Vignettes - Life's Tales Book Three. William M.D. Baker

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target="_blank" rel="nofollow" href="#fb3_img_img_b0ab80bb-35e3-5a9d-bb4e-593408427d48.jpg" alt="droppedImage-1.jpg"/>But, when he attempted to back up the steep driveway the engine tapped, coughed, sputtered and died. He rolled back into the garage. Again, he started the engine, waited a few minutes, then with the engine tapping and blowing blue smoke he made it up the driveway and to the bus station.

      My step-father never asked for an explanation, but he did insist that I and my buddies fill the tank with gasoline, which we did by begging gas stamps from friends.

      END

      VIGNETTE NO. III

      TRANSPORTING CHINESE NATIONALIST TROOPS

      Aboard the USS Randall APA 224

      The time setting is from October 20 to November 26, 1945 The Japanese have surrendered and World War II is over. The 69th Transport Command consisting of six APA’s, commanded by the Randall, has been ordered to make two runs transporting Chinese National Troops from Hong Kong (Kowloon) to the Northern China cities of Chinwangtao and Tsingtao to free those cities from their Japanese occupier.

      I’m not sure what the US Navy was expecting us to find when we got to Kowloon, but whatever it was, we found something less. The Chinese National Troops were illiterate, under trained and sick. It is hard to portray just how bad they were. Perhaps, it will

suffice to say that a total of eleven soldiers died of Dysentery on the two voyages from Kowloon to Northern China. Think about this, there were about 2,500 troops on board and 400 of us sailors. Every effort was made to restrict them to parts of the ship, but it was a useless effort and their meals of rice and dry fish were cooked in our mess. Our crew was very angry about being exposed to the dangers of whatever diseases they could be carrying. Above is a picture of a basket of cooked rice and dried fish that we called a “squad bucket”. At the two meals of the day the leaders of the squads of about ten young men would go to the mess with a basket, get it filled and return to his squad. With the men squatted in a circle the squad leader would fill a man’s rice bowl, scrape it level with the back of his sword and give the rice bowl to the soldier. Everyone got the same ration except the squad leader who ate out of the “squad bucket”, usually with his fingers. On one occasion a young soldier lost his balance as the ship rolled and fell over spilling his rice. The Squad Leader angrily shouted at him, drew his sword and slapped the soldier on the side of the head with the flat of the sword splitting the scalp open. The soldier spent the voyage in Sick Bay.

      When the first of the eleven soldiers died of Dysentery the Chaplain went to the Skipper and asked that the convoy be slowed for a Burial at Sea Ceremony. The Skipper agreed and

the convoy of six ships was slowed. The ceremony was conducted and the convoy returned to cruising speed. Shortly thereafter a call came in on the Ship-to-ship radio asking for a reduced speed to conduct a Burial-at-Sea Ceremony. Approval was given. Then again, after shortly getting back to cruising speed, another request came in. It was then that the Convoy Commander had enough and informed the Chaplain there would be no more slow downs for burial at sea or we’d never get to Northern China. From then on we always knew when a Chinese soldier died by the PA announcement of, “Now hear this, duty Cox’n lay up to Sick Bay with Palm and Needle”. A “Palm” is a seaman’s hand tool used for sewing canvas. It fits on the hand like a glove and sewn in the palm of the hand is a lead button used to push the needle through the canvas. When we heard the “Palm and Needle” message we knew another burial at sea was about to take place. As we closed the distance from Kowloon to the Northern China cities of Chinwangtao and Tsingtao, we came into the dangerous area of the Yellow Sea which had been heavily mined with surface mines by the Japanese. A call went out for “Sharpshooters” and since I had competed on the ROTC Rifle Team I was one of the five selected who were issued Carbines and stationed on the bow of the ship with instructions to blow up any mines that came into view. We saw one or two but they were well out of range and no shots were ever fired. I still smile at the whole affair. And, after all, weren’t those mines there at night, too!

      After we had delivered the sick and dying Chinese troops we headed for Okinawa. There, we steam cleaned the ship as best as we could and then loaded it with Air Force pilots and crews and headed for Seattle.

      END

      VIGNETTE NO. IV

      SELLING MAGAZINES

      From Denver, CO to Richmond, VA

      World War II is over. I am out of the Navy and I have split-up with my High School sweetheart. (See: Vignette No. IX, “My High School Sweetheart and Earl”) I have spent the summer in Sonora visiting with my Dad and my Grandmother, “Mums” and working with the California Department of Forestry at a summer-time fire encampment.

      I am now back home in Oakland and preparing to leave as there is nothing here for me since my step-brother, Bert, also out of the Navy, is now married to my sister, Barbara and they are renting a house and planning to build a new one. Therefore, all the free time and attention of my working mother and step-father is directed to them. Also, my younger brother, Jim, is not at home as he is stationed on the East Coast in the Army. I’ve come home to an empty nest.

      My closest two friends, Earl and Harold, were both classified 4-F and did not serve in WWII. Earl had shattered his heel in a high school basketball accident and Harold had eye sight problems. When I returned something had changed in our relationships. I have never really understood what happened. I think it was a combination of two things. One, guilt. Guilt of having not served, not guilt of excuse or cheating, just a simple guilt of having not served. The other was that they had made new friends and I became a “what about Bill” when it came to outings and parties. Then there was Earl’s part that he played in the separation of my high school sweetheart, Mary, and me. I wanted away from it all. Once again I stuck out my thumb and headed East not knowing where I was going nor did I really care.

      In Denver I checked into the YMCA where Harold and I had stayed several years before. For the next few days I walked the streets looking for a job and tried being twenty-one years of age. I was actually twenty. But when I was in Sonora I got a driver’s license with a false birth year of 1924, making me twenty-one. It was important to me to be twenty-one as it gave me total independence.

      Why I had not taken advantage of the Veteran’s programs available at that time I do not know. Perhaps, simply because I hadn’t been pointed in that direction. I was drifting, lonesome and low on money.

      I saw an ad in the Denver Post. It read something like this: “Wanted: Young man free to travel the US. Must be 18 or older. Veterans preferred. Free meals and lodging. Contact Mr. Green , ext 123, Denver Hotel.” I immediately called and was told to be at Room W-1 at 9:00 a.m the next morning for an interview with Mr. Green.

      My knock the next morning was answered with the door being snatched opened by a young man who stepped aside, bowed from the waist and with a wave of his arm jokingly said, “Do come in, we are waiting for you!” The sitting room was occupied by several young men, some standing, some sitting, who laughingly approved of the antics being displayed. One knowingly asked, “Here to see Mr. Green, we suppose?” I answered affirmatively to which he said, “So are we. You ex-Navy?” I answered, “Yes.”, to which the person replied, “So are we, but Mr. Green is ex-Marine Corps. A Captain…. you answering the ad?” I again replied, “Yes” and moved to a vacant wall space as the door to the other room opened framing a beautiful and shapely woman, “Hello Boys, I am Mrs. Green,”

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