Just got an advance review copy of War Bonds!
I’m thrilled with the layout and design! It’s so wonderful to see this book and these stories coming to life.
Tag: WWII
Naval Aviator and WWII hero Robbie Robinson, dies
Just learned that Naval aviator Robbie Robinson passed away last week.
Robbie survived a horrific plane crash in the Pacific during WWII. Here’s an excerpt from his chapter “Wings of Gold.”
Robbie survived a horrific plane crash in the Pacific during WWII. Here’s an excerpt from his chapter “Wings of Gold.”
Robbie took off from his ship, the U.S.S Manila Bay with a full payload of bombs. The crew didn’t spot any enemy activity and at dusk they headed back to the ship.
The weight of the explosives made an already tricky landing more difficult. As they made their approach, Robbie knew they were in trouble. “Without warning the plane lurched and trembled. Like a goose hit in the wing by a volley of shot we plummeted into the Pacific with terrifying finality.”
The plane smashed into the water, shattering on impact. Cascades of water tossed him about like limp seaweed. Blown from the aircraft and barely conscious, he tripped the release on one side of his May West lifejacket, and it partially inflated, supporting his head.
He was plucked from the sea by the crew of a nearby destroyer. Later that night he learned that his radioman, George Driesback Jr., and his gunner, Harold Eckert, had been killed on impact. “They never had a chance,” he said. “They were in the belly of the plane.”
RIP Robbie Robinson. Thank you for your service and for sharing your story with me.
Long before e-mail, there was V-Mail
During WWII V-Mail (Victory Mail) was the primary way servicemen were able to communicate with their loved ones back home.
In this note, Ray Stone writes to his wife “I think about you always Betty. The feeling and the love I have for you has grown into something much deeper than small talk & sayings.”
He wrote this from Belgium during the Battle of the Bulge.
The horrors of war became most apparent to the young paratrooper when he and his company liberated Camp Wobbelin in Germany. They found 1,000 dead– mostly Jews and another 3,000 dying prisoners in the compound.
Stone went on to become a lifelong educator, eventually serving as mayor of Coeur d’Alene, Idaho and received the Raoul Wallenburg Award, as well as the Eisenhower Liberation Medal.
Ray and Betty Stone’s story is featured in a chapter titled, “Fireworks.”
Name the WWII Generals
Fenton Roskelley, the soldier featured in a chapter called, “The Luck of the Draw,” snapped this photo in 1945. He’d been sent to set up a journalism school for the troops in allied-occupied Germany.
Can you identify the three famous generals in this photo?
Every Two Minutes a Memory Disappears
According to the National WWII Museum, approximately every two minutes a memory of World War II – its sights and sounds, its terrors and triumphs – disappears.
That’s because our WWII vets are dying at a rate of 555 a day. By 2036, it is estimated there will be no living veterans of World War II left to recount their experiences.
I am so grateful to have been able to meet and interview so many of these amazing veterans. Their stories are important and deserve to be shared.
Fundraiser for WWII vet who died destitute
This story from the Huckleberries Online newspaper blog broke my heart. That one of our heroes should die alone and destitute seems unthinkable. Bless the generous donor who paid for his fune
A brave combat veteran of the storied 10th Mountain Division who recently died destitute will be honored with a “Beer and Brats” fundraiser on November 2, 2014 at St. John the Baptist Orthodox Church in Post Falls. Jim Ayers, who served in the 10th Mountain Division during World War II as the United States Army fought its way across Italy, recently died destitute and without any surviving family members and his funeral costs were paid by a generous anonymous donor. St. John the Baptist Orthodox Church is holding a memorial “Beer and Brats” fundraiser to reimburse this donor for those costs/Jennifer Dancy, of St. John the Baptist Orthodox Church, Post Falls. More here.
This fundraiser will be held on Sunday Nov. 2nd from 1-3 PM at St John the Baptist Orthodox Church in Post Falls located at 4718 E. Horsehaven Avenue. Visit http://www.stjohnorthodox.org/directions.html for directions.
Rest in peace Harvey Shaw
Harvey Shaw at the wheel of the USS Kwajalein, 1944
Just received word that this handsome sailor died October 7. Harvey Shaw was a kind and gentle man who dropped out of high school during WWII and enlisted in the US Navey because he liked to swim!
He was proud to have served his country, but even prouder of his 64-year marriage to his wife, Bonnie and of their six children.
Rest in peace, Harvey. Thank you for your service and for sharing your story with me.
Patriotism on Parade
In 2010, I accompanied a group of Pearl Harbor Survivors during an annual Armed Forces parade in my hometown. The reaction of the crowd to this small group of heros showed me just how much Americans value the men and women who served our country during WWII and solidified my desire to write War Bonds.
Here’s the column I wrote about that event. 
Ray Daves, Cindy Hval and Denis Mikkelsen
When I received an invitation to appear in this year’s Armed Forces Torchlight Parade, I had mixed feelings. My only previous parade experience hadn’t gone well.
In seventh grade I rode on our church youth group’s float in Moses Lake. The theme? Daniel in the Lion’s Den. I had a major crush on the guy chosen to be Daniel, so I agreed to ride on the float. I pictured myself as one of the angels sent by God to shut the lions’ mouths. Instead, they made me a lion, complete with furry suit and painted-on whiskers. My mane was made of cardboard, and I kept poking my fellow feline’s eyes with every turn of my head.
Did you know Moses Lake gets very warm in the spring? I sizzled and sweated through the parade and my black whiskers ran like polluted rain down my cheeks. Then I started sneezing. The “den” was made out of hay bales, those being plentiful in Moses Lake. That’s how I found out I’m allergic to hay. By the end of the parade my eyes were swollen shut, and “Daniel” hadn’t even noticed me growling at his feet.
However, the Torchlight parade would be different. The theme was “Freedom is not Free,” and instead of a float made of hay bales I’d been ask to accompany the Pearl Harbor survivors on a military truck. I’ve written several stories about these incredible folks over the years, and they’ve kind of adopted me. I was so honored by the invitation, I would have said yes even if they wanted me to wear a lion costume.
So on parade day, I boarded the truck with five Pearl Harbor survivors ranging in age from 86 to 93. Among them: Warren and Betty Schott, who were both on Ford Island when the bombs began to fall.
Denis Mikkelsen who was sleeping aboard the USS West Virginia and woke to the sound of chaos. When the order came to abandon ship he dived into the harbor.
Sid Kennedy at the Naval Air Station Kaneohe, watched the planes swoop in. “Look at the show the Army’s putting on,” he’d said. Then he saw the red circles on the aircrafts’ wings.
And Ray Daves was on his way to breakfast when he looked up to see the first bomb hit Ford Island. He prayed, “God, don’t let it get my friend, Jim.”
The memories of Dec. 7, 1941, are seared into the minds of this small band of survivors. Each year their number dwindles, yet those who are able agree to appear in the parade, not for cheers or accolades, but to honor the thousands of Americans who did not survive the attack on Pearl Harbor.
Joining us on the truck were the survivor’s family escorts and Jean Flechel, widow of a Pearl Harbor survivor. The sun warmed us as we waited for the start of the parade and at last we began our slow trek through city streets.
Much has been said and written about the decline of patriotism in America and how younger generations don’t seem to honor the flag and our country the way our forebears did.
This may be true, but it certainly wasn’t what I observed that night. Almost without exception men, women and children leapt to their feet as our truck went by. Teenage boys took off their ball caps, men saluted or put their hands over their hearts and the applause was deafening. Amid the clapping I heard shouts of, “God bless you!” and “We love you,” but mostly what I heard were these words shouted over and over again: “Thank you! Thank you for your service.”
I heard teenage girls scream as if Justin Bieber was in town. I watched grown men weep and small children wave and clap while others stood somberly at attention as the truck passed.
Some may believe our country has lost its way and its citizens no longer value the tenets upon which our nation was built. But what I experienced in the company of American heroes that night, filled me with hope.
Maybe we haven’t forgotten what is most important, after all.
Cindy Hval 