Peter Radonic

Other (US ARMY 7th Infanrty Div. 184 Reg, C company)

One day while we were on a routine patrol and training exercise, while we were taking this small hill, our company commander received a totally unexpected message.

President Truman had announced that one bomb dropped on a city in Japan had destroyed a city of 250,000 people. We later found out that city was Hiroshima. We also heard that a demand was sent on to Japan demanding immediate unconditional surrender.

This was great news to us, we were elated, excited and very happy. We were called off of our exercise, told what was going on and were told to regroup in a single file line, led by the scouts, for return to base. No one wanted to step on a mine or trip a booby trap at this stage of the game.

At base Thomas had acquired a short-wave radio from one of his regimental headquarters buddies which was placed in the mess tent. This was an extremely popular place to hang out as we awaited further developments. We listened to the short-wave broadcasts out of Guam. The reception was not that good as the signal faded in and out. Many of us, me included stayed through the night waiting for Japan’s answer. The date was August 6, 1945.

Three long days went by without an answer from the Japanese. The Americans dropped another bomb on a small Japanese city, this was Nagasaki on August 9, 1945. The following day the Japanese answered, offering a conditional settlement. Their demand was that their emperor retains his power.

After three days on August 14th, the Japanese offered an acceptance of the allied peace terms. When the acceptance was broadcast we went nuts. In my judgment no single event in human history triggered such overwhelming joy worldwide. On Okinawa where we were already training for the invasion of Japan, our happiness and relief bordered on insanity. It seems that every gun on land and on every ship around the island was firing tracer bullets into the air. We put on our steel helmets and watched this magnificent fireworks display that, like our feelings, was indescribable. World War II had ended, all that was needed now was the paperwork.

On September 2, 1945 aboard the battleship USS Missouri, in Tokyo Bay, General Douglas MacArthur signed for the allies the peace accords imposed upon Japan.

I learned much about myself during my stay on Okinawa. I had faced death, many days and nights. I survived not through superior knowledge or skill but through just plain dumb-ass luck. Being in the right place at the right time was all that was important.

I was surrounded by true heroes, who received little or no recognition. Honest, dependable loyal men who really were boys frightened to death most of the time, yet did their job the best they knew how

Submitted by:
Robert J. Corpus
San Jose, CA - United States

Relationship to Storyteller:
Youth volunteer

Robert Reed

Howard Renforth

Virginia Reynolds

(Maiden Name: Foley)

Red Cross

Born: 1918

Residence: Redwood City, CA United States

Original home: Minneapolis, MN United States

August 14, 1945 By Virginia Foley Reynolds

An energetic robin had chirped me awake early that Tuesday morning of Aug. 14, 1945, as he had done every day since June when I’d come home - at last - to those oak, elm and maple-shaded trees in beautiful Minneapolis where I had grown up.

For 2 years I’d been an American Red Cross girl serving in the 231st Station Hospital in East Anglia, that thumb in the mitten of England, and later, in a service club in Kinston-on-Thames or, as we called it then, “Buzz Bomb Alley”. D-Day had come and gone. I’d married my handsome soldier, Jack, the war in Europe had ended and I’d sailed back to America on the Queen Mary.

It should have been the happy ending to a war-time love story, but my husband was still in England and expecting to be sent out to the Pacific, for the fighting and killing there had continued in force.

I remember a quiet day. It was my sister, Margie’s day off from her volunteer hospital job and she and her friends had gone down town to do some shopping. My mother and I were chatting in our screened - in back porch as I waited and hoped for a call from London where Jack was waiting to be shipped out.

Suddenly that quiet was shattered.

“EXTRA! EXTRA! Read all about it!” shouted those little newsboys who were sent to outlying neighborhoods to trumpet headline events – murders, cyclones, horrific happenings. Today! Today it was different. The War? It’s over?

Mother turned the Emerson radio on to WCCO where the announcer almost roared the news. “The war is over! The war is over!”

When the phone rang, it was Daddy calling from his law office. “Mary, The war is over!” Our neighbor, Mrs. Almars hurried up our walk to ring the doorbell while her son, Buddy was shooting off his cap gun.

What a time! What relief! What memories! Oh, how I wanted to celebrate, to join in the euphoria, but my stomach was churning.

In my mind’s eye I saw our soldiers, still far from home - still in the trenches, still lying wounded in hospitals and on the battlefields. I thought of my friends - too many friends - who would never come home again - Pete Crandal, Sid Larson, Wells Hodgson and Al Belanger who was my dearest college pal, like a brother I never had. And I thought of my husband, still waiting to come home to me.

The neighborhood cheering escalated. The phone rang again and the doorbell. Daddy drove into the driveway and raced up the steps. It was delirious and exciting and mad and my heart lifted. I looked out from that back porch of ours and there sat my cheerful robin. He had chiseled a beetle from the lawn and had flown to a low-hanging branch of the red maple.

All would be well with the world - AT LAST!

Submitted by:
Mel Locke
Santa Cruz, CA - United States

Relationship to Storyteller:
Adult volunteer

Anne Roders

Other (student), Civilian

I remember going downtown also known as Sixth Avenue in Kenosha, Wisconsin. I was 18 years old and had graduated from high school in June. I lived in an Italian neighborhood and hung around with 5 other Italian girls. We all went downtown, stores remained open and everybody was shouting, "It's Over!", as we walked and rode around. It was very exciting and many tears were also being shed.

I considered the date (August 14) a miracle because it was the eve of the Assumption. The war started on December 7, the eve of the Immaculate Conception. Both holy days of the Blessed mother of the patroness of our country.

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

Relationship to Storyteller:
Adult volunteer

James Rolphes

David Rossenberg

U.S. Army

Having entered military service on June 1st, 1944, David A. Rossenberg served under General Hodges 310th regiment in Germany as an infantry rifleman. He believed WWII was a necesary war and when asked what he did, he said he was kiling Germans, capturing land and heading to Berlin. On April 13, 1945 he was riding on a tank. Shortly after the tank had entered a village, a rocket fired at them and he was hit. He lay on the ground thinking his arm had been blown off until a medic arrived and told him he still had his arm attached, and more importantly, he had a million dollar wound. He spent the last day of the war in a hospital, where beer was given out at the good news.

Submitted by:
Alan D. Ramey
Healdsburg, CA - United States

Relationship to Storyteller:
Youth volunteer

Mary Roulet

Josef Rozenberg

BETTY RULE

(Maiden Name: MANKER)

Civilian

Well I remember V-J Day!! I was a 21 year old bride of 2 days. My husband was a T-5 draftee in the U.S. Infantry. He was on a short leave stationed temporarily in San Pedro California. He was on the schedule to be shipping out in 10 days to the Eastern war zone after serving almost 2 years walking, warring, starving in the German battle zones. His 30 day return from abroad service was running low when we married Aug. 12, 1945 and were on a short drive to San Francisco where we had tickets to leave for St. Louis where his family were going to meet his new bride!

We stopped in a nice, small, friendly appearing roadside bar and grill as we were approaching Palo Alto for lunch (sorry I don’t remember the name). We were sitting at the bar having a cold beer after a hot car ride awaiting our order to arrive when all heck broke loose. The radio was playing when there came an announcement of Japan’s surrender and the war was over!! Horns blew, music was playing, red white and blue streamers were everywhere. The bar tender locked the door, passed out free drinks and a wonderful gift of a pair of nylons for the women as we hadn’t been able to buy them anywhere for months. Under the bar he dug up several cartons of cigarettes that had not been seen in ages- real brands we had been used to before the war, Camel, Chesterfield, Pall Mall. We’d become used to seeing unknown and not-so-good brands like Kools and Fatima(can’t remember any more of the unknown brands) but I do remember waiting in at least half hour long lines to get whatever brand was available for purchase.

Everything was all on the house since most of the fellows there were in uniform and were for the moment “royalty.” Instead of an hour’s break for a meal, we enjoyed a room full of laughter, fun, lots of new friends and enjoyed the noon repast party to the fullest for a couple hours.

We did eventually get to San Francisco and our train ride to St. Louis much more relaxed, happy and I was more ready to meet the new in-laws!!

P.S. When we returned about 3-4 days later and he reported back to base, he was told to turn in his newly issued suntan uniform since his assignment in Japanese area had been cancelled and his discharge would be handled in about 30 dayss. It was and we began life as a happy healthy civilian couple-him working for the same old govt., but in the post office instead of the Army and me at the same insurance company as before. Just 5 months short of 50 years as a couple, I’m alone but enjoying my family and life in the slow lane. Yes, I remember V-J Day very well. I’m 86 now and thinking back on it like it was yesterday.