My  Father was  a Sargent in the 7th Armoured Division of the United States Army.  His position during WWII was in simple terms, a secretary or typist.  It was his job to keep the records of the missions, troops, and yes, even the fallen.  It was his letter that sometimes reached the family of a loved one missing in action or having given the ultimate sacrifice.

He and his United States Army troops spent time on the Western front from August of 1944 until May of 1945.  After the war ended, he returned to America on the Queen Mary ship and made his way by train to Florida to be close to his love, Geneva Long who was awaiting him in Florida. In October a Florida Times Union article had her engagement photograph of her wearing a necklace he had given her.  It was found among her belongings in a trunk we went through as a family.  It has special meaning to those left behind.  

While my Father was scheduled to return to South Carolina after the war, he was able to write his own dismissal papers and landed himself at Camp Blanding, an hour from my Mother.  He and my mother would marry on December 16, 1945 after his discharge ceremony at Camp Blanding.

My Mother got a ride to Camp Blanding the night before the honourable discharge event.  She stayed in a  dorm prepared for visitors. The following day after the discharge papers were signed,  he and my mother hitched a ride on a cattle car to Jacksonville.  My Dad said he’ll never forget that long ride to Jacksonville, riding in a cattle car.

My parents married that year at the Riverside Baptist Church and settled in Jacksonville where they had three children, Kathryn, Patrick and Nan.

See you tomorrow,