I'd like to post this thread to honor the memory of my grandfather.
He was born 25-May-1925 in Arkansas and convinced his mother to sign for him so that he could join the Navy in January 1942.
My grandfather attended boot camp in California and was trained as an aviation metalsmith. During his training, he learned that he had the ability to box. There was a swimming pool on the base and everyone just hung their clothes on pegs in the shower room when they went for a swim. One day, he went to get his clothes and found that the money had been taken out of his wallet and his watch had been stolen. He eventually caught the culprit and "beat the hell out of him" in the bathroom...he got his watch back!
Once overseas, he landed on numerous islands and worked at airfields patching up damaged aircraft. Often, men from y grandfather's unit would fly with bomber crews on their missions and perform simple repairs in the air. Once, he had signed up to go on a bombing mission and was told to report to a certain hanger the next morning. When he reported there, he discovered that a more senior officer had "bumped" him from the mission because he needed to accumulate some flight time. My grandfather always told this story with tears in his eyes...he said that he was mad at first, but when the planes came back, the one he was supposed to be on never returned. He'd always say "The Good Lord really looked out for me over there."
Part of my grandfather's duties involved going out on patrols around the airfields and clearing the trees of Japanese snipers. When they were doing this on the Philippines on time, my grandfather and his squad of men got very hungry during their patrol. They could smell some food cooking and went looking for it. In a valley, they saw an army field kitchen hard at work. They decided to go down and see if the army would feed some hungry navy guys. When they approached the field kitchen, a man walked out of a tent and began washing off some plates. It was Shelby Calhoun...my grandfather's next-door-neighbor from back home in Arkansas! Wow, what a small world, neither of them knew the other was anywhere around and they bumped into each other in the middle of a war!
I have a knife that I will show yall in a second that my grandfather made out of a piece of metal from a fighter plane. He was six feet tall but only weighed 120 pounds. This was because he had trouble keeping his food down with all of the carnage around him. As a result, he said that when he fired his M-1 rifle, the recoil would really throw him around. Often times, the Japanese would make suicide raids on American airfields in an attempt to put them out of action. My grandfather found that when he was crouching in a foxhole, his M-1 was an ungainly weapon, so he made this knife and kept it tied to his lower led. That way, when he was crouched down, he could quickly pull it out and make short work of any Japanese soldier who tried to share the foxhole with him.
My grandfather recalled that he was on a troop ship in the South China Sea when they heard the news that President Roosevelt had died. After the atomic bombing of Japan, my grandfather had enough points to earn his discharge.
He was sent to the Naval Air Station at Normon, OK and worked there until his discharge went through. While there, he still had to keep up his flight time in order to receive flight pay. He once signed up to fly with a Marine test-pilot who was flying a Stearman Bi-plane. My grandfather was told to get in the back seat and buckle up. He got in and just buckled the lap belt around his waist. The pilot then went up and put the plan through all sorts of rolls and twists. He looked in the mirror and saw my grandfather hanging out of the rear end of the plan when they were upside down. The marine pilot landed at once on a grassy field and asked him what the hell he thought he was doing! He said: "Didn't you have your harness on?" My grandfather had no idea what he was talking about and the pilot had to show him where the shoulder harness was located. Once he was properly strapped in, they flew the rest of the day. My grandfather always used to laugh at that, he'd say that he survived two plus years of combat against the Japanese and was nearly killed because he didn't know how to work the safety belts on an old bi-plane!
My grandfather, Poppy, passed away on 7-April-11. The last year of his life he was very ill but he did not want to go to a nursing home. My mother and aunt decided that he needed to go anyway, but I refused. I told them that if they put him in a nursing home, I'd just bust him out and bring him home with me. As a result, I spent the last year waiting on and taking care of my grandfather so that he wouldn't have to go to a home. We rented medical equipment, arranged for house-calls, and did whatever it took to make it possible for him to stay at his house where he wanted to be. As a result, in the last few weeks of his life when he was really bad, he was never alone for a moment. He was able to pass away peacefully and in his own home surrounded by his family. I was honored to be able to care for him at the end of his life the way he always cared for me when he was able and at 4:35 A.M., I was holding his hand when he breathed his last.
Time for some pictures: The first one is Poppy on the Island of Munda.
He was born 25-May-1925 in Arkansas and convinced his mother to sign for him so that he could join the Navy in January 1942.
My grandfather attended boot camp in California and was trained as an aviation metalsmith. During his training, he learned that he had the ability to box. There was a swimming pool on the base and everyone just hung their clothes on pegs in the shower room when they went for a swim. One day, he went to get his clothes and found that the money had been taken out of his wallet and his watch had been stolen. He eventually caught the culprit and "beat the hell out of him" in the bathroom...he got his watch back!
Once overseas, he landed on numerous islands and worked at airfields patching up damaged aircraft. Often, men from y grandfather's unit would fly with bomber crews on their missions and perform simple repairs in the air. Once, he had signed up to go on a bombing mission and was told to report to a certain hanger the next morning. When he reported there, he discovered that a more senior officer had "bumped" him from the mission because he needed to accumulate some flight time. My grandfather always told this story with tears in his eyes...he said that he was mad at first, but when the planes came back, the one he was supposed to be on never returned. He'd always say "The Good Lord really looked out for me over there."
Part of my grandfather's duties involved going out on patrols around the airfields and clearing the trees of Japanese snipers. When they were doing this on the Philippines on time, my grandfather and his squad of men got very hungry during their patrol. They could smell some food cooking and went looking for it. In a valley, they saw an army field kitchen hard at work. They decided to go down and see if the army would feed some hungry navy guys. When they approached the field kitchen, a man walked out of a tent and began washing off some plates. It was Shelby Calhoun...my grandfather's next-door-neighbor from back home in Arkansas! Wow, what a small world, neither of them knew the other was anywhere around and they bumped into each other in the middle of a war!
I have a knife that I will show yall in a second that my grandfather made out of a piece of metal from a fighter plane. He was six feet tall but only weighed 120 pounds. This was because he had trouble keeping his food down with all of the carnage around him. As a result, he said that when he fired his M-1 rifle, the recoil would really throw him around. Often times, the Japanese would make suicide raids on American airfields in an attempt to put them out of action. My grandfather found that when he was crouching in a foxhole, his M-1 was an ungainly weapon, so he made this knife and kept it tied to his lower led. That way, when he was crouched down, he could quickly pull it out and make short work of any Japanese soldier who tried to share the foxhole with him.
My grandfather recalled that he was on a troop ship in the South China Sea when they heard the news that President Roosevelt had died. After the atomic bombing of Japan, my grandfather had enough points to earn his discharge.
He was sent to the Naval Air Station at Normon, OK and worked there until his discharge went through. While there, he still had to keep up his flight time in order to receive flight pay. He once signed up to fly with a Marine test-pilot who was flying a Stearman Bi-plane. My grandfather was told to get in the back seat and buckle up. He got in and just buckled the lap belt around his waist. The pilot then went up and put the plan through all sorts of rolls and twists. He looked in the mirror and saw my grandfather hanging out of the rear end of the plan when they were upside down. The marine pilot landed at once on a grassy field and asked him what the hell he thought he was doing! He said: "Didn't you have your harness on?" My grandfather had no idea what he was talking about and the pilot had to show him where the shoulder harness was located. Once he was properly strapped in, they flew the rest of the day. My grandfather always used to laugh at that, he'd say that he survived two plus years of combat against the Japanese and was nearly killed because he didn't know how to work the safety belts on an old bi-plane!
My grandfather, Poppy, passed away on 7-April-11. The last year of his life he was very ill but he did not want to go to a nursing home. My mother and aunt decided that he needed to go anyway, but I refused. I told them that if they put him in a nursing home, I'd just bust him out and bring him home with me. As a result, I spent the last year waiting on and taking care of my grandfather so that he wouldn't have to go to a home. We rented medical equipment, arranged for house-calls, and did whatever it took to make it possible for him to stay at his house where he wanted to be. As a result, in the last few weeks of his life when he was really bad, he was never alone for a moment. He was able to pass away peacefully and in his own home surrounded by his family. I was honored to be able to care for him at the end of his life the way he always cared for me when he was able and at 4:35 A.M., I was holding his hand when he breathed his last.
Time for some pictures: The first one is Poppy on the Island of Munda.
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