I heard on the news it was the anniversary of the Invasion of Normandy by our soldiers -- D-Day -- which pretty much ended the German part of WW II. Japan took a while and a couple of really big bombs. Those were some brave guys and what a sacrifice they made on D-Day. But they weren't the only people that sacrificed. World War II was fought by us all. I was about 6 when it started and about 10 when it ended -- so my view was from the eyes of a little boy growing up.
After Roosevelt's startling radio announcement on that Sunday morning -- December 7, 1941 -- Japan had bombed Pearl Harbor and we were suddenly in a war -- Uncle Ned was 18 and immediately enlisted in the army. We kept up by way of V-Mail letters from him -- copied and censored with blacked out lines -- but we all gathered around when one arrived. It was an event. He went from training to North Africa and then to the Anzio beachead in Italy. He came home after the war. His body was unscathed but his memory was not. I am sure he relived the war more that we will ever know.
However, there were lots of guys who were not qualified to go into the army (or navy etc.) Maybe they were too old or had special skills needed back home. My Dad (Uncle Ned's brother) was one of those guys. He tried to enlist but was rejected because he had a defense job at Allison Engineering in Indianapolis. They made big airplane engines. He was on the night shift -- working from midnight til 8 am -- seven days a week. We had to be quiet while he slept in the daytime. He and several other men drove to work every evening in a car that that could not be replaced on tires that could not be replaced with gas that was rationed.
I really remember the rationing. Each family had a book with stamps to be used for food -- especially sugar and coffee that were rationed. There were no candy bars or bubble gum. There was no Christmas candy or fudge. But we all knew it was for a good cause. I must admit that the black market was live and well. We got 5 pounds of sugar out of some guy's trunk one night and used it to make some fudge that evening. That was really special. I recall there was NO anti war protesting that I remember. Everyone was behind the war effort. No one would dare speak out against the war. We were all patriots. The boys learned to draw pictures of "TOJO" -- who ever that was -- not very complimentary -- with short hair and big teeth and slanted eyes. That was our little propaganda contribution. And Hitler was called the "one armed paper hanger!" -- referring to his "Hiel Hitler" salute. I didn't understand -- but laughed about it anyway. We mimicked the salute and did a Bronx cheer as we spit out the noise.
My grandpa was a neighborhood Civil Defense leader and had a hat and flashlight. We had to practice closing our curtains and turning off all the lights so enemy airplanes could not see us. Fortunately, there were never any enemy planes but we didn't know that and we were ready.
Each of the many homes with someone who was serving placed a flag in the window. We had one for Uncle Ned. If the loved one was still alive, the star was blue but the gold stars were displayed for those who would not be coming home. Some homes had two or three stars on their little flag. There were far to many gold stars in the neighborhood. We passed those homes with reverence.
It all seems like a dream now. It is unbelievable that over night we made jeeps and trucks and airplanes and ships, instead of cars. And we gave up our gas and tires for the war. We lived on rationed food for four years. The radio gave us news reports on the war. But we could get war news by going downtown to the local newspaper (Journal-Review) and checking on their front window where they would tape up bulletins for the public to read.
Yes the government did some questionable things. Japanese Americans were gathered up in California and sent away to internment camps to get them away from the west coast. The governmen thought there might be Japanese spies helping them bomb California. There was plenty of food and shelter in these camps -- but they were confined somewhere in the boon docks, and couldn't go home for many months. The past is 20/20 and that was probably wrong -- but we were scared. And who knows what that confining might have salvaged. They were eventually compensated for their confinement. Japanese Americans later proved themselves by enlisting in the army and fighting bravely for their country.
And in recent years, there has been a lot of talk about the necessity of dropping such a devestating bomb twice on the two Japanese cities -- destroying them completely and killing and maiming hundreds of citizens. Well - this old guy thinks it was a necessary act -- saving the lives of hundreds or thousands of American lives and as many or more Japanese. After Germany surrendered -- Japan would not give up. Those A-bombs were necessary -- nuff said.
Uncle Ned left as a boy but came home from the war a full-grown man. He and thousands of other men were sent home after fighting a terrible war and winning a great victory. Thousands of men did not come home. I tried to stay up to see Uncle Ned's return but it was late and I fell asleep. I was shaken awake and opened my eyes to see this big smile on Uncle Ned's face. I cried and wrapped my arms around his big healthy body. He still had on his uniform with medals and a patch that attracted my attention. When I asked him about it -- he said "That's my Ruptured Duck". I will always remember that night. It was a glorious night for the family.
Darlington, Indiana had a movie theater and the side of the building was solid bricks. The owner's son -- John Marshall -- climbed up on a ladder and painted in huge white letters "VJ DAY AUG 14 1945" -- That message remained for decades. No one wished to paint over it.
Yes the greatest war ever fought was over and we won and the world was happy once again. Both Germany and Japan came out pretty well, I think. They are both our buddies now. But I can't forget. It was a war we all sacrificed and fought in own way. Even little boys fought the war.
That's it from the heart of Olaf Hart
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