January 15, 2024 • 38 mins
On this episode of Our American Stories, Sally Grove thought she knew everything about her father... until she found his war diary from his time serving in WWII.
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Speaker 1 (00:10):
This is Lee Habib, and this is our American Stories,
the show where America is the star and the American people. Today,
you're going to hear from Sally Grove. He'll be sharing
with us a story she wrote called How I Came
to Know My Father.
Speaker 2 (00:34):
I was twenty years old, fresh out of college, and
in my first year of teaching. It was a difficult
first year. Why did college prepare me so little for
my own classroom? Finally a break, a time to breathe.
I went home for Thanksgiving. There I talked with my
dad about my living situation and my finances.
Speaker 3 (00:55):
Both in dire straits.
Speaker 2 (00:57):
I lived in a basement apartment with a bathroom that
leaked water into the kitchen, and the landlord, who lived richly,
didn't care about the problems of his tenants, even as
they lived in his own basement. Car payments. Dad had
warned me not to buy a new car, not want
to listen. I bought a new Honda Civic and was
now living the consequences. I loved my shiny red car,
(01:21):
but the car payments on an eight thousand dollars per
year teaching salary were a killer. On Thanksgiving Day, nineteen
seventy seven, my father invited me to move back home
to relieve the pressure. I could save some money and
have some support from my family. As I got my
feet wet teaching and paying my new expenses, I cried
(01:42):
that Thanksgiving and gave Dad a big hug and kiss,
telling him how grateful I was and how much I
loved him. A day later, while sifting through a trunk
in my family's unfinished basement, I found a small stonenographer's notebook.
Its brown cover was worn and well traveled, with edges frayed.
(02:06):
I opened the notebook very slowly and deliberately. Its contents
were gradually revealed, like the plot of a mystery novel.
The practiced and perfect handwriting came into focus, and I
knew this writing to be my dad's.
Speaker 4 (02:24):
On April fifteenth, nineteen forty three, I took my examination
for the US Army. It was on this day that
I ate my first sandwich consisting of baloney.
Speaker 3 (02:39):
Was that my father.
Speaker 2 (02:41):
I had never seen him eat a baloney sandwich. In fact,
I know his menu by heart. Vegetables consisted of peas,
corn and baked beans, and any kind of potato. Meats
were always dry and overcooked. These were his meals and
thus hours Friday night was always tomato soup and grilled
(03:01):
cheese sandwiches. These are the foods that Dad liked, the
foods Mom cooked for him, and the foods that we
all ate and loved. We ate like our dad, all
six of us, much to my mother's chagrin.
Speaker 4 (03:18):
In the morning of April twenty second, my last day home,
I went up Carol Creek and caught seven beautiful trout,
my last as a civilian.
Speaker 2 (03:30):
When I was small, our family would visit Poppy and Frederick.
I used to stare at the stuffed fish that adorned
the dark, dusty shadowed walls in his house. The fish
hung as a testament to his youth and his sense
of adventure. My grandfather was a fisherman, and he taught
my father to fish.
Speaker 3 (03:50):
I have a great picture of.
Speaker 2 (03:51):
My dad standing with a fist full of fish, fanned
out for the photographer's film.
Speaker 3 (03:57):
Was this a picture of Dad?
Speaker 2 (03:58):
On the day my grandfather called the Big One.
Speaker 4 (04:04):
Our train ride took us through western Maryland, West Virginia, Ohio, Indiana, Kentucky, Tennessee,
and Alabama. We arrived at our new station, bart McClellan,
a very tired bunch of rookies. I got along very well,
eating most everything we got for meals, although not liking
(04:26):
it very much.
Speaker 2 (04:29):
His first big adventure via train, how exciting. With six kids,
our family's adventures now consisted of camping in western Maryland
for a week in Ocean City. We rode bikes each
morning on the boardwalk and had breakfast at Happy Jack's
pancake House. At least in Ocean City, Dad ate what
he wanted.
Speaker 4 (04:50):
I took the Air Cadet Exam the twelfth week of Basic.
The passing grade for the Cadet exam is eighty three,
and I made one hundred percent, the third highest grade.
On February sixteenth, nineteen forty four, I made my first
flight at the school, and by March eleventh, I had
(05:10):
completed ten hours of flying. I really loved flying.
Speaker 2 (05:16):
Wow, twenty one years old and learning to fly. I
didn't know Dad had ever phoned planes. Why didn't he
tell us? I remember when we were little, Dad took
us to a penny a pound day at the local airport.
For a penny a pound, we could go on an
airplane ride. I remember being frightened and not wanting to go,
Dad convinced me it would be okay, and once we
(05:38):
were in the air, I couldn't get enough for flying.
The houses and streets looked like a miniature Christmas village below.
No wonder Dad loved flying.
Speaker 4 (05:50):
Arrived at Santa Anna Army Airbase on the twenty third.
I'm to a very exciting trip across the US by first,
after taking the test for three straight days, I was
a classified pilot. But then the tragedy came an order
from Washington calling back all cadets were former Round four students,
(06:12):
and so my dreams of flying were crushed on April first,
nineteen forty four, by a single piece of paper.
Speaker 2 (06:20):
Well, I guess that's why my father didn't tell us
his dreams of becoming a pilot were shattered. What other
dreams did my father have for his life? Most of
what I know of Dad revolves around the time he
spent with his family.
Speaker 3 (06:33):
Were we a part of his life? Dream?
Speaker 1 (06:39):
And you've been listening to Sally Grove and she's talking
to us about how she came to know her father
and it came when she decided to move back in
with her family to try and get herself settled as
a young teacher and trying to make ends meet. She
finds a trunk and a notebook and the writing, Well,
(06:59):
it was all her dad's is handwriting. I never knew
he could fly, she said, when she found out he'd
learned to pilot planes at the age of twenty one.
Why didn't he tell us? Well, we're going to find out.
The answer to that question is so much more. Jali
Grove's story continues. Her father's story continues here on Our
(07:20):
American Stories. Lee Hibibe here the host of Our American Stories.
Every day on this show, we're bringing inspiring stories from
across this great country, stories from our big cities and
small towns. But we truly can't do the show without you.
(07:44):
Our stories are free to listen to, but they're not
free to make. If you love what you hear, go
to Ouramerican Stories dot com and click the donate button.
Give a little, give a lot. Go to Alamerican Stories
dot com and give. And we returned to Our American
(08:11):
Stories and to Sally Grove sharing the story of finding
her father's war diary and learning so much about him
that she did not know. Let's pick up where we
last left.
Speaker 4 (08:22):
Off January eleventh. We left the good old Terra Firmer
of the USA for Europe January twenty first, nineteen forty five.
We landed at Lajava, France. We had a cold reception
on landing, the temperature was below zero. We rode sixty
(08:43):
miles in open trucks to Camp Lucky Strike coldness ride
in my life. We arrived at camp at two am
frozen stuff. Our night was far from over yet, as
we had the pitch tents in the snow, and when
we finally did get to bed, they were too cold
to sleep.
Speaker 2 (09:01):
I took us history in high school, and I guess
I should have known that Dad fault in World War Two.
Still Dad never talked about the war.
Speaker 4 (09:09):
The camp of former German airfields, with a large concrete runway,
was infested with mines and booby traps. We trained in
snow and then knee deep mud for about a month,
making very hard marches. During that time, my feet were
frozen so badly that I couldn't wear shoes for several days.
Speaker 2 (09:33):
While studying history is nothing like reading a journal from
World War Two. They didn't talk about the cold and
the suffering. The soldiers went through in our textbook, feet
frozen so badly that you couldn't wear shoes. Thankfully, that
is a cold I have never known.
Speaker 4 (09:50):
On March twenty fifth, we moved up to the west
bank of the Rhine. We arrived at eight pm eight
and at ten thirty p with but two hours sleep,
we started our assault crossing for hours, our artillery had
been hammering the east bank, and now the forest was
a blazing inferno. Our company crept down, twisting trails to
(10:14):
the river's edge. As we reached the river bank, we
were fired upon by a hail of machine guns and
twenty millimeters, which pinned us to the ground for half
an hour. The railroad station to our front was ablaze
as a result of the firing. The second platoon tried
to launch several boats, but was mowed down before they
(10:36):
could load them. Finally, in desperation, Captain Brown asked for
a boatload of volunteers to try and make it across.
Our whole squad stepped forward.
Speaker 2 (10:50):
My dad was a part of the assault on the Rhine.
We learned so little about World War II in my
history class. We learned almost nothing about the Holocaust or
how the United States declared neutrality at the start of
World War two in Europe. What we did learn was
about troop movements. My limited memory tells me that the
assault on the Rhine was a big deal. It precipitated
(11:10):
the beginning of the end.
Speaker 4 (11:13):
We got out only about thirty yards before they spotted
our boat. Everything broke loose at us, but we kept
going halfway across, and by this time about two blocks downstream,
we again received heavy fire, but again followed through it.
Finally were about forty yards from the Jerry sign, right
(11:36):
opposite a high wall on which the machine guns were mounted.
This time the jug heads had our range and were
peppering the boats, so we decided to swim for it,
stripping off all equipment but our guns. We know of overborne.
I was in mid air when I felt a hot
(11:56):
sear in my shoulder. I found that I could not
use my left arm, but I managed to swim with
one arm to shore. I was the only one of
the seven in our boat that was hit. As we
hit the sandy beach, they resumed the firing on us,
and the engineer on our boat with us was hit
and fell at the water's edge. The rest of us
(12:16):
took cover at the base of a warm about twenty
five to thirty feet high.
Speaker 2 (12:21):
I've seen that scar on my dad's shoulder since I
was a kid. The scar is as much a part
of Dad as the dimple on his chin or his
chipped front tooth. I knew his tooth broke during a
childhood flight over the handlebars of his bike, and Mom
always said dad stimples made him look like Robert Mitcham,
a movie star from their generation. But the scarled his shoulder.
(12:45):
I knew nothing about the event that had caused it
until now.
Speaker 4 (12:49):
The engineer was in terrible agony and laid groaning and
praying in a blood and chilling voice, and could not
go to his aid as the Jerry's kept showering the
area with lead. A little later, however, we crept over
to him, but it was too late. A mullet had
hit his spine and he was dead.
Speaker 2 (13:12):
Dad saw a friend and a colleague die. I can't
imagine my father during such a tragic loss. Did a
soldier's training prepare them to go on when they'd lost
a friend.
Speaker 4 (13:23):
We made our way back to the safety of the
wall as shells were hitting directly out from us in
the water. About twenty yards away. We were pinned down
between two lines of fire, one from the Jerry's and
one from the US troops.
Speaker 3 (13:37):
This sounds like a scene from an old war movie.
Speaker 4 (13:42):
Payne feared my body. I don't know why, but one
of my first impulses was the spit the sea if
my lung was hit, which I guess it was not,
as I did not spit blood. I could see the
bullet holes in my jacket right at the point where
the sleeve and the shoulder seam is. I could not
find where the bullet left. Although my chest at the
(14:03):
heart area was very sore and full of blood as
well as swollen. My whole shirt was blood soaked, and
I feared I might bleed to death, although the blood
did not now seem to be running from the wound.
We lay very still along the wall. The hob nailed
boots and Jerryes sounded just above the wall, and we
(14:26):
could hear them loading their machine guns and talking in
low voices. My arm was stiff and throbbing now like
an engine.
Speaker 2 (14:37):
This wasn't an old John Wayne war movie. This battle
was real, and my dad was the main character. How
frightening it must have been for him, bleeding and in pain, waiting,
not knowing what would happened next. The design of his
future was out of his hands.
Speaker 4 (14:55):
Where I lay, there were two more of my buddies,
so I crawled back along the wall try to locate
the rest, but could not do so. The Jerry's must
have heard me, for just then a pebble dropped from
the wall about ten feet away. I realized that it
might not be a stone after all. I hugged the
(15:15):
ground as tightly as I could, pushing my body against him.
I also, in that split second, turned my face against
the wall. Then it happened, a blinding flash and a
deafening noise. I could neither see nor hear. Dirt flew
(15:37):
all over me.
Speaker 2 (15:40):
A grenade had taken my father's sight and his hearing,
A dark veil hanging over his bright blue eyes. How
it must have magnified his fear.
Speaker 4 (15:51):
I felt my face for I'm sure it must be bleeding.
But then my sight returned and gradually my hearing, although
my ears kept ringing. I looked up my money in
front of me, and his head was smeared blood as
well as his foot and legs. I shook him, thinking
he was dead, but he moved. Then another grenade, not
(16:15):
quite as close, hit the ground. A blinding flash and
blast followed. However it did not touch us.
Speaker 2 (16:23):
Concern for others, even in the face of adversity, does
not surprise me. Although my family didn't have much growing up,
we never did without thanks to my father. Dad had
just three suits, one for winter, one for summer, and
wonder where when the in season suit was getting cleaned.
His children, on the other hand, went shopping each September
(16:44):
for new school clothes, and each spring we shined in
our new Easter outfits.
Speaker 4 (16:52):
I knew then that they would keep grenading us till
we were dead and came out. I never prayed so
hard and so desperately in my life. I know not anyone,
no matter what his feeling, put in the same situation,
would ever deny God.
Speaker 2 (17:12):
I have never known a more loving man than my father,
so I'm not surprised that he professes his belief in God. Still,
he never talked to us about his faith.
Speaker 1 (17:24):
And we're listening to Sally Grove tell the story of
her father's service in World War Two, service he didn't
share with his family, but that she found out about
stumbling upon a notebook a memoir. When we come back
more of Sally Grove's story of her father here on
our American Stories. And we're back with our American stories
(18:11):
and the story of Sally Grove's father and how Sally
came to discover his life through reading his war diary.
When we last left off, she was reading about her
father hiding out in World War Two from the Jerrys.
Speaker 4 (18:28):
In those few minutes, which seemed a year, I saw
visions of my favorite fishing places and hunting territory. Saw
them clearly as if I were there. I pictured Mom,
Dad and all the family, as well as all my
friends who I was sure I would never see again.
Speaker 2 (18:52):
My Dad's sister and Kitty told me that Dad was
her best friend. They were the closest in age of
all their siblings and played together as children. They fished
in Carrol Creek and rode their bikes through the streets
of Frederick. I once read a letter that Dad wrote
to his father. He signed his letter love your fishing
buddy Tommy.
Speaker 4 (19:17):
Again, a grenade dropped within twenty feet and I pressed
into the earth. A voice spoke and broken English, Hello, boys,
come out, we know you are there I scarcely breathe,
or each breath sounded like a bellows, at least in
(19:38):
my ears. I was soaked to the skin in blood
and water, and was shaking like a leaf in the wind.
I thought of my first aid kit with its soulfa
drug to keep my wound from infection. Yet I dared
not move, or every move brought a grenade.
Speaker 2 (19:56):
The waiting must have been torture. Dad knew that the
Germans were close and they had his life in their hands.
Speaker 4 (20:03):
Night started to fade, empty boats floated. By then we
heard footsteps on the beach. The Jerrys were afraid to
come down in the darkness with fear of ambush. They
had waited until they had light enough to see and
then investigated me. Were prisoners.
Speaker 2 (20:24):
I can't imagine Dad's fear when he heard footsteps approaching.
The soldier became a prisoner.
Speaker 4 (20:32):
At least the constant fear of uncertainty and falling grenades
was now over. We had lain under the wall from
twelve till daylight, four and a half hours of terrible
uncertainty awaiting death. Our capture would possibly help.
Speaker 3 (20:52):
How did we not know this? Dad?
Speaker 2 (20:54):
Relinquish one state of uncertainty. For another, perhaps being a
prisoner of war was better than laying in wait for
an unknown fate.
Speaker 4 (21:05):
We were searched and stripped of all equipment, but our clothes,
even our first eight pouches were taken, as well as
our cigarettes, water rations, and anything that Jerry's decided they wanted.
I refused to give up my paybook, and finally they
agreed to let me have it. I then tried to
(21:25):
get the other fellow's books back, and they would not
allow on this.
Speaker 2 (21:30):
Why was his paybook so important? What did it mean
to a soldier? Certainly a soldier got paid, whether they
presented a paybook or not. Thankfully, by the time I
knew my dad, he had given up cigarettes for a pipe.
I know that pipes are bad for you, but to
this day, pipe smoke makes me think of my father.
Speaker 4 (21:49):
We had four gards for the eight of us, and
we were forced to carry a fifty pound box with us.
We climbed up a sneap rocky ridge just before the
sun peeped over the horizon. The going was rough. Those
hills were hundreds of feet high and very steep. Our
(22:11):
artillery had begun firing again and we were in constant
danger from our own shells. Me were really snared. I
never thought we wouldn't make it through their alive.
Speaker 2 (22:25):
I'd seldom see my father's show roll emotion, except that
is when Dad made a decision to reverse a doctor's
recommendation for our family. I was ten when my brother,
Craig was born. We didn't know it for several years,
but Craig's brain had been damaged during the birth process.
Craig was developmentally disabled. The doctors told my parents that
(22:46):
Craig and our family would fare best if Craig moved
into a group home. Unfamiliar with the plight ahead, my
parents followed the doctor's recommendation and placed Craig in Camporn Home.
Our family wasn't allowed to see Craig for a month.
When we finally visited, it was raining. Song Sung Blue
played on the radio. My family's hearts mirrored the rain
(23:10):
as we visited with Craig. My father decided that doctors.
Speaker 3 (23:14):
Do not know best.
Speaker 2 (23:15):
Craig came home with us that very day, and my
family never looked back.
Speaker 4 (23:23):
A cold March rain came to add to our discomfort.
My arm was now stiff, but the bleeding had stopped.
My buddies head and leg were giving him plenty of trouble.
We had to slow the pace and take turns helping
him alone. We often went through forests on trails and
dirt roads, tanks and guns concealed in the forest. We
(23:47):
were constantly wet and chilled. Our guards stopped at a
house in the next town and ate while our stomachs
just ground with hunger. And four pm we came to
a little germantown and sat down on the guards talk
to a German captain. We had been walking since five
(24:08):
a m. And we were tired and hungry. Bunch of Joe's.
Speaker 2 (24:16):
Dad had been going for at least twenty hours straight.
I doubt anything that life dealt my father after the
war could compare with what he had experienced in Germany.
No wonder, my dad was always grateful for the small
things in life. He taught us all to stop and
savor the view, to hear the calls of Bob White's
and Whipper Wills echoing in the air at sunset, and
(24:38):
to know that in our family we were rich beyond money.
Speaker 4 (24:49):
One at a time, into the house, the Jerry's captain
interrogated us. I was next to be questioned, and was
glad my time had come, for the uncertainty of waiting
was terrible. I went into the room and the officer
behind a large desk asked, what's your name? I answered
(25:11):
with my name, rank and serial number. He then asked
my outfit. I wouldn't answer, so he told me the
answer the division and also the regiment I was from.
I was not surprised that he knew the division, but
I was given a great surprise when he also named
the regiment. I still cannot understand how he found out
(25:35):
unless he forced one of the other fellows to talk,
and I doubt or found the answer on a letter
or paper of some kind someone was carrying. He then
asked whether we were Panzer's troop flyers or infantry, and
I guess then that he didn't know much about our outfit.
(25:57):
I refused to tell him, and he got very much
mad and threatened to hit me unless I talked. He
even drew back his arm an emotion to strike me,
but it turned out that he did not strike. I
was very mad when he threatened me, and I'm sure
that if he had struck me, I would have gone
over the desk after him and killed him. For I
(26:19):
know I could not. I've taken a slap without fighting back.
It is good that he didn't, or I surely would
have been killed if I had dangled with him.
Speaker 2 (26:32):
I can't even imagine my dad having the thought of
killing someone. He was the gentlest soul I've ever known.
Speaker 1 (26:41):
And you're listening to Sally Grove tell the story of
her father, and along the way some dramatic readings from
that memoir from that book about the war, his war diaries. Essentially,
how did we not know all of this? She said
about her dad. Perhaps being a prisoner of war was
(27:01):
better than being in battle in an unknown state. No wonder,
my dad was excited by the little things in his life,
having gone through what he went through. When we come
back more of this remarkable story, Sally Groves story of
her father here on our American Stories, And we returned
(27:40):
to our American stories and the final portion of Sally
Grove's story, the story of how she came to know
her father through discovering his diary from his time serving
in World War Two. When we last left off, she
was reading about her father being interrogated by the Jerry's captain.
Let's pick up the rest of the story.
Speaker 4 (28:04):
After he had finished questioning all of us, he said
that since we would not talk, we would have nothing
to eat until we decided to talk. We waited for
about two hours in the rain and cold march wind
on the gardens ate, and we looked on with watering
mouths and hungry eyes. Finally we were told to go
(28:26):
in the house. We were brought in a small bowl
of cold potatoes, about one apiece, but they vanished in
a flash, serving themly to sharpen our hunger.
Speaker 2 (28:38):
Gosh, Dad hadn't eaten since eight pm the night before.
He'd gone twenty four hours without food.
Speaker 4 (28:46):
About half an hour later, the three of us that
were wounded were told that a truck was waiting to
take us to a hospital and the rest would march
on to the concentration camp. I almost wished to go
on to the constant tration camp rather than split up
went the rest of the fellows, but I would not
have been allowed, So we parted, our little group that
(29:09):
had been through so much together.
Speaker 2 (29:12):
What would have happened had he gone to the concentration camp?
Would things have turned out differently? Thank God, his life
took the turns it did, or I would not be
here to tell you my father's story.
Speaker 4 (29:27):
It was dark, and we rode for ages in the
small truck and went through countless towns. Finally, about eleven
thirty pm, we were taken into a large German house
which was being used as a jerry Field hospital, and
we gave our name, rank, and serial number to a
Jerry orderly at a desk, and then sat down among
(29:51):
half a dozen wounded Jerry's to wait our turn with
the doctor. I was taken into a room equipped for
operating our radio. He's playing an American song, the first
American song I had hearned for months. A beautiful, young,
blondheaded girl was helping the doctor. He told me it
(30:12):
was his daughter. I laid on a table and was
stripped to the waist, then strapped down hand and foot.
The doctor drew out a large scalpel and laughed as
he drew it across my throat and agnotion to cut it.
If he had not been laughing, it would have been
very much afraid. But I knew it was a joke,
(30:32):
so I laughed back.
Speaker 2 (30:36):
My father had a great sense of humor, a gift
he gave us all. We still laugh when we think
about my dad learning to play tennis for all our lives.
My father came home from work and changed from his
suit into blue jeans. Blue jeans were his primary play clothes,
so when Dad played tennis, he played in jeans. That
was fine in cool weather, but when the mercury skyrocketed
(30:59):
along with my dad's passion for tennis, the problem had
to be fixed. For Father's Day, my siblings and I
bought Dad tennis shorts. My father appeared in the hallway
to show them to us. The boxers were hanging inches
below the shorts. That being a time before it was
chic to have boxers showing beneath shorts. The whole family
(31:20):
dissolved into laughter. Dad not only graduated to shorts that summer,
but was introduced to briefs as well.
Speaker 4 (31:32):
The doctor said, don't feel so good now, do you eat?
Old mayn broken English, and he had studied medicine in Chicago,
and I felt a little better.
Speaker 2 (31:49):
Sadly, this is where Dad's war diary stopped. He didn't
explain how long he was held captive. When he was
liberated from the Germans, where he recuperated from his wounds
or when he returned to the States. Thankfully, my father
had lived through these horrendous events and lived to write
a part of his story. Slowly, after reading the last page,
(32:13):
I closed the stenographer's notebook. My dad was a writer.
This was my father. But outside the lens of my
experience were his memories too.
Speaker 3 (32:23):
Horrible to speak?
Speaker 2 (32:24):
Did Dad write this journal to have an outlet to
express his feelings, hoping that in the writing of the words,
the horror would be erased from his memory. My mind's
camera had always framed a gentle, quiet man. The man
I had known came home each afternoon.
Speaker 3 (32:41):
By four thirty.
Speaker 2 (32:43):
He took a nap, his eyes closing and his body
surrendering to a fast, deep sleep the very moment his
head made contact with the mattress on my parents carved
pineapple post bed. As kids, we rushed to see Dad
when he came home. If we were two seconds late,
o sh sharing had to wait until dinner. At five,
(33:05):
I clutched the notebook to my chest, my heart racing
as I slowly ascended the stairs. Now that I knew
all of this, I couldn't pretend that I didn't know.
Standing on the landing. Images of my dad were rolling
in my brain and in my heart. The camera lens
had changed from close up to white angle, or had
(33:26):
a change for wine angle to close up. My vision
included a man who had suffered greatly and had put
this pain behind him, choosing to live. I opened the
door and found various members of my family sitting around
our house. I relaxed my grip on the notebook, looked
at my mom, at each of my siblings, knowing that
(33:47):
I knew what they did not. I don't remember how
it happened that day, but I shared Dad's notebook with
my family. You see, my father died when I was twenty,
the day after Thanksgiving. He had gone hunting, fell out
(34:07):
of a tree stand and hid his head. They tell
us he died instantly. I remember vividly, too vividly, the
night that my father's station wagon, along with another car,
pulled into the driveway and my aunt Kitty got out
and walked to the door. I assumed that Dad had
finally gotten his deer. When in anticipation, I opened the
(34:29):
door to my aunt and uncle.
Speaker 3 (34:30):
I knew I was wrong.
Speaker 2 (34:32):
Their faces said everything. I don't know how I held
it together. That night, I told my aunt. I would
tell my mother when she returned home from her quick
grocery run. Somehow my family made it through that night,
and then days and nights that followed the next day,
the day after my father died, I would descend the
(34:53):
stairs to the basement. I would go through my father's belongings,
wanting so much to touch him, to hear, to know
he was there. I would open a trunk and find
a small stenographer's notebook. It's brown cover, worn, well traveled,
its edges frayed. My father's war diary. I would learn
(35:15):
things about my father that I had never thought to ask.
Some questions to this day remain unanswered. Still, the journal
provided me with a glimpse into a man I didn't know.
And this is how I came to know my father.
Speaker 1 (35:37):
And a terrific job on the production by Madison Dericot,
and a special thanks to Sally Grove for sharing her
father's story and in a very real sense, her own story.
So often we learn much more about our parents as
we get older, not just through experience walking through their
shoes as we raise children of our own, but often
(35:58):
discovering things about them that they didn't share and that
generation of parents, well, they weren't big sharers. They were
trying to protect us in the end, from the things
they'd gone through. And that's what her dad was doing
for his daughter, for his family. He'd survived the mess,
the carnage, the chaos. Why I impose that on anyone Moreover,
(36:19):
so many of those World War two vets, well, they
had a place to go, call the American Legion and
the VFW Hall's and that's where they could go and
share the stories of loss, of grief, of what so
many called the terrors. And I think it helped them
all get along doing it this way, moving forward in
life while periodically getting together with comrades and sharing that camaraderie.
(36:41):
I think it's what our Iraq veterans and our Afghanistan
veterans did not have that our World War II veterans did.
The scars on my dad's shoulder, she had never understood
where they came from. I'd seen them all my life,
but knew nothing about the event that caused that scar
until the diary. It didn't explain how long he was
(37:04):
held captive, his diary and how he would return to
the States. So there was still some unfinished business, some mystery.
By the way, there's not always anything wrong with having
some of that mystery. My father suffered greatly and chose
to put that suffering behind him and move on. He
(37:24):
died when she was twenty years old. Dear hunting. Imagine
this getting through World War two and dying falling out
of a deer stand. I don't know how I held
it together that night, but the next day I would
descend down to the basement and touch the things that
were a part of his life. A beautiful story of
(37:46):
the story of Sally Grove's father, and in the end,
Sally Grove herself. Here on our American Stories
This is Lee Habib, and this is our American Stories,
the show where America is the star and the American people. Today,
you're going to hear from Sally Grove. He'll be sharing
with us a story she wrote called How I Came
to Know My Father.
Speaker 2 (00:34):
I was twenty years old, fresh out of college, and
in my first year of teaching. It was a difficult
first year. Why did college prepare me so little for
my own classroom? Finally a break, a time to breathe.
I went home for Thanksgiving. There I talked with my
dad about my living situation and my finances.
Speaker 3 (00:55):
Both in dire straits.
Speaker 2 (00:57):
I lived in a basement apartment with a bathroom that
leaked water into the kitchen, and the landlord, who lived richly,
didn't care about the problems of his tenants, even as
they lived in his own basement. Car payments. Dad had
warned me not to buy a new car, not want
to listen. I bought a new Honda Civic and was
now living the consequences. I loved my shiny red car,
(01:21):
but the car payments on an eight thousand dollars per
year teaching salary were a killer. On Thanksgiving Day, nineteen
seventy seven, my father invited me to move back home
to relieve the pressure. I could save some money and
have some support from my family. As I got my
feet wet teaching and paying my new expenses, I cried
(01:42):
that Thanksgiving and gave Dad a big hug and kiss,
telling him how grateful I was and how much I
loved him. A day later, while sifting through a trunk
in my family's unfinished basement, I found a small stonenographer's notebook.
Its brown cover was worn and well traveled, with edges frayed.
(02:06):
I opened the notebook very slowly and deliberately. Its contents
were gradually revealed, like the plot of a mystery novel.
The practiced and perfect handwriting came into focus, and I
knew this writing to be my dad's.
Speaker 4 (02:24):
On April fifteenth, nineteen forty three, I took my examination
for the US Army. It was on this day that
I ate my first sandwich consisting of baloney.
Speaker 3 (02:39):
Was that my father.
Speaker 2 (02:41):
I had never seen him eat a baloney sandwich. In fact,
I know his menu by heart. Vegetables consisted of peas,
corn and baked beans, and any kind of potato. Meats
were always dry and overcooked. These were his meals and
thus hours Friday night was always tomato soup and grilled
(03:01):
cheese sandwiches. These are the foods that Dad liked, the
foods Mom cooked for him, and the foods that we
all ate and loved. We ate like our dad, all
six of us, much to my mother's chagrin.
Speaker 4 (03:18):
In the morning of April twenty second, my last day home,
I went up Carol Creek and caught seven beautiful trout,
my last as a civilian.
Speaker 2 (03:30):
When I was small, our family would visit Poppy and Frederick.
I used to stare at the stuffed fish that adorned
the dark, dusty shadowed walls in his house. The fish
hung as a testament to his youth and his sense
of adventure. My grandfather was a fisherman, and he taught
my father to fish.
Speaker 3 (03:50):
I have a great picture of.
Speaker 2 (03:51):
My dad standing with a fist full of fish, fanned
out for the photographer's film.
Speaker 3 (03:57):
Was this a picture of Dad?
Speaker 2 (03:58):
On the day my grandfather called the Big One.
Speaker 4 (04:04):
Our train ride took us through western Maryland, West Virginia, Ohio, Indiana, Kentucky, Tennessee,
and Alabama. We arrived at our new station, bart McClellan,
a very tired bunch of rookies. I got along very well,
eating most everything we got for meals, although not liking
(04:26):
it very much.
Speaker 2 (04:29):
His first big adventure via train, how exciting. With six kids,
our family's adventures now consisted of camping in western Maryland
for a week in Ocean City. We rode bikes each
morning on the boardwalk and had breakfast at Happy Jack's
pancake House. At least in Ocean City, Dad ate what
he wanted.
Speaker 4 (04:50):
I took the Air Cadet Exam the twelfth week of Basic.
The passing grade for the Cadet exam is eighty three,
and I made one hundred percent, the third highest grade.
On February sixteenth, nineteen forty four, I made my first
flight at the school, and by March eleventh, I had
(05:10):
completed ten hours of flying. I really loved flying.
Speaker 2 (05:16):
Wow, twenty one years old and learning to fly. I
didn't know Dad had ever phoned planes. Why didn't he
tell us? I remember when we were little, Dad took
us to a penny a pound day at the local airport.
For a penny a pound, we could go on an
airplane ride. I remember being frightened and not wanting to go,
Dad convinced me it would be okay, and once we
(05:38):
were in the air, I couldn't get enough for flying.
The houses and streets looked like a miniature Christmas village below.
No wonder Dad loved flying.
Speaker 4 (05:50):
Arrived at Santa Anna Army Airbase on the twenty third.
I'm to a very exciting trip across the US by first,
after taking the test for three straight days, I was
a classified pilot. But then the tragedy came an order
from Washington calling back all cadets were former Round four students,
(06:12):
and so my dreams of flying were crushed on April first,
nineteen forty four, by a single piece of paper.
Speaker 2 (06:20):
Well, I guess that's why my father didn't tell us
his dreams of becoming a pilot were shattered. What other
dreams did my father have for his life? Most of
what I know of Dad revolves around the time he
spent with his family.
Speaker 3 (06:33):
Were we a part of his life? Dream?
Speaker 1 (06:39):
And you've been listening to Sally Grove and she's talking
to us about how she came to know her father
and it came when she decided to move back in
with her family to try and get herself settled as
a young teacher and trying to make ends meet. She
finds a trunk and a notebook and the writing, Well,
(06:59):
it was all her dad's is handwriting. I never knew
he could fly, she said, when she found out he'd
learned to pilot planes at the age of twenty one.
Why didn't he tell us? Well, we're going to find out.
The answer to that question is so much more. Jali
Grove's story continues. Her father's story continues here on Our
(07:20):
American Stories. Lee Hibibe here the host of Our American Stories.
Every day on this show, we're bringing inspiring stories from
across this great country, stories from our big cities and
small towns. But we truly can't do the show without you.
(07:44):
Our stories are free to listen to, but they're not
free to make. If you love what you hear, go
to Ouramerican Stories dot com and click the donate button.
Give a little, give a lot. Go to Alamerican Stories
dot com and give. And we returned to Our American
(08:11):
Stories and to Sally Grove sharing the story of finding
her father's war diary and learning so much about him
that she did not know. Let's pick up where we
last left.
Speaker 4 (08:22):
Off January eleventh. We left the good old Terra Firmer
of the USA for Europe January twenty first, nineteen forty five.
We landed at Lajava, France. We had a cold reception
on landing, the temperature was below zero. We rode sixty
(08:43):
miles in open trucks to Camp Lucky Strike coldness ride
in my life. We arrived at camp at two am
frozen stuff. Our night was far from over yet, as
we had the pitch tents in the snow, and when
we finally did get to bed, they were too cold
to sleep.
Speaker 2 (09:01):
I took us history in high school, and I guess
I should have known that Dad fault in World War Two.
Still Dad never talked about the war.
Speaker 4 (09:09):
The camp of former German airfields, with a large concrete runway,
was infested with mines and booby traps. We trained in
snow and then knee deep mud for about a month,
making very hard marches. During that time, my feet were
frozen so badly that I couldn't wear shoes for several days.
Speaker 2 (09:33):
While studying history is nothing like reading a journal from
World War Two. They didn't talk about the cold and
the suffering. The soldiers went through in our textbook, feet
frozen so badly that you couldn't wear shoes. Thankfully, that
is a cold I have never known.
Speaker 4 (09:50):
On March twenty fifth, we moved up to the west
bank of the Rhine. We arrived at eight pm eight
and at ten thirty p with but two hours sleep,
we started our assault crossing for hours, our artillery had
been hammering the east bank, and now the forest was
a blazing inferno. Our company crept down, twisting trails to
(10:14):
the river's edge. As we reached the river bank, we
were fired upon by a hail of machine guns and
twenty millimeters, which pinned us to the ground for half
an hour. The railroad station to our front was ablaze
as a result of the firing. The second platoon tried
to launch several boats, but was mowed down before they
(10:36):
could load them. Finally, in desperation, Captain Brown asked for
a boatload of volunteers to try and make it across.
Our whole squad stepped forward.
Speaker 2 (10:50):
My dad was a part of the assault on the Rhine.
We learned so little about World War II in my
history class. We learned almost nothing about the Holocaust or
how the United States declared neutrality at the start of
World War two in Europe. What we did learn was
about troop movements. My limited memory tells me that the
assault on the Rhine was a big deal. It precipitated
(11:10):
the beginning of the end.
Speaker 4 (11:13):
We got out only about thirty yards before they spotted
our boat. Everything broke loose at us, but we kept
going halfway across, and by this time about two blocks downstream,
we again received heavy fire, but again followed through it.
Finally were about forty yards from the Jerry sign, right
(11:36):
opposite a high wall on which the machine guns were mounted.
This time the jug heads had our range and were
peppering the boats, so we decided to swim for it,
stripping off all equipment but our guns. We know of overborne.
I was in mid air when I felt a hot
(11:56):
sear in my shoulder. I found that I could not
use my left arm, but I managed to swim with
one arm to shore. I was the only one of
the seven in our boat that was hit. As we
hit the sandy beach, they resumed the firing on us,
and the engineer on our boat with us was hit
and fell at the water's edge. The rest of us
(12:16):
took cover at the base of a warm about twenty
five to thirty feet high.
Speaker 2 (12:21):
I've seen that scar on my dad's shoulder since I
was a kid. The scar is as much a part
of Dad as the dimple on his chin or his
chipped front tooth. I knew his tooth broke during a
childhood flight over the handlebars of his bike, and Mom
always said dad stimples made him look like Robert Mitcham,
a movie star from their generation. But the scarled his shoulder.
(12:45):
I knew nothing about the event that had caused it
until now.
Speaker 4 (12:49):
The engineer was in terrible agony and laid groaning and
praying in a blood and chilling voice, and could not
go to his aid as the Jerry's kept showering the
area with lead. A little later, however, we crept over
to him, but it was too late. A mullet had
hit his spine and he was dead.
Speaker 2 (13:12):
Dad saw a friend and a colleague die. I can't
imagine my father during such a tragic loss. Did a
soldier's training prepare them to go on when they'd lost
a friend.
Speaker 4 (13:23):
We made our way back to the safety of the
wall as shells were hitting directly out from us in
the water. About twenty yards away. We were pinned down
between two lines of fire, one from the Jerry's and
one from the US troops.
Speaker 3 (13:37):
This sounds like a scene from an old war movie.
Speaker 4 (13:42):
Payne feared my body. I don't know why, but one
of my first impulses was the spit the sea if
my lung was hit, which I guess it was not,
as I did not spit blood. I could see the
bullet holes in my jacket right at the point where
the sleeve and the shoulder seam is. I could not
find where the bullet left. Although my chest at the
(14:03):
heart area was very sore and full of blood as
well as swollen. My whole shirt was blood soaked, and
I feared I might bleed to death, although the blood
did not now seem to be running from the wound.
We lay very still along the wall. The hob nailed
boots and Jerryes sounded just above the wall, and we
(14:26):
could hear them loading their machine guns and talking in
low voices. My arm was stiff and throbbing now like
an engine.
Speaker 2 (14:37):
This wasn't an old John Wayne war movie. This battle
was real, and my dad was the main character. How
frightening it must have been for him, bleeding and in pain, waiting,
not knowing what would happened next. The design of his
future was out of his hands.
Speaker 4 (14:55):
Where I lay, there were two more of my buddies,
so I crawled back along the wall try to locate
the rest, but could not do so. The Jerry's must
have heard me, for just then a pebble dropped from
the wall about ten feet away. I realized that it
might not be a stone after all. I hugged the
(15:15):
ground as tightly as I could, pushing my body against him.
I also, in that split second, turned my face against
the wall. Then it happened, a blinding flash and a
deafening noise. I could neither see nor hear. Dirt flew
(15:37):
all over me.
Speaker 2 (15:40):
A grenade had taken my father's sight and his hearing,
A dark veil hanging over his bright blue eyes. How
it must have magnified his fear.
Speaker 4 (15:51):
I felt my face for I'm sure it must be bleeding.
But then my sight returned and gradually my hearing, although
my ears kept ringing. I looked up my money in
front of me, and his head was smeared blood as
well as his foot and legs. I shook him, thinking
he was dead, but he moved. Then another grenade, not
(16:15):
quite as close, hit the ground. A blinding flash and
blast followed. However it did not touch us.
Speaker 2 (16:23):
Concern for others, even in the face of adversity, does
not surprise me. Although my family didn't have much growing up,
we never did without thanks to my father. Dad had
just three suits, one for winter, one for summer, and
wonder where when the in season suit was getting cleaned.
His children, on the other hand, went shopping each September
(16:44):
for new school clothes, and each spring we shined in
our new Easter outfits.
Speaker 4 (16:52):
I knew then that they would keep grenading us till
we were dead and came out. I never prayed so
hard and so desperately in my life. I know not anyone,
no matter what his feeling, put in the same situation,
would ever deny God.
Speaker 2 (17:12):
I have never known a more loving man than my father,
so I'm not surprised that he professes his belief in God. Still,
he never talked to us about his faith.
Speaker 1 (17:24):
And we're listening to Sally Grove tell the story of
her father's service in World War Two, service he didn't
share with his family, but that she found out about
stumbling upon a notebook a memoir. When we come back
more of Sally Grove's story of her father here on
our American Stories. And we're back with our American stories
(18:11):
and the story of Sally Grove's father and how Sally
came to discover his life through reading his war diary.
When we last left off, she was reading about her
father hiding out in World War Two from the Jerrys.
Speaker 4 (18:28):
In those few minutes, which seemed a year, I saw
visions of my favorite fishing places and hunting territory. Saw
them clearly as if I were there. I pictured Mom,
Dad and all the family, as well as all my
friends who I was sure I would never see again.
Speaker 2 (18:52):
My Dad's sister and Kitty told me that Dad was
her best friend. They were the closest in age of
all their siblings and played together as children. They fished
in Carrol Creek and rode their bikes through the streets
of Frederick. I once read a letter that Dad wrote
to his father. He signed his letter love your fishing
buddy Tommy.
Speaker 4 (19:17):
Again, a grenade dropped within twenty feet and I pressed
into the earth. A voice spoke and broken English, Hello, boys,
come out, we know you are there I scarcely breathe,
or each breath sounded like a bellows, at least in
(19:38):
my ears. I was soaked to the skin in blood
and water, and was shaking like a leaf in the wind.
I thought of my first aid kit with its soulfa
drug to keep my wound from infection. Yet I dared
not move, or every move brought a grenade.
Speaker 2 (19:56):
The waiting must have been torture. Dad knew that the
Germans were close and they had his life in their hands.
Speaker 4 (20:03):
Night started to fade, empty boats floated. By then we
heard footsteps on the beach. The Jerrys were afraid to
come down in the darkness with fear of ambush. They
had waited until they had light enough to see and
then investigated me. Were prisoners.
Speaker 2 (20:24):
I can't imagine Dad's fear when he heard footsteps approaching.
The soldier became a prisoner.
Speaker 4 (20:32):
At least the constant fear of uncertainty and falling grenades
was now over. We had lain under the wall from
twelve till daylight, four and a half hours of terrible
uncertainty awaiting death. Our capture would possibly help.
Speaker 3 (20:52):
How did we not know this? Dad?
Speaker 2 (20:54):
Relinquish one state of uncertainty. For another, perhaps being a
prisoner of war was better than laying in wait for
an unknown fate.
Speaker 4 (21:05):
We were searched and stripped of all equipment, but our clothes,
even our first eight pouches were taken, as well as
our cigarettes, water rations, and anything that Jerry's decided they wanted.
I refused to give up my paybook, and finally they
agreed to let me have it. I then tried to
(21:25):
get the other fellow's books back, and they would not
allow on this.
Speaker 2 (21:30):
Why was his paybook so important? What did it mean
to a soldier? Certainly a soldier got paid, whether they
presented a paybook or not. Thankfully, by the time I
knew my dad, he had given up cigarettes for a pipe.
I know that pipes are bad for you, but to
this day, pipe smoke makes me think of my father.
Speaker 4 (21:49):
We had four gards for the eight of us, and
we were forced to carry a fifty pound box with us.
We climbed up a sneap rocky ridge just before the
sun peeped over the horizon. The going was rough. Those
hills were hundreds of feet high and very steep. Our
(22:11):
artillery had begun firing again and we were in constant
danger from our own shells. Me were really snared. I
never thought we wouldn't make it through their alive.
Speaker 2 (22:25):
I'd seldom see my father's show roll emotion, except that
is when Dad made a decision to reverse a doctor's
recommendation for our family. I was ten when my brother,
Craig was born. We didn't know it for several years,
but Craig's brain had been damaged during the birth process.
Craig was developmentally disabled. The doctors told my parents that
(22:46):
Craig and our family would fare best if Craig moved
into a group home. Unfamiliar with the plight ahead, my
parents followed the doctor's recommendation and placed Craig in Camporn Home.
Our family wasn't allowed to see Craig for a month.
When we finally visited, it was raining. Song Sung Blue
played on the radio. My family's hearts mirrored the rain
(23:10):
as we visited with Craig. My father decided that doctors.
Speaker 3 (23:14):
Do not know best.
Speaker 2 (23:15):
Craig came home with us that very day, and my
family never looked back.
Speaker 4 (23:23):
A cold March rain came to add to our discomfort.
My arm was now stiff, but the bleeding had stopped.
My buddies head and leg were giving him plenty of trouble.
We had to slow the pace and take turns helping
him alone. We often went through forests on trails and
dirt roads, tanks and guns concealed in the forest. We
(23:47):
were constantly wet and chilled. Our guards stopped at a
house in the next town and ate while our stomachs
just ground with hunger. And four pm we came to
a little germantown and sat down on the guards talk
to a German captain. We had been walking since five
(24:08):
a m. And we were tired and hungry. Bunch of Joe's.
Speaker 2 (24:16):
Dad had been going for at least twenty hours straight.
I doubt anything that life dealt my father after the
war could compare with what he had experienced in Germany.
No wonder, my dad was always grateful for the small
things in life. He taught us all to stop and
savor the view, to hear the calls of Bob White's
and Whipper Wills echoing in the air at sunset, and
(24:38):
to know that in our family we were rich beyond money.
Speaker 4 (24:49):
One at a time, into the house, the Jerry's captain
interrogated us. I was next to be questioned, and was
glad my time had come, for the uncertainty of waiting
was terrible. I went into the room and the officer
behind a large desk asked, what's your name? I answered
(25:11):
with my name, rank and serial number. He then asked
my outfit. I wouldn't answer, so he told me the
answer the division and also the regiment I was from.
I was not surprised that he knew the division, but
I was given a great surprise when he also named
the regiment. I still cannot understand how he found out
(25:35):
unless he forced one of the other fellows to talk,
and I doubt or found the answer on a letter
or paper of some kind someone was carrying. He then
asked whether we were Panzer's troop flyers or infantry, and
I guess then that he didn't know much about our outfit.
(25:57):
I refused to tell him, and he got very much
mad and threatened to hit me unless I talked. He
even drew back his arm an emotion to strike me,
but it turned out that he did not strike. I
was very mad when he threatened me, and I'm sure
that if he had struck me, I would have gone
over the desk after him and killed him. For I
(26:19):
know I could not. I've taken a slap without fighting back.
It is good that he didn't, or I surely would
have been killed if I had dangled with him.
Speaker 2 (26:32):
I can't even imagine my dad having the thought of
killing someone. He was the gentlest soul I've ever known.
Speaker 1 (26:41):
And you're listening to Sally Grove tell the story of
her father, and along the way some dramatic readings from
that memoir from that book about the war, his war diaries. Essentially,
how did we not know all of this? She said
about her dad. Perhaps being a prisoner of war was
(27:01):
better than being in battle in an unknown state. No wonder,
my dad was excited by the little things in his life,
having gone through what he went through. When we come
back more of this remarkable story, Sally Groves story of
her father here on our American Stories, And we returned
(27:40):
to our American stories and the final portion of Sally
Grove's story, the story of how she came to know
her father through discovering his diary from his time serving
in World War Two. When we last left off, she
was reading about her father being interrogated by the Jerry's captain.
Let's pick up the rest of the story.
Speaker 4 (28:04):
After he had finished questioning all of us, he said
that since we would not talk, we would have nothing
to eat until we decided to talk. We waited for
about two hours in the rain and cold march wind
on the gardens ate, and we looked on with watering
mouths and hungry eyes. Finally we were told to go
(28:26):
in the house. We were brought in a small bowl
of cold potatoes, about one apiece, but they vanished in
a flash, serving themly to sharpen our hunger.
Speaker 2 (28:38):
Gosh, Dad hadn't eaten since eight pm the night before.
He'd gone twenty four hours without food.
Speaker 4 (28:46):
About half an hour later, the three of us that
were wounded were told that a truck was waiting to
take us to a hospital and the rest would march
on to the concentration camp. I almost wished to go
on to the constant tration camp rather than split up
went the rest of the fellows, but I would not
have been allowed, So we parted, our little group that
(29:09):
had been through so much together.
Speaker 2 (29:12):
What would have happened had he gone to the concentration camp?
Would things have turned out differently? Thank God, his life
took the turns it did, or I would not be
here to tell you my father's story.
Speaker 4 (29:27):
It was dark, and we rode for ages in the
small truck and went through countless towns. Finally, about eleven
thirty pm, we were taken into a large German house
which was being used as a jerry Field hospital, and
we gave our name, rank, and serial number to a
Jerry orderly at a desk, and then sat down among
(29:51):
half a dozen wounded Jerry's to wait our turn with
the doctor. I was taken into a room equipped for
operating our radio. He's playing an American song, the first
American song I had hearned for months. A beautiful, young,
blondheaded girl was helping the doctor. He told me it
(30:12):
was his daughter. I laid on a table and was
stripped to the waist, then strapped down hand and foot.
The doctor drew out a large scalpel and laughed as
he drew it across my throat and agnotion to cut it.
If he had not been laughing, it would have been
very much afraid. But I knew it was a joke,
(30:32):
so I laughed back.
Speaker 2 (30:36):
My father had a great sense of humor, a gift
he gave us all. We still laugh when we think
about my dad learning to play tennis for all our lives.
My father came home from work and changed from his
suit into blue jeans. Blue jeans were his primary play clothes,
so when Dad played tennis, he played in jeans. That
was fine in cool weather, but when the mercury skyrocketed
(30:59):
along with my dad's passion for tennis, the problem had
to be fixed. For Father's Day, my siblings and I
bought Dad tennis shorts. My father appeared in the hallway
to show them to us. The boxers were hanging inches
below the shorts. That being a time before it was
chic to have boxers showing beneath shorts. The whole family
(31:20):
dissolved into laughter. Dad not only graduated to shorts that summer,
but was introduced to briefs as well.
Speaker 4 (31:32):
The doctor said, don't feel so good now, do you eat?
Old mayn broken English, and he had studied medicine in Chicago,
and I felt a little better.
Speaker 2 (31:49):
Sadly, this is where Dad's war diary stopped. He didn't
explain how long he was held captive. When he was
liberated from the Germans, where he recuperated from his wounds
or when he returned to the States. Thankfully, my father
had lived through these horrendous events and lived to write
a part of his story. Slowly, after reading the last page,
(32:13):
I closed the stenographer's notebook. My dad was a writer.
This was my father. But outside the lens of my
experience were his memories too.
Speaker 3 (32:23):
Horrible to speak?
Speaker 2 (32:24):
Did Dad write this journal to have an outlet to
express his feelings, hoping that in the writing of the words,
the horror would be erased from his memory. My mind's
camera had always framed a gentle, quiet man. The man
I had known came home each afternoon.
Speaker 3 (32:41):
By four thirty.
Speaker 2 (32:43):
He took a nap, his eyes closing and his body
surrendering to a fast, deep sleep the very moment his
head made contact with the mattress on my parents carved
pineapple post bed. As kids, we rushed to see Dad
when he came home. If we were two seconds late,
o sh sharing had to wait until dinner. At five,
(33:05):
I clutched the notebook to my chest, my heart racing
as I slowly ascended the stairs. Now that I knew
all of this, I couldn't pretend that I didn't know.
Standing on the landing. Images of my dad were rolling
in my brain and in my heart. The camera lens
had changed from close up to white angle, or had
(33:26):
a change for wine angle to close up. My vision
included a man who had suffered greatly and had put
this pain behind him, choosing to live. I opened the
door and found various members of my family sitting around
our house. I relaxed my grip on the notebook, looked
at my mom, at each of my siblings, knowing that
(33:47):
I knew what they did not. I don't remember how
it happened that day, but I shared Dad's notebook with
my family. You see, my father died when I was twenty,
the day after Thanksgiving. He had gone hunting, fell out
(34:07):
of a tree stand and hid his head. They tell
us he died instantly. I remember vividly, too vividly, the
night that my father's station wagon, along with another car,
pulled into the driveway and my aunt Kitty got out
and walked to the door. I assumed that Dad had
finally gotten his deer. When in anticipation, I opened the
(34:29):
door to my aunt and uncle.
Speaker 3 (34:30):
I knew I was wrong.
Speaker 2 (34:32):
Their faces said everything. I don't know how I held
it together. That night, I told my aunt. I would
tell my mother when she returned home from her quick
grocery run. Somehow my family made it through that night,
and then days and nights that followed the next day,
the day after my father died, I would descend the
(34:53):
stairs to the basement. I would go through my father's belongings,
wanting so much to touch him, to hear, to know
he was there. I would open a trunk and find
a small stenographer's notebook. It's brown cover, worn, well traveled,
its edges frayed. My father's war diary. I would learn
(35:15):
things about my father that I had never thought to ask.
Some questions to this day remain unanswered. Still, the journal
provided me with a glimpse into a man I didn't know.
And this is how I came to know my father.
Speaker 1 (35:37):
And a terrific job on the production by Madison Dericot,
and a special thanks to Sally Grove for sharing her
father's story and in a very real sense, her own story.
So often we learn much more about our parents as
we get older, not just through experience walking through their
shoes as we raise children of our own, but often
(35:58):
discovering things about them that they didn't share and that
generation of parents, well, they weren't big sharers. They were
trying to protect us in the end, from the things
they'd gone through. And that's what her dad was doing
for his daughter, for his family. He'd survived the mess,
the carnage, the chaos. Why I impose that on anyone Moreover,
(36:19):
so many of those World War two vets, well, they
had a place to go, call the American Legion and
the VFW Hall's and that's where they could go and
share the stories of loss, of grief, of what so
many called the terrors. And I think it helped them
all get along doing it this way, moving forward in
life while periodically getting together with comrades and sharing that camaraderie.
(36:41):
I think it's what our Iraq veterans and our Afghanistan
veterans did not have that our World War II veterans did.
The scars on my dad's shoulder, she had never understood
where they came from. I'd seen them all my life,
but knew nothing about the event that caused that scar
until the diary. It didn't explain how long he was
(37:04):
held captive, his diary and how he would return to
the States. So there was still some unfinished business, some mystery.
By the way, there's not always anything wrong with having
some of that mystery. My father suffered greatly and chose
to put that suffering behind him and move on. He
(37:24):
died when she was twenty years old. Dear hunting. Imagine
this getting through World War two and dying falling out
of a deer stand. I don't know how I held
it together that night, but the next day I would
descend down to the basement and touch the things that
were a part of his life. A beautiful story of
(37:46):
the story of Sally Grove's father, and in the end,
Sally Grove herself. Here on our American Stories
Host
Lee Habeeb
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