I am sure that my parents knew that my father would
eventually leave to fight in the war. I imagine that fact made every minute
they were together very precious. As I said in my last post, knowing my
parents, I bet they found time for a little fun. It was a busy time, yet
exciting against the back drop of World War II. I know I should include what
was happening to the United States at this time in this blog, but after
watching Ken Burn’s “The War” (which every baby boomer should watch), the big
picture is so overwhelming. I want to stay with one story. We pick up here in
the interview as my parents and Lynn and Red leave Alamogordo. I continue to be
amazed at the details my parents remember.
Dick: We brought Lynn back to Texarkana, and she got out at the bus station and rode the bus to Shreveport.
Nita: We had a little leave in Hot Springs before we went to Charleston. When we got there, we lived with Red and Lynn, and it was the only place we could find. It was upstairs over a chicken farm. We rode the train. We spent Christmas there in 1943. He (Dick) left Charleston, and went up east. Elise (Dick's sister) and her family were stationed there.
Dick: We went to New York City. While I was there I got on train and went back down there to Bambridge, Maryland. I guess I spend one night and then went back to New York City. Seymor Stutzel's, my navigator, family, lived in Brooklyn. The family had us over. Old Stutzel’s sister, she was older than most us. She lived all her life in Brooklyn; she'd never been over on Long Island. And Stutzel's mother and daddy came by to see him sometime. (As a child, I can remember Mr. Stutzel visiting our home in Hot Springs, and my sister and I giggling in the background at his Brooklyn accent; we had never heard anything like it.)
Nita: I didn't go to New York City with him. I got on a plane in Charleston to go back to Arkansas. I was going to go to Memphis, and Flo and Dub Jenkins (my mother’s best friend from high school) were going to meet me in Memphis. I was going to spend a few days with them and then ride the train home. I got to Atlanta, and they bumped me off the plane. So there I was. I didn't know anybody. So I sat and waited for awhile. Finally, I got up and I told them, "Listen, my husband had just gone overseas. I don't know anybody. And I need to get home." So they took me downtown to a hotel, and I spent the night, and then they got me a ticket on train to Memphis. I am sure I got bumped off the plane because the high military person needed my place. It was not unusual for civilians to be bumped off airplanes (not unlike flying today).
Dick: We picked up an airplane (a B-24 bomber) at Homestead on Long Island. We flew it from there to North Miami in Florida. We were there two or three days. We got our orders, but we didn't know where we were going; they just told us to take off. We flew down to Puerto Rico and turned and went to Trinidad. From what I remember, it was the best landing I ever made. I hit the ground and didn't even know it.
Nita: He was flying the “Nita-Lynn.” (Red and my father named their airplane after their wives, Nita and Lynn. In 1950, my sister received the name of my father’s bomber. She continues to wear the name with patriotic pride.)
Dick: We started flying the Nita-Lynn when we left Homestead in New York. Then we went to Belem which is just south of the Amazon. Then from there we went to a town called Bordelase, which is on the Atlantic Coast, in Brazil (I couldn’t find such a place on Google; I must have heard wrong). We left Bordelase, and flew to Dakar which was in French East Africa. I was tired by then and they wanted us to go on. I conned them into staying over in Dakar. While we were there, they said you have a day's rest, and tomorrow, somebody has gone down out in the Atlantic, and you are going on a search. So we went out there and looked for the people that went down. On that trip was when old Lefty, the radio operator . . . there was a Colt 45 hanging behind the pilot's cockpit and that crazy nut got to fooling with that thing and pulled the trigger a shot a hole in the side of the airplane. It scared the hell out of all of us. (If they only knew what was ahead of them.)
One other funny thing that happened. When we landed in Dakar, the natives there were at war. When we pulled up there, that radio operator said, "Good God, almighty, look at that Ubangi. There was one of them African American (I had to edit this word out) soldiers who had a fez that must have been that tall, and he must have been six and a half feet tall to begin with. And his damn old rifle had a bayonet on top. Hell, he looked like he was fifteen foot tall.
We left there and went to Tunis in Tunisia. To get there we had fly through a mountain pass. The first time we got up there, the damn thing was close and we had to make a 360 degree turn and finally got through there. You had to go through there to keep from getting in the clouds. If you get in the clouds and ice up, you'd be in trouble. Then when we hit the Mediterranean coast, we had to fly the coast line. It seemed like it took us forever. When we got to Tunis, we went down the runway, and the guy told us to turn left. Hell, it wasn't nothing but mud out there. "Through that mud?" we said, and he said, "Right through the mud." Tunis is in North Africa and Tunisia is on the Mediterranean. From there, we flew to our air base in Cerignola-Stornara,Italy. That’s where we made the bombing raids from.
And that's where we’ll stop the story for a while.
Dick: We brought Lynn back to Texarkana, and she got out at the bus station and rode the bus to Shreveport.
Nita: We had a little leave in Hot Springs before we went to Charleston. When we got there, we lived with Red and Lynn, and it was the only place we could find. It was upstairs over a chicken farm. We rode the train. We spent Christmas there in 1943. He (Dick) left Charleston, and went up east. Elise (Dick's sister) and her family were stationed there.
Dick: We went to New York City. While I was there I got on train and went back down there to Bambridge, Maryland. I guess I spend one night and then went back to New York City. Seymor Stutzel's, my navigator, family, lived in Brooklyn. The family had us over. Old Stutzel’s sister, she was older than most us. She lived all her life in Brooklyn; she'd never been over on Long Island. And Stutzel's mother and daddy came by to see him sometime. (As a child, I can remember Mr. Stutzel visiting our home in Hot Springs, and my sister and I giggling in the background at his Brooklyn accent; we had never heard anything like it.)
Nita: I didn't go to New York City with him. I got on a plane in Charleston to go back to Arkansas. I was going to go to Memphis, and Flo and Dub Jenkins (my mother’s best friend from high school) were going to meet me in Memphis. I was going to spend a few days with them and then ride the train home. I got to Atlanta, and they bumped me off the plane. So there I was. I didn't know anybody. So I sat and waited for awhile. Finally, I got up and I told them, "Listen, my husband had just gone overseas. I don't know anybody. And I need to get home." So they took me downtown to a hotel, and I spent the night, and then they got me a ticket on train to Memphis. I am sure I got bumped off the plane because the high military person needed my place. It was not unusual for civilians to be bumped off airplanes (not unlike flying today).
Dick: We picked up an airplane (a B-24 bomber) at Homestead on Long Island. We flew it from there to North Miami in Florida. We were there two or three days. We got our orders, but we didn't know where we were going; they just told us to take off. We flew down to Puerto Rico and turned and went to Trinidad. From what I remember, it was the best landing I ever made. I hit the ground and didn't even know it.
Nita: He was flying the “Nita-Lynn.” (Red and my father named their airplane after their wives, Nita and Lynn. In 1950, my sister received the name of my father’s bomber. She continues to wear the name with patriotic pride.)
Dick: We started flying the Nita-Lynn when we left Homestead in New York. Then we went to Belem which is just south of the Amazon. Then from there we went to a town called Bordelase, which is on the Atlantic Coast, in Brazil (I couldn’t find such a place on Google; I must have heard wrong). We left Bordelase, and flew to Dakar which was in French East Africa. I was tired by then and they wanted us to go on. I conned them into staying over in Dakar. While we were there, they said you have a day's rest, and tomorrow, somebody has gone down out in the Atlantic, and you are going on a search. So we went out there and looked for the people that went down. On that trip was when old Lefty, the radio operator . . . there was a Colt 45 hanging behind the pilot's cockpit and that crazy nut got to fooling with that thing and pulled the trigger a shot a hole in the side of the airplane. It scared the hell out of all of us. (If they only knew what was ahead of them.)
One other funny thing that happened. When we landed in Dakar, the natives there were at war. When we pulled up there, that radio operator said, "Good God, almighty, look at that Ubangi. There was one of them African American (I had to edit this word out) soldiers who had a fez that must have been that tall, and he must have been six and a half feet tall to begin with. And his damn old rifle had a bayonet on top. Hell, he looked like he was fifteen foot tall.
We left there and went to Tunis in Tunisia. To get there we had fly through a mountain pass. The first time we got up there, the damn thing was close and we had to make a 360 degree turn and finally got through there. You had to go through there to keep from getting in the clouds. If you get in the clouds and ice up, you'd be in trouble. Then when we hit the Mediterranean coast, we had to fly the coast line. It seemed like it took us forever. When we got to Tunis, we went down the runway, and the guy told us to turn left. Hell, it wasn't nothing but mud out there. "Through that mud?" we said, and he said, "Right through the mud." Tunis is in North Africa and Tunisia is on the Mediterranean. From there, we flew to our air base in Cerignola-Stornara,Italy. That’s where we made the bombing raids from.
And that's where we’ll stop the story for a while.
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