DALLAS COOUNTY WW II VETERANS

Note: Proud Heritage Vol. III by the Dallas County Pioneer Association contains all the following stories in addition to many more. This hardcover book contains over 350 pages with over 100 photos. Click on Publications Link to order online.

George A. Riek
30th Division, 117th Regiment
3rd Battalion
I left Dallas on a troop train and boarded the USS America at the Port of Boston. I thought, "What a small ship." Later I learned that it was the largest ship in the American fleet. It was not only big; it was also fast. We arrived in Liverpool, England in about four days. Then we traveled by train across England to Southampton, where we crossed the English Channel on a very small ship. While aboard ship we slept in hammocks that were hooked to the wall and hung over tables. The same area served as our dining room during the day.

The Germans had already destroyed many of the ports along the English Channel in France. We docked at Utah[KLM1] Beach and were trucked to a staging area and had just pitched our tents when shots rang out. All of the more-experienced soldiers immediately hit the ground, but the new recruits continued standing and looking around in order to see what was happening. Many servicemen were severely injured and had to be shipped out. Our first lesson in warfare was learned that day.

Our next mode of transportation was 2 1/2 ton trucks. We traveled through Paris, at night with our lights out. We couldn't see a thing. We drove on through Belgium and crossed the corner of Holland and then into Germany. We dug our foxholes in the yard of a machine shop, but later moved inside the shop after night fell. The Germans had seen us digging earlier in the day and bombarded our foxholes that night. We would all have been killed had we not moved out.

We later moved into a German housing district, which we called "Paper City." I was assigned to the 30th Division and sent farther into Germany for an attack. From a distance, the German soldiers looked to be only about six inches tall. We continued moving in, but the Germans retreated. We moved forward for another mile and then stayed for about ten days in a small town with about six soldiers assigned to each house.

The Battle of the Bulge had started by that time, and we were trucked to Belgium. We unloaded in a small town and were sent up into a wooded mountain area. There were dead bodies all over the ground. I'll never forget seeing a German soldier sitting on the ground with his gun still in hand and aimed straight ahead. He had been shot in the head, but his body remained in a fighting position.

When I got back home, I found many people fascinated with the city of Paris. I was constantly asked about Paris, but couldn't tell them anything at all, since my first trip was made at night in total darkness and my return trip was made in the back of an ambulance with shrapnel in my backside.

Even though I proudly served my country, I was sure proud to get back home.

On The Homefront
By Frances James
Those of us who did not "fight" in World War II were still involved in a different way in the war effort on the homefront.

First, we had to find a home - which was not easy, as only a few houses and apartments were being built. Rents were frozen and no one was moving. Many families doubled up, which to say the least, was usually a strain on all concerned.

In 1940 there was a fear that Dallas County might be bombed! To keep the "enemy" from finding us, we were required to keep all shades, blinds, and curtains closed after dark. It was really dark. Neighborhood volunteers went up and down the streets to ensure no light shone from the houses. We had a small radio that sat on a small table in front of a window. One night the neighborhood watchman knocked on our front door and cautioned us that the light from the tubes in the radio was shining through the window!

Food stamps were issued by the federal government for certain items, as hoarders were buying up a variety of supplies and selling them at much higher prices. Different shortages appeared from time to time. For instance, shortages of toilet paper, paper towels, and even black pepper were soon noted. Bacon was one of the most sought-after items, which would require going from store to store and perhaps flirting with the butcher! Sugar was another commodity that caused much effort to be expended. There was a formula that had been determined based on the number of members of the family. One particular friend used her sugar allotment to make jelly. She bought grapes and worked very hard in the hot kitchen (no air-conditioning, yet). When her husband came in, he reminded her she could have purchased jelly - it was not rationed!

Gasoline rationing was another problem. The crooks figured out all sorts of ways to get around the allotment. Depending on what your work status was, stamps were issued to get you back and forth to the job. That was it! The buses ran periodically, and taking the children to the doctor or shopping with children and riding the bus was usually an event.

The call was sent out for volunteers to work at the fire station signing up all men over eighteen. The paper work was filled out and one of the questions asked was if the person had any scars or birthmarks. Many of the men were more than willing to unbutton their shirts or whatever to show you. It would have worked verbally, if they would have just listened to the instructions.
Interesting assignment!

Bud's Best War Souvenir
By Nellie O'Connell
1945, Ensign J.J. "Bud" O'Connell was sent to Harvard University Business School for four months before he was sent to the island of Saipan, to be in charge of the Supply Depot. Ships docked there for replacement of equipment.

Bud's commanding officer had a sailboat that he allowed Bud to use whenever they were not busy, and Bud decided that he would make one for himself. He used wood that was not needed and discarded material for sails. He found an old piece of teakwood that he made into a mast and fashioned sail clips from pieces of metal.

When the boat was finished he sailed it out of the harbor and discovered that the mast was too tall for his 14-foot boat; the wind was too much for the boat and it capsized. He had a terrible time getting it righted and back to the dock, but he learned to compensate for the error and sailed often.

Bud was determined to have his boat sent home, and when he found a captain of a ship who would accept the cargo, he built a box for his boat and a box for the mast. The captain got them onto the ship and that is how he managed to get it back to the States.

When the two huge boxes arrived at his mother's home, the truck drivers said they didn't know how in the world they could get the boxes off the trailer and into the garage. Mrs. O'Connell told them that her son had made the boat while he was on Saipan, and the men said, "Well, Mrs. O'Connell, if your son could get this boat from Saipan to Dallas, we can sure get it into the garage." And they did.

When Bud came home in 1946, we put the boat out on White Rock Lake. It was tethered to a buoy, and every time we went out to the lake to sail, Bud would have to row out in the dinghy, dive under the boat, and turn it upright to bring that heavy mast up. Whenever there was wind on the Lake, the heavy mast would cause the boat to capsize.

We had a lot of fun sailing that little problem boat, and didn't sell it for several years. Bud had been smitten with the sailing bug because of his little boat, and he later bought a 13-foot Lone Star sailboat, then a 20-foot Gulf Coast sailboat. What fun it was!

Bud was my means of getting into the DCPA. We were married fifty years in 1992, and he died 71/2 months after our anniversary. He was descended from pioneers Catherine Talbot and William Potter.

Bernard Coffey - Service Record
By Mildred Coffey
Bernie began his service to his country in World War II on November 6, 1941. He was sent to the Induction Center at Fort Sill, Oklahoma. From there he went to Camp Roberts Training Center in San Luis Obispo, California, spending Christmas there (1941). From San Luis Obispo, they were moved to Fort Ord, Salinas, California and assigned to the 7th Infantry Division, 40th Field Artillery Battalion. Due to the concern following the attack on Pearl Harbor, they worked up and down the Coast on Guard Duty.

He was assigned and trained as a Forward Observer. However, Bernie noticed that the Medic assigned to his unit hardly knew how to take a Band-Aid apart. As a Boy Scout, a great deal of training in First Aid was required. He had been appointed as the Aid Station Captain, making splints for broken limbs and applying tourniquets for arterial bleeding at Camp Wisdom and for two years had been the Assistant Camp Director there. With all of that training in his background, he approached the Medical Officer and was immediately transferred to the Medical Unit as a Medical Technician. He was sent to Beaumont General Hospital in El Paso for additional operating room training and for training in nursing care on wards. He spent his second Christmas (1942) there in El Paso. Then back to California and in March of 1943, he was shipped to Alaska. That was a surprise for all of the men as they had been receiving training in desert warfare while in California. Bernie's unit arrived in Alaska on Easter Sunday and was a part of the American forces in the major battle, which secured the Aleutian Island of Attu from the Japanese on May 30, 1943. There were other major battles while there, before they departed Alaska in September.

From Alaska, they were sent to Hawaii, arriving the latter part of 1943. There Bernie received advanced surgical training in a Field Hospital. Christmas of 1943 was spent in Hawaii.

That was followed by the battle of Kwajalein and later to the Philippines, where they fought in the battle of Leyte, October 1, 1944, at 153 degrees and 57 minutes N.E. of New Guinea. They were on LST #605. Christmas of 1944 was spent in the Philippines.

The battle of Okinawa followed in April of 1945. Their foxholes were near a native cemetery with many crypts. In one of his letters, Bernie stated, "If the shelling is as bad tonight as it was last night, it's going to be MOVE OVER MUMMY!"

Bernie was offered a Commission, but at that time the Point System came into being as a Military use in discharging. With ample points, he could come home without committing himself to more years; four years away from his family and friends had been a long time.

Shipped to Fort Lewis, Washington, on the USS General Mann, they arrived October 8, 1945. Honorable Discharge was at Fort Bliss, Texas, on October 17, 1945.

He always gave much credit for his survival in the major battles to the Boy Scout training he had received. As most other Veterans, he did not discuss the horrors of the many experiences he had. Even at the Reunions, the men did not discuss those tragic, unhappy events but seemed to rejoice in seeing each other again. A real, sincere bond existed among them.

Bernard M. "Bernie" Coffey

Recognition:
* Philippine Liberation Campaign Ribbon with two Bronze Stars
* American Defense Service Medal
* American Campaign Medal
* Marksman Badge
* Asiatic Pacific Campaign Medal with four Bronze Stars and Arrowhead
* World War II Victory Medal

James Walter Tinsley, Jr
By Sue (Tinsley) Wilkinson
The first born and the eldest of four children of James Walter and Eula Ellen (Ellis) Tinsley was born on June 29, 1924 in Dallas, Dallas County, Texas. He was 17 when he joined the United States Navy on June 25, 1941, five months before the attack on Pearl Harbor. The family was living in East Dallas on Peak Street at the time.

James, who was known by all as "Jr.", had decided that he wanted a career in the Navy and was especially interested in flying. He took his training in San Diego, California and was appointed Aviation Machinist Mate Third Class on September 1, 1942. He was assigned to Carrier Aircraft Service Unit # 5 Bombing Squadron Two. He served on the U.S.S. Lexington, known as the Queen of Flat Tops. While on this assignment and after the United States entered the war, he saw action in the South Pacific. During the Battle of the Coral Sea, the Lexington took a direct Japanese torpedo hit which ultimately sank the ship. The Captain gave the order to abandon ship. James was among the survivors of this disaster. After a short leave home, July 21, 1942 James was re-assigned to Carrier Aircraft Service Unit Five and assigned to Torpedo Squadron Eleven. Although having been involved in severe fighting, James wrote letters home assuring the family that the United States Military would prevail, and that he was proud to be a part of the Navy, and serving his country.

Tragedy struck on the morning of May 21, 1943 when James was the third member of a crew who left from an air base on Guadalcanal. Their destination was the Buin-Tonelei area. Their target was the shipping lane for Japanese military supplies. The original mission included four Navy bombers, each with a three-man crew. Due to bad visibility the strike was called off and the planes were ordered to return. It is unknown whether the bomber that James was in had lost radio contact or was already lost when the order was given to return. In any event the other planes returned to base and James' plane was reported missing. For days the area was searched with no trace being found of the missing bomber or the crew. The pilot of this ill-fated crew was Harry Thomas Brown of Borger, Texas and the other crew-member was Joe Lewis Harper of Great Falls, Montana.

The Navy contacted James Sr. with the news that his son was missing in action and that he would be contacted when there was further news. He was carried as an MIA for the duration of the war. Inquiries made by the members of the family brought no further information and on the 4th day of January 1946 the Navy, having searched all prisoner of war records and other listings, officially declared James Walter Tinsley Jr. deceased.

James was only nineteen years old at the time of his death and he had given the ultimate sacrifice for his country. He was a son, a brother, a grandson, a nephew and an uncle. He was loved and mourned by all.

For his service in the Battle of the Coral Sea, James was awarded a Presidential Citation; he also was posthumously awarded the American Defense Service Medal, World War Two Victory Medal and the Purple Heart.

I Was A Nurse's Aide
During World War II
By Louise Buhrer
My father, Herman H. Buhrer, owned the Live Oak Dairy in south Dallas, but had sold it just before war broke out on December 7, 1941. He and my mother, Julia, then purchased a farm in Richardson and moved there.

I had been living at home, but needed to live in Dallas since I was working at Liberty State Bank. Gasoline was rationed and each person was allowed only three gallons per week; so my only option was to ride the Interurban from Richardson to Dallas each day.

A girlfriend with whom I had gone through high school invited me to move in with her family in the Oak Lawn neighborhood. She also had a sister who lived at home, and the three of us decided to take a Red Cross first aid course so that we could work at the local hospitals after our day jobs.

Time went on and so did the war. My friend and I thought that we might help the war effort more by working as aides at one of the Army hospitals, so we applied for a civil service job sometime during the last part of 1944. Our orders soon came and we reported to the Regional Army Hospital at Camp Maxey in Paris, Texas on Easter Sunday, April 4, 1945.

We were assigned to the nurses' barracks. There were five aides already working at Regional when we arrived. Our rooms were pretty basic and without any frills-just the bare 2 x 4 studs on the inside with one open-faced closet. The Army supplied us with one bed, one chest of drawers, one chair and one small bedside table for the alarm clock. Our barracks were connected to the hospital via halls and covered ramps.

Our shifts were scheduled the same as the regular nurses. We worked from 7 a.m. to 3 p.m. one week and the next week we worked a split shift from 7 to 11 a.m. and then reported back for duty that day from 3 to 7 p.m. The aides didn't work the night shift and we got to take every other Sunday off. We also got to take the full weekend off once each month.

The aides wore striped blue-and-white pinafores with a white blouse, white hose, and white shoes. We were all dressed up. I was assigned to the contagious disease ward. Each ward had a nurse supervisor and one or two male orderlies as well as the aide.

The vast majority of soldiers at this base were from the eastern U.S. and did not like our hot Texas summers, chiggers, or grasshoppers.

We received our dismissal notice from the War Department on September 25, 1945. The notice stated, "This action is necessary due to reduction in force as ordered by higher authority."

Note:
Emma Louise Buhrer died, January 13, 2000, shortly after writing this story. She was born July 4, 1917. Survived by one aunt, Ruth Meissner of California in addition to numerous cousins.

My Job Was Building The Airfields
By Ralph Kerr
When the Japanese hit Pearl Harbor in 1941, I was living in Albuquerque and heard the news from a blaring radio from a neighbor's house while my wife and I were pushing a stroller (with our five month-old daughter) home from the store.

How this Dallas-born-and-bred boy got to Albuquerque; jobs for boys and girls just out of school were scarce as hen's teeth in 1936, but, with a recommendation from the Boy Scout Executive for Circle 10, I was offered one with the Dallas Branch Office of E.A. Pierce Stock Brokerage firm located on the fifth floor of the Kirby Building. My only credential for the job was my rank as an Eagle Scout. My only credential for getting married was my job, and I married Hazel Ruth Walker that year and we spent countless hours at the Texas Centennial. We had no auto for transportation, but those electric trolleys that we alled "streetcars" took us wherever we wanted to go, but it did cost us six cents each!

I worked as a clerk for E.A. Pierce until mid-1938, when rumors of a merger with Fenner and Bean sent me job-hunting again. (Pierce did merge with Fenner and Bean and many others, to become the largest brokerage firm in the world, now known as Merrill Lynch.) I found one in New Mexico working in the field of engineering, which was where I wanted to be.

When we entered the war, I offered my services to the Corps of Engineers. I was born with a defective eye: being legally blind in my right eye, I was "physically unfit" for anything but "limited service" in the Armed Forces. The Corps said YES, we want you as a civilian employee right now. The Corps had higher rank in choice of personnel than the Draft Board.

I was sent to Pecos, Texas, in
February, 1942 where we were building a training field for the Air Force. After a few months I was in charge of the engineering section of the Corps for construction of the Pecos, Pyote, and Marfa airfields. Pecos was a basic training station for fighter pilots and navigators; Marfa was for twin-engine pilots; and Pyote was for B-17 bomber training.

These bases were constructed by civilian contractors under contract to the Corps, and it was our job to see that they were designed and constructed according to specifications and, more importantly, that the designs were adequate for the purpose intended. Our personnel were in three sections under the supervision of a commissioned officer of the Corps of Engineers. One section was the administrators, personnel, correspondence, etc. One section was the inspectors who patrolled the work in progress. One section was engineering including design changes, surveys, drafting and the like, which was my responsibility. My job was made more difficult because of the shortage of material. Many designs were reworked because the materials required were not available.

The Corps sent me one man who was a registered engineer and architect in Colorado, New Mexico, Texas, and Florida. He was about sixty years of age, a devout alcoholic, and was assigned to my group. My first thought was, "What am I going to do with this man?" Actually, he was a godsend to me. He never drank on the job; when he was drinking he stayed in his room. When he was sober, he could and did do analyses of material and strength and suitability for the purpose intended in a fraction of the time it would have taken me or any one of my crew to do. He was hired at a salary that should have been insulting to a man of his talent and expertise, so we just ignored his problem and picked his brain when he was sober. He earned his pay and much more.

Our office was the first completed barracks building on the Pecos Base. We had no air conditioning, of course, and in June, July, and August, the temperatures inside the building frequently reached 115 degrees and more. One day when the temperature reached 117 degrees my good architect-engineer came to work after a drunken binge. I gave him drawings and plans for a proposed change to analyze and he set to work, groaning softly to himself. I looked in on him after a short while and found him wiping sweat with a soggy handkerchief, trying to keep from dripping on the plans, still groaning.

Someone at the next desk said, "Why don't you just go off somewhere and die?" His reply, "Oh God, I wish I could."

At that time I thought his answer was funny, but as I thought it over, I realized he was speaking from his heart and not just because of the heat. He died from cirrhosis of the liver shortly after the War was over, and his wish was granted. He served his country to the best of his ability at a time when he was badly needed. He is now at peace and shall remain nameless.

Memories Of World War II
By Dorothy (Clanton) Smith
The day Pearl Harbor was bombed, we didn't go to church because my sister and I were sick. Our family doctor diagnosed our illness as measles, but he and our parents hardly paid any attention to us because they were listening to the radio. I remember it was the first time I ever had a sense that the grown-ups were afraid. This made me afraid, too.

One night Dallas had a practice air raid and all the lights in the whole city were turned off. It was very cold, but my parents wrapped us in blankets and took us outside to see the stars. Because of the city lights, we had never seen so many stars.

My Dad and I began to collect the cartoons from the editorial page of The Dallas Morning News and put them in a scrapbook. The book was accidentally destroyed later, but I remember the one when the island of Truk was retaken; it was a big army boot about to step on the island, because Truk was the first island retaken from the Japanese and it was a "first-step." My father was too old to enlist; he had served in WWI and had been given a medical discharge after the flu epidemic, but my uncle and cousins all went into the army or navy.

When rationing started we moved to my grandmother's house so that we could pool our ration coupons. I especially remember my mother waiting in line to get bacon and coffee. Sugar, too, was rationed, and the artificial icing made from Karo syrup was especially nasty on birthday cakes. Later, my mother saved up a bit of sugar and my grandmother would make birthday cakes that tasted good. Shoes were rationed and at least once we made it halfway to town to get our school shoes when my mother remembered she didn't have coupons for them. We had to go back home on the streetcar and start over.

I really hated not getting lots of shoes, but I did not mind going without a bicycle, because it would have been unpatriotic to use steel and rubber for children's toys. I had one of the first dolls made of a new product, "vinyl." It was a baby doll Santa brought me, and I loved her because she was so soft and cuddly.

I had two jobs at home specifically to help the war effort. Margarine was white to identify it as not being butter, but the package contained a small envelope of food coloring. My job was to mix the food coloring into the margarine and because it then needed to be shaped, we had a butter mold in a flower shape. I packed it into the mold and put it in ice water for a few seconds to harden it. My other job was to prepare tin cans to be recycled. This was before frozen foods and many vegetables that could not be raised locally came in cans. Mother saved the top of the can and after dinner I rinsed the top and the can and cut out the bottom. The hard part was to stomp on the can to flatten it, because I was small and not heavy enough to mash the can flat. Once that was accomplished, the two ends were slipped into the flattened can and we kept them in a box until we had a certain weight and then turned them in.

The Girl Scouts had endless scrap paper drives. We also collected old pans, lids, and anything made of metal, to be recycled. We lived near the end of the Seventh Street car line, and when we passed the stops where people would drop their gum and cigarette wrappers, we picked them up and took them home to peel off the foil and save it.

Our father had always had a garden, but during WWII, many businesses divided their empty grounds among employees who planted a "Victory Garden" to help grow food. My mother and grandmother would spend days and days canning the produce. We all helped to wash and peel to get it ready to can. There was always some anxiety that something would blow up if it spoiled, but I don't think any of ours did.

Tuesdays at school were "banking" days, and we bought U.S. savings stamps for twenty-five cents each. When your savings book was full ($18.75) you could trade it in for a savings bond that would be worth $25 when it matured.

Before the War we loved going to the train station, but once the War started it wasn't so much fun. For one thing, the polio epidemic had started and we had to be careful not to touch anything in public places. The steps going up to the waiting rooms had these beautiful highly polished brass railings that were so tempting, and we couldn't touch them! It was important to make sure our family members coming home on leave would receive a great welcome; so we had to go, even with the dangers of polio-then we would find that the trains were late. Sometimes it would be many hours later before our loved ones arrived.

On VE Day and VJ Day we were so happy. We had been saved from the Germans and Japanese. We were safe again-we had won! We were so proud of every serviceman, no matter if he had served at home or overseas. There were never greater heroes than "our boys." They gave up their youth for our country, and were willing to give up their lives. They will always be my heroes.

The Dallas And The Texas In
World War II
By Earl O. Cullum
An article in the November 1996 issue of World War II magazine, by Pierre Comtois, tells of the U.S. landings in North Africa in November 1942, and the heroic role of the destroyer Dallas in that battle. The Fort Lyautey Airfield in French Morocco was needed as a base for U.S. planes to land, and ground troops were unable to capture the field from resisting Vichy French forces.

Captain Robert J. Brodie took seventy-five U.S. Infantrymen on the Dallas and sailed up the Sebou River. He rammed through a river boom and slipped between two scuttled ships, all the while under French artillery fire. He reached the airport area and unloaded his troops, who then captured the airport. The river was thus opened, and Brodie received the Navy Cross for this action.

It was called a "miraculous" feat, even though the Dallas was grounded for a time in the shallow river.

The U.S. battleship Texas also took part in this action. It unloaded 9,000 troops near the Moroccan coast, and assisted in their advance by firing on the enemy defending the Fort Lyautey Casbah area.

Remembering V-E Day
By Jack Warner Mackey
Today, May 8, 1985, is the 50th anniversary of V-E Day - Victory in Europe. I remember that date so well...now, in the autumn of my life, I can walk back through my younger years with fond memories...looking back on the unforgettable times and memorable events of my life in those war-torn years.

This date, to me, has grown across the years and the decades into something special...historic yet legendary, so long ago yet so recent, so hazy in my memory, yet so clear, so distant from me, yet so close to me...yes, an era that has never left me...Our outfit was attacking the city of Pilsen, Czechoslovakia with shell-fire. We, in General George Patton's Third Army, rolled into western Czechoslovakia during the last week of the European War. Our advance was halted, not by the Germans, but by General Dwight Eisenhower, who ordered that the territory east of Pilsen should be taken by the Soviets (Russians)...On April 29, 1945, eight days before we (our outfit-the 782nd Tank Battalion) entered the Czech border, Adolph Hitler married Eva Braun in nearby Berlin. Then, after saying farewell to his staff, on the afternoon of April 30th, Hitler and bride killed themselves, followed by Goebbels and his wife, who first murdered their six children.

I could hear all of this news on our Battalion network at our Headquarters Company...I was CQ - (Charge of Quarters) the night before German surrender. The bodies of Hitler and Eva Braun were burned.

Grand Admiral Karl Donitz was informed by radio signal that Hitler nominated him as his successor. As an afterthought, I remember drawing a # sign in black ink: It said, if I remember
"To the German Army-You are entering Pilsen, Czechoslovakia, by courtesy of the 782nd Tank Battalion."

Berlin fell to the Russians on Wednesday, May 2, 1945...I could hear the current news on our Battalion network as we were engaging the Nazi Army in combat at the outskirts of the city of Pilsen, Czechoslovakia. I thought I would vomit when I heard Ireland's Prime Minister Eamon DeValera called at the German Legation in Dublin to express his condolences on the death of the Fuhrer.

Germany surrendered unconditionally at 2:41 A.M. on the morning of May 7, 1945 ... 50 years ago today. Here's to history!

The War
By Eugene Marshall
I was almost ten years old at the start of World War II. During those years, many things that are considered a necessary part of life were unavailable most of the time. If we didn't have a stamp, we couldn't even buy. Stamps were a way of life. We had to have stamps for meat-beef, pork, and especially bacon. We had to have stamps for shoes, sugar, tires and other items. The women couldn't get hose. They painted their legs with a dye that was supposed to look like hose. I understand that was very messy, especially during the hot, sweaty, summer. There was no elastic. Gasoline was rationed and hard to get. A car owner was issued a ration book that was marked A, B, or C. Depending upon whether or not one used the car for the war effort or for leisure determined the book received. The letter of the book determined the number of gallons of gas that could be bought at any one time. Some could get more than one type of book. Drivers could only go 30 miles an hour regardless of where they were going. The law was strictly enforced.

Transportation was difficult. They stopped making autos, and parts were hard to get. All production went into the war effort. GM linked together two Cadillac engines to run a tank. Some auto manufacturers made other things. Some made the famous Jeep. Singer Sewing Machine Company made some of the 45-caliber handguns.

People came around pushing or pulling carts, asking for rags, metal or rubber of any type for the war effort. They were called "The Rag Men."

Prior to the war, trains were the mode of transportation. During the war, train traveling was prioritized like gasoline rationing. The service men went first. Next was a serviceman traveling with his family. Last was everyone else. Just because a serviceman was traveling with his family, didn't mean that they would necessarily get there at the same time. If the train made a stop and a lot of servicemen came on board, the family would have to get off the train and wait until a train was going their way. When that happened, of course, the family was in the "everyone else" category. In any case the trains were full, with people sitting on their suitcases in the aisles.

Four Miltner sons: One of my uncles, John Miltner (Fred's third son), had basic Army training at Camp Barkley in Abilene, Texas. He was a male nurse and was sent to the Pacific area. One place was the New Hebrides, southeast of the Solomon Islands. A more recent map calls the islands Vanuatu.

Uncle Bab was put into Headquarters Company. He was sent to France. At the end of the war he was one of the stenographers who recorded the proceedings at the Word War II International War-Crimes Trials held in Nuremberg, Germany in 1945 and 1946. Bab asked the folks to send him all the German dictionaries that they could find, along with any German language books. They were hard to find.

Fred Miltner's oldest son, Joe, was drafted into the Army and also had basic training at Camp Barkley in Abilene, Texas. Afterwards he was transferred to Camp Maxey, in North Texas. He ran the shooting ranges at Camp Maxey and never had to go overseas. He was in charge of the pistol range, the rifle range, and the moving target range. He had to see that all were capable of performing correctly so that the soldiers had proper training.

After three of his four brothers had been drafted, the youngest son, Ben, volunteered for the Army Air force. He was sent to California for training. From there he was sent to India. He was part of the crews that kept the planes flying. The airmen flying out of the field where he was stationed had a very hard time. He said there were many times he would have friends take off on a raid in China over the "Hump" and never return. The "Hump" was their name for the Himalayan Mountains.

Late in the war, March 1944, the remaining son, Allen, was drafted into the army as an infantryman. After basic training, he was sent to Europe. This son was one of the unlucky ones who were caught in the Belgium Bulge. He was taken prisoner by the Germans, and reported as missing on December 21, 1944. He was a prisoner until liberated by the allied forces in 1945.

War Trials
The Belgium Bulge occurred in the middle of one of the coldest European winters. He was forced to march across Europe toward Germany in front of the advancing American forces. It wasn't known at the time, but his marches brought him close to his grandfather's hometown. From his march and imprisonment, he had frostbitten feet-not enough to have amputations, but he had problems from then on.

Inducted In Amarillo
By Ruben Leal, Jr.
My dad, Ruben S. Leal, was born at Paris, Texas, on June 9, 1921, the son of migrant farm workers, Matias and DeLores (Soto) Leal. Both parents were natives of San Carlos, Mexico.

Ruben was traveling through Dallas with his parents when they stopped for a visit with the Torbio Portugal family. He was soon in love with their daughter, Elvira P. Portugal. They married in 1942, and Ruben was inducted into the US Army at Amarillo shortly after.

I was born while my dad was fighting on the battlefields in the Philippines. It was three years before he returned home. We had already moved in with my mother's parents in Dallas by then. He would never talk about his war experiences around any of the family, but several of his friends have told us about some of his encounters.

My dad and his good friend, Gabriel Chavez, of Amarillo were both in the "Deadeye" Division. The entire division had been pinned down for about a week when Gabriel stood up and began screaming. He was immediately shot by enemy soldiers. My dad grabbed Gabriel's leg and pulled him back under cover. Gabriel said, "Tell Mom I love her," and then took his last breath.

After the last battle was fought, his division returned to the states aboard a large troop ship. The entire division immediately sought the comforts of a nearby tavern, where the barkeeper announced that he would be happy to serve all the returning troops except the Mexican. The other troops then announced that if one were served, all would be served. The barkeeper refused and troops tore up the place. The Military Police soon arrived and promptly loaded up all the troops. One of the senior soldiers explained how my dad had put his life on the line for every member of the Deadeye Division. All the troops were then released after a short ride around the block.

Ruben was seriously wounded twice, once in the arm and once in the shoulder. He entered the Army as a private and was discharged in 1945 as staff sergeant. He received two Purple Hearts and two Bronze Stars.

Aviation Cadets In World War II
By John C. Winniford
I was happy to be one of the thirty-six men shown in this picture, which was printed as a news item in the Dallas newspaper in March 1942. Notice that we were arranged in the form of a "D" indicating our ties to Big D. We had been in pre-flight training for several weeks at Kelly Field in San Antonio - it seemed like forever - and were now being assigned to flight training schools with the hope of becoming pilots in the Army Air Corps.

To me, being an aviation cadet was the ideal answer to the problem all young men of draft age had faced during the months prior to the Pearl Harbor attack. I had been inducted and accepted as a cadet during the week immediately following that historic event. I successfully completed pilot training and received my silver wings and commission as a second lieutenant in September 1942 at Ellington Field in Houston.

I spent four years as a pilot and was separated from active duty in December 1945. A number of the men in this picture made the army a career, and others became airline pilots. I returned to civilian life, having reached the rank of major. We were the fortunate ones, for a good many did not live to see their twenty-first birthday.

After Pearl Harbor, Wake Island
By: Lee Huffhines
America suffered a "Dunkirk" of its own during the winter of 1941 and 1942.

Between Hawaii and the Philippines there were three key American islands: Midway, Wake and Guam. Wake is an Atoll which consists of three islands: Kuku, Peale, and Wake. They lie 1,000 miles west of Midway and 1,300 miles east of Guam and stretch only 13,500 yards from northern to southern tip.

After Pearl Harbor the Japanese fleet came in on Wake in December 1941, and they would have to fight fifteen long, hard days for Wake Atoll. Everyone in America was now focused on that tiny strip of coral far out in the Pacific. It was reported that when the Navy headquarters at Pearl Harbor asked the men on Wake what they needed, their reply was, "Send us more Japs." But after the war both Commander Cunningham and Major James Devereux of the Marines denied having sent such a reply. "If there was anything we did not need at Wake, it was more Japs," said Cunningham.

The battle of Wake was underway December 8, 1941, and the next fifteen days added a glorious chapter to the history of the Marine Corps. The defenders had six 5-inch guns and twelve antiaircraft guns, and their twelve fighting planes-seven had been destroyed on the ground by the first rain of bombs. On December 11 the Japanese attempted a landing with twelve ships, but the Marine guns sank several of the ships and the others fled. On December 23, however, the Marines could hold out no longer; the last message from Wake was "Enemy on Island. Issue in doubt."

On Wake at the time were about 1,600 people, including 483 Marines. The rest were civilians, some of them employees of Pan American Airways, which had established a station on Wake in 1935 for its Clippers.

On September 7, 1945, the Americans retook Wake without a battle. Rear Admiral A.E. Montgomery let Major Jim Devereux take the Japanese admiral's sword as the symbol of defeat. Devereux had returned in triumph to Wake, acting for all the men who had fought and suffered there. He said that little had changed in four years' absence-the odd-looking rats were still there-only his Marines were gone, most of whom were teenagers who had never held a steady job.

Epilogue: From Shearer Huffhines' Diary. "While on a flight from Honolulu to Tokyo on January 3, 1971, our plane ran low on fuel. The 707 had encountered strong headwinds and burned too much fuel to reach Tokyo. The pilot made an emergency stop at Wake Island. The runway was short for this size of plane and I was terrified at the landing. This island was the only place we could stop and get gas. This made us realize the importance of its location in World War II. We were there about forty-five minutes. We bought postcards and read the monument in front of the terminal. Don was terrified at the takeoff. I was told later that the takeoff was a very dangerous climb."
(Shearer and Don Huffhines are parents of Lee Huffhines)

Judge Robert "Bob" Ellis Day
1922-2001
By Vicki (Day) Blair
"I claim but one thing, and that is that I am truthful and try to live a Christian life, and even though I make many errors, I do hope to be a man my Mother may well be proud of."

These are the words of a man who truly loved America. Robert Ellis Day, my father, was born in Fort Worth, but was raised and lived most of his life in Dallas. By the age of 12, Bob was active in the Boy Scouts and the YMCA. As he entered Sunset High School, he became a member of the ROTC. Bob graduated at the age of 16 and immediately began attending North Texas Agricultural College at Arlington, where he majored in aeronautics. He enjoyed his studies physics and math, until the bombing of Pearl Harbor.

Bob enlisted in the United States Army Air Force, and anxiously awaited a call. On June 1, 1942, he was sent to Kelly Field (San Antonio), for pre-flight school, and on to Victory Field (Vernon), with the 313th Detachment for primary flying school. Basic flying school. Basic flying school continued at Randolph Field (San Antonio) where he nicked a fence landing and his flying career was over.

He returned to Carswell Field in Fort Worth where he was the Crew Chief for a B-24 Bomber, a photo lab technician, Classification Section (based on his high school and college scores), and gave and graded army tests. In March of 1943 he was promoted to corporal and transferred to Anti-Aircraft School in Camp Davis, North Carolina. In June he began preparing to go overseas with the 28th Training Group from Jefferson barracks, Missouri.

October was an eventful month as he traveled to the United Kingdom to the Headquarters of the 8th Air Force in Bushy Park and Milton Ernest. From there he was sent to the 35th Air Depot Group in Little Staughton, and the Army Air Force Station 127, 2nd SAD (Strategic Air Defense) assigned to Classification. In November he was promoted to sergeant and worked with the 2nd Mobile Repair and Reclamation Squadron. Once again he worked in Classification, and in replacing wings, engines, and other major parts.

In December of 1944 Bob was transferred to the 1st Mobile Repair and Reclamation Squadron, Air Strip A83, in Northern France, Classification and setting up emergency landing strips, but was quickly moved to Airstrip Bomber (B53) at Merville Du Nord with the 5th SAD as the Battle of the Bulge began. Next he was moved to the Belgium border and on to Brussells (B58). January 1945 was a return to Air Strip B53 and the Squadron 44th Air Depot Group. May of that same year landed him in the 30th General Hospital, Antwerp, Belgium with impacted wisdom teeth. He received some notoriety as he was photographed and the photo was used in press releases in the US. Many worried families wrote to him to see if he was or if he knew of their "missing" sons.

July of 1945 returned Bob to England, where he was assigned to the 5th Mobile Repair and Reclamation (heavy bombers). Bases were being closed and he was an Administrative Specialist/Classification plus Service Records. He continued working as an Administrative Specialist with the 3rd Air Division and with AAF Station 116, 100th Bomber Group, AAF Station 169 until November when he departed on the USS Enterprise for the United States. Bob arrived home via Staten Island to the Navy Yard in New York. On December 6, 1945, Robert Ellis Day was honorably discharged at Camp Fannin in Tyler, Texas.

When asked what he wanted out of life, he wrote these words, "I want to return to Dallas and find a good Christian woman that will love me and is willing to settle down in a few years. I want children, but I do want these children to be free from war and its horrors. In the name of our Lord, let us pray for a speedy victory in this world conflict, to be followed by a permanent peace, uniting all the nations of the earth in a league of justice and righteousness, in which life, liberty and the love of God shall be paramount."

Last "Manhattan Project" Member
By Shearer Huffhines
In 1987 my husband, Don, his cousin, Frances Bell, and I hosted the first Huffhines family reunion in over thirty years. With over eight hundred in attendance we weren't able to meet everyone, but one particular member and his family stands out in our memory - Robert Huffhines, his wife Leana, and one of their sons, David and his family. What a pleasure to have the opportunity to visit with this wonderful gentleman, who, after having survived so much in his life, had such a good sense of humor.

Robert was born in Richardson in 1911. After graduating from Adamson High School he continued his education at North Texas Agricultural College at Arlington, in pursuit of his life-long interest, electronics and radio communications. While employed at SMU as an instructor in radio communications to soldiers in training, in 1942 he was contacted by the U.S. government and asked to participate in a "hush-hush" project in Los Alamos, New Mexico, which was later named "The Manhattan Project." Robert was one of the first 150 men on the project, and his contributions included development of electronics used in nuclear physics research. He also was responsible for building the first radio broadcast station at Los Alamos.

After World War II Robert made the decision to stay on in Los Alamos and continue his work and research. A tragic accident on August 2, 1946, changed his life forever. Working with partners Bill Bibbs from Mississippi and Josh Schwartz from New York, they were preparing to check a valley for contamination. He had just taken eight pounds of explosive mixture from his smock pocket, prepared it for detonation, and set it on the ground, anticipating a thirty-minute wait. The mixture ignited prematurely causing flames to flash up Robert's right side. At the same time the huge flame reached both Bill and Josh. MPs rushed all three to the hospital and all suffered serious burns, eye injuries, and other complications. Robert was literally put back together - with doctors repairing a hand (he lost the thumb on his right hand), leg, and arm. Scarring from the explosion was significant and after weeks in the hospital a noted eye surgeon from New York helped Robert face the reality that he had lost his right eye and would not regain the vision in the left.

Through the weeks of painful recovery and after, Robert never lost his sense of humor or love and zest for life. Not one to sit around, feel sorry for himself, or blame anyone for the accident, he went back to school to learn Braille and charged ahead full tilt. He went on to build an extremely successful company, Dallas Radionics. He was instrumental in setting up the first radio isotope laboratory in Texas at Lisbon V.A. Hospital (in Dallas); he worked for the U.S. Surgeon General on researching carcinogenic agents; and went on to join the North American lecture circuit, speaking about biophysics, respiratory and inhalation therapy. He was included in the 1973 volume of "Who's Who in America."

After the family reunion Robert continued to stay in contact (Don and Robert were fifth cousins). He would telephone Don and begin the conversation speaking perfect German - completely fooling Don, who did not speak or understand German and thought it was a relative from Germany calling. After a few minutes Robert would identify himself, and they would share a robust laugh over the joke.

Robert was the last surviving atomic physicist of the original Los Alamos group. He passed away on August 25, 1998. Old John and Elizabeth Huffhines (Dallas County, 1851) would be proud of their descendant.

A Military Career
Mayor of Seoul, Korea;
Golf With Ike; Missile Security; DMZ
By Bill McRae (from oral interviews with the Killoughs)
James Sevier Killough was born in Dallas in 1910 to Mary Maud Lett and Joseph Killough, both of who were born in Tennessee and died in Dallas. James graduated from Bryan Street High School (aka Crozier Tech, Dallas High), where he was a member of ROTC, which led to a reserve officer commission in the U.S. Army. He attended law school at Jefferson University in Dallas and was admitted to the Texas Bar in 1933.

On May 12, 1934 he married Iris Marjorie Gilpin (born in Dallas in 1915), daughter of Ruby Lee Ratliff and Fred Young Gilpin. Iris attended Williamson Private School on Clarendon Avenue in Oak Cliff and graduated from Sunset High School.

While practicing law in Dallas, Second Lt. Killough was called to active duty in the Army and supervised the establishment of Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) camps in Woody Creek, Colorado, and Tonto National Forest west of Phoenix, Arizona. After one and a half years of active duty he returned to Dallas to continue his law practice with the firm of Killough and Ford, specializing in insurance law. Upon his release from the Army, Killough held the rank of Captain of Infantry, U.S. Army Reserve.

A son, James, Jr., was born in Dallas on September 28, 1935.

In 1938 Killough became a federal undercover narcotics agent in New York City and was instrumental in breaking up illegal narcotics operations involving the Mafia in the upper west side of Manhattan known as "The Hill." Early 1940 found him in Little Rock, Arkansas Narcotics Division agent-in-charge. In a one-year period, his team of undercover agents successfully arrested and prosecuted thirty physicians engaged in illegal morphine trade.

Capt. Killough was again called to active duty in late 1940 and was made commander of a heavy weapons company at Ft. Benning, Georgia. Early 1941 saw him transferred to Camp Wolters at Mineral Wells. Soon after, because of his experience in undercover narcotics service, he was assigned detached duty to Ft. McIntosh in Laredo, as District Intelligence Officer to cover the Mexican border. Due to Mexico's neutrality at that time, it was a hotbed of foreign intelligence operations. Capt. Killough developed a prime contact who was a former German merchant sailor escaping from the Nazi regime - an excellent poker player having many international contacts, and an invaluable resource for the U.S. cause. It was in this assignment that Killough decoded the message informing the military commanders that Pearl Harbor had been bombed and the U.S. was in a state of war. Two weeks later the border was closed to foreign travel.

In rapid succession Capt. Killough was posted to Louisiana to secure the port of New Orleans; to Little Rock to establish an intelligence district where two Japanese-Americans relocation camps were to be established; and to Ft. Bliss, Texas, to establish the West Texas - New Mexico Intelligence District, including the Manhattan Project at Los Alamos.

Son Michael Vance was born in Dallas on September 11, 1942.

Other detached service sent Capt. Killough to military government schools at the University of Virginia and the University of Chicago, language schools at Presidio, Monterey, and finally assignment to Headquarters Tenth Army on Oahu, Hawaii. His outfit, 24th Corps, 10th Army, shipped out on a Landing Ship-Vehicle (one of only two ever built during the war-the size of a light cruiser and carrying 5" guns as well as anti-aircraft guns).