Homeward bound
Time and the war dragged on. The forces in the south were making headway after the battles of Iwo Jima, Makin, Okinawa and others. Troops were being rotated from the south to the States. A little after New Years of 1945, the Kid and a number of old-timers from the division and his company were told to pack up. They were on their way to the States, ending the Kid's 33 months overseas.
They gathered their gear and turned in their arms. They loaded their sea bags and were trucked down to the pier and put aboard an old British freighter, manned by a Hindu crew, and set sail for the States. This was some kind of vessel as it must've been a century old. Its rusty old sides were covered with many, many coats of paint, as were its decks. The holds were hot and poorly ventilated. He slept on deck with a life jacket for a pillow. They fed them from a single tin pan with all the "mess" piled on it. Bad quality beef and boiled potatoes with some kind of gravy and bread — no way to treat conquering heroes!
The Hindu crew was something else. Dressed in their sloppy clothes and sandals, they went about the decks sweeping with a bundle of thatch. Their painting was even more pathetic — they'd find a place that needed paint, pour a dab and smear it around with a swatch of twigs. That poor ship!
It took them five days to make the crossing to California. The final insult was being passed by a Liberty ship that went sailing right on by.
They finally limped into San Diego harbor and docked at the same pier that the Kid had left from almost three years prior. They were taken to Marine Base-San Diego and housed in tents that were part of the partially empty boot camp. They were given the freedom of the base to visit the BX, have a few beers in the slopchute, and buy a few things. They weren't allowed to go on liberty off base as they were in transit and awaiting orders to entrain for home leave, spending about five days awaiting orders.
They all had leave coming, after which they'd be sent to new duty stations around the nation. They given a choice as to where they wanted to go for duty. The Kid choose the East Coast as he'd never been there and wanted to see it. He was thinking more of the New York City area but no, that was not his assignment. Instead he was sent to Jacksonville, Florida — which was not a bad thing as its weather was good, just like what he'd left in Hawaii.
While at home he stayed with his sister, who lived in an apartment complex close to the avenue of his younger days. There was not much to do but carouse the avenue, drink, and chase women, which he did with some finesse. He met one woman who was a good friend of his sister, spending most of the month in her company. They did all the good restaurants in the area and drank much good liquor. They were very close and continued to write after he returned to duty.
Jacksonville
He was assigned to the brig, which meant he was one of the guard corporals who sat at a desk and checked the prisoners in and out of the building. They'd go on working parties, or to court, or some such. On the night watch he was expected to rouse the prisoners every couple of hours, for a head count, to make their life generally miserable as prisoners were not supposed to enjoy prison. Sometimes he was assigned to "chasing prisoners," which meant he ushered them to job areas or to the courts. They were also sent to the BX, which they'd clean. As a guard you were obliged to keep a sharp watch on the prisoners. The rule was, if a guard let a prisoner escape — he'd have to take the prisoner's place in the brig. No written law was ever found that directly stated such, but it had its effect on the guards.
Jacksonville was an interesting duty station. It was a Naval Air Station, from which flew long-range patrol planes such as PBYs and other scout patrol bombers. The base is located on the St. Johns River, which was a perfect place for landing the giant seaplanes. They could ramp themselves out of the calm river water with no stress, as they are amphibious.
The training facilities for pilots and navigators were also located there, with "Sperry Gyro" control units that allowed pilots and navigators to train for flight problems and related matters. These simulators were the high-tech gizmos of the day. They'd simulate a plane's flight from take off to landing with all the turbulence of an actual flight. The Kid made use of his acquaintances and got permission to try the simulators. Their movement was charted by a device that duplicated its course. He almost flew it off the table as he was flying blind and couldn't tell where he was or was supposed to be. Great fun!
A duty station is always rated by the quality of the liberty therein, and Jacksonville's was very good. The city was a short bus ride away and the beach was only a few minutes farther. Jacksonville was typical of the time and place — big and rowdy with its share of all the enticements most servicemen look for when on liberty. The bars were numerous and the girls were free and easy, as befitted the times. The beach area was the most popular place as its carnival atmosphere made for a jolly time. The place was overrun with servicemen and women possessing various degrees of charm. The guys would cruise the walk looking for a women to take up with, at least for a night.
VE Day. . .VJ Day
Duty went on through the summer of 1945. The war news reflected America's gains both in Europe and the South Pacific. Then, all of a sudden, the war in Europe ended and attention was shifted to the conflict with Japan. It had come to the question of whether it would be necessary to invade Japan itself. A consensus was that such an invasion would be very costly. The fact that the Japs would not lay down their arms to surrender was well known, so American generals knew that an invasion would be costly. Luckily, the decision did not have to be made as the atomic bombs used on Hiroshima and Nagasaki put an end to the need for an invasion. Many Americans breathed a great sigh of profound relief.
The Kid had duty on the night of VJ Day, and missed all the hoop-la that went on in town. His luck!
The saga of the Kid's war came to a sudden halt. They threw him out on 20 September 1945, after three years and nine months of service — and they didn't ask if he wanted to stay. At the time the government was anxious to rid itself of all who qualified for discharge. The Kid was high on that list with 33 months overseas and no further obligation. He doubted that he'd have stayed even if they'd asked. He'd had enough of war and service, as did thousands of others.
So he packed his sea bag one more time, took his travel voucher and headed for the nearest railroad station. He rode home with a couple of others headed for St Louis. They had a good time drinking and joking and telling war stories as — it had been a hell of a war!
Finis . . . and Semper Fidelis!
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