PART FOUR

Rosalia High School

Northwest County

On Land and Sea and in the Air

Warriors, Supply, Support, Civilians

 

Our third set of interviews seemed almost too easy after the big crowds we dealt with earlier in the week.  Marie Meserve, our teacher contact in Rosalia, had recruited the senior class, all seven students, to interview and write for Rosalia High School. 

 

When we first started talking to people in that area about our World War II generation writing project, I spoke to the folks at the Rosalia Senior Center, again asking them to help me find people to interview.

 

The Rosalia seniors meet Tuesdays at noon in the Methodist Church fellowship hall for lunch.  The meal is sponsored in part by Council on Aging, under the guidance of Scott Hallett, our Nutrition Director.  Besides an excellent meal, the group enjoys conversation, a few good jokes, a lot of bad jokes, occasional speakers or musical entertainment, and every week a wonderful American Odyssey travel film which were  produced and directed by their current president, Rudy Schroeder. 

 

Almost everyone in attendance at the senior center told me we should contact two graduates of Rosalia High School, a couple of veterans named Bob Goldsworthy and Don Gelhaus.  I did that, and they both agreed to come to Rosalia from Spokane and Plaza for the interview day. Then slowly but surely we began to find people the other five students could interview.  We ended up with seven who could be there on interview day: one each from Colfax, Garfield, Palouse, St. John, and Spokane, as well as one from Rosalia.  Besides the student interviews,  I also met with one person from Oakesdale, a couple from Rosalia,  and a former Thornton resident who now lives in Dalton Gardens, none of whom could be there on interview day.  So it was that we completed this Part Four assortment.

 

Let's start with our Colfax veteran, Jack Neil.   Neil's daughters ran an ad in the Gazette on his Birthday showing him in an Army uniform, the same picture shown in his story below.  I called Jack without a referral and he readily agreed to an interview.  I later discovered he was familiar with our operations.  Our COAST (Council On Aging Specialized Transportation) Director, Gail Griggs, told me Jack used to drive for COAST.  Here's his story.

 

JACK NEIL

By Dan Ciesielski

Jack Neil grew up in Colfax, Washington.  He graduated from high school there in 1939.  In July of 1940, Jack joined the United States Army;  he was twenty years old.  He said he joined because he wanted to beat the draft and also so he could pick what he would do in the Army.  He joined at Fort George Wright in Spokane, Washington where he went into communications.  He served a total of five years in the Army.  All those years were served here in the United States, in California.

He was first stationed in San Luis Obispo for training and served time in a Harbor Defense unit there.  "Nothing real exciting happened there,"  Jack said.  It was just like another job for him.  He was then sent to Florence, Arizona where he became a Sergeant in Communications.  In Florence he was stationed at a POW camp filled with Italians from the war in South Africa.  Jack spent about two years and four months there.

"They never tried to escape or cause problems at all," according to Jack.  The hardest thing he experienced while on duty there was to keep them from fighting.  There were the Northern Italians and the Southern Italians.  And they would fight all the time.  Then there were the Italians true to the King and there were the Italians true to their communist leader.  Again, fighting ensued.

After he served at the POW camp, Jack was sent to the Coast Artillery at Morro Bay, right on the Pacific Coast of California.  There he and other soldiers were set to guard Avlon Gas, a gas company that was making airplane fuel and was considered to be a prime target of opportunity for the Japanese. 

"One time," Jack said, "A Japanese submarine surfaced and fired eleven shots at the gas tanks, but hit nothing."  The US artillery returned eight shots, but did not hit the sub. 

Jack Neil said that was the most exciting thing that happened to him while he was in the Army.  And yet, he served all those five years between those three places and did his part.  He was discharged as a Sergeant in Communications. 

Jack Neil now resides in Colfax, Washington, where he grew up and worked as a mail carrier plus he worked inside the post office.  He has four daughters and numerous grandchildren.

 

Claire Freeze, a long-time Rosalia resident, handed me a couple of pages of material she has included in a family history.  The first portion of that document contained some excerpts from a diary Claire's sister, Helen Hengen, kept as a teenager.  The entries shown here, all dated in December 1941, are presented unedited.

 

HELEN HENGEN

 

Sunday, December 7, 1941

This afternoon our Swing Band went to a show and then we practiced at our new drummers home in Spokane.  When we got home about 9:00 o'clock Daddy told us we were in war with Japan.  The Japs had killed 300 soldiers and set afire some U.S. ships in the Hawaiian Islands.

We were so surprised and it still seems impossible.  Canada, East Indies and a few more have already declared war on Japan and England will as soon as we do tomorrow.  I got out my last letter from Al Peters to see if the field he is at was the one attacked; it wasn't.  We went to bed and Claire and I listened to the news on our little radio upstairs.  I only hope that it won't last long.

 

Monday, December 8:

This morning Daddy came back from town and said all the war vets had to report; that would include Daddy.  It could be just a story.  We listened to a speech by the President on the radio at school this morning.  One woman senator voted against declaring war.  I don't know what's wrong with her, we can't just sit and watch Japan bomb us.  Tonight we had our first taste of a radio blackout, all Spokane stations went off the air from 5 to 7 and from 8 to 8 in the morning.  Seems funny, I got a San Fransisco station and they announced they had had an air alarm and blackout but the enemy planes turned back to sea.  Before the radio went off, they announced all northwest would have a blackout before 11:00 o'clock to 30 minutes after daylight.  Then they changed it to just cities west of the Cascades.  I wrote to Al in Hawaii.

 

Tuesday, December 9:

Nothing much today.  President gave a speech tonight and another blackout announced and then declared incorrect.  Radio station off again at 8.

 

Wednesday, December 10:

Not much news from Pacific.  Two of Englands largest ships reported sunk.  Practiced basketball after school.  The lodge Christmas party is tonight.

 

Thursday, December 11:

America declared war on Germany and Italy.  The Phillipines are getting it pretty bad.

 

 

 

Friday, December 12:

Drum and Bugle Corp went to Lindberg.  Claire majoretted and I played snare drum.  Good game.

 

Saturday, December 13:

Claire and I went Christmas shopping and got our teeth cleaned and I took a piano lesson from Norm Thue.  They aren't letting much news out on the radio the last few days.

 

The following notes about Helen were added by Claire. 

 

"Helen enjoyed a challenge and ventured off to Moscow for her Junior year, staying with Gramzy and returning to Spangle to graduate with her Class of 1942 as salutatorian." 

 

Helen's Graduation Speech (in part):  "As we look upon the world which we are about to enter as high school graduates, we realize the problems we face will be many.  Instead of the usual two choices, we will have three alternatives.  Should I go on to school, get a job, or join some branch of the service?"

 

Helen concluded her speech with these words:  "In planning our future we must look ahead to the time after the war is won.  Will our young people be trained only in making airplanes or shooting guns?  There will be a great job for our generation in insuring the impossibility of another world war in another 20 years.  We must work out a plan whereby depression, such as we were born in, is this time avoided.  It is imperative that we will have young people, ready for college, being educated to carry on business, scientific research, teaching and in leadership roles for the next decade.  Thus we come to the conclusion we must take advantage of all the opportunities offered us now so when the time comes we shall shoulder the responsibilities in a way that you, our parents and friends, have a right to expect of us.  Thank you."

 

Claire journaled the following comments about the home front war effort fought just north of Whitman County in Spangle. 

 

"We did everything asked of us for the war effort.  At school we took money each week to buy stamps or saving bonds.  Pledges were signed to help our country in anyway we could.  The boys in school knew they would be drafted shortly after graduation and the farmers knew they would have a hard time getting harvest crews.  Helen decided to start taking flying lessons.  One of my favorite lady teachers, Madelyn Carroll, joined the WASPS and sent me a WASP t-shirt like they wore under their uniforms.  We were issued rationing books which would control the purchase of sugar and gasoline.  Sky watches on a hill were organized."

 

The Pledge Claire mentioned read as follows: "This is to certify that Claire Hengen has signed this U.S.A. Consumer's Pledge for Total Defense:  As a consumer in the total defense of democracy, I will do my part to make my home, my community, my country ready, efficient, and strong.  I will buy carefully.  I will take good care of the things I have.  I will waste nothing.  By carrying out the terms of this pledge she has enlisted, is performing a distinguished service in the defense of her country and WINS her star.  She is therefore entitled to WEAR her star which is hereby presented to her by McCALL'S MAGAZINE."  

 

One line in the second to last  paragraph above proved to be an indication of the consummation of Helen's hopes and dreams.  She did indeed take flying lessons when she was just nineteen.  She hoped to get her pilot's license and venture to Alaska.  When she took off on the flight that was to determine if she would receive a license, her final test,  she didn't know that her instructor had forgotten to fill the gas tank on the plane.  The plane went down and Helen didn't live to see how well  her generation would survive the war.

 

This next story is about a sailor who tried hard to stay in the service, but couldn't get past the medical requirements because of what was diagnosed as a bad heart.  He has certainly outlived those concerns.

 

DICK KREIBEL

By Sara Henning

 

Like most World War II veterans who lived in Whitman County when they were young, Dick Kriebel attended a small one-room school, was taught by one teacher, and had twenty to twenty-five students total going to school with him, each varying in age and grade.  The war brought unforeseen changes for everyone, including Dick. 

During the war, numerous things were rationed such as sugar, shoes, and gas.  The school's sports program stopped after the coach left for war.  During Mr. Kriebel's senior year, three classmates joined the Navy before they could finish school, unlike Mr. Kriebel who wasn't drafted until July of 1944, enabling him to graduate.  In July Mr. Kriebel, at the young age of nineteen, along with five other classmates left home to join the Army.

Kriebel was first sent to Fort Lewis where he was inducted into the Army, and then rode on a train to Camp Roberts.  Camp Roberts was a large Infantry base, which became home for Dick for about a year and a half.  Training for soldiers at Camp Roberts included crawling under machine-gun fire, going through gas chambers, digging fox holes to protect them from the tanks that ran over the top of them, searching booby-trapped houses, and bayonet practice.  This training was done to prepare them for real war situations. 

Besides training, twice Kriebel helped fight wild fires on the weekends.  He also helped paint backdrops for one of the stage shows that people from Hollywood acted out for the drafted men.  While at Camp Roberts, Mr. Kriebel was paid fifty dollars a month.  Ten dollars of his paycheck went towards his ten thousand dollar insurance policy.  There was also the chance for extra pay when he would do jobs like painting backdrops.

After six months of 4:30 a.m. wake-up calls and six-mile marches, Dick and others were scheduled to be sent overseas to Okinawa, Japan.  Most of them had hoped to be sent to Europe because they thought that the war was almost over in Europe.  Two weeks before Kriebel was scheduled to leave, he was sent to the hospital with heart trouble so he missed his chance to go overseas to Okinawa and fight the Japanese.  Because of his heart, he was denied approval to go overseas.

Since he was unable to fight, he and others worked doing odd jobs around Camp Roberts.  The worked in the tarp shop, motor pool, and salvage yard.  They disposed of tires and lumber, anything they didn't want to get into the enemy's hands.  Dick, however, found all this ridiculous since many of the things he was asked to dispose of and destroy were items that were currently being rationed.

Once World War II was over, Mr. Kriebel returned home to farm in the Garfield area where he still lives today at the age of seventy-six.  Mr. Kriebel believes that the war changed him because it opened new options for him when he returned home from war, steering him into the direction of farming. 

In some ways Mr. Kriebel feels lucky, since many of those who were sent to Okinawa did not return home.  On the other hand, he so wishes he could have participated in the war overseas and wonders what he missed.  

Although the doctors at Camp Roberts told him he would not live very long because of his heart, Dick Kriebel seems to have proven them wrong.

 

This next man landed in Europe on D-Day and lived to tell about it.  I saw Bob West and his wife at a fund raiser in Palouse on Memorial Day and was pleased to see him wearing his Army uniform jacket, as were several other veterans at the affair. 

 

ROBERT WEST

By Suni Wood

 

Robert West went into World War II when he was eighteen years old because the government had lowered the draft age from twenty-one to eighteen.  Robert was one of the first young men drafted from the Whitman County area.  He went into the Army in February, 1943. 

Robert, or Bob, had his basic training in Louisiana and then he was really in the Army.  He was involved in the European Theater of Operations starting in March 1943.  He was a Corporal and a Company Clerk.

West was involved in the D-Day invasion.  D-Day was quite an adventure for him, but he admits he was a little scared.  He was assigned on a LTS, a Landing Tank Ship.  It was designed to carry armor and troops for amphibious landings.  Robert was one of the first troops on board, for which he was thankful because it was a first come, first served type of thing.  He slept on top of a canvas cover on a truck bed.  A lot of the troops on board had to sleep on hard metal floors.  The first meal they got to eat was creamed chicken on toast, which was good the first day.  But they had to eat it morning, noon, and night for many days and it lost its appeal.

One night Bob was awakened by a strange noise and weird movement of the craft.  Suddenly he knew D-Day was here.  Even though it has been over fifty years, he still remembers what he saw at first light.  He woke up and could see different kinds of ships from horizon to horizon.  The sky was filled with bombers and fighters.  As he sat on top of his bed he saw a scene that seemed like an unreal experience.  It was like he was in a movie theater watching the news.

Next he was on the beach digging a trench, along with his partner Smitty.  They were almost finished when a French couple came by and offered them a bucket of milk.  Robert was excited, because he was a fan of milk and hadn't been able to get any fresh milk to drink since leaving the states.  Their Sergeant stepped up, grabbed the bucket and threw the milk on the ground because he thought it could be poisoned.

A storm blew in on the beach three days after D-Day.  The combat engineers had made a floating dock called "Mulberries" or "Gooseberries."  The storm destroyed a great deal of this and so endangered the supply line. 

Being a company clerk, West was able to go different places and see many different things.  One time he got to stay with a Dutch family, whom he found to be really nice.  Usually when Clerks took over someone's home, they just kicked out the people and looted their houses.  But West was kind to the people and even planned a big Christmas dinner for them, but the week before Christmas The Battle of the Bulge started and he had to leave.  Bob was in one of the first groups to cross the Rhine River.

When he was discharged it was according to the point system.  There were first class, middle class, and lower class points.  Robert was in the middle class, so he got discharged fairly early.

Robert West came from a small town and was only eighteen years old when he went into the war.  He was very naïve when he went into the Army, but when he came out he was a man and looked at things with a new perspective.  "It was a great experience," he said, "but once was enough."

 

When I met Don Gelhaus on interview day I learned he is writing a book about his World War II experiences.  I thought maybe he might need some help pulling it together and said I would be glad to help him.  He said, "Well, thank you.  But Nona Hengen is editing it for me."  I kind of figured with that kind of help he was in pretty good shape.  Look for that book when it comes out.  It should be fascinating!  And well edited.  Ryan had completed this essay just before Memorial Day so I read it at the Council on Aging & Human Services Board of Directors meeting and the Rosalia Senior Meal on the Tuesday after the Memorial Day holiday, just to give them an idea of what we were producing through all the interviewing process, as well as observing the holiday.  Ryan's work was very well received in both camps.

 

DON GELHAUS

By Ryan Leavenworth

 

The men and women who served in World War II are the finest patriots our country has ever seen.  The years between 1940 and 1946 were a true test of our country's ability to come together and fight to preserve all of the rights and freedoms this country was based upon.   The men and women who proudly served our country succeeded in their test and proved to the rest of the world that the United States of America was not going to allow our freedom to be compromised.  Don Gelhaus is a true example of the dedicated American who would risk his life to preserve the ideals of this great country.

Don Gelhaus was a graduate of Rosalia High School in 1940.  He was attending Gonzaga University on a football scholarship when he decided he wanted to become a pilot.  In the fall of 1941 Gelhaus received his pilot's license through the Civilian Pilot Training program.  Upon receiving his pilot's license, he committed himself to the United States Air Force.  In January 1943, he was called to active duty.  He was more than happy to go to war to fight for the country he loved so much.

After attending Fighter Pilot Training he was sent to England to help fight against the Nazi regime in Europe.  He served in the 9th Air Force 367th Fighter Group.  He took part in one of the most dangerous but vitally important parts of the war, that is, low level bombing and strafing.  Mr. Gelhaus commented that they would fly so low they would sometimes find small arms bullets in their planes.  He flew the twin-engine P-38 Lightning for his first twenty-six missions.

From December 16, 1944 through January 28, 1945, Gelhaus was involved in The Battle of the Bulge, which was Hitler's last great offensive against the Allied Forces.  He and his squadron had assigned targets to hit.  After they hit those targets if they had enough fuel and ammunition left they were allowed to hit targets of opportunity, or any target they thought was worth going after.

On February 16, 1945, the 393rd flew their first mission in a P-47 Thunderbolt.  Mr. Gelhaus' plane carried the name Green Devil.  Whenever he mentioned his plane, he was always quick to mention his ground crew who helped so much to keep him in the air.

One of the most memorable P-47 missions he flew was on March 19, 1945.  It was an attack on a castle and complex at Ziegenberg, which was the German Army Headquarters for their entire Western Front.  The 367th Fighter Group was to converge on the castle for the first strike at 1330 hours.  During that time several high-ranking German officers, including General Von Rundstedt, the Nazi leader of the German western front, were reported to be inside the compound.  As it turned out, Von Rundstedt had been replaced by Field Marshal Albert Kesselring who survived the attack by rushing to an underground bunker built into the castle.  After the war, when he was being interviewed by high ranking American officers, Kesselring whined about the United States attacking a position where he was known to be.  The U.S. response to his complaint was, "It was war."

On March 19th of that war, Lieutenant Diefendorf led the P-47s of the 392nd Squadron in a dive bombing attack on the Castle from seven thousand feet, followed by Major Matheson leading the 394th Squadron in a similar attack on the castle and adjoining town of Ziegenberg in which many of the German western front staff lived.  Each plane of the 392nd and 394th carried two one-thousand pound bombs.

Gelhaus' Squadron, the 393rd, followed carrying napalm bombs to burn up what was left.  It was a mission of three separate attacks.  Each squadron flew sixteen airplanes.  Four days later, March 23rd, Major Chester Slingerland, who was Commanding Officer of the 393rd Squadron, was shot down and killed by ground fire on a mission near Griesheim, Germany.

The 367th Fighter Group was stationed at Eschborn Air Force Base West of Frankfurt when the war in Europe ended.  Six of the 393rd Squadron pilots who had flown the Ziegenberg Castle raid drove the thirty miles north to visit and photograph the destruction.

Gelhaus and his 367th fighter group helped the Allies gain total air superiority in Europe so the Germans couldn't even move except during times of bad weather and at night.  On the other hand, the Allies were able to get around with relative impunity.

Another one of Mr. Gelhaus' most vivid memories was that of a Nazi concentration camp.  He got to see first-hand the horror and atrocities that took place in those camps. 

"People are now trying to say that stuff never happened.  But I was there, I saw it, and it was all too real."

Gelhaus' efforts contributed greatly to Hitler's demise.  On May 9th, 1945, all hostilities ceased; the Americans had struck victory in Europe.  His 367th fighter group received two Presidential Unit Citations, two Belgium Army Order of the Day Citations, and many letters of commendation.

I asked Don Gelhaus if he ever felt afraid.  His answer was, "Yes.  But you have to be brave at those times.  Bravery doesn't mean you aren't afraid to do something.  Bravery means you do it in spite of being afraid."

There were millions of men and women who took an active role in helping our country, whether it be troops in the Pacific or Atlantic Theater of Operations or the millions of men and women who helped at home to make certain the Allied troops always had the supplies they needed to survive.  Our country will forever be in a debt of gratitude for those brave and patriotic individuals.  As Americans we need to make sure to show our appreciation to those men and women so their accomplishments and sacrifices will be remembered forever.

 

Way back last year at Thanksgiving time in 2000, I was visiting with Don and Helen Cowan at a St. John community Thanksgiving celebration.  I told them about what was then only a vague idea we had to put together some kind of book.  He then told me about his time in the military and I asked him that evening, "If we actually can figure out how to do a book, would you let a student interview you?"  He almost said yes.  Well, I think he said he would think about it.  But,  I didn't forget.  When I called this spring and asked him to go to Rosalia for an interview, he did say "Yes."  Here is what he shared.

 

DON COWAN

By Levi Van Dyke

 

Don Cowan was born in Naches, Washington.  After a short stay at the University of Washington, war was declared and he signed up with the Navy.  Don liked the Navy because he knew he would always have a bed to sleep in, a roof over his head, and his feet under a table.

He left home after Christmas to go through Basic Training.  He eventually ended up in Bremerton, Washington.  This was nice for Don because it gave him a chance to go visit his family before heading out to the Atlantic.  Don also had five brothers who served in the military during World War II.  This made it a hard time for his parents and family, but all their sons returned home safely following the war.

After his good-byes he left Bremerton to join up with other aircraft carriers in the Atlantic Ocean fleet.  This fleet's main purpose was to search and destroy enemy U-boats and submarines which regularly stalked troop convoys and approached the east coast of the United States.  It was while hunting subs that Don became part of a now famous sinking of a Japanese submarine. 

One day when the U. S. had decoded some German messages, they found out that a Japanese sub was headed for Germany loaded with valuable materials.  Among them were random supplies, including crude rubber, and over twenty million dollars in gold.  Not only was it loaded with valuables, it had the distinction of being the longest submarine ever built, either before then or since.  That Japanese submarine was as long as a football field, one hundred yards, and carried over two hundred men.

When Don's fleet received this information, they set out to intercept the sub and found it exactly where their information indicated it would be.  They forced the huge sub to surface with a blanket of depth charges.  The Japanese came out waving white flags, but when the planes from the carriers in the U.S. fleet flew over the sub to drop life rafts, the Japanese sailors shot at them.  After that the captain gave the order to destroy the sub.  Torpedo bombers were launched and the sub was sunk.

Today there are expeditions in the process of recovering the gold that is still within that submarine laying on the bottom of the ocean at a depth of seventeen thousand feet.  The sub went from a target to a treasure hunter's dream.  National Geographic magazine documented a recent expedition that found the wreckage but was unable to extract the gold from it on their first attempt.

This was by far Don's most memorable experience of the war.  He was stationed at an air base in Florida when the war was over.  He then returned home to reunite with his family after four years in the Navy.

 

The call I made to Bob Goldsworthy was a typical one.  I have a hard time saying something the same way twice, so every call I made to all these people asking them to participate in our project was a matter of some level of terror for me.  I would call someone and get my words all messed up, upside down, backwards, out of order, and end up  feeling like a total idiot, then ask if he or she would help us out.  And they would quietly reply, as did Bob Goldsworthy, "Yes, I'd be glad to.  What would you like me to do?"  This went on over and over again.  So when I say "Thank you," I REALLY mean, "THANK YOU" to one and all. 

 

ROBERT F. GOLDSWORTHY

By Bill Scheele

(with additional notes from Our Last Mission by Bob Goldsworthy)

 

Robert Goldsworthy, Sr. grew up in Rosalia and graduated from Rosalia High School in 1935.  He went to Washington State University and joined the Army Air Corps where he trained to fly the newest bomber in the U.S. arsenal, the B-29.  Before going to fight in World War II he was a flight instructor at Smyrna Air Base in Tennessee and at Maxwell Air Base in Alabama.  Major Goldsworthy was sent to Saipan to fight the Japanese in 1944.

Goldsworthy was a B-29 pilot during World War II.  He flew a plane named Rosalia Rocket as a part of the 73rd Bomber Wing, which was the first wing of B-29s to go to the Pacific Theater in 1944.  They flew out of Saipan to the mainland of Japan for their bombing missions.  Major Goldsworthy went on three missions to Japan before being shot down over Tokyo.

He was the lead plane on a bombing run to the Mitsobisha aircraft engine factory in Tokyo.  There were Tony fighters all over the sky and the Rosalia Rocket got hit in the right wing fuel tank.  Three of the four engines on the plane were out and the controls were inoperative except for one aileron.  Major Goldsworthy could no longer fly the plane and gave the order to bail out.  Out of the eleven crew members on board, three did not make it off the B-29.  One other man lost his life when his parachute caught fire and he fell to his death.

The major was taken captive by the Japanese and taken to the Kempei Tai Headquarters in Tokyo.  Major Goldsworthy was in the Kempei Tai and then the Omori Prisoner of War Camp for a total of nine  months.  At the end of that nine months his weight was down to ninety pounds.  The Japanese made him sign a confession that was in Japanese, confessing he had committed war crimes.  Following that he was sent out for execution twice in the same day, but for some reason even beyond Goldsworthy's comprehension, he was not executed. 

After capture he was placed in solitary confinement for what was to be over four months, during which he suffered under all the cruelty that the diseased minds of his captors could conjure up.  The first day he was in solitary confinement a guard went into his cell to show him the way he was to sit.  He had to sit in the middle of the cell and was made to sit at attention, cross-legged on the floor, eyes straight ahead.  No movement was allowed, not even his eyes.  Guards paced the corridors continually to see that their instructions were obeyed.  At the end of the first fifteen minutes he thought his back would break.  And he had to continue to sit like that sixteen hours a day for four months.

His cell was eight by ten and absolutely bare.  A hole in the floor served as a latrine.  His clothing consisted of a pair of shorts and his summer flying suit.  He received ninety grams of rice a day, sometimes a cup of thin soup, and rarely a little fish cooked head, bones and all.  In those four months he lost eighty-five pounds.  For the first two months of his capture he was interrogated for an hour or two a day.  The rest of the time he had to sit in his cell, at attention, eyes not moving.

He developed bad sores from sitting sixteen hours a day.  When he once tried to sit slightly off center to ease the pressure of one such sore a guard came in the cell and kicked him in the jaw.  As bad as the daily beatings were, the cold and hunger were far worse.  All his waking hours he thought about food, and dreamed about food when he slept. 

He was eventually moved to a more relaxed area of the Omori POW Camp where he was able to move around and even was able to do some work in a garden. 

He was liberated when the war ended.  About two weeks after the Japanese surrendered, Major Goldsworthy was picked up by a hospital ship in Tokyo Bay and sent back to the United States.

The pilot of the Japanese Tony fighter that shot down the Rosalia Rocket survived the war too, but later died in a training mission.  Several years ago Retired Major General Goldsworthy and his wife Jean went to Tokyo to meet the widow of that Tony pilot.  They went to where Omori, the prison, had once stood and ate dinner at the Chinese restaurant that now stands there.

Major Robert Goldsworthy's experience in World War II was very interesting to hear.  He led a bomber group over Tokyo and was shot down.  He was in a Japanese Prisoner of War Camp and survived to tell about it.  In fact, he has written a book about his experiences entitled Our Last Mission.  He is a man who truly helped to define what the greatest generation was all about.

 

Well, we actually did get to interview a man who presently lives in Rosalia.  I had met Don Messinger a year or so ago when I was soliciting door prizes for COA&HS's Volunteer Reception in October.  At that time he showed me the poster he had given his wife for Christmas while he was in the Army.  So, knowing he had been in the service, I went back to him and asked him for an interview.  Like so many people we interviewed, he was interested in helping our young people in the county understand what life was like during the war years.

 

DON MESSINGER

By Cari Heinemann

 

Don Messinger was born on June 15, 1918 in Bonner Springs near Kansas City, Kansas.  When he was twenty years old he married the woman of his dreams.  Her name was Audrey.  Don was trained in the shoe repair trade and things were great until 1943 when, at a mere twenty-five years of age, he was drafted into the Army.

He was inducted at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, then was sent to Texas for Basic Training.  For two months he was trained to go overseas in case he was needed to fight.  After Don's training, he was relocated to Mississippi where he began his involvement with airplane engines.  He was there for a year.   With Don's great interest in airplane engines, he decided to study to become a Flight Engineer.  Later in his military career he finally was able to practice his trade as a shoe repairman, a skill greatly needed in those war years when new shoes were hard to come by. 

The long time he spent away from his wife upset him, so when she came to visit him at school it was no surprise.  He had previously signed a paper stating he would not bring his wife to training school.  But when she showed up all on her own, there certainly wasn't anything he could do, was there?

He did experience some scary situations where he could have easily died.  One was when he was on board a plane as a Flight Engineer trainee.  He suddenly awoke from a little nap and saw the plane was leaking oil.  There was a total supply of one hundred twenty-eight gallons of oil on the plane that day, thirty-two gallons for each engine.  Number three engine had sprung a leak.  The Engineer, called the Crew Chief, told the pilot to feather the prop that was losing oil.

They had a slight language barrier at that point.  The pilot and co-pilot were fearless, battle-tested Chinese who had come to the United States to train for flying heavy bombers, that is B-24s.  They had been flying our worn out small AT-11s and, by installing machine guns, they had turned those training planes into fighters.

The Crew Chief believed the plane was capable of flight on three engines, depending on the load, possibly even two.   So, he ordered the pilot  to "Feather 3."   Excitement overcame logic and the language barrier prevented that order from being followed.  An emergency call was made to the landing field. 

Since they didn't feather the prop, the plane came in under full power, finally coming to a complete stop.  When it did, Engine #3 melted and quit.  The force of that action dipped the point of the right wing about three feet.  Had that happened at any time before the plane stopped, it would have plowed a furrow into the tarmac for a considerable distance, or if they were still airborne they would have spun out and crashed.  Don was really glad his pilot had not understood the order.  The wing dropping suddenly was scary enough for him. 

Don experienced another encounter where he could have died, but instead he switched flights with one of his friends.  Don lived, but his friend did not survive that plane's crash.  After those couple of close incidents with death, Don's wife talked him into quitting flying and instead doing ground inspections.

In 1946 Don left the Army and headed home to Kansas.  He and his wife Audrey raised five kids.  Don now resides in Rosalia, Washington as the owner of an antique and collectible store and shoe repair shop called Bits and Pieces.  One of Don Messinger's favorite pieces in his shop is a simple poster-style picture he gave his wife for Christmas while he was in the Army and could not afford any more than the small amount it cost him.  Audrey framed it and all her life looked upon that gift of love as a place where she could go to hide when the world around her got to be overpowering.  That framed poster is not for sale.

 

That does it for student interviews.  The rest of these in Part Four are folks who couldn't get to any of the interviews, but we felt their stories certainly were worth telling, so they talked, I listened, and here is what we came up with. 

 

I met Yvonne Hoffman at the Oakesdale Senior Meal Site and after visiting with her for some time, invited her to participate in our project so she could tell us about her husband Lenhart's military service, plus talk about life in Oakesdale during the war.  This story introduces some of the hard to think about aspects of war, aspects that were part of the lives of so many who saw combat.

 

LENHART AND YVONNE HOFFMAN

 

"Life changed so drastically," Yvonne Hoffman declared about the affect World War II had on her and those around her. 

She was just ten years old when Hitler marched into Poland.  The man she was later to marry, Lenhart Hoffman, and another boy from the Ritzville area were the very first two men drafted in that area when the draft law went into effect six months before Pearl Harbor was attacked and war declared.  Yvonne and Lenhart's lives met a year after he got out of the service and they were married December 5, 1946.  But the war years took their toll on both of them.

According to an account Lenhart Hoffman wrote for the January 1998 Baptist Bugler, Oakesdale First Baptist Church's newsletter, he was born in an old hay shed on a farm his dad worked near Ritzville in 1920.  When he was five his dad went to work on the railroad and the family moved to Ralston where he started school and had to begin learning English.  His parents had emigrated from Odessa, Russia when they were just nine and three years old.  The communists had taken their land.

On October 1, 1941, when he was twenty-one, Lenhart was inducted into the Army.  After the war he went to Oakesdale where his family had opened a restaurant.  It was there that he met Yvonne.

Yvonne Harnoes was born in Rosalia in 1930, a descendant of French Canadians on her dad's side.  Her mom came from Tennessee.  Her memories of World War II survival are closely related to the house where she now lives in Oakesdale, Uncle Jasper Webb's house.  Her father died when she was young and she and her mother and siblings lived in Spokane with their grandmother.  The family spent summers with Uncle Jasper, a mail carrier for forty years, and his wife Buna.

Yvonne fondly remembers the day Uncle Jasper taught her how to stop being afraid of a cow that liked to try to push the little girl up against the barn.  He had Yvonne pick up a heavy piece of wood and smack the cow right between her eyes.  "From then on the cow didn't bother me a bit," Yvonne smiled,  "and when I went out to bring the cows into the barn, she came right along."

Her uncle and aunt raised cows, pigs, and chickens during the war. She recalls people coming to the house, leaving money and picking up milk, butter, and eggs that the Webbs had in abundance, with no ration coupons exchanging hands.  Her extended family was quite large and they did put their coupon books together to get sugar.  Then they would head to Penewawa, long before the river was dammed, and pick fresh produce and fruit.  They all worked together to can it and then stored it in the Webb's storage shed.  Uncle Jasper would fill his truck from time to time with eggs, butter, jars of cottage cheese, meat out of the freezer, and canned fruits and vegetables and take them to Yvonne's mom and grandma in Spokane.  "Everybody helped everybody," Yvonne explained.

One of Yvonne Hoffman's most vivid memories of World War II was hearing Hitler's voice on the radio, which her grandmother had on all the time.  Grandma also read the whole newspaper to the family, insisting that the whole household listen and of course the war was the main focus of the news.  As a young girl Yvonne was drawn by the charisma and fanaticism of Hitler, at the same time feeling deeply unsettled by his manner of speech.  She also remembers seeing sandwich boards on the streets of Spokane, one in particular showing a Japanese soldier holding a rifle pointed at the viewer, its bayonet dripping with blood.

Lenhart Hoffman saw that image of the war in person.  As a Tech V Sergeant his lot was drawn to go to the Pacific.  He landed first in Hawaii where he met a Hawaiian minister and his family who took him in and showed him such kindness he never forgot them.  He told later how he borrowed the family truck, backed it up briskly against an avocado tree, and a full load of avocados dropped into the truck bed.  He also saw a volcano erupt on the island of Hawaii.

But then he was assigned to a Cargo Division and charged with going onto islands, such as Iwo Jima, after the Marines took them to clean up the carnage and bring back bodies of fallen Americans.  He told Yvonne about going into caves where he saw dead bodies of men who had been tortured and mutilated by the Japanese.  He saw parts of bodies hanging up, having had their arms or legs cut off.  The first body he tried to pick up fell apart. 

"I started to run," he told Yvonne many years later.  "I ran and ran and ran."  But he returned to duty because he was honor-bound to stand up and sacrifice for others, a trait he carried with him all his life.

He also learned that when he was on a ship and it came time to land he either jumped in or was pushed, and he was not a swimmer.  In spite of that he came home unscathed, while two-thirds of his Division did not come back at all.

After his time in the war Lenhart returned to take up a study in mechanics under the G.I. Bill of Rights which also provided him with tools and ninety dollars a month to get him started.  He and Yvonne had three children, adopted two, and helped raise sixty-two foster children.  When the children all left home he and Yvonne decided it was time to earn GEDs (General Equivalence Diplomas) at the ages of fifty-seven and forty-seven.  They struggled and laughed their way through algebra and geometry, read, reviewed, got tested, and were presented certificates of completion at a Baptist Church service in front of all their life long friends.  Yvonne continues to take courses from the University of Idaho.

Lenhart passed away in 1999, after multiple health complications, just a little over a year after he wrote his story for the Baptist Bugler.  His closing comment in that article well expressed his life.  "God was and is my path from the time of my birth until this day.  Praise God!"

 

I told you in the last Part that I wouldn't be picking favorite stories, but this next one has one of my favorite lines in it.  You'll see it about half way through the story:  "Nothing got by us!"  It was said with a big smile and a wink, but it told me reams about how everyone was committed to winning the war in whatever place they found themselves. Maxine helped me write this, correcting my spelling and grammar just like she did for so many kids through her years of teaching in Rosalia.

 

ROY AND MAXINE RAMEY

 

The medical people at Sacred Heart Hospital in Spokane didn't expect Roy Ramey to survive.  His mother had been stricken by the deadly flu that devastated populations all over the earth during World War I.  She was hospitalized for weeks before Roy was born in 1919.  Maxine, born about the same time as Roy, entered life into a similar situation in the town of Nez Perce.  The town there had turned an old theater into a hospital to treat the many, many people affected by the influenza epidemic. 

One of Maxine's aunts, a nurse, came out from the east to care for those who had fallen to the flu, young men being among the most vulnerable to its attack.  Maxine remembers hearing about how the healthy ones left in town would carry flu victims out of the make-shift hospital and bury them at night to try to keep panic from running through the town.  She also recalls hearing that the town of Craigmont, just fourteen miles away, was hardly hit by the deadly virus at all.

Maxine and Roy, hearty survivors from early on, met at the University of Idaho, where they both graduated with teaching degrees in 1940 at what turned out to be the end of the Great Depression.  They faced one of the worst job markets ever.  Maxine got a job at the high school in Lapwai, Idaho teaching English to all of the one hundred and fifty students and also teaching Spanish and Public Speaking as well as coaching the plays at the high school.  She started in the fall of 1940 teaching all those classes for the handsome sum of $1,080 per year. 

Roy, unable to locate a teaching job, went to work for the Northern Pacific Railroad as an agent-telegrapher, a skill he had learned from his father.  This was before people worked a forty hour week with vacation, sick pay, and other benefits.  He started out on the Extra Board as there were no regularly assigned jobs available in the midst of the Depression.  Extra Board meant he substituted for people who could not work that particular day.  Since money was so scarce, people were very reluctant to forego a day's work except for illness or a death in the family.  Roy usually got jobs for only one or two days at a time.  He earned sixty-five cents per hour only for the hours he actually worked, although he traveled over an area stretching from Toppenish, Washington to Paradise, Montana.  He received no allowance for room or board, or any expenses, although he did get free travel on the trains.

On one assignment he left his home in Kendrick, Idaho at four p.m. on a Monday, rode the train to Toppenish via Spokane, worked his eight hour assigned job, and then was bumped by a person with more seniority.  He slept that day in a city park at Toppenish then rode a train home, arriving a two a.m. on Wednesday.  For that eight hours work, plus all the time he spent traveling, he earned five dollars.  Clearly, things were really tough working on the Extra Board.  He was gone so much there was no thought of marriage until he could get a regularly assigned job. 

Finally that happened in the fall of 1941.  Roy and Maxine were married in early November that year, just a few weeks before Pearl Harbor.  When they married, Maxine lost her teaching job, since the rule that had prevailed during the Depression was still in effect.  That rule said a family could not hold two jobs, since so many men with families were unemployed.  The young couple's first home was in an outfit car at Odair, Washington. 

Odair was a large railroad siding about a mile out of Coulee City, Washington.  It was there that all carloads of freight going into the construction site at Grand Coulee Dam were interchanged from the Northern Pacific to the Government Railroad.

The war effort was just beginning to pick up after Pearl Harbor.  There were many fears about what Japan and Germany might do, so the Air Raid Program was started all over the United States.  Air Raid Wardens volunteered to watch the skies for airplanes.  They were given a number to call should they spot any suspicious aircraft.  They were to report a description of the plane and state the direction it was seen to be flying.  Due to the expectation that Japan would attack the West Coast, towns all over Washington had Air Raid Wardens to watch the skies and also keep an eye on homes to make certain they had their blackout shades pulled at night to prevent artificial light from shining out, light which might provide a target for enemy planes.

Since Grand Coulee Dam was considered a high risk for enemy attack, the siding of Odair represented more importance than its population might indicate.  At the time Roy and Maxine lived there, there were only four people in the community, a total of four, Roy and Maxine and two other people.  Roy Ramey stepped up and volunteered to serve as Air Raid Warden in Odair.

"We kept good watch on the sky," smiled Roy.  "Nothing got by us!" 

"There were usually one or two planes a day," added Maxine, who, as in all their sixty years of life together, was right there with Roy, watching the skies of Central Washington.

Maxine and Roy both recall the days of rationing that characterized World War II days on the home front.  They explained how they got a gas card to fill the tank of their Chevy Coupe.  When the card was used up, they could buy no more gas.  Nationwide speeds were reduced to forty-five miles per hour, even thirty-five miles per hour in some places, to save gas and tires.  Nylon hose were hard to find, a problem for women who had to dress up for work.  But, you could get a tooth pulled for four dollars.

"The whole nation came together with war bond sales, volunteer programs on the home front, and a concerted effort to stand behind our people in the military," Maxine recalls.

As the war progressed, Roy was transfered to Pullman where telegraph operators worked around the clock keeping all the railroads running, moving goods and troops from all over the country.  Cadets for the Air Force came in on trains for Pre-flight Training on what is now the WSU campus, eight to ten rail carloads arriving periodically.

Roy had been rejected by the military because he only has hearing in one ear as a result of a mastoid operation when he was an infant.  However, his job was considered vital to the war effort, so he was frozen on the job for the duration of the war, as were all railroad employees.  His work assignment during those years was nine hours a day, Monday through Saturday and eight hours on Sunday, all on straight time.  He worked that schedule for nearly six years without a day off.

After the war Roy and Maxine Ramey moved to Rosalia where they raised their two girls.  Roy continued to work as an agent-telegrapher until he retired and Maxine taught school for many years.  Roy still enjoys getting out his battery driven telegraphy machine to demonstrate the sound of Morse Code.  He and a few other retired telegraphers in the area like doing demonstrations for school kids.

"There are no young ones learning the trade," Roy says, a little sadly.  "It is too hard to learn and has no practical value in modern times.  But in the old days it was considered an art.  A good telegrapher could recognize another telegrapher almost immediately.  Each one had a style as distinctive as a voice."  Roy went on to speak fondly of the role railroads, train depots, and the telegraph had in communications and transportation during the war and the social place the rail system had in small towns, how it brought people together.  Dots and dashes bring back good memories to the Air Raid Warden of Odair and his college sweetheart, Maxine.

 

I interviewed Bill Norris several years ago.  I was editing a novel about World War II pilots and was interested in hearing a first-hand report, and thought I might submit his story for local publication.  It didn't get a bite then, but I dug it out, called him and got his permission to use the story in this book, as we did with all the stories you see published here.  He too gave his permission for the telling.

 

JOHN W. "BILL" NORRIS

 

          John W. "Bill" Norris now resides in Dalton Gardens, a quiet residential suburb of Coeur d'Alene.  As a boy, Bill lived in the section house in Thornton where his dad served as a section boss for the railroad.  He graduated from Rosalia High School in June 1943.  His dad moved the family to Bonners Ferry in November of that same year.  It was there Bill was drafted into the Army.  He passed the test admitting him into the Army Air Corps and reported to Buckley Field in Denver for Basic Training. 

From Denver he moved on to Radio School in Scottfield, Illinois.  When he found he would become a ground radio operator instead of a flight operator, he signed up for gunnery school and was sent to the Aerial Gunnery School in Harlingen, Texas.  After graduating from that school, he was sent back to the Pacific Northwest to Walla Walla Air Base where he met the crew he was to fly with in the Pacific Theater of Operations during the closing months of World War II.  All ten members of that crew survived the war.

Norris and the crew, upon completion of overseas training, shipped down the coast to Camp Stoneman in California from where they sailed out of San Francisco Bay in late May, 1945.  The convoy zig-zagged southwest, finally docking in Pearl Harbor for four days.  Norris recalls search lights piercing the Hawaiian skies, a constant reminder of the Japanese attack on American soil on December 7, 1941.  Bill then spent twenty-seven days in a naval convoy before landing on Leyte, an island in the Philippines.

Continuing their journey, Bill's crew of ten boarded a C-46 twin engine transport aircraft similar to the earlier Gooney Bird.  They began searching for the 5th Bomber Group, 13th Air Force with which they were to join up.  While it would seem the Army Air Corps and the 13th Air Force would know exactly where the 5th was, that was not the case.  The war was moving so fast over a huge tract of the Southern Pacific Ocean that it proved difficult for headquarters personnel to keep up with troop movement, and impossible to accurately pinpoint island base operations. 

The search took Bill's crew first to Morotai where they found a few Japanese and Australians who had declared some kind of tentative truce with each other.  Still looking for the 5th, they flew to Biak, where they found nothing but an empty air strip.  Then they went on to New Guinea where they found an American air strip, but no bombers.  Flying north they finally caught up with the 5th on Samar.  Samar was one of many island bases on which the Seabees, who came to be known as the "Jungle Air Force," had carved air strips out of heavy tropical vegetation.  Having finally joined the war late in July 1945, Bill's crew also joined the battle, immediately hitting Formosa, Negros, and the China Coast in their B-24. 

The B-24 design showed major improvements over the B-17 used out of England at the beginning of World War II.  The B-24 could fly farther and carry a bigger load, giving Bill and his fellow crewmen the longer range needed to cover the miles and miles of ocean between their jungle island base and their targets.  The earlier B-17 was not equipped with a tail turret, or Plexiglas hemisphere for gun and gunner, as was the later B-24 in which Bill worked.  Although Bill was, and is yet, tall and lanky, he found his place in World War II in the tail gunner position on that B-24.

Bill's pilot flew their plane and crew on missions as long as fourteen hours over enemy waters with no fighter escorts.  When asked if he remembers what kind of rations they were issued for those grueling flights, Norris replied quickly, with a wry grin, "Always the same: a can of Spam, a loaf of bread, and a can of V-8 juice."

When they finally hooked up with the 5th Bomber unit, they took part in the recapture of Borneo, which had previously served the Japanese war machine as a gas and oil reserve.  The 5th had recently taken Rabaul, establishing it as an intelligence and operations site from which American's war effort directed its attention northward after the fleeing Japanese military machine.

Norris spoke of a misconception he has heard frequently since serving in the war.  "A lot of people thought of the Japanese as a small nation going up against the huge United States.  That just was not true.  Right after the turn of the 20th century the Japanese had published the Tanaka Memorial, an agreement of conquest and domination of all the Far East, and ultimately the whole world.  They had already taken all of the cities along China's extended sea coast, and all the South Sea islands clear to Hawaii.  They had control over China and all its resources, a rich nation much larger than the United States.  They had taken Manchuria in 1931 as well as Korea and had never lost a battle until after Pearl Harbor," Bill explained, showing maps and documents he has collected through the years to support his statements. 

"So Japan was not a little island empire trying to defend itself against an imperialistic United States that was seeking to dominate the world.  Japan itself was the aggressor bound by their own Tanaka Memorial to conquer and rule.  It fell to America to stop the tide."

When the A-bombs fell on Japan, that tide was stopped and the war ended.  Norris and his crew were split up, eight of them flying home almost immediately.  Bill was sent to Leyte in the Philippines as an Automotive Supply Clerk until he was finally sent home. 

Bill spent a year at Eastern Washington State College on the G.I. Bill of Rights.  After that year he went to flight training school and earned his commercial pilot's license.  He and Beverly Peterson were married in Bonners Ferry, Idaho in 1950.  They had three girls and one boy.  They lived in Rosalia, Lind, and Dayton while he crop-dusted from 1952 to 1960.  He then worked as an Operating Engineer from 1960 until he retired in 1987 to the quiet of Dalton Gardens.

 

So, that was the end of our student interview program.  We worked our way through getting the stories written, turned in, graded, and copies sent to me along with signatures giving us permission to publish the student's work.  We then sent all the stories to the people interviewed, giving them full permission to edit, rewrite, add to, delete, whatever it took to get their stories the way they wanted them, which is the way they appear in this book.  I also turned my attention to interviewing people from Colfax and St. John, and a few other places as they came up.  Parts Five and Six will present those stories.