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WW II Memories
By Kris Fresonke
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Charles P. Berka
How a young seaman "stopped" Jack Dempsey.
"As a 19-year-old seaman in the U.S. Coast Guard, I was standing guard duty at the exit gate at the Manhattan Beach Training Station in Brooklyn. My orders were short and specific. Allow any vehicle already on base to leave, but allow no vehicle, none whatsoever, to enter. I was all decked out with the symbols of authority—armband, web belt, nightstick, and canvas leggings. Feeling very much in charge, I walked my post in my best military manner.
"A sedan with U.S. government license plates drove up. I wouldn't open the gate.
"The back door of the car opened. My mouth dropped open ... the officer was Jack Dempsey, the heavyweight champion boxer and Coast Guard commander. He asked what the problem was. I looked him in the eye and answered, 'Sir, my orders are to let no vehicle enter at this gate. You'll have to go down to the entrance gate.'
"Dempsey took it in good humor. He smiled tolerantly and said he would do just that. As he turned to leave he said, 'You're doing a good job, son. Keep it up.'"
Carrol C. Lowe
A reunion between father and son.
"My brother, an Army private, was stationed near Munich. Our father, an army chaplain, was stationed at Camp Chicago near Rheims.
"My brother secured a pass to visit Dad. He traveled by plane and truck and arrived late at night in Camp Chicago. He found an empty bunk and bedded down.
"The next morning he headed for the chaplain's tent. He waited his turn in line and was waiting to greet his father in his friendliest manner. After the exchange of salutes my father asked, 'What seems to be the problem, soldier?' My brother answered, 'I don't believe you know me, Dad.' Uniforms make everyone look alike. And my brother had grown a few inches and gained few pounds since they last saw each other!"
William H. Morris
An African-American aviation engineer serving in a segregated unit proudly recalls when Tuskegee Airmen visited his base in Italy.
"President Roosevelt reviewed our troops at Jefferson Barracks in 1943. I was most thrilled! …After basic training, we were stationed in Foggia, Italy.
"We were proud. Oh, we were proud. When the 99th buzzed our field, it was such a feeling for us, to have airmen of our own coming over.
"I was proud to serve my country."
William Kiessel
A letter home in November 1943.
"Dear Uncle Freddy,
"This letter is for your reading only; or others at your discretion, but on no conditions my Mother.
"We were the first Americans to hit Europe. I rode in an assault boat, half filled with ammunition. Planes were under bombing and strafing us, and the Jerries on the beach were sitting there waiting for us, throwing everything under the sun at us. It was rough, plenty rough right from the beginning.
"I've been bombed, strafed, shelled, chased by tanks, sniped at, machine-gunned, and everything imaginable and some not. I got knocked about, bruised and scraped, but never directly hit. The closest I came to getting killed, I guess, was having a man on other side of me killed, and I was completely picked up and tossed about 10 feet. You'd better say a little prayer for me."
Bob McConkey
A medical corpsman and his patient share a view of the Statue of Liberty.
"I was one of a hundred U.S. Army medical corpsmen assigned to duty aboard the HMS Queen Elizabeth. We took 15,000 American troops to Europe, and returned with 2,000 or 3,000 wounded every 19 days. On a trip back to the U.S., one of my patients was a multiple amputee. He had lost both legs in combat. As we approached New York harbor, I mentioned to him that we would soon be passing the Statue of Liberty. He remarked that it would be nice to see it. I picked him up and carried him on deck as we sailed past the Statue. It was a very emotional moment for both of us."
Bill McGinley
A flier is shot down and saved by the Resistance in Belgium.
"I served in World War II with the 8th Air Force. I was a tail gunner on a B-24 and our plane was shot down January 29, 1944, over Waterloo, Belgium. I parachuted out and that evening I was picked up by a member of the Belgium Underground. I stayed with several families, hiding me from the Germans. September 16, I was taken to Paris, then on to London where I sent my parents a telegram. That was a miracle for them, because they had received telegrams saying I was MIA, and then killed in action."
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