Blogengeezer,
In 1944, my Fourth Grade teacher in Atlanta Georgia, Mrs. Herring, brought her deceased husband’s Purple Heart Medal for our class to see. I have never forgotten that, even as I learned from her of the British debtor settlers at Savannah’s Yamacraw Bluffs, under James Oglethorpe, and of their good relations with indian Chief Tomochichi.
My aunt, now in her 90′s, with Alzheimers, gave up her teaching job to become an air-traffic controller in 1942. A brave McNeil lass from Scotland’s Barra.
We lived in Stratford Connecticut, as my father worked at General Electric at Bridgeport. They installed new radars on shot-up ships at the Brooklyn Naval Yard. We could see Long Island Sound from our dining room window, and pulled the drapes to prevent the patrolling German U-boats from getting a navagational fix.
I was a boy, but I remember WWII. It was part of my life, and I cannot undo it. My God we admired the British and the punishment they took and their heroism and stoicism.
But now is a different world, with more feckless people who have fogotten the ’40s.
They will pay dearly. We are glad that we are old.
Thank goodness for Barnes Wallace and Guy Gibson. And many more.
