World War II - From My Perspective

What was it like in World War II from my perspective? I’m not sure of what I can tell you. So, let’s break into the memory bank and see what we find.

My husband and I were married in 1942, not quite a year after the beginning of World War II. He left for the Army one day less than two months later. We knew this was likely to happen at some point. We were just surprised that it hadn’t occurred earlier. Oddly enough, Melvin had tried to enlist about a year before, in the Navy; but was rejected because of flat feet. When he was drafted some time later, he was assigned to the infantry and walked his way across Europe. Shipboard required better feet than the infantry?

We were married three years before we spent an anniversary or holiday together. In those days, after a soldier was sent to overseas, there was no stipulated time limit before being furloughed home. Once you were in the war theater, you were there for the duration. The men did get a three day pass from time to time, depending on circumstances. And the occasional furlough, to designated places in the general area, then a return to active duty. In later wars, apparently a rotation system was thought to work better.

Melvin was in the States longer than some men were, before getting their assignment to overseas duty, though we were separated for all but six months of that time. He was in a replacement training unit, and some men were sent ‘over’ to replace men who had individually lost their war, while others remained to help train new men coming in. Out of a special buddy unit of three, one of Melvin’s closest friends was sent to Europe for the D-Day invasion. In the all for one and one for all spirit, the other two put up a fuss They wanted to go with Hank. Needless to say, what was was; nobody paid any attention to what left-behind buddies wanted.

Perhaps it was because the top brass knew it was then time for an all out push, but just a few weeks later, the entire division followed Hank to Europe. Melvin and Woody remained in the same unit: Woody was the COs driver and Melvin was a machine gunner. The life-expectancy of a machine gunner was not great. The way I handled that was that I simply did not accept the fact that Melvin might not return. My faith in his return was apparently greater than his. I think when he left, he never expected to return. Fortunately, he did.

That did not mean that I was not concerned, or that I did not say countless prayers, but I did not ask myself, What if he doesn’t return? Or What will I do if he is killed? I did not allow myself to think those thoughts. I concentrated on when the war is over, and when he comes home. However, there was a brief period just before the end of 1944, when things were not going well, when I almost faltered for a moment. It was something like starting to fall, but somehow you regain your balance and right yourself before hitting the floor.

That’s all for now. Perhaps more later.