My Dad was in the Navy, stationed in England during WWII. He didn't talk about it much, but after he died I found an interview a student had done with him. Turns out he also typed very important papers, like those that gathered the men, boats, guns, and other equipment needed for the D-Day invasion. He was present when the ships left England to cross the Channel to France. I'm so sorry I wasn't aware of this while he was alive. He wasn't a war "hero," but was one of the many doing their jobs, without whom D-Day wouldn't have happened.
Steve says that when his dad was in England before the invasion his communications had to do with setting everything up for D-Day. Maybe he and your dad communicated with each other! Wouldn't that be something?
Wow, what an interesting family history! I wonder if he and Steve's dad knew each other? Of course, we can never know. Steve's dad was in England, too. Probably they didn't know each other because they were in different arms of the military. But, still. I'm so glad you found that interview and could learn more about your dad's efforts!
So, during WWII my dad was a baker in the Navy. A seasick baker on a warship in the Pacific in the Navy. I wouldn’t have known a thing about his service if my mom hadn’t been hospitalized when I was in junior high. She’d had other hospitalizations, but for this one, I was old enough to know and recall what was going on.
Dad knew how to cook quite well from his Navy experience. However, this crew was just my two brothers and me, and somehow he wasn’t able to minimize recipes enough from the huge amounts he’d needed at sea. I can recall his scrambled eggs, with cuts of ham and fresh tomato. Quite tasty. And after we’d eaten our fill, he’d ask us, “Come on, don’t you want more eggs?” You see, there were heaping scoops of them waiting in the pan. In future situations we grew to call them ‘Eatmore Eggs.’
While helping with clean up, I asked about how many men were on the ship - to compare our meager troops with his sailors. I can’t recall his answer, but he added: “Yep, I spent lots of time in that galley, and was seasick everyday we were out to sea.”
I know I empathized. I’ve always thought being sick to my tummy was the worst discomfort.
Then he continued, “So a month of that was rough when you had to keep cooking and baking. Yet the surprising thing was I’d get off the boat, more than eager to calm my system, and then…I’d get on solid land, and get… land sick. Nasty stuff.” And his rosy face paled in the memory.
Now that seemed unthinkable to me till years later, after a remarkable whale watch out of Newburyport, Massachusetts. David and I were on a sightseeing cruise where we’d had a lengthy close encounter with two humpbacks, lounging and playing for at least a half an hour right by our boat. Then, we headed to shore in full rolling seas. A pregnant woman and I stood at the stern of the boat obviously fighting galloping nausea. When we finally came to walk on shore, instead of desperate relief, I succumbed to…land sickness, which lasted much longer than the friendly whales watching us, watching them.
I felt the real sacrifice of my dad’s humble wartime service with deepened admiration and gratitude. Still do.
Wow, bad enough to be seasick, without having the added complication of also having to prepare food for people! And, yes, that was a real sacrifice. I have never been seasick or land-sick, but I have watched others go through that. Not fun at all.
My Dad was in the Navy, stationed in England during WWII. He didn't talk about it much, but after he died I found an interview a student had done with him. Turns out he also typed very important papers, like those that gathered the men, boats, guns, and other equipment needed for the D-Day invasion. He was present when the ships left England to cross the Channel to France. I'm so sorry I wasn't aware of this while he was alive. He wasn't a war "hero," but was one of the many doing their jobs, without whom D-Day wouldn't have happened.
Steve says that when his dad was in England before the invasion his communications had to do with setting everything up for D-Day. Maybe he and your dad communicated with each other! Wouldn't that be something?
Wow, what an interesting family history! I wonder if he and Steve's dad knew each other? Of course, we can never know. Steve's dad was in England, too. Probably they didn't know each other because they were in different arms of the military. But, still. I'm so glad you found that interview and could learn more about your dad's efforts!
So, during WWII my dad was a baker in the Navy. A seasick baker on a warship in the Pacific in the Navy. I wouldn’t have known a thing about his service if my mom hadn’t been hospitalized when I was in junior high. She’d had other hospitalizations, but for this one, I was old enough to know and recall what was going on.
Dad knew how to cook quite well from his Navy experience. However, this crew was just my two brothers and me, and somehow he wasn’t able to minimize recipes enough from the huge amounts he’d needed at sea. I can recall his scrambled eggs, with cuts of ham and fresh tomato. Quite tasty. And after we’d eaten our fill, he’d ask us, “Come on, don’t you want more eggs?” You see, there were heaping scoops of them waiting in the pan. In future situations we grew to call them ‘Eatmore Eggs.’
While helping with clean up, I asked about how many men were on the ship - to compare our meager troops with his sailors. I can’t recall his answer, but he added: “Yep, I spent lots of time in that galley, and was seasick everyday we were out to sea.”
I know I empathized. I’ve always thought being sick to my tummy was the worst discomfort.
Then he continued, “So a month of that was rough when you had to keep cooking and baking. Yet the surprising thing was I’d get off the boat, more than eager to calm my system, and then…I’d get on solid land, and get… land sick. Nasty stuff.” And his rosy face paled in the memory.
Now that seemed unthinkable to me till years later, after a remarkable whale watch out of Newburyport, Massachusetts. David and I were on a sightseeing cruise where we’d had a lengthy close encounter with two humpbacks, lounging and playing for at least a half an hour right by our boat. Then, we headed to shore in full rolling seas. A pregnant woman and I stood at the stern of the boat obviously fighting galloping nausea. When we finally came to walk on shore, instead of desperate relief, I succumbed to…land sickness, which lasted much longer than the friendly whales watching us, watching them.
I felt the real sacrifice of my dad’s humble wartime service with deepened admiration and gratitude. Still do.
Wow, bad enough to be seasick, without having the added complication of also having to prepare food for people! And, yes, that was a real sacrifice. I have never been seasick or land-sick, but I have watched others go through that. Not fun at all.
LOVE your story about your dad.