Dem
47
GOP
53
Today, we hear from C.J. in Burke, VA:
One of the best gifts my 7 year old daughter gave me back in December 1991 was a letter to my grandfather in Kansas (her great-grandfather) asking what he was doing when Pearl Harbor was bombed. She also mentioned she was in a play. Her missive resulted in a handwritten letter from my grandfather, dated January 6, 1992, about what he did in World War II. Family lore is that he was the oldest man drafted by his draft board:
Now, Lilabet, before being sidetracked by the foregoing dissertation about names, it was, and now is, my intention to answer your question about where I was while first learning about the Pearl Harbor bombing. As a preface to the answer, you must remember that television had not yet been produced, satellites were unheard of and, by today's standards, electronic communication was in the dark ages. As a consequence, people spent much more of their free time out-of-doors. Now, just bear with me, Lilabet, you will have your answer in due time, but I am sure that a budding actress will understand that such an infamous event deserves a certain amount of drama in the telling. So, let us continue with the narrative of events concerning your great-grandparents Vance and Margarete Briley on Sunday, 7 December 1941. After breakfast, some household chores, and lunch we decided to take a drive, which was not uncommon then. Our first destination was a Greek candy and ice cream parlor called the Chocolate Shop which was somewhat famous for its home-made candy, especially a black walnut divinity of which both Margarete and I were fond. During the drive from our house to the candy store (distance about 3 miles), I turned on the car radio but in a moment or so the program was preempted for an announcement that Pearl had been bombed. It was then about 3 p.m. our time. So, there you have it Lilabet, time, place and circumstance. I might add that we continued on to the Chocolate Shop, purchased the candy, returned home and listened to the news until bedtime. Your grandmother Gail, then 5, was quite unaware of the significance of the news but she and your great-great-grandmother Noble, who was living with us at the time, enjoyed the candy.
Pearl Harbor affected our lives profoundly. First came conscription (after declarations of war with Japan and Germany and which I will deal with in more detail later), rationing of most essentials, wage and price controls, etc. Due to rationing of gasoline it became mandatory that we sell our house and move closer to school and public transportation. At the time, 1942, I had been working at the newspaper for 16 years. Soon, newsprint was rationed which drastically reduced the number of pages and resulted in wholesale layoffs, me included. After 6 weeks of retraining as a riveter, I obtained a night job at North American Aviation assembling B-25s. Wage about 1/3 of that at the newspaper. In 1943 I was called back to the newspaper. (I should point out here that, early on, I, like all able-bodied males between age 18 to 45, were registered for the draft and classified according to statue such as health, single, married, dependents, students and civilian job importance). I was classified 3A, because of marital status and job importance, had I chosen to take advantage of the latter exemption.
A debate was ongoing in Congress about the call-up of fathers, and I felt strongly that being a father was not a creditable reason for exemption and that his responsibility for risking life and limb in the war was no less than that of an unmarried man. I wrote letters expressing that opinion, sent them to Senators [Arthur] Capper and [Clyde M.] Read [both R-KS], along with the recommendation that they vote for legislation approving the drafting of fathers which was adopted. Whether or not my letters played any part in the matter is open to question but as a consequence of the legislation, I was immediately moved into the IA classification which left only the newspaper job priority exemption as a tool to escape military service. Since there were unemployed printers available to fill any vacancy at the newspaper, I refused to take advantage of the job priority exemption and received a notice to appear for induction shortly thereafter.
My choice for service was the Navy, and in January of 1944, I arrived at the Farragut Training Station, which had been carved out of a wilderness in northern Idaho. After 16 weeks of indoctrination, I was sent to the University of Minnesota to be trained as an electrician. With 12 weeks of exposure to the field of electronics, I moved on to Solomons, Maryland, on Chesapeake Bay, where the discovery was made that I had been assigned to the naval amphibious branch, which included all of the beach landing and smaller supply craft. My stay there lasted only long enough to be able to identify by sight the variety of vessels in this branch, on any one of which I might be stationed (a question not to be answered, until the elapse of 2 months; time and about 4,500 miles of travel by bus, rail and sea to the final destination, Southampton, on the east coast of England). There I finally went aboard LST 344 (landing ship tank). The crew of 123 were mostly young, late teens and early 20's, but already battle-tested veterans having participated in the North African and Italian campaigns, as well as the initial landings on the Normandy beaches in June of 1944.
Due to stress or some illness their only electrician, who had shared these campaigns with them, was being replaced by a 36-year-old Boy Scout fresh from the States with no real experience as either a sailor or an electrician. To say that my situation verged on the untenable is an understatement. This was the first LST I had been aboard. I had no idea of how much electrical equipment there was to be operated and maintained, or the locations thereof. Obviously, the crew was less-than-friendly, and yet their cooperation was vital if my mission was to succeed. It was now August and the ship was engaged in transporting troops and supplies to the beaches and returning POWs to England. At the moment of my arrival, 344 was anchored off-shore awaiting its turn to be called in to port at Southampton to take on cargo for the beaches.
I knew that if there was to be any rapport with the crew, the effort had to be initiated before weighing anchor, which would require a team of several, including an electrician, who didn't know at that time where the generators were located. So, I just stood up in the mess room during dinner, got the attention of that part of the crew not on watch at the time, then proceeded to express my understanding and admiration for their courage as well as the natural hostility that might have arisen toward the raw recruit chosen to replace a mate for whom they no doubt had respect, affection and with whom they had shared the most bloody and difficult part of the war. I then, very frankly, acknowledged my predicament and called for any support they cared to give in order to make the system work for the good of all. To my surprise, there was a standing ovation, handshakes all around, offers of help and the nickname "Pop" was born. From that moment, I became a member of "ship's company," in spirit as well as fact. As the oldest member, I became a father figure and people came to me for advice and problems that they were reluctant to discuss with their peers. While I could not adequately fill the void brought about by the loss of a shipmate. it is my conviction that a new and useful ingredient was added.
We continued to supply and reinforce our land forces from the beach-heads until early December 1944, when the deepwater French ports were liberated and larger cargo ships were able to off-load much closer to the allied offensive which had advanced well into Germany. As a consequence, phaseout of the amphibious fleet from the European theater began in January 1945. In the meantime, I had been promoted to EM3/C and transferred to LST 292, on which I made the 22-day voyage to the Brooklyn naval shipyard where the ship went into drydock to be refitted for service in the Pacific. Germany had surrendered during our voyage back to the States, but war was still waging against the Japanese and we expected to be sent there as soon as the 292 was ready. However, before that happened the Japanese surrendered and I celebrated that event along with thousands of others in Times Square at 42nd and Broadway, New York City.
When the 292 came out of drydock in July we sailed her down to Jacksonville, Florida, and far up the St. John's River, which had been selected as one of the graveyards for thousands of unneeded vessels. The crew of the 292 remained intact, as did those of hundreds of other craft in the river, until demobilization (which was based on length of time served) reached our graveyard in August 1945. But it not until November that I left the ship, went by train to Norman, Oklahoma, and was discharged there that same month. With a ticket to Kansas City and $15 in mustering-out pay. I took the first available train for home. There was no tickertape welcome, no flag waving or any yellow ribbons in evidence. Quite to the contrary, before leaving the railroad station I went to the restroom only to discover after leaving the stall that someone had stolen my peacoat which I had left with a seabag just outside. So much for man's humanity to man. Not knowing just what my arrival schedule might be, there was no one at the station to meet me so I spent half the $15 to taxi home. After 2 weeks of winding down and reacquainting with the family I was back at work. So ends the saga of Vance L. Bailey's participation in World War II.
To the reader who has reached this point I extend congratulations for your perseverance.
As a postscript to all the foregoing I would like to add a few remarks:
- For better or worse, I want to thank you, Lilabet, for furnishing me with a reason to commit to paper some of the many memories which have been rattling about in my head for half a Century. Now if your children should ask what Great-great-grandfather did during WW II, you can tell them, or if this paper is preserved, they may read the tale. I leave you with this admonition: Before asking a question, consider the consequence of an answer which may come as a simple "yes " or "no" or, as in this case, something akin to a book. I know that you cannot read or perhaps understand all that I have written, which is why it is my hope that the writing be preserved until you reach the age of understanding it all.
- In the past it has been my customs, when writing letters, to sit in a rocker with a board across the arms and prepare a rough draft such as the one you have before you. afterward I tried to smooth sentence structure and make connections at the typewriter which is very painful to my back and neck even when the letters are short. This time the job is just more than I can handle in the usual way so what you see is what you get. Hope you all are fully rested and back to normal after the trip.
Happy New year!
Gramps
Thanks, C.J.!
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