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    Grandpa What Did You Do in the War?
    Grandpa What Did You Do in the War?
    Grandpa What Did You Do in the War?
    Ebook69 pages58 minutes

    Grandpa What Did You Do in the War?

    By Don Ball

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    About this ebook

    "I wrote the book primarily for my kids and grandkids. It was a difficult task for me. It brought back old memories that I thought I had erased from my mind. It took me twelve years to complete it due to the return of some of the memories that are not in the book."
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherTrafford Publishing
    Release dateJun 26, 2012
    ISBN9781466940635
    Grandpa What Did You Do in the War?

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      Book preview

      Grandpa What Did You Do in the War? - Don Ball

      GRANDPA

      WHAT DID YOU

      DO IN THE WAR?

      04-23-2012_276_Page_01.jpg

      DON BALL

      Order this book online at www.trafford.com

      or email orders@trafford.com

      Most Trafford titles are also available at major online book retailers.

      ©

      Copyright 2012 Don Ball.

      All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author.

      ISBN: 978-1-4669-4062-8 (sc)

      ISBN: 978-1-4669-4064-2 (hc)

      ISBN: 978-1-4669-4063-5 (e)

      Library of Congress Control Number: 2012909822

      Trafford rev. 08/22/2012

      7-Copyright-Trafford_Logo.ai

      www.trafford.com

      North America & international

      toll-free: 1 888 232 4444 (USA & Canada)

      phone: 250 383 6864 ♦ fax: 812 355 4082

      CONTENTS

      CHAPTER ONE

      CHAPTER TWO

      CHAPTER THREE

      CHAPTER FOUR

      CHAPTER FIVE

      CHAPTER SIX

      CHAPTER SEVEN

      CHAPTER EIGHT

      CHAPTER NINE

      Don1945.JPG04-23-2012_276_Page_03.jpg

      CHAPTER ONE

      October 2, 1941, it was my seventeenth birthday. I wasn’t doing very well in high school. I had lost interest in going to school. I wanted something to happen in my life.

      I told my folks that I wanted to join the navy. My mom wasn’t the least bit in favor of it, but my dad was. My dad was a WW I veteran and had served in France. He said that it would be good for me, and as it turned out, I didn’t regret it one bit.

      The day after my seventeenth birthday, my dad went with me to the navy recruiting office. We filled out about a ton of paperwork, and I took the written test and passed it with a very good score.

      Next came the physical. All went well until the eye test—I failed it. They told me to get some glasses and come back in two or three months and try again. To say the least, I was devastated. My world had come to an end.

      My dad spent hard-earned money that he couldn’t afford to spend to get me a pair of glasses. I wore the glasses for about six weeks and went back to the recruiter and passed with flying colors. I got in the navy!

      On December 1, 1941, I was sworn into the navy and left the next day on the train for San Diego, California, and boot camp. There were about a dozen of us from the Seattle area all going together. I didn’t know any of the other guys, but we soon got acquainted with one another and started talking about what might be in store for us when we got to the boot camp. Most of us were beginning to get a little bit scared at this point.

      We arrived at the train depot in San Diego in the middle of the night, and we were met by some petty officers (PO) that herded us to a bus to take us to the boot camp. The petty officers let us know right off the bat that we were the scum of the earth and all we had to know for the time being was Aye aye, sir and No, sir. When we got to the base, we were given a mattress cover, pillowcase, and a blanket and told to hit the sack. Reveille would be at 0500 hours.

      I don’t think any of us slept very much that night. The apprehension was too great. We had no idea what lay in store for us from the next morning on. We were 1, 500 miles from home and alone!

      On December 4, 1941, at 0500, all hell broke loose. The lights in the barracks came on, and our lead petty officer came through the barracks pounding on a GI can (garbage can) with a night stick and screaming at the top of his voice, Get out of those sacks, you miserable bunch of misfits. Hit the deck. Muster in ten minutes in front of the barracks.

      Ten minutes later, our ragtag bunch was somewhat lined up in the street in front of the barracks, wondering what was going to happen next. Our lead PO got us all headed in the same direction down the street. None of us were in step with one another, but our leader didn’t say anything about it. About three blocks down the street, I began to smell food. At that point, I was so hungry I could have eaten the south end of a northbound skunk. We arrived at the mess hall and got in line for breakfast. Our first meal in the navy was great. We had french toast, butter, syrup, sausage, scrambled eggs, coffee or milk, and an apple. Seconds were not allowed.

      From the mess hall, we were taken to the barber shop for a thirty-second haircut. That

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