D-Day Memory

Irvin in Milan WWII

Family Photo

I wanted to write something about D-Day and our service men and women. I spent this anniversary date afternoon visiting with Thelma and she asked me what the D stood for in D-Day. Neither of us could remember. But, she told me that was the day of the allied landing in Normandy.

We went on and talked some more. I asked her if she remembered how she first heard of D-Day. Was it on the radio, in newspapers, or did they have to wait on news reels and magazines?

I was pretty small, then, and don't remember exactly how or what we first heard. I imagine it was on the radio, followed by newspapers, and later I do recall seeing the newsreels at the Eloia theatre. And, of course, still later, there was always news in "Life" magazine.

A couple of years ago, I had asked Thelma what she was doing on D-Day. She said that she was on a train, headed for Houston, then to Baytown, with Helen, to visit Helen's family. They were still students at Baylor in Waco.

I am still fond of the sliced chicken sandwiches that we used to get on the train, and at bus stations. Thelma usually got a club sandwich. But, she said that they ordered sliced chicken sandwiches on this day in June. She still laughs about the sandwiches. She said that they had so little meat on them, that, the only way they could tell that these were chicken sandwiches was that they found a feather in one of the sandwiches!

Helen's mother was an art major and had decorated her home, and Helen's room , beautifully. But Thelma didn't like sleeping in the canopy bed in Helen's room. She said she felt like she was in a coffin.

They had a wonderful time, visiting with Helen's family. Her brother took them sailing. Thelma didn't know that the sail might come around, so she just missed being knocked into the water as the sail came near her, by ducking.

As they had a pleasant trip, they didn't know about the big battle that was going on overseas, D-Day. The thought of their loved ones who were far from home, at war, like her brother, Irvin, were always with them, though.

I reminded Thelma of the story she had told me of her D-Day, last weekend, but she didn't remember much of it, except about the chicken sandwich and the feather. As she grew sleepy, she couldn't remember what she had told me about D-Day a few minutes before.

Now I'm still wondering how we found out about times like D-Day.

Uncle Tom had a nice radio that had short wave on it. We would huddle close to the radio to listen to the garbled sounds and squawking, fading in and out, to try to hear of news from overseas. I don't think we ever heard anything important, though, and would eventually return to the regular programs that we listened to. And everyone just hoped and prayed for good news.

Irvin wasn't there for the D-Day landings. He was with the 88th Infantry Division, the Blue Devils. They went to North Africa, first, and he finished his days in the service in Italy.

The picture above is one of his photos, of when he was on leave in Milan. (I have to assume that is where the picture was taken as that is what is written on the picture.) I don't have any idea who the other people are behind him. I thought that the soldiers behind him might be someone that he knew because they are in other pictures during that leave.

Margaret told me that she was there for D-Day. She was an Army nurse, and had quite a lot of experiences during WWII.

Of course, General Earl Rudder, of Rudder's Rangers fame, became president of Texas A&M University. Statues of him, and things named for him, are abundant here. His widow, Margaret, belonged to my church, and she was quite well known until her death. Both are still fondly remembered in this area. The new high school is named for him.

I spent some time on the weekend, using the remote control on the tv, trying to find something to watch about D-Day and our history during WWII. I only heard one comment by Geraldo Rivera on the news. And I'm not sure that he was talking about D-Day, but, instead was interviewing a reporter who had been injured in Iraq. He thanked her, and all who have served, for their service.

There were no movies shown on tv, not even on the History Channel. I always expect to see things like "D-Day, the Sixth of June" and "The Longest Day". The closest thing I found was "Darling Lili" with Julie Andrews and Rock Hudson, and that one was about WWI. Later, there was "On The Beach", not about the WWII era, either.

And there was a news item about a new museum near those beaches at Normandy, dedicated to America and 9/11. I guess there are already museums and such remembrances about the battles of WWII in that area. I do know that there are tours and cemeteries.

I started wondering if the younger folks who pick out the programs are just forgetting about times that were so important to our history. And they are just showing anything, rather than what would be appropriate.

Instead of WWII programs, the History Channel had something about men cutting down trees or something to do with axes, that went on and on and on. I thought it was most unpatriotic.

Some of us were thinking about that day, D-Day. And some were remembering what they were doing that day in history, those who served, and those who didn't make it home.

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The Texas Scottish Festival is over and I've heard, from those who were not too tired to do e-mail, that it was a wonderful weekend. There will be more about it as people rest up. I've left a link to it on my sidebar so that you can check it out.

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Now, we get ready for the 19th World Wide Sketch Crawl.

You can click on the Sketch Crawl logo at the top of my page, and go to that website.

I hope that you will make your plans to go out (or even stay inside) and draw something that day.

Let me know if you need more information about participating.

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I hope that you will pass this on to others to read. I encourage you to join my group if you haven't already. Just type in your e-mail address in the subscription box, or click on the form that will take you to my group, Art-By-Cecelia.

Thank your for your comments, and I'm so glad that you stopped by for a visit. If you see something that you are interested in, please let me know.

Blue Monday

Blue Monday
Wash Day
8.5" x 11"
pencil

Don't forget to watch "On The Record" tonight (Monday) on Fox news, 9p.m. central time, 10 p.m. eastern time. Greta Van Susteran is having a special on breast cancer and her trip with First Lady Laura Bush to the Middle East where Mrs. Bush was trying to create more awareness about breast cancer.
http://www.gretawire.com/
Read Greta's blog for more information and wonderful pictures and videos she took on the trip. I feel like I was with them!

Scroll down to my last slide show to see the latest watercolor I added about the space station and space shuttle flyover.

I thought that Blue Monday was called that because of the blueing that was used in the wash water with white things to make them look whiter. I didn't know that it might have been because of the sad idea of having to start another long week at work, or the daily grind of housework, or even of a rainy Monday that might make some people feel blue or depressed.
Monday was wash day, all over town, not just at our house. Tuesday, was ironing day; Wednesday was heavy cleaning such as mopping and waxing floors, taking blinds down and washing them in the bathtub, with the afternoon reserved for Bible study groups or some sort of get-together. At night, the Baptists had church.
Thursday was a day for lighter cleaning, sewing, patching, darning and, in the afternoon, the ladies would gather for their sewing circle or, during the War, for the Red Cross Sewing Circle. There they might knit socks or sweaters for service men, or roll bandages.
I can remember meeting on the sidewalk beside the bank and in front of Mack Remberdts Furniture Store with the ladies. I wandered around, while my mother and the ladies rolled bandages, sitting on the wide step in front of the building. When weather was bad, we would either meet inside, courtesy of Jessie Marie, or at Mrs. Wyser's house. I guess we had to stay out of the way of potential customers, or couldn't go in when the owner of the store was around. I'm not sure about that, since I was a kid and more interested in the patterns of the bricks and why they were not level in some places, and the metal in the steps and the decorative panels in front of the building.
Friday was yard work and finishing up the school week with the big football game on Wilkerson Field that night. There was always a big crowd for that, while a lot of the ladies stayed at home and listened to the radio. You could just open the windows and hear the game being announced over a large portion of the town. This was also the day of the big auction at the Auction Barn, with a lot of people going to the cafe there for lunch.
Saturday was the big downtown business day. Maybe some more yard work. Movies and the drugstore for the kids. A trip to the Katy Hamman Stricker Library in the morning, along with radio programs beginning with "Buster Brown", then "Jack Armstrong", "Sky King" and others, until time to walk or ride the bike to the library. Choir practice, and, for my mother, organ practice, was on Saturday afternoon. This was also the day to wash and dry hair. Saturday night was radio while baths were taken and Sunday dinner was started. Daddy always had to work late, as the stores were open until people quit buying, getting ready for church, and the next week.
Sunday morning was Sunday School and Church. For our family, it was Sneed Memorial Methodist Church. The family gathered at one home for Sunday dinner, depending on who wanted to be the host that week. Sometimes, especially if there was illness in the family among the women who had to do all the work, we would go to the White Hotel or the Calvert Hotel for a big family style Sunday dinner in the large dining rooms.
After dinner, and a nap, the men went out to check cattle in their pastures, then we all went for a ride. Then there was supper, often of Red Roast and Red Gravy sandwiches on toast, and we could eat a stack of those! Sure were good. We would eat until we were about to pop, and still wanted more! Then there were Sunday night radio programs. I liked to go over to Edie's house and listen to her big floor model radio in the living room. We could sprawl on the floor and get lost in the happenings on the programs.
Then it was back to Monday, and washing all those clothes we had worn all week!
In my drawing above, I have shown the clothesline in our back yard, which began at the corner of the garage, and stretched across part of the yard to where my dad built a tin roofed shed. Behind the clothesline, you can see the fence which he used to enclose the horse pen, for our horse, Flicka. The trees behind the horse pen separated our yard from the next yard, where you can see a bit of the roof sticking up of the wooden house behind us. The shaded area shows Mud Creek Mountains. Not really mountains, but hills that ran along Mud Creek south of town, separating us from the next town 7 miles away. We could see train lights coming over that hill into town, and, during War years, we could see the search lights during air raids. They were coming from the next town which we thought might be a target due to oil storage tanks and rail lines, as well as the POW camp.
My mother was dressed in her dress, with fairly nice shoes on, while she hung out clothes. Bertie, our helper, wore boots, that hung open at the top, cotton stockings, loose skirt and blouse, a jacket with sleeves, and a sunbonnet. Sometimes, she wore a scarf wrapped around her head. And, of course, she had her dip of snuff in her lip. In the picture, she is mashing the clothes with a broom handle. My sister and I liked to play in the billowing sheets, so I have shown her crouched on the inside of a sheet, with me pushing through the sheet from the outside. She is following Poochie, our dog, who also liked to play wherever we were playing.
Clothes are boiling in an iron wash pot over a fire, fairly far from the house. There are buckets for carrying water from the house to the wash pot. A rub board and a bar of lye soap are on the ground. There is also a box of detergent used in washing the clothes. (One concession to modern times. But, they still thought that clothes were not clean unless you used some lye soap too.)
The heavy pot would have to be emptied and refilled as the water became too dirty, and between the soap and rinse steps.
Prior to this stage of wash day, Bertie and my mother spent time in the kitchen, by the back door, sorting clothes, then washing them in the kitchen sink, with a rub board. Dainty things, like ladies unmentionables, would be first, and those things were hung in the bathroom on the shower rod, where the neighbors' eyes couldn't see them. Those might be done in the bathroom sink as needed, rather than waiting until Monday. Delicate scarves and blouses were next. Heavier, and more soiled things came later. A little blueing was added to the water of white things to make them sparkling white. Starch was boiled on the stove and added to shirts, pinafores, some blouses, tablecloths and napkins, and anything that had to hold its shape and look smooth. Clorox was added to white things that needed bleaching.
The wet wash had to be hung on the clothesline to dry, with wooden clothespins that remained on the line, ready for next week's wash. Rich people might have a canvas bag to keep their clothespins in, and take those into the house after the wash was dry. Our's stayed in place, and the same pieces could be hung there the next week. Sometimes they would break off, which meant doubling up on the pins for the next piece of laundry. It was, for some reason, exciting when a new package of clothes pins would be brought home and placed on the line. The kids wanted to be the ones to put the pins on the line! Simple pleasures. I guess it was tactile and had to do with the feel of the spring and the new wood.
It was a big setback if one of the posts holding the clothesline would break or fall over, and all the clothes fell in the dirt and grass and had to be rewashed. Daddy liked to use wooden posts, or even a plank to prop up the line if we had something heavy like quilts drying. After I was grown, he had someone make some metal posts, which were much sturdier and long lasting. But, I could tell that he didn't really like giving up those wood posts. Mama was happy to get any convenience.
It was heavy work, with a lot of carrying from the house to the back of our yard, and, sometimes it didn't all get done in one day. But, most of the time it did, and things were ready to do all the ironing the next day.
Bertie didn't help us full time. Daddy didn't make that much money, and he was very conservative with his money, anyway. But, on Monday and Tuesday, and, sometimes other days, he would get Bertie to come help out. Some of the homes had regular help, and some, just occasionally.
Bertie was like another one of my mothers, I thought. I always asked her, on wash day especially, when we would play outside, if she would bring one of her children to come play with me. She would just laugh, and I would continue to beg. I don't think she ever did bring one of her children to play while she worked.
Daddy finally bought Mama a front loading washing machine when I was in high school. He put it on the concrete slab outside the back door, where he planned to build another room, a den, onto the house, eventually. Bit by bit. He ran the hose out in the yard to a pear tree, which was also our pet cemetery. During times of drought, he would move the hose around to water some of the trees in the back yard. Mama argued that the hot water was going to kill her trees, but I guess the soap made the trees flourish. That tree had some wonderful pears!
Work was heavy, meals had to be ready on time, children had to be cared for, social and community obligations had to be met. It all had to be done daily, on a schedule, throughout town. The fire whislte blew at noon and at 6 in the evening, so everyone knew to go eat dinner or supper. You could tell the time by the trains that went through town, every 15 minutes.
My great aunt, across the street, had her laundry picked up on her front porch by a laundry and cleaners who came to town each week. She worked hard, and sometimes helped at her husband's store, and her husband wanted her to have that luxury of not having to wash in the back yard. That was fun to play around in the sheets as she prepared them to be wrapped up in one big sheet, and set, like a big bag with ears, on her front porch.
I'm so glad that we have washers and dryers in our homes, now! I don't think I could make it even through one load of clothes like my mother did every week! I have washed clothes in the bathtub and the sink, in a portable washing machine, and lugged things back and forth to the laundromat. I even did the rub board in the sink at my mother's house when my son was small. I thought it was just a step up from a rock in the river!
Hope your laundry is done, and that this is not a Blue Monday for you! My laundry is still going, but, at least, I can do other things while the machine does the hard work!

Greta Van Susteran asked those of us who read her blog and her viewers to spread the word about her special on breast cancer tonight. So, I'm inviting you! Hope you get to watch. If not on tv, maybe you can find something about it online. There was a tv program about breast cancer on Channel 13 out of Houston last week. They had a lot about Baylor Hospital in Houston on that program. That might be online, too.
One question in the blog was whether or not people thought that mamograms should be free. That raised the question about what would happen if something was found and treatment needed. Who would pay for that? And what about other illnesses and diseases? A whole flood of thoughts and questions. Of course, I can't help but wonder about the issues that I struggle with, like treatment for Macular Degeneration, cataracts, knee replacement, medication, visits to doctors, and the healthcare that we all need.
Look at Creative Journey blog, when you get a chance. I like her idea of a weekly challenge, not to mention the creative projects and art work that she is showing. Very interesting. Check it out when you get a chance.
Also, look at Nancy Standlee's blog. She has some very appealing work and ideas, too. You can find a link to her in the sidebar of my blog.
Virginia Vaughan is another busy artist, with some very nice work. Be sure to check out her blog, too. She is painting, "the last", as she winds up her Last Year on the Farm.
Let me know if you see something that appeals to you. Thanks for your comments and your support, and for sharing this with others.

Hanging Out

The Drugstore 8.5" x 11" pencil

This is the drugstore on the corner by the red light in my hometown. One of our places to hang out, especially before or after an afternoon movie at the picture show. All ages went to the drugstore for treats, special purchases, and medicine.
The drugstore was a bit on the dark side, with dark woodwork, and a pressed tin ceiling, a mirror behind the soda fountain that looked like it came from an old western saloon. (It probably did, as there had been quite a few in town, in the olden days. And most grocery stores also had a bar in them, with one of those old fashioned mirrors and shelves for glasses, etc.) But, the big windows on the street and around the side let in enough light to make the place feel cozy and welcoming. Traffic watching was a big thing in town, too.
In this sketch, my good friend, Peggie, is working behind the soda fountain to prepare a special treat. A teenage boy is sipping his soda, served on the always cool marble counter. Peggie's sister, Sue, is behind the cosmetics and jewelry counter showing the latest perfume to a customer. Another customer is looking at beauty products on the lower shelf.
On the left side of the store, by the windows, at the wire with glass topped tables, people are sharing a Coke with two straws as we used to do. (Two or three people could enjoy a small Coke that way, for 5 cents, and it would last for hours!)
On the right side of the store was the magazine rack, which covered up part of the window. All the latest magazines were there, and kids spent a lot of time reading those magazines, especially if they didn't have a nickel to buy a Coke or an ice cream cone, but still needed something to do. Most of the time, the druggist didn't say anything. We would eventually buy something. I guess he knew we were staying out of trouble in his store, and our parents were customers. I couldn't wait for the latest movie magazines to come in, especially if they had Tim Holt or another one of my favorite stars in them. And, this is where I got my beloved comic books. I read and reread my comic books and had quite a collection. When I went away to college, my mother put all my dolls, comic books, scrap books with movie star pictures, and toys in a big toy chest, and moved them out to a shed, where they were all ruined. She thought I was too old for such things at age 16. I guess that part of the reality was that they needed the space for my sister to have a room that we had always shared, now that I was away at college.
In the center of the picture are a trio of youngsters, coming into the drugstore before or after the movie. They are dressed in jeans with the legs rolled up, and one is swinging a drawstring purse.
Passing by on the sidewalk there is an older couple, a tall Texan and his wife. They enjoyed this drugstore and others when they were youngsters, for the town was much larger with many more businesses, in times past. At this time in their lives, treats became rare in the drustore for them, but they were there often for medicine. They didn't hesitate to pay for the treats that the youngsters enjoyed, as they paid for their own purchases.
I was glad to see some of the others who used to hang out at the drugstore at the reunion last weekend.
Kathryn reminded our group of when the POWs from the German Prisoner of War Camp near the next town, went past the drugstore in trucks, on their way to and from the fields where they worked. There were all of these blonde men with blue eyes, some of them really cute, we thought. This was during WWII.
Sadly, the drugstore is now gone-torn down, and there is a vacant spot where we once spent so many happy hours, hoping to catch a beau, dream of a special gift or cosmetics (which our mothers wouldn't let us wear), read a magazine, spend some time with friends, or just enjoy some delicious ice cream, a banana split, a malt or soda, a sundae, a lime ice, or a Coke with a straw for two.

D-Day, The Sixth of June

"Just A Memory" is an exerpt of a longer work, inspired by the D-Day 50th anniversary reunions. The story reflects the frustration and confusion of one soul that didn't make it home after WWII. This is one of my tributes to the men and women who have served our country. Tonight, I sketched a soldier with his "friend", his gun. He has no eyes because he is lost in the country where he died, still trying to find his way home, and answers to what is happening to him. I may add his eyes later, but, I wanted to give him an empty, unseeing look, at this point.

I was only about six years old, living safely in Calvert, Texas, surrounded by family, when D-Day took place. I have very distinct memories of those times. During the D-Day reunions, my high school class was also having our reunion, and we will be getting together again in the next few days.

A special recognition goes out to Margaret, who was an Army nurse in WWII, and was involved in D-Day, among other historic events of the War; her husband, Clarence, who was in the Air Force and had his own adventures ; and my uncle, Irvin, who was in the 88th Infantry Division, the Blue Devils; and Reba, who was in the Army. There are many more who I knew as those glamourous people in uniform, who loomed over me, who went away to do their duty. Some did not come home, some came home with injuries, and all came home changed, but bound to others who went through the same things.

I saw very little on tv this year about D-Day, other than a few old war movies. If they showed "The Longest Day", I missed it. I guess they are waiting on another milestone year to do more reunions and recognition.

Look in my links section, and you will find a link to click on for my friend, and author, Esther Reed. She has written a book on Hispanic WWII vets titled "After The Blessing".

For some reason, we have an interest in WWII and those times. I thought that, perhaps this is because we were small then, and so many things were secret. Now that time has passed, some of those things that were kept in secret, not only from children, but also the adult population, can be told.

I salute you, Veterans!