[Jim O]

My father and his two younger brothers all served in the US armed forces during World War II.

My father was born in 1918 and his brothers in 1922 and 1924. Sadly, their father died in 1926 and their mother in 1937. "Peacetime" conscription was commenced in the US in October 1940, in anticipation that a larger army might soon be necessary. My father was called in the first few months. They would not, however, allow him to serve, despite his willingness, as he was the guardian of a child still under 18 at the time.

My uncle turned 18 about one month after Pearl Harbor, and all three brothers entered the service in 1942. My father and his youngest brother were in the USAAF, while the middle brother enlisted in the Navy.

My father was involved in aircraft maintenance at various flight schools in Florida for much of 1942-1944. Some of you may have heard or read that untrained soldiers were being plucked from other units to serve as cannon fodder in the Battle of the Bulge. My father was one of them, but just before his departure his orders were changed and he was assigned to a unit that was training to maintain and support air operations in the anticipated invasion of Japan.

After a few months my father and his unit boarded a troop train headed west, bound for a troop ship out of Seattle. He was in Seattle when the Hiroshima bomb was dropped, and, ironically, he was anchored in Pearl Harbor when the surrender was signed. He made it as far as Guam before the Army sent him home in early 1946.

The younger of my two uncles served in a B-17 crew in England. He completed his 25 combat missions (in addition to over 100 sorties) and then his crew "volunteered" for 5 additional missions, all before D-Day. He was someone who talked a lot about being in, about guys on his plane being shot, etc. The most memorable story I recall is one where the bomb bay doors were stuck shut, and (since he was the lightest in weight), they held him by his ankles while he went down and opened them by hand. He said that he got a little woozy whenever the doors opened the next few missions.

My father's middle brother never spoke much about his experience in the Navy other than to say that he was a cook and an "ammunition passer". I know that he had quite a few battle stars, having served in the PTO.


I wanted also to remember their Uncle Jack. I never met him as he died in early 1946. Uncle Jack was their (late) mother's brother. He had no children of his own. When my father and his brothers went in the service, Uncle Jack took it upon himself to send each of them a postcard every day. All three of them told me the same thing. At every mail call, wherever they were, there was mail from Uncle Jack. No story of their service would be complete without at least a mention of him.