Our Father's Generation

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Our Father's Generation Page 8

by F. M. Worden


  It was pitch black this morning as we drove thru the streets of Munich to this railway station, where I had arrived a few short months ago. Half asleep, I was awakened by a voice coming over a loud speaker telling us we were the latest members of the German Wehrmacht, the finest military organization in the world. We would be joining the German army infantry as private ranked riflemen, to serve our beloved fatherland.

  The morning was filled with “Sieg Heils” and everyone there gave the German arm and hand salute. I was poked in the back and motioned to reply with a raised arm, hand and Sieg Heil of my own. I had no choice. The black uniformed SS man looked mean and I could see he meant business.

  In the distance I heard the train arriving. Soon the engine came huffing past, spewing white steam as it screeched to a stop, throwing sparks from steel to steel as the engineer applied the brakes. We were ordered to get aboard, I found a seat by a window. We sat there for what seemed like an hour, and then the train pulled slowly away from the station. As the morning light came from the east, I watched the scenery pass with tears filling my eyes and for some unknown reason my mind wondered back to my last day of high school in my home town in the good old Southwest USA.

  The road leading to the school bus stop was as dusty as I had ever seen it. We hadn’t had any rain in so long I had forgotten how good rain felt. The best thing today had brought was my last day in high school. Oh, how long I had waited for this day. No more Mr. Simmons, the teacher I disliked, he didn’t like me either. No more walks to the bus stop. Next Friday, I would graduate and Monday I would go to work steady for my Uncle Bob, an architect. I’d spent the last two summer school vacations in his office as a gofer, I made four dollars a week. Not bad in 1934 for a kid my age, we’re in a depression, you know.

  As I reached the top of the hill and looked back at our house in the valley below, I spent some time thinking of my family. I continued onto the bus stop and sat on the bench there as I had done so many times before. Four long years, I could hardly wait to get out of school. About my family, let me tell you about my Mother, the light of all our lives, she met my dad in 1916. She was studying to be a teacher, a French teacher, she had come from France as a small girl, her family lived in Louisiana. My dad had joined the Army and was stationed at Camp Polk. They met at a carnival on a hot July night and a hot romance developed. They got married three weeks later.

  My older brother Tom was born nine months later. I came into the world twelve months after Tom. Dad stayed at Polk for the rest of the war as a rifle instructor. He felt cheated not to get to France. My baby brother Albert was born six years later on my Grandpa’s cattle ranch where we all lived. My mother’s older brother Bob went to France as an airplane pilot stayed and married an English nurse after the armistice. Her name is Helen, a lady I dearly loved. Bob studied architecture in Paris and Germany. He came home to the city near us and started an architecture office in partnership with Clem Hanson, a man he met in Europe. Their business was very successful to say the least; you might say he’s rich, he has a fine home, two big cars and an airplane, but they have never had any children, he took us kids as his own.

  Tom worked for Bob the summer of his sixteenth year and he was so crazy about airplanes Uncle Bob helped to teach him to fly, much against mother’s wishes; I might add. Today he’s working as a barnstorming pilot, not too bad for a kid of nineteen. Me, I like the office better. Albert loves the ranch and horses. I went to work for Uncle Bob steady that summer and lived with Helen and Uncle Bob at their home. I would make eight dollars a week and pay Helen two dollars a week for my board.

  Yeah, I graduated Friday, not at the top of the class, I might add. If you don’t want to hear my story, you might as well drop out now.

  When I went to work that Monday it was a red letter day. I met Gloria, a twenty year old beauty; WOW, what a beauty! She had started to work in Bob’s office the week before. Let me tell you about this girl, she would take any guy’s breath away as she did mine. She was five-nine, one hundred and ten pounds; a blonde haired, voluptuous beauty with an hour glass body.

  Oh, I want to tell you the first time she spoke to me I was so tongue tied I could hardly speak. My God, this woman was beautiful, honey dripped from her lips, but I got over it and we became good friends…you might say more than good. I’ll tell ya more about her later.

  My first encounter with beautiful girls was on the ranch. You see my Dad hired a Mexican cowboy with a family. We had a house on the ranch where help could live. Juan, the cowboy, moved in with his family. Juan, my Dad said, was the best hand he had ever seen. He was a good guy in every way. Juan had a good looking, hard working wife and three daughters. Two were young and Maria was my brother Tom’s age. Of course, Maria went to school with us. She was the best looking girl I had ever seen. All the boys at school went mad over her. She, I think, was sweet on Tom, but he never paid any attention to girls.

  Anyway, here’s what happened to me. Some years ago Grandpa and Dad built a dam across a spring stream that was fed from the mountains. They hollowed a little low place and made a small pond, it was about an acre big. Grandpa wanted to grow catfish but never did. Through the years, the pond became a really nice spot, Mom planted willow trees around the pond and cattails in the pond. The pond was about five foot deep in the middle and three foot deep along the sides. My brothers and I learned to swim in that pond.

  In the summer time, if you needed to cool off, a dip in the pond was a good idea. Everyone loved the pond; Juan and his family used it as much as we did. One Saturday, all the people had gone to town to shop. It was my junior year of High School vacation. I had to stay home to feed the horses at feeding time. It was a hot day so I decided to go for a dip, the pond was about half a mile from the houses.

  Down I went, stripped off and jumped in. Paddling around, I stood up in the north end. There looking at me through the cattails was a naked Maria. Holy cow, was that a surprise. She said in a sultry voice; “FRANK, come here.” As you can surmise, nature took its course. I became rather found of all females and was no longer a virgin.

  While I was in Europe, Mom wrote that Maria married a man at the bank where she worked. That time with Maria helped me get over being shy around the fairer sex.

  More about my family. Grandpa came from Germany and met Grandma in Illinois, she is from the old school of German girls. She was so clean she squeaked and you must talk slow to her as she still spoke mostly in German. It helped us kids to learn a little of the German language, we also got some French from mother.

  Let me continue. Grandpa came west and homesteaded the ranch we all lived on. It was a real cattle ranch with about twelve hundred head of mother cows, a real cow-calf operation. Five bulls and thirty or so horses. Five full time cowboys helped my Dad, he was the foreman. During branding and roundup time, we had another five or six come in to help. Enough said about the ranch.

  Let me get back to Gloria, I like to talk about her. What red blooded American boy wouldn’t? I had to take some drawings and specifications to a customer in a small town sixty miles north of our city, since I didn’t have a driver’s license Uncle Bob had Gloria drive me in the company Model A. On the way back, she taught me about the birds and bees. She was a great teacher, I want-a tell ya, I won’t tell about the particulars, but it was a great day in my life, she was awesome to say the least.

  I knew something of the birds and bees living on a cattle ranch, but as far as humans went, I knew very little, except what Maria taught me. The folks never told us boys about that. Well anyway, we got along fine that summer. I got my driver’s license so she didn’t come with me any more on out of town trips. Oh crap, that was bad for me. We still got together on the weekends, I would borrow the office Model A and we’d take a ride out in the country and sometimes had ourselves a picnic. Those were the days, my friend; I hoped they would never end.

  Around about September I looked for and purchased a Harley-Davidson motorcycle. The thing was almost as old as I was, b
ut she ran like a top and besides Gloria like to ride with me. We spent many a pleasant Sunday afternoon on that bike.

  Uncle Bob got me to working on the drawing board. I’d do specifications, building material estimates and a few drawings of buildings I made up in my head, you know, office buildings, private houses and so on. Heck, it was fun and I really liked to do it. Uncle Bob told everyone I was a natural architect. He’d laugh and say, “Boy, you may be the next Frank Lloyd Wright.” I liked hearing that.

  Well, any way, the next spring Tom came to town with a new biplane. On Sunday afternoon, Tom invited the folks down to the airport to see a few stunts with this airplane. Somehow the whole dang town turned out at the airport for the show, all our folks came. I want-a tell-ya, Tom did things in that airplane I didn’t think were possible, he turned that plane inside out. Why, all the people were gasping for breath just watching. Mom almost fainted when he came upside down across the runway. His head wasn’t more than forty feet off the ground.

  That Gloria kept saying, “That’s your brother? I want-a meet him.” I thought the jig was up with her and me.

  The family had supper at Aunt Helen’s and Uncle Bob’s that evening. Of course, I introduced Gloria to Tom, he didn’t bat an eye. I thought to myself he must have gone blind in that airplane. That girl couldn’t keep her hands off him, it was so obvious my Mom took her aside and told her something I couldn’t hear. Anyway, Gloria stopped pawing him.

  Tom stayed in my room that night and I asked him about Gloria, you know, what he thought of her. He surprised me when he said, “My girl in San Diego would make her look like a shinny boy.” Holy cow, she must be something I said to myself. “Her Dad owns the airport we fly out of. Man, she is the best looking woman I’ve ever seen. I’m gonna ask her to marry me.” When Tom said that, I knew he was no competition. Well, things got bad for me with Gloria anyway.

  This good looking guy came to work in the office; he had just graduated from architect school. Gloria went bonkers for him and likewise him for her. Their romance was the talk of the office and town. Holy cow, she quit talking to me altogether. The next thing I knew, they ran off and got married, that was the end for me and Gloria.

  That winter, Uncle Bob came down sick, I went to visit him in the hospital. Aunt Helen told me he had cancer, a bad kind. Heck, he smoked liked a smoke stack all the time, he was a chain smoker. When he worked, he smoked and drank coffee all day and all night, he worked a lot.

  At the hospital on one of my visits, he wanted to have a heart to heart talk with me. Helen was there when he said to me, “Frank, what are you planning to do with your life?” He really puzzled me.

  “What do you mean Uncle Bob?” I asked.

  “What kind of work do you want to do the rest of your life?”

  “I really haven’t thought about it,” I told him.

  “Frank, you’re a natural architect. If you don’t study that, you’re just gonna waste your time and mine. Now, I’m gonna make you a proposition, are you ready to hear?”

  “Sure,” I was ready.

  “I want you to go to Europe and study like I did. Helen and I will furnish the money, will you go?”

  I couldn’t help it; the tears began to flow down my face. “You are the best uncle a guy could have; you bet I’ll go.” Then I asked, “What’s wrong with studying in this country? You just hired the fellow Gloria married, he studied in this country.”

  “Hell,” he said, “That guy won’t make a pimple on an architect’s ass. He’s just a draft man, that’s all he’ll ever be. You can do that now, I want you to be a real architect. Helen and I have made an account you can draw from any time you want. There’s money in it to last a few years. Money will be sent to you every month as long as you stay in school. Will you go?” How could I say no?

  That next Sunday I rode the motorcycle home and had Mom’s usual pot roast for dinner. After dinner, we all went out on the front porch. Grandpa sat in his rocker, Mom and Grandma in the porch swing and Dad walked back and forth. I sat on the railing and told the folks the proposition Uncle Bob had offered me. Dad was the first to speak. “Looks to me like there’s gonna be trouble over there. Have you read the papers about the goings on in Europe? Some reports say there are war clouds forming in Germany. Frank, you sure don’t want-a be caught in one of their wars. I’d give it a lot of thought before you make up your mind.”

  Grandpa said, “Na, the German people know all about war, they ain’t gonna let no one lead them into war again, it’s all talk.”

  My Dad got hot under the collar. “What are you talking about, Dad? Haven’t you been reading the papers? Hell, the people there think this guy Hitler is the second coming of Jesus Christ. Frank, I’d think along time about going over there. What do you think, honey?” he asked my Mom.

  “I don’t think Bob would send him over there if there was any danger. I think it would be good for him to go and get a good education. He’ll never get a chance like this again, he should go.”

  Grandma added her two cents, “Fred,” my Dad’s name was Fred, “We German people are good. They won’t let anybody start another war over there. I say go, Frank, and learn all you can.”

  Dad was hot again. “Damn, you people sure don’t see things the way I do. I’ll bet my last dollar there’s going to be another war, even the radio is talking war.”

  I really hadn’t given a war any thought at all. All I wanted was a good education and Uncle Bob had given me a way to get one. I told my Dad, “I would like to go, even if war comes, it won’t bother me, I’ll just stay out of the way.”

  “Frank, you’re old enough to make up your own mind. If you must go, go, but I’ll be worried until you get back home.”

  It was all set with the folks. I was going to Europe to study architecture. Hot dog, I may be a big shot some day, like my Uncle Bob.

  My next visit to Uncle Bob in the hospital, he told me he had sent money to the schools in France and Germany. “An endowment I set up years ago, I have written letters informing them you’re on the way. There are some people I know over there who will help you if needed. What you must do is make a portfolio of drawings of buildings you would like to build. They will ask to see some of your work. Go to the office and design a modern structure and a church, they like churches. Tell Clem to help, he’s damn good at evaluating good work.”

  I did. I made all kinds of drawings until Clem said enough. He even told me he liked my work.

  Uncle Bob came home from the hospital, I spent several days talking with him. He said he was feeling better and would be okay, I was sure glad to hear that. He told me to go to the White Horse department store and fit myself with a whole new wardrobe. I did…two new suits with vests and two pair of pants, an overcoat, two pairs of shoes and new underwear, I also got a suitcase and a small trunk, I was ready to go to Europe.

  The day came; I got on a train headed for New York City and a boat to Europe. All the folks, Aunt Helen, Uncle Bob and people from the office all came to see me off. As I sat by a window and waved to the folks, a strange feeling came over me as the train pulled slowly away and they all disappeared in the distance. I was homesick already, I had never been more than one hundred miles from home in my entire life.

  Chapter 2

  Rita and the Ship

  On the train, I sat next to a window so I could wave good-bye to the folks, there were plenty of seats available. Soon, a railroad man came to me, he had a badge that read {Conductor} on his cap. He asked for my ticket. “New York City,” he said, “Young man, that’s a long trip, you can get food in the dining car, have you ridden a train before?”

  “No sir. My first time.”

  “Have you any questions I can answer for you?” He was a nice man to ask.

  “Do I change cars on this trip?”

  “No, we will change engines two times. Just stay in this car, it will take you right into Grand Central Station in New York City.”

  For a dumb Southwest hick, I was ple
ased to know I would not have to worry about changing trains. As I looked around, I found that my car was fairly empty. At the next stop, that changed. Two large families got on, there were eight kids ranging from about four to fourteen. The whole scene changed and got very loud. Oh well, I couldn’t do anything about that, but I couldn’t get any sleep.

  Around noon, a young boy came thru and sold me a box lunch and a drink. A sandwich, an apple and an orange Nehi soda pop. The afternoon dragged on. About five p.m., my hunger returned, I went looking for the conductor and found him two cars back. He told me I could get dinner in the dining car father on back, I found it and an empty table. A white coated young Black man brought me a menu. It had my full attention until a sexy female voice asked, “May I sit at your table?”

  I looked up to see the most gorgeous woman I had ever laid eyes on. I stood up and said, “I would be pleased to have your company.” Gloria had cured my tongue tied posture with beautiful ladies. This lady slid into the chair like a swan, I was completely captivated by her looks. The man brought her a menu, I had lost all interest in food, I just sat watching her.

  She asked, “Have you ordered?”

  “No, not yet.”

  The waiter came and we both ordered. This was a most pleasant meal, this trip was looking up for me. She asked where I was bound for. When I told her New York City, she said she was going there, too. What a break for me, we sat talking over coffee.

 

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