Today I was looking through old posts and diaries, trying to decide what to write about for my next Looking Back series and I found myself thinking about a time during my own childhood – I guess once the memory takes a backward glance, it gets curious about what else it can root out to look at and this is what it found today.
My family moved to Monahans, Texas in the winter of 1942 when I was eight years old. We lived in a tiny house while my father looked for work. Once he was settled in a permanent job, we moved into a two bedroom house with a lovely yard and a nice big garage. I got to have my very first pet, a black mixed breed dog named Moe.
Soon after I started school in Monahans the teachers decided I should move up to the fourth grade as I was considerably ahead of those in the third grade at the time. It wasn’t the best move because while I had no trouble doing the work, socially I simply didn’t fit in with fourth graders. Plus I was the new kid on the block, my hair was too curly and red, not to mention that I had buck teeth at that time -- well, you get the picture. Not the most fun time for an eight year old. On top of that I was an only child with parents who were far more absorbed in their own problems to spend a lot of time with me. Their relationship wasn't good; my father had frequent affairs and they quarreled constantly. At that time, it seemed to me that they always looked at me with a puzzled expression as if trying to figure out just where in the hell I'd come from in the first place. At least that was how it felt to me at the time.
During this same period a huge new air base was being built in a tiny community about twenty miles from Monahans on Highway 80, about 230 miles east of El Paso. The little town was called Pyote and the air base was nicknamed "Rattlesnake Bomber Base" for the numerous rattlesnake dens that were uncovered during its construction.
For many men in the Air Force at that time it was their last station in the states before heading overseas. The first troops were assigned within a month, well before the base was completed. Troops and civilian technicians poured in, and the population of the base grew steadily to a peak of over 6,500 in October 1944.
Within four months of its opening, the base had become the largest bomber installation in the country. Despite morale problems caused by isolation and the shortage of off-base recreation and of dependents' housing, Pyote achieved a distinguished record in molding inexperienced individuals into effective bomber crews.
And it was this lack of recreation and dependents’ housing that brought about an enormous change in my life. My parents rented out my bedroom to one couple from the base, then they put three beds and some second hand furniture into our garage. My father found an old piece of carpeting and my mother made curtains for the windows. The family car was parked behind the garage on blocks as the tires had worn out and it was difficult if not impossible to replace them during that time. When the garage was more or less livable, the wives of three additional pilots/bomber crew members moved in. The men themselves were required to live on the base, but when they got off in the evenings they would come into town and spend as many hours as possible with their wives. I can still hear them singing and laughing as a bunch of them would take off down the street, on foot, to search for a cafe, a bar, whatever -- there weren't many, so the choice was limited.
But suddenly, I had brothers and sisters! These guys and their wives were, for the most part, a long way from home, it was isolated, it was barren, it was windy with vicious sandstorms, cold, cold in the winter and hotter than hell in the summer. But instead of complaining, they all made the most of their time there – primarily because of being able to see each other as much as possible before the men shipped out into the unknown, not knowing whether they would make it back from the war or not. And I became the little sister to all of them and they spoiled me royally and, needless to say, I loved it.
One of the pilots brought his fiance to town and they had their wedding in the small chapel on the base and I was the flower girl. I was one of the few kids in Monahans during that time that had CHOCOLATE candy! And bubble gum – gum, period! All those delightful goodies that were so sparse and hard to get during the war. Needless to say, this improved my social standing in school considerably.
The couples moved in and they moved out, the men went overseas, wives returned to their homes all over the country and another group would move in. I slept on the sofa bed for nearly three years and loved every minute of it! The guys wrote me letters and sent me presents from overseas, some that were sent to the South Pacific even made me jewelry out of shells they found. Their wives stayed in touch with us for the remainder of the war. Many celebrated the holidays with us and they were my best holidays ever. I had never felt so loved!
Before the war came to an end there was gradually less need for off base housing and I finally moved back into my room, the car moved back into the garage. I knew it was a good thing we were winning the war and when it was finally over I jumped up and down and celebrated along with everyone else, but I missed my “family”.
We continued to hear from many of those that had shared our house. Some of the men didn’t make it back and I cried for them. After the war a few of the couples actually returned to Monahans to visit us and it was wonderful. We heard from many of them for years.
I hadn’t thought of that time in many, many years. It’s been another fun look back.
12 comments:
Glad to see you had a happy childhood. Can't say the same for myself, though. When I look back, I feel melancholy.
How interesting! We must be close to the same age. I remember those years too.
You gained a family, and I lost one, more or less. My brother was 11 years older than I, and he was in the service for 4 years - England, then Belgium, Luxemborg, Germany. I thought it was great writing Vmails, and it was a hoot having blackout curtains.
But your experiences sound like much more fun.
What a coincidence! I am just writing a WWII series in my blog!!
What a sweet story! Such an interesting life...I hope you are working on your book
You really took me back, Sylvia. My folks had a cottage court and there were more Gi's and their wives than cottages, so my step dad had two sides of the lodge building made into five apartments. I can still see the faces of some of the wives and their husbands. They spent a lot of time in our living quarters and my Mom got some great recipes from all over the U. S.
Thanks for sharing your memories. Memories are a wonderful thing, especially the good ones.
:-)
That was fascinating to read...the bad and the good. Childhood is such a big part of who we are today.
That was a great story! I was born in 1944, so I have on experience with being so involved in a war effort.
What I most enjoyed were your reactions. As a child who needed love and attention, you saw the loss of your room as a great trade off for the friendship you got in return.
War and necessity make for lasting friendships. You found the silver lining in that cloud back then, when many would have been complaining about the crowding. From reading your blog the past few months, I suspect that you approach life looking for the good and not complaining about the bad. Delightful memories you have shared here!
I enjoy reading all the posts remembering the second war time and seeing all the different stories. I was in Paris at that time and remember when the Americans came. My mother and I walked all day with the people on Liberation Day (August 1944). I was 4 years old and I still remember all the people singing, the happiness everywhere in Paris, people kissing, and such a crowd (unfortunately my father had been badly injured in the war, so he could not walk with us.)
I almost missed this post. I'm so glad that I found it. Very interesting stuff. WWII ended a little over twenty years before I was born but I find that era fascinating.
nostalgia! wonderfully posted!
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