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From the Fog City Divas Blog Archives "Candice Ponders THE WAR"
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I have been watching The War, the Ken Burns documentary series about World War II on PBS, and have been riveted. The final episode is tonight, and I will be there. I am so glad Ken Burns made this film. First, because I think he is a national treasure; all his films have been extraordinary. And second, because I think a lot of people in the generations younger than me don't understand this war. I read recently about a poll in which high school seniors were asked who we fought in WWII, and the majority of them thought it was Russia. So this film will serve as an educational document for future generations. And finally, we are fast losing the generation who lived through WWII, and we need to collect their stories before it's too late.
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As I watch this film, I have been by turns moved, horrified, outraged, and uplifted. And I have changed my perspective on WWII, which I always heard described as a "good war." This films makes it very clear that there was nothing good about it. Yes, we fought against some incredibly evil forces, but we did some pretty awful things,too. There was honor and cruelty, generosity and hate on both sides. What truly moves me is to imagine what it must have been like for those soldiers who survived unbelievable hardship and horror to return home to a normal life. Clearly, it left them changed forever. Even all the old men now in their 80s who relate their experiences in the film still have such vivid memories. My father is like that. He may not be able to remember what he ate for dinner last night, but he remembers every minute of his war experience 63 years ago. Those memories burn deep, like scars that never fade.
Most of us have parents or grandparents who lived through the WWII years, and every one of them has a story to tell. Brenda Novak's father was a tank commander at the Battle of the Buldge. He was wounded and received a purple heart. Karin Tabke's grandfather-in-law fought in the Pacific. He was placed at the front lines because his color blindness allowed him to pick out snipers' fatiques from the surrounding foliage. Kate Moore's father was supposed to go to Anzio, but he had a master mariner's license to pilot small boats, so the Army Air Force took him for air-sea rescue duty in the Pacific. He went all over those islands fishing pilots, both Japanese and American, out of the water. He got malaria and hepatitus, and saw terrible deaths. He was in the Phillipines when McArthur returned, and came home on a slow boat called the Sacajewea, which almost went down in the Pacific not far from San Francisco.
If you have relatives who lived through WWII, I encourage you to ask for their stories. They all have one to tell, whether they were at home or on the front lines. And if you have asked, please write them down or record them for future generations. One final comment: I think it is time we started to see romances set in WWII. Think of how much life young lovers had to compress into such a short time, before the soldier went overseas, perhaps never to come back. Their love stories are filled with passion and urgency and so much heartache. Did anyone read Jill Barnett's Sentimental Journey? I'd love to read more books like that. I'll bet I'm not the only one you ready for WWII romances.
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candicehern.com |
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One of the things I also like about The War is that it follows the people back home as well as the soldiers on the various fronts. What strikes me most powerfully is how EVERYONE in this country was affected by the war. It was not like today's war in Iraq where we watch it on TV, and we debate its justness, and we see the faces of those who've been killed and feel sadness and/or outrage. Unless you have a loved one over there, I think we all feel somewhat removed from what's happening, and we go about our daily lives more or less unaffected. But during WWII, every American felt the effects of war on a personal basis. Over 16 million Americans fought in WWII, and over 450,000 soldiers were killed. Everyone at home, rich or poor, faced rationing of commodities like food, clothing, shoes, gasoline. (My mother tells of using her sister's shoe ration card to buy a pair of 5" heels for her wedding.) The face of the American workforce changed as women went to work in droves to help manufacture anything and everything that could aid the war effort. And millions of Americans pitched in with all sorts of conservation projects and war bond sales. What amazes me is the unity of purpose throughout the country. It makes me wonder if we will ever see anything like it again, especially that level of national sacrifice. 
And my father has a story as well. (That's him on the left.) He flew in B-24s over Europe. His plane was shot down over the Netherlands, and he bailed out into an area thick with German soldiers. He evaded capture by hiding in a hedgerow for three days, with Germans patroling right by him every couple of hours. When he finally came out of the thicket, he met up with a priest who greeted him in English, saying, "Are you the American flyer the Germans are looking for?" The priest connected him with the Dutch Underground, who placed him with a family who were also hiding a Jewish couple. He remained in hiding in the attic of that house, directly across the street from Nazi Headquarters, until the Allies liberated the town. My mother, who had married my father only two days before he was shipped overseas, still has the MIA telegram she received when his plane was lost.
