Somewhere In Time
By William H. Stewart
Being born some ten years before America's entry into World War II my early memories are of a time of quiet, tree lined streets, neat frame houses with relatively few automobiles of the thirties vintage. I recall that bright Sunday afternoon when word came that Pearl Harbor in the Hawaiian Islands -- a place I had never heard of -- had been attacked by the Japanese.
The following Monday, I listened to a one o'clock broadcast by President Roosevelt that would officially take the United States to war. Sitting on the floor before the huge vacuum tube filled Magnavox radio which was more a piece of wooden furniture than a receiving set my mother said, "you listen to this and never forget it" and I listened to the deep, resonant voice of America's thirty second president, now a ghost in my memory, speak confidently to an enraged and bewildered nation - -
"Yesterday, December 7, 1941 -- the United States was deliberately attacked by the naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan." I listened and I never forgot.
President Roosevelt usually used a standard limousine but on his way to the Capitol that day to deliver the formal declaration of war he rode in a bullet proof limousine that had been confiscated from convicted gangster Al Capone some years earlier.
No one could foresee what the future would bring and the waning days of
1941 and the early months of '42 were bleak indeed for the country as we were losing everywhere. The Japanese seemed unstoppable as they advanced across the western Pacific and throughout southeast Asia as islands and countries fell under the onslaught. Names of faraway places that few in those days had ever heard of much less locate on a map. Places like Wake, Midway, Guam flashed in the news and then just as quickly faded only to be replaced by still some other obscure place on the other side of the world. The war brought about many startling discoveries, one being that there were huge areas of the world that had not been mapped. U. S. and British cartographers divided up the unmapped areas to avoid duplication. No previous conflict had taken American military personnel to so many different places in the world at the same time and maps were one of the many things needed by the military.
Blackouts were imposed on all the homes with the result that after sundown if the interior room in your home had a light burning you had to keep the window blinds drawn shut so no light penetrated into the night.This was for protection against enemy air raids.
No new automobiles were manufactured after 1941 for the consumer market as the manufacturing plants had converted to producing war materiel of all types. Prior to that a new car could be purchased for $850 and a gallon of gas for 12 cents. The average cost of a new house in 1941 was $4,075.
When war broke out the average annual wage was $1,750.
As the months and years passed the fighting intensified as the names of still more strange places leapt into the headlines, Roi, Tarawa, Truk, Saipan, Tinian, Peleliu, Leyte, Iwo Jima - then after 1,364 days, more than three and one half years of fighting it was over and the world would never again be the same.
War, even for those who do not fight in it, effects the soul and marrow of a nation, winner and looser, and marks a turning point in its history as well as in all the lives effected -- a right angle turn in national and individual destiny. And so it was with me -- little did I know that a quarter century after the conclusion of hostilities that the youth playing on Grant Street on a bright, blustery Sunday afternoon in Charleston, West Virginia would become one of a few administrators of more than a thousand islands scattered like fly specks on a sheet of Pacific glass, islands formerly known as the Japanese Mandated Islands, later to become the Trust Territory of the Pacific Islands and more recently a series of political entities associated United States.
I vaguely remember the summer of 1944, the year Saipan was invaded when, as a 12 year old youth, I had six long years to wait until I could enter the military service. This was a period when you saw only boys and very old men around our neighborhood. The United States population was 131.5 million and 12.5 million of those were off to war. It was a period when most things were in short supply. Except for vegetables nearly everything was rationed, meat, butter, sugar, gasoline, tires, even shoes -- you were only allowed two pair a year because leather was needed for the war effort. The government imposed price controls on many food items -- a loaf of bread was a dime, Cokes and candy bars (if you could find them) cost a nickel apiece. There was no unemployment and people had a lot of money but there was little to buy and if you didn't have the necessary ration stamps you could not make a purchase. There was a "black market" but it was illegal and very secretive as most people frowned upon it because it was considered unpatriotic, It was the only time in my life where the entire nation was dedicated to one, single all consuming goal -- "Win The War." There has never been anything like it since.
Many things important to a youngster at that time were unavailable. Many companies had billboards around town with a picture of their product displayed stating, "Spearmint Has Gone To War" or "See You After the The War." Nash Kelvinator, Firestone, Lockheed and International Trucks all had similar billboards posted around the nation. Gasoline was in such short supply that the local dairy made its morning deliveries of bottled milk by horse drawn wagons and in that summer, so long ago, those same wagons would deliver huge blocks of ice for our "icebox." There were few automobiles on the road and no new models were being made since the last production run in early 1942 was halted. All the automobile plants had been converted to build military equipment. Comedian Will Rogers remarked, " We are the only nation that waits until we get into a war before we start preparing for it." America's industrial base was being transformed into a gigantic war machine. The Henry J. Kaiser Shipyards were soon turning out one ship every 80 hours and at the Willow Run plant in Ypsilanti, Michigan, construction was started on a plant to produce aircraft. Construction on the building was started at one end while, at the same time, an aircraft was being manufactured under the roof, by the time the building's assembly line had a roof over it at the other end, the first completed aircraft rolled out.
Every other house in our neighborhood on the west side of town had a blue star on a small red, cloth banner hanging in the window proclaiming that they had a family member in the service. It was a time of "V" mail and "Victory"
gardens. Almost everyone had cultivated part of their yard to produce vegetables for their own consumption.
The government sponsored all sorts of collections of surplus or used goods which were called "Drives" There was a paper drive where we would collect old newspapers presumably to help the war effort. There were drives to collect scrap metal, an aluminum drive and so on. I never really figured out whether all the stuff that I, and thousands of other kids, collected found its way to the war effort or whether it was a contrived activity devised to keep us busy and out of trouble since most of our mothers had replaced men working in the war plants and thus were not at home during the day.
Roosevelt called the country, "the great arsenal of democracy" and by the end of the war the United States had produced 296,000 aircraft, 71,000 naval vessels and 2.4 million trucks. Someone in the government became concerned that because of the rationing of food that there might be children that would not get sufficient protein in their diet, so every day we would take large spoons from our desks at school and line up while the teacher would make us swallow the unpleasant tasting Cod Liver Oil.
I still recall that on the way to school we would pass railroad tracks where great, puffing steam engines pulled a trail of flatcars loaded with tanks and military vehicles of all type going west toward Pacific seaports. It was a time when you could get six glass bottles of Coca Cola in a wooden carrying case for a quarter. A Saturday double feature at the Custer Theater cost a dime. War Bonds were sold to finance the war for $18.25 later redeemable at $25.
By 1944, we were receiving relatively good news about the war effort. We would see newsreels at the local theater or listen to radio broadcasts in the evening. We listened to Edward R. Morrow, and the Lucky Strike Hit Parade, it was the beginning of the era of the "Big Bands." In those days the radio in the living room was a major piece of furniture and an ear on unfolding world events. We never heard of television.
I have often thought that to have been old enough to have participated in World War Two -- and been lucky enough to have survived -- must have been one of the greatest adventures in which one could participate. I recall everyone saying, "after the war -- nothing will be the same", but at the time I didn't understand what they meant by the statement. That was a long time ago -- and I know now what they meant.
I suspect there is a little of the Gypsy in all of us - dreams of wanderlust to exotic places - I call it "having a rabbit's foot." Until the late 50's when passenger jets came into use I can remember thinking that Europe was a five day sea voyage from New York and the breadth of the Pacific was too vast to even contemplate. By 1958, Europe was little more than five hours distant from the United States' east coast for those new air sucking engines that blew you through space rather than screw into the atmosphere for propulsion. There wasn't the mass travel then that one must contend with today.
After the war the United States emerged as the undisputed victor and the wealthiest nation on earth. It was unscathed at home, totally intact with an industrial base equal to that of all the nations of the world combined and probably then some. American cities were untouched by the devastation of the greatest war the world had ever known. To have grown up in the United States in those incredibly rich, halcyon years was to be extremely fortunate as a member of one of the luckiest generations in recorded history. It was a time which can never again be repeated.