger ringing the doorbell to deliver the message to you. This was quite the fearsome moment when you saw the uniformed man approach your door, as this was the method usually used to deliver news of someone's death.
There were written reports in newspapers and magazines by War Correspondents to tell us the news from the battlegrounds. We did receive radio reports, but there were no graphic daily television programs to bring the war into our living rooms.
The movies had News Reels to show different events; and many movies were made to stir up patriotism - as well as to vilify the enemy. Many innocent people who had emigrated to the U.S. from countries with which we were now at war, were ostracized. All Japanese citizens on our west coast were put into Special Detention Camps. Many innocent people suffered from discrimination.
It was a "far-away" war, but our hearts were filled with constant worry. During the years between 1941 and 1945, our lives were changed forever.
V-E Day (Victory in Europe) and V-J Day (Victory in Japan) were occasions for unfettered joy. People all over the United States joined in the celebrations. I was fortunate enough to be at Fort Benning, Georgia, when V-J and the end of all hostilities was announced. You never saw any thing like it! Guards left their stations, and all personnel just took off from the base without leave. There was no army protocol left, even the guards took off and left their stations unmanned. Everyone just jumped into any car that was available for the jubilant ride to the nearby city of Columbus. Cars streamed into Columbus for unfettered celebrations., The jubilance went on all night long. I'll never forget it. I have always been grateful that I was there and part of an unforgettable night.
When we returned to the base at Fort Benning by dawn's early light, the gates were wide open and we all just sailed through the guard stations with no one to say: "Halt, Who Goes There?" Next morning, we all just resumed our duties. I was assistant general manager of the Fort Benning Guest House, at the time. I took the job because I got free room and board and was allowed to keep my infant son with me. My immediate boss had urged me to flee the base with the rest of the jubliant horde and promised to look aftr the baby,, so she was not the least bit upset that I had gone AWOL! All she wanted to hear, when I finally got out of my little army cot the next morning, was all the details of the celebration in Columbus, Georgia the night before!
Actually, there were very few acts of vandalism during the festivities, and very little crime I saw very little drunkenness. Every one celebrating there was just a part of an enormous victory party and happy to be part of the jubliant crowd. It is one night of my life that is firmly etched into my memory and that I will never forget!
