Fighting the enemy from the home front.

I was 5 yrs. old when the Japenese attacked Pearl Harbor. Jerry was 7. As our older brothers were drafted and sent to training camps and then to duty stations across the seas, we knew we were at war. My sister joined the WAC's and eventually ended up in Italy and Egypt. Mike ended up on a supply island in the New Hebrides and Don was in the artillary through the Normandy invasion to the Battle of the Bulge and on until the wars end. Gene entered the Navy as the war was winding down. That left Jerry and me to handle the home front. We played war every day after school and all summer long through the duration. We fought the germans and Japs both on the ground and in the air. The barns hay mow was our Bomber. We were mostly side gunners or Bombadiers. We blew many an enemy plane out of the sky before we eventually got shot down and had to bail out into the hay below. We always held our breath when we jumped. Dont know why, just seemed like the thing to do. I know the folks worried a lot about the kids in the war. We prayed the rosary for them every night. We were too little to know how deeply worried they were ,as were countless other Moms and Dads across our Nation. I remember one day Dad telling Mom what some thoughtless person had said to him one day. He said George it wouldn't be so bad if you lost a son in this war because you have a big family. My dad told him; We dont love one child less than another. There were many parents that lost children in that war in our little town. Albert Koci and his brother were aboard the same ship when it was sunk .Albert survived but his brother was trapped below decks and was lost. Chuck Nacke flew a P 38 and his plane dissapearedover New Guiney. They were flying on radio silence so no one in the squadron knew what happened. There was a Baily, a McGovern, a Wilmore, and many others from our town and county. Our folks always went to see these families and offer them what comfort they could give. I'm sure they spent many sleepless nights worrying about and praying for their children. I remember the censored letters. Anything the service person sent home was typed like a telegram and anything the censor felt would be of aid to the enemy would be blacked out in case the mail was captured. I think they called it V-Mail. Mike told the folks to think of the third person of the Blessed Trinity so dad figured out he was on the Hebrides island called Espiritu Santo which means the Holy Spirit. Don told of a beautiful church in the town he had passed through. Dad had seen the same church in France in World War one. Dad kept a map of the western front on the wall and would follow the news where ever the army was fighting. Don was in Pattons Army so he was in the worst battles. He said a lot of them were wounded but never called for the medics and would patch themselves up the best they could because if the medic found them in critical shape they would frequently give them overdoses of morphine to stop the pain which would often lead to death. Remember, there were no evacuation helicopters or any other way to get to safety. That war dragged on for years. There was no rotation of troops. You served for the duration. Not so many months and you go home. I remember my friends dad who served aboart the Aircraft Carrier Enterprise which was battered by gunships and Kamikazi pilots in the Pacific and nearly sank before being towed to safety telling my dad that he never expected to see land again, much less the United States. It was well known among Navy personel that if you had to abandon ship and you were picked up by a Japenese ship you would be beheaded, or else they would shoot you in the water. There is nothing glamerous about war. They should never be fought without first trying everything possible to talk out your differences. Sadly thats not always the case. Wars are best fought in the imagininations of little kids like we fought them on the acerage. And after the battle we would go in the house,wash our hands, eat supper,pray the rosary, and go to bed and sleep with one eye open hopeing those German prisoners a few blocks away dont decide to escape this night and murder us in our beds.

Old Irish

Memorial Day 1940's

As the Memorial day weekend is here I thought I would write a few memories I had when I was a little kid. First Memorial day was always May 30th. That was also my Dad's birthday. There was always a huge parade. Of course we always thought the parade was in Dad's honer. Dad was a veteran of World war one. He was on the ship on the way to France when the Germans surrendered. He always told us kids that the Germans heard he was coming so they quickly surrendered before they had to face him. Such Blarney, and he wasn't even Irish! When he returned to civilian life he Married Mom and kids happened! One about every two years. Jerry and I were No's 8 and 9. The parades were always long and we were proud to watch for our Dad in the ranks of Legionaires in their deep blue uniforms and the Sam Brown belts and barracks caps with the American legion emblem on them. After the parade there was Patriotic music played in the band shell in Roosevelt park. Then some lady would sing the song "My buddy", and one of the veteran dignateries woulg give a speech. After the cerimonies were finished the rifle squad and the honer guard would go to each of the cemetaries in town and lay a wreath and fire a 21 gun salute.in honor of the veterans buried there and then Taps were played. We always liked to go there in hopes of picking up an empty shell or two. The cemetaries were always beautiful with a flag placed on every veterans grave. Only one thing took away from it and that was the fire department put fire department flags on the firemens graves. That used to really hurt my Dad to see that. In my home town at that time few if any firemen had ever served their country in uniform. They envied the men that did.If my Dad knew how the President has declared every fireman and police officer from the cities to the rural villages as heroes deserving all the respect that these real men and women who have fought our wars have earned, he would roll over in his grave! Here in Nebraska the State has a separate Law Enforcement Memorial day for officers who had died on duty. It was earlier this month and that was good. I think the Fire Fighters could have their day too, Just not on the day when we Honor our deceased Veterans. They are not the same!! Now there are only one or two world war one vets still alive. And the World war two vets are dying in numbers. The V.F.W. with the help of doners is sending three flights of WW two vets to see the World War two Memorial in Washington D.C. Iwish I was able to help. I wish all the vets from Nebraska were able to go. Larry the Cable guy donated 80,000 dollars towards these flights.

Back when I was a kid there was an Air Corps training base at Bruning, ten miles north of us. The G.I.'s were in town a lot with their Jeeps and always participated in the parades. They would give us kid's rides in the jeeps and we really thought we were hot stuff.If any of them were at church on Sunday there was a good chance Mom would invite them to dinner. She always felt that maybe someone would do the same for her kids. They had a U.S.O. in our town and there were lots of G.I. around. We talked with them a lot. That was a long time ago but I still remember many things about those times.

Old Irish

Mommas dont let your babies grow up to be cowboys

I remember when I had a band how shannon and colleen loved to hear me sing that song. When I came to the end I always changed the last verse to "Mommas dont let your cowboys grow up to be babies." Our band wasn't very good but people actually paid us to perform. It was fun trying. One night before the band one of the locals wanted to play his accordian in the bar. He brought a snare drum along so I played the drum while he played the Polka songs he knew. He had an amp for the accordian so the louder I banged on the drum the louder he cranked up his amp. Finally one of the customers turned the amp around and said here Don, listen to yourself and see how you like it! Another customer wanted to play his accordian in the bar. He knew two songs. The polka called "Come back to Prague" and "Cheers , Cheers for old Notre Dame". You can imagine listening to two songs the whole night long. Some of his buddies would clap and he would grin ear to ear and play all the louder. He thought they really loved his music. They are all long dead and gone now but they left some good memories.

Old Irish

The sounds of music

Just musing on sounds of music I love. The absolutely prettiest music that makes me happy and sometimes almost cry is the music box chimes of Brahms lullaby played on the intercom all over St. Elizabeth hospital whenever a new baby is born.

One of my favorites from the past is the sounds of a Sanctuary full of priests singing the Litany of the Saints.

The music I miss singing the most is Gregorian Chant.

I enjoyed singing in the choir and singing at High school music contests . Our little school won Superior ratings almost every year at these contests.

I enjoyed singing country western songs and ballads.

While driving Steve and Brian Hiebert up the mountains to Idlewild cabins in California ,the hills and curves would make them Queasy. I sang Alley Oop with them to take their minds off of getting sick.

When Barbara's car was broke down I took her to Hebron a couple times and she loved to listen to me sing along with the radio "countin flowers on the wall" and "these boots were made for walkin".

I still love to sing but too often the flim in my throat seems to interfere.

Other favorite music is the Morman Tabernacle Choir doing the Battle Hymn of the Republic, and of course any good Irish Tenor singing Danny Boy.

Just some thoughts about music that has brought me pleasure in my life time.

Old Irish

Something Stupid

I was thinking about writing a new blog. You know I am aging and have artheritic hands so I need to keep my stories short. From some of the comments I get all I would have to say is something stupid I have done in my past. It makes me wonder if they read the whole story. I have done a lot of stupid things from my youth up to the present. Some of them I probably would not put on a blog. I do have lots of stories to tell and I hope some of the readers find them interesting or enjoyable to read. One thing for sure. I was not a perfect angel growing up. I'm not sure I am done growing up. Anyway I will be blogging again shortly. I tried the response to the trivia question on Jerrys entry on the family forum but it wouldn't take my entry. I'm not up to writing it again. Maybe Jerry will tell his story. In the meantime if any readers would like to tell of something stupid they have done in their life, feel free to mention it on my blog. They say Confession is good for the soul. Works for me.

Old Irish