TO SLEEP IN SAFETY

TO SLEEP IN SAFETY…

...it seemed that I’d forgotten what that felt like. It all started in April of 1944, I was 30 years old and had only known the peace and struggle of farm life in Arkansas. My family was not financially rich, but wealthy in love for each other. I had 3 brothers and 2 sisters. I married in 1937, a local girl that I had been sweet on finally accepted my proposal. For 5 years we were happy, until a fever set in upon my bride. I lost her in 1942. Heartbroken and lonely, I somehow made it through long workdays and dreams of her at night.

World War 2 had started in 1939, while the world was in a battle on the far continents, I was at war within myself. It was so hard to escape the memory of my first love that I was almost glad when I was drafted into the army. At least I could take out my anger and frustration and possibly join her in death.

You see, during those turbulent years, I couldn’t sleep very well. Before being drafted I had the nightmares of her calling to me for help, only to arrive at her side in my dream and be able to do nothing!

I welcomed the hard training of boot camp, at least on most nights I was too tired to dream of anything. We were being prepared for days, weeks, months of hard fighting in harsh conditions.

November 2, 1944, 8 months after being drafted, I was standing in a bitterly cold forest in France receiving my first assignment as a soldier. The battle was on. Every thought had to be focused now on the enemy threatening my life. Enemy positions had been spotted in a nearby stand of trees...we were to “clear the forest” of these enemy posts. This would be my new, day by day, minute by minute goal...clear out the enemy ahead.

We fought, we suffered, some died. We were fighting in deep snow those first few weeks, eating mostly cold rations and sleeping, or trying to sleep in foxholes dug into the frozen ground. What we called rest only came when our bodies were just too tired to do anything else.

I came into the war hoping to erase death from my mind, only to see and experience death daily. Men,...boys really, were dying around me every day. I helped as many as I could. I fought for their safety. I tended their wounds and comforted them as they died in my arms. Many, in their dying moments, spoke with loved ones that weren’t there. A memory of their mother would show up and suddenly, mentally, they were sitting in her lap being rocked and cradled in her arms. They promised Daddy that they would get the chores done before suppertime. Whispered the name of girls back home waiting for their return. I found myself talking to my parents, promising them that I would make it home, and hug them again.

I came into the war halfway hoping to die...now I wanted to live.

Mountains, mud, and minefields stood between me and home now. I was determined to stay alert and stay alive. I would not return home as the victim of a loss, but the victor over death on all sides.

In war, to get through the devastation of what your eyes see and your emotions feel, you tend to become machine-like. Disconnecting your thoughts and just doing the job in front of you. Many of my fellow soldiers would not be going home alive, but also, many of the enemy soldiers would not be returning to their homeland alive either. It was a job, and we just did it.

In April of 1946, I received word that my tour of duty was over and I was being sent stateside. I assure you that soldiers do cry, some when they are consumed by the fear of battle, some by the pain of wounds, some by letters from home…others, like me who cry when they are told that they are going home.

The ship that carried me and other tired changed men home was a mixture of quiet contemplation with an occasional outburst of laughter. We slept in safety again for the first time in months.

After days at sea, the captain announced over the speakers that we were nearing the shores of New York City. I gathered with my brothers in arms at the railing and peered in the direction we were headed. Soon, like a ship on a far horizon, we spotted something that sent a chill through us! Slowly rising from the waters before us we began to make out the flame of the Statue of Liberty!

Home and Life never looked so good!