My Dad wrote this about his return from WWII:
"We landed in New York at midnight on December 29, 1945. There weren’t any bands there, or cheering, nobody except a little group of Salvation Army girls, who had coffee and a few donuts. It was colder than hell and I was tickled to death that no one was there. I just wanted to get out of the cold.
From there they shipped us to Pennsylvania. They wanted us to lay over and not be processed, so the boys that worked there could go out and get drunk on New Years Eve. And I was one of them that said “To Hell with you, I’m going home.” We’d been gone three years, and they wanted us to hang around so they could get drunk! I was hot! Then this guy started giving me a hard time because I wasn’t up-to-date on my shots. I’d been in Turkey, no Army doctors around! So I told them that I’d survived that long without those shots and it wasn’t their problem any more. I told them, “All I want is that piece of paper that says DISCHARGED!”
So, they finally did get us our discharge papers that day, and I got on the train to Cincinnati. From there, I took the bus to Middletown. I got to the bus station about noon on January 1, 1946. I walked around the corner and called a taxi to go home. I was standing there on the corner, waiting for the taxi, when I looked across the street and a neighbor girl, Inez Childers, was just getting ready to cross the street. She worked downtown and was going to lunch. We met in the middle of the intersection of Main and Central. I guess there was traffic going around us, but I didn’t know it!
I can’t explain it, but I was completely overwhelmed. Everything seemed to come together and I knew right then that she was the nicest, sweetest person in the world. We were married March 1, 1946. Fifty-five years later, I still believe that."
Glendale, OH
