Herbert Mahler

Ruth Mallett

Civilian

My memories of August 14, 1945 are so varied. One moment of joy and laughing, and the next moment crying. I was caring for my little daughter when I heard the war had ended. I picked her up and joined my neighbors to see what was going on in our city. People were singing, laughing and dancing in the street. We didn't stay and join them, instead we went home to listen to the announcements on the radio.

I'm sure that there isn't one word that could sum up our thoughts. Sadness for those left behind and happiness for those coming home.

Submitted by:
Linda A. Laurie
Poway, CA - United States

Relationship to Storyteller:
Adult volunteer

Shirley Mann

(Maiden Name: Batt)

Civilian, Other (a small school girl in elementary school)

I lived in San Diego all through WW11. I was raised with "blackouts" when my Dad who was our Block Warden and had to go out and be sure everyone had their black shades pulled and no light would lead a possible enemy plane to our area. We experienced rationing of food, gasoline and even shoes! Only if you had a "ration stamp" could you even expect to purchase any of these items. The "Tooth Fairy" left Savings or Victory stamps under my pillow when I lost a tooth. Not money as is now the tradition. My mother stood in line for hours when she heard Christmas tree lights had been obtained from somewhere. That year our tree was bright. I had several cousins and two brother-in-laws who were in the service. For the ones overseas, we often didn't hear from or about them for months. One of my aunts was "Rosie the Riveter" at Consolidated our local air factory. My dad worked 7 days a week with no vacation for several years repairing aircraft engines. The furtherest we got from home was a campground about 50 miles away. I waited daily to hear, on our Philco radio, Gabriel Heather tell us if there was "Good or Bad news tonight." There was through out this time an aura of intense patriotism. We were all pulling for the same thing...peace so we could sleep soundly at night. When we heard the war was about to be over, my extended family planned a grand party. We waited patiently until that moment. What a feeling of pure joy I experienced that evening, August 1945. I thought that life from that moment would be perfect. Of course that wasn't true, but at age ten I thought it would. I thank God that I did live through those years. I learned the definition of pride in Country, care for our fellow citizens, and the wonder of Peace!

Grace Marker

Tony Martin

Art Martinez

Elisabeth Maugeri

Bonnie McCrary

Kenneth McLyman

Hugh McNaughton

Sheldon Merel

Other (I was 2nd Engineering officer on a Liberty ship carrying grain to Bizerte, North Africa.), U.S. Merchant Marine

I was a 2nd Engineering officer on a Liberty Ship of the U.S. Merchant Marine, that arrived at Bizerte, North Africa to deliver a load of grain. The European war had just ended,and the crew celebrated by swimming in the beautiful Mediterranean.

I suddenly had tremendous abdominal pain, and the only M.D. availble was a French Foreign Legion doctor, who diagnosed it as inflamed appendicitis.

I was driven to a French Naval Hospital in Ferryville for surgery, where only the Surgeon spoke English. Since the latest medications were not available there, I spent two weeks in recovery struggling with limited High School French to communicate.

My ship consequently returned to the United States without me, and I went to the city of Tunis to await a ship home. Although I was still in Tunis, the moment my ship docked in the U.S. my pay stopped! This was the plight of being in the Merchant Marine.

Merchant Marine officers and seaman of WW II did not receive the G.I. Bill of Rights, and only after 40 years after the war, were granted Veteran Status. TOO LATE!

Robert Metcalf

Carl Meurell

Marjory Miller

War bride (New Zealand) , Other ((war fiance))

I was working in overseas banking remillance at Bank of NZ, the main branch with 250 employees. We all went out on Queen Street, the main street, to cheer and hear the city bells and sirens. Everyone was elated and excited and we danced and hugged.

My fiance, my 3rd cousin, was at Clark Field, Manilla and he was sent to Brisborne with 2 other officers to write up an evaluation of the war in the Pacific. He went to see General Kenny and asked permission if he could make the report in 2 months instead of 3 so he could leave to be married in New Zealand. My father stated that I had to be 21 and the wedding was to be in New Zealand. My fiance had previously sent me his parachute from Guadacanal and a dressmaker had made my gown.

I was 21 on Sept.23, 1945 and our wedding was on Tuesday Nov. 13th, 1945. It would have been November 12 except my husband saw oil leaking out of the 2nd engine and notified the Pan Am flying boat cockpit. The steward came to the cabin, leaned over my husband's seat and watched for 2 mins. Four civilian Englishmen were sitting opposite with a bottle of scotch and never offered the US Major a drop. Next came the co-pilot , smiled at the Englishmen, leaned over my fiance's seat for a minute and returned to the cockpit. Next came a jovial captain, minus his cap, smiled at the Englishmen and leaned over my husband's seat for 30 seconds. Next thing the plane made a 180 degree turn back to Sydney under the Sydney bridge. Those 4 Englishmen argued for the next 3 hours as to why the sun was on the other side.

Meanwhile, the overseas tellers had seen me waiting at the pier and went back to the bank and told them I had been held up by my Yank. Next day when he arrived we all had smiles and I was happy as I had waited 2 1/2 years since I had seen my Danny Boy!

Submitted by:
Linda A. Lauirie
Poway, CA - United States

Relationship to Storyteller:
Adult volunteer

Louie Minkin

Rosie Mitchell

Ann Mix

(Maiden Name: Ann Bennett)

Other (WWII Orphan)

Ann Marie Bennett aka Mix around 4 years old. Bakersfield, California.

Born: 1940

Residence: Moses Lake, WA United States

Original home: Bakersfield, CA United States

My father, Sydney W. Bennett was killed April 19, 1945 in Mongiorgio, Italy while serving with the 10th Mountain Division, 87th Mt Infantry. He died 13 days before the Germany surrendered. The end of WWII came four months later with the surrender of Japan.

I was four and ½ years old when my Dad died and almost 5 when the war ended. My mother had talked to my brother and told him our father was killed but no one talked to me as they believed I was too young to understand.

When the Victory came, I was still waiting in my child’s heart for my Daddy to come back. We lived only a half block away from the Main Street of East Bakersfield and I remember standing on the sidewalk with my Mother and Grandmother to view the Victory parade.

We were standing in the same block that contained memories of my father: The pool hall where he liked to go off to play cards and drink beers with his buddies, and the ice cream store where we spent our “bribe” money he gave us to go home when my brother and I would go looking for him; the gas station where he found me on the passenger side running board where I had fallen asleep waiting to “go with him” if he drove away, and the Firestone Store where he worked selling tires and appliances.

I stood watching soldiers in uniform marching towards us in the parade and looking for my Dad. The last time I saw him he was dressed that way. I stared at every face but when they had all walked by and he was not there I began to cry. I clung to my mother’s leg and wailed so loud people were staring at us. “I want my Daddy,” I cried.

My mother and grandmother leaned over me and I looked up into two faces I could not read. My mother said, “I don’t know what to do with her.” They took me by the hand and marched me home. The feelings I felt that day, the outrage, loss, confusion were buried but they never died.

Grief became chronic grief buried in a hole in my being. The energy it took to keep it hidden tempered me into a seriously intense child and adult. The thread that tied me to my Father, to God, and to love was snapped. It dangled inside me, looking for something or someone to attach itself too and make me whole again.

It wasn’t until my late forties that I tried to open the short book that was my father’s life and fill in the blanks. I began to ask questions, to search for records, and look for every clue I could find.

I suddenly realized also that there had to be others out there like me, who had lost their father’s in WWII. I wondered how many were there? Do they feel the same things? How did their lives turn out? These questions led me on a hunt and a journey that changed my life. When I found one other American WWII Orphan by going on a local radio show, and we met, I immediately knew I had to find others and bring us together. From that experience I knew no one would understand us as well as we would each other.

I founded the American WWII Orphans Network (www.awon.org) and dedicated myself to the search for other orphans and we began coming together for the first time. The results were miraculous, and healing. We began to learn from each other, and those dangling threads began to help us find a new way to live and be in a world that had forgotten us long ago.

We all hope that when we send fathers and mothers to war in the future all the children will be acknowledged, and helped to grow-up, and that they will never again be Lost in the Victory.

Submitted by:
Ann Mix
moses, WA - United States

Marv Modell

Other (U.S Coast Guard Intelligence ), U.S. Coast Guard

Born: 1922

Residence: San Jose, CA United States

Original home: New York City, NY United States

The day the war ended on August 14, 1945, is burned sharply in my memory. I received a phone call around 7 A.M from my C.O (Lt. Commander Charles, Jr.). He sounded somewhat impatient, and got right to the point: “Modell, get your ass over to 3rd Naval district office at 17 Battery Place, pick up an envelope from Commander so-and-so. Got it?” Well, I sure got it and was at 3rd Naval Dist. Office within 30 minutes, and I later placed it in Scheffler’s hands at around 8:15 A.M. I have no idea what the envelope contained, only that it was stamped with a warning…”secret material.” I had the strong feeling something big was about to break. And DID it break! Later that day every newspaper blazed: “THE WAR IS OVER, THE JAPANESE SURRENDER!!”

For a few minutes I walked around in a happy daze. Wow! What a feeling. I kept hoping it wasn’t a dream. And it wasn’t, because I was surrounded in the street full of celebrating men, women and children. There were barn fires on street corners and at one, I was surrounded by hysterically happy young women. One of them grabbed my white hat and sailed it into the fire: “Sailor, you don’t need that anymore!”

A personal note here: Following the announcement that the war really ceased, I was left with feelings that were quite unusual for me. I’ve never been a professional flag-waver. But pride in my country was always part of my mind-set. But this time, thinking of what my life will now be about, in my peacetime, I suddenly felt a real, powerful sense of pride in MY outfit, the US Coast Guard. It felt as though I had been honored just to have been part of a grand and heroic group of men and women for almost four years of my life. And if it were possible, I would have gladly shaken the hands of each and every one.

Submitted by:
Cuong K. Le
San Jose, CA - United States

Relationship to Storyteller:
Youth volunteer

Rena Modell

Other (War Bond Office)

Born: 1924

Residence: San Jose, CA United States

Original home: Brooklyn , NY United States

On the morning of August 14th ’45, I awoke to take care of our little baby, Joel Michael. Marv left quite early receiving an early phone call from his Intelligence officer. He left almost immediately on his assignment. Later that morning, with the radio on, I listened to what seemed to be an important news flash. No details, just to keep tuned for further details throughout the day.

In the afternoon, as usual, I bundled Joel in his carriage and left for a leisurely walk to the nearby park. After about one hour in sunshine, I planned to return home. When, all of a sudden, I heard yelling and screaming coming from all directions. I was sure it must have been an automobile accident or maybe, a house fire. As I was almost home, the streets began to fill up with smiling, happy and joyful: “The war is over!” I could hardly believe what I was witnessing. Strangers hugging and kissing each other, music blaring from home and car radios. It was a time of complete joy, one that I shall never forget.

Later that day, my husband called me to confirm the good news. His words were unforgettable…”Rena, our troubles are all over. Now we can start planning for our future. We can have that vacation we’ve been dreaming about. What a day this is! See you in a couple hours. Love you.”

Submitted by:
Cuong Le
San Jose, CA - United States

Relationship to Storyteller:
Youth volunteer

Herb Moore

Willma Moore

(Maiden Name: Morrias)

Civilian

Born: 1924

Residence: San Jose, CA United States

Original home: Hamilton, OH United States

During the war, both of my brothers were drafted and stationed. My brothers kept in contact through writing letters to my mother. When the war was ending, they got out quickly.

Arthur Moore Jr., my husband, volunteered in the Army, and was assigned eastward. 17 men were selected and given the option of discharge or continue their service. The seventeenth named called was Arthur Moore Jr. He was relieved and quickly discharged. He was in the Army for about 4 years while I was attending Ohio State University.

While my husband was in service, he obtained a high ranking. I was very happy when the war was over, and when they said “army occupation” I was worried that Arthur would have to spend more time overseas. Since he was a volunteer they let him come back home to me.

My sister had a husband in service and when she went to see him, I stayed at her home while she was away, and asked me to have one of my girlfriends; we both went to Coney Island, an amusement park. When we walked around and saw two guys laying down on the grass sound asleep. My girlfriend wanted me to wake them up and she did. They hung around all day.

The next week I was at my sister’s house, and the phone rang and it was Art calling to ask if he could come over. We hurried and had a big dinner cooked for them. I was afraid my sister was going to scold me when I had the boys over.

Arthur never spoke about his father because he was afraid that she would run away from them. He wanted to get married, but I wanted to become a hospital dietitian and had to complete my internship. My husband’s father had contacts in the University of Michigan and had a job ready for me. My husband attended college while I completed my internship. I was 23 when we got married 5 days after I finish my internship, on my birthday. I had my first son when I was in college, and after Arthur was out of college.

Relationship to Storyteller:
Youth volunteer

Steven Moreno

U.S. Army, Other (U.S. Army Medic)

During August of 1945, I remembered I was in between the borders of Germany and another country when I learned the war was over. I did not return home until November of that year. It was a happy moment for many of us.

My duty, during the time, was to take care of the wounded before I shipped back home. I didn’t retain many memorable moment during that time except for the feelings I felt.

When I returned to the United States, I promised myself that the first girl I saw when I parked and step foot on ground I would kiss her. It was because I was happy and full of joy to return.

Over the years, I worked at the Tri-State Wood for 10 years and the Westing House for 21 years in Sunnyvale before he retired in 1990.

Memorable moment:
Too harsh, don’t want to remember anything that happened in Germany.

Recent generation should learn:
Don’t join the army and try to live your life as best as you can.

Submitted by:
Diana L. Nguyen
San Jose, CA - United States

Relationship to Storyteller:
Youth voluntee

Audrey Mueller

War bride (United Kingdom)

I was nearly 13 years old and lived in Walthram Abbey, Essex, England. I was seven years old when WWII started and I lived through all the bombings. (We were in a suburb of N.E. London).

Everyone in the cul de sac where we lived brought out tables and chairs and all the food they could find for the huge street party. Food was scarce and rations were small. Someone brought a can of pineapple and that was the first time I'd tasted them. There was dancing and music in the street and a young man gave me my first grown up kiss! I met my ex-husband in 1951 and married him in 1952. Things were still rationed.

Submitted by:
Linda A. Laurie
Poway, CA - United States

Relationship to Storyteller:
Adult voluntee

Ruth H. Mallett

(Maiden Name: Kohnen)

Civilian

Born: 1917

Residence: Santa Cruz, CA United States

Original home: Sioux City, IA United States

My memories of August 14, 1945, are so varied. One moment was one of joy and laughing and the next was a moment of crying. I was crying for my little daughter when I heard the war had ended. I picked her up and joined my neighbors to see what was going on in our city. People were singing, laughing and dancing in the street. We didn’t stay and join them; instead we went home, to listen to the announcements on the radio.

My brother, Johnnie, who was in the Army Infantry and had been in North Africa, at Anzio Beach, and in Italy with General Patton would soon be home. I could hardly wait to see him.

I’m sure that there isn’t one word that could sum up my thoughts and feelings. Sadness for those left behind and happiness for those coming home

Submitted by:
Mel Locke

Relationship to Storyteller:
Adult volunteer