Dapper Don
"The Reluctant Civilian"
When we were finally put into drydock, we began working feviourisly to get our ship back in the fight. All of us knew that our involvement in Okinawa was over. What we also knew was the next fight was going to be the worst in history. We were going to attack and take the Japanese homeland itself. It was with a somber enthusiasm that we made our repairs because we knew it was also going to be the bloodiest battle in recorded history. We would find ourselves not only fighting the Japanese armed forces but the civilian populace as well. By this time we were finally beginning to understand the Japanese culture and we knew every living Japanese soul would be bearing arms. The casualties being estimated for the Allies was expected to be in the hundreds of thousands. Japanese casualties were expected to be in the millions.
One saving grace for us were the people on the island we were on. They were the nicest people I ever ran into. By the time we got there, the rest of the fleet had pulled out so we were the only Americans around. That made for some fine times for the boys but the next day we would be back busting our butts getting our ship ready to go to battle and possibly get our hind ends beat. We were there about 5 weeks working 10- 16 hour days and being catered to every night, when the word came down that Ole Harry gave the order to drop a couple of experimental bombs. The word came over our fox radio which was broadcast daily on schedule that the Japanese wanted to surrender.The war was over. Just like that. No fanfair, no hurrahs, it was just over. Later, we heard that we had dropped a couple of new experimental bombs (Atomic) on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. One bomb for eack city and both cities were obliterated. I remember thinking:"MY God, what have we done? What have we started?" Those questions were answered in time. I still fear today for the generations of tomorrow. I had a big empty spot in the pit of my stomach. It was like someone had let the air outta me and I just thought "What now?"
It took us four more weeks to complete repairs and we were off, bound for Leyte. They were allready processing people back to the states.They did it on a point system. Me? I had accumulated enough points to get 3 of us out, so when we got to Leyte, I was pretty much ready to go. They put me on a plane to Pearl Harbor and off I went after an almost tearful goodby to my crew and that monster of a dog and that little tug. It actually hurt worse than when I left the Battlewagon before the Pearl Harbor attack. I was going "HOME". I was headed back to the world. I wasn't in Pearl long when I found myself on another old rust bucket heading stateside. It was all very unsettling for me and most people I talked to. Here we, for years had been working at a fevirous pitch to win the war, and then at the stroke of a pen, we were going home. It was at this point years later that I could really sypathize with the Vietnam veteran. One day, you're in the jungle fighting a war and the next day, you're home having dinner with the folks. It was a time of confusion and jubilation, if that makes any sense.
Once back at Treasure Island I was given another draft of troops and sent to Kansas City where I was paid off and discharged. I grabbed the first flight to Boston and I was off going home to be with my family. I remember how excited I was to this day. I settled down for the flight. We started our taxi down the runway picking up speed rapidly. I felt the moment the tires lifted off and thought: here we go, nothing can stop me now. It was right around that moment that the right engine froze up and everything started shaking, rattling and rolling. I remember thinking: Lord,,,No! All I've been through and I'm going to wind up spread all over some field. But someone was watching out for us because we had one hell of a pilot. He raised the wing with the dead engine, circled back around and put her down as pretty as you please. Personnally, I had a death grip on the seat armrests. I very slowly let go and we all disembarked. We were all in a stupor when they sent us to another plane. Still in a daze, we marched on board and took a seat. I didn't realize what was going on until I heard the engine start-up and we started down the runway. That incident caused me the damdest phobia about flying. Can't get me on one now.
When we got to Boston, it had been so long since I'd seen her I didn't know who to look for but that posed no problem --because I heard my name screamed out and by the time I turned around -- here came that little bundle of fluff. She took a flying leap at me and if I hadn't dropped everything I was holding, I believe that little 90 pounds of doll would have put me flat on my back. Now, you talk about a homecoming. I was in heaven until she told me that she wanted me to meet her father. You have got to remember that I had never met the man. You might say, there was a bit of bad blood between us. After we finally got our differences settled, we became quite close but it wasn't smooth sailing for awhile. Ya see, it was still stuck in his craw that I had "Stolen" his favorite. He kept throwing it up to Mom all the time, taking a cheap shot from time to time. Well, I was starting to have a belly full of it but I bit my tongue, after all, I was staying in his home. One day he for no apparent reason piped up and threw one of his sarcastic comments at Mom and she told Him: "Why don't you talk to the Irishman about that?" A day or so later he did just that. Now you have to remember we were in Little Italy and John was a well respected, well thought of man. Me? I was a mongrol IrishIndian "But", I had myself a belly full and enough was enough. Be damned where I was. I took off my overcoat, hung it over a door and walked back over to Pop. He asked me what I thought I was doing. I responded by saying I'm not thinking about what I'm doing, I know exactly what I'm going to do. I replied: I'm going to stomp a mud hole in your ass so we can put an end to this foolishness. Your daughter will always be your daughter but she is my wife now and she is as happy as a hog in fresh slop. As long as she is with me, she will always be happy so get over it OR defend yourself cause this is probably gonna hurt a little bit. Ever since that moment me and Pop were the best of friends. Turns out he was a lover not a fighter. From that point on there wasn't anything he wouldn't do for us and his American son.
It seems ole Pop knew everybody in Little Italy and was often referred to as the Mayor of the Northend. There wasn't anything anyone of them wouldn't do for him. He was the Commander of the local VFW post. They had a dance there one evening where he introduced him to a close personal friend of his who was at the time running for a seat in the Congress. John Fitzgerald Kennedy. Now I have to say he was one of the easiest men to talk to that I had ever run across and quite the charmer. We sat and spoke of over a variety of subjects for over an hour. I liked him immediately and that was damn rare for me. He was also a damn fine looking man and the ladies were all swooning and wanting to dance with him. Pop always said that man would be president some day. It's sad that Pop never lived to see it. Mr. Kennedy corresponded with Pop up until he died. No one ever found out what happened to all those letter's that he had received from Mr Kennedy. It was a big mystery to everyone except his wife "Carrie". After John passed on, she was cleaning up and just threw all those letters away. To her, they were just letters. She had no concept of the possible historical value.
You'd think or rather I thought, I'd be a happy man to be free from the Navy and on my own. WRONG. FIRST, you have to remember that in those days there was only one rank of chief. These days, you have 3: Chief, Senior Chief and finally Master Chief. So, in my days being a chief carried with it a huge portion of respect along with the responsibility. In the Navy, I was looked up to, respected, counted upon and needed. And I didn't have to be told I was good at what I did. I could work on anything mechanical and when it came to leading men, It seemed to turn out that I was a natural at it. From the time I said goodbye to the skipper and crew of that little tug boat, I had an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach. In the snap of a finger, I went from being the Chief to being one of hundreds of thousands of unemployed vets. I checked out a few job offers, if you could call them that. I had a depression coming on me that I hadn't realized yet. My one saving grace in this period was my new mother in law. we hit it off great and it wasn't long that I fell in love with that old woman. It was like I had finally found the kind of mother I always wanted to have. I could get away with anything with her. Sometimes I'd sneak up on her grab her up, spin her around and give her a big smooch on the cheek. She'd be bouncing around the kitchen like a giddy school girl. Once, ole John saw what I did so he tried the same thing and got wacked a good one with her telling him not to be doing nasty things to her. I kind of felt sorry for John. When he smoked a cigarette, he had to sit beside a window and blow the smoke outside. Then in I'd walk, sit down at the dinner table, fire up a cigarette and nothing was ever said. No one was allowed to use her oven. In I'd walk, make me up a soup and she'd come behind me and do a quick clean-up.
I'd leave in the morning for the job hunt and end up with her. She really nursed me through these depressive times. One day, we were alone in the kitchen. I was waiting for some of her chicken soup. Out of the clear, she stopped what she was was doing, looked at me and said: You know you are not a very happy man, why don't you go do what you know want to do? Looking back, I guess I was waiting for someone to suggest it. So after being a free man for 80 days, I found myself standing outside the recruiting office. After standing for a spell, I said what the hell and sauntered in. As soon as I was inside, I was being given the VIP treatment. Not because they knew me but rather it was because so many men had gotten out, the service was really hurting for bodies. A Chief took care of my paperwork personally and turned it over to the Commanding Officer. He took a look at everything and told me everything was in order. Then he said to me to take the next nine days off and come back in and he would swear me in. In those days, you had 90 days from the end of active servive to re-enlist and not lose your rate. When I got home that night I cornered sweety and told her "Guess what? The woman always had a tongue on her and she whipped it out on me and very smartassedly spit out: You shipped, anything else knew? I knew she wasn't mad by her tone and I asked her You don't mind? She looked at me, put her hands on my face and said No, not if that's what you wnat. I married you as a sailor and have been perfectly satisfied as a Navy wife. I gotta brag here a little and say for the next 20 some years, she was the epitamy of a true Navy Wife. Gotta say, it was a very tender moment for me. But I also gotta say that she has supported me in anything I wanted to do for our (so far) 58 years together. She has always been a remarkable women who never ceases to amaze me. Now that, buddy, is LOVE. Being in heat can't last that long..... A week later, I was sworn in and I was home. The uniform, the hat, the smell, I WAS HOME.
© 1997 ervd@hotmail.com
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