So, this morning, I was walking through the grocery store just looking things over while my wife was picking up a few things somewhere else in the store when I noticed this gentleman with a WWII Navy Veteran cap on his head.
Well, I just had to approach him and I said, “Excuse me, sir, but I noticed your cap and I was wondering what ship you were on.” He told me that he was assigned to the Cleveland. I had never heard of that ship, so I had to ask him several more questions, not only about the ship, but also his job. He told me that he was a Machinists Mate. That brought about more questions. (He served in the South Pacific.)
Later, we got to talking about the war. We probably spoke to one another for a good 20-30 minutes. My wife found me and joined us. My wife is a retired professor, but not history, so I could tell she was becoming bored. I told him that I had one more question for him, which was,“How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?” He said 95. (He looked about being maybe 65.) He joined in 1942-1946. I had to tell him that he looked remarkably well. He said he felt good, except for his right arm, which has been a problem since the war and his hearing suffers from the guns being fired onboard his ship and he still drives.
Before we parted, I told him how much of a pleasure it was speaking with him. I also made the comment “Most of you guys are gone and that’s a shame. When one of you veterans die, a lot of history goes with you.” I really wanted to talk more with him and he was very willing to talk to me.
Later, I thought, darn, I should have asked him to our home for dinner one evening or maybe to have lunch.
Well, I just had to approach him and I said, “Excuse me, sir, but I noticed your cap and I was wondering what ship you were on.” He told me that he was assigned to the Cleveland. I had never heard of that ship, so I had to ask him several more questions, not only about the ship, but also his job. He told me that he was a Machinists Mate. That brought about more questions. (He served in the South Pacific.)
Later, we got to talking about the war. We probably spoke to one another for a good 20-30 minutes. My wife found me and joined us. My wife is a retired professor, but not history, so I could tell she was becoming bored. I told him that I had one more question for him, which was,“How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?” He said 95. (He looked about being maybe 65.) He joined in 1942-1946. I had to tell him that he looked remarkably well. He said he felt good, except for his right arm, which has been a problem since the war and his hearing suffers from the guns being fired onboard his ship and he still drives.
Before we parted, I told him how much of a pleasure it was speaking with him. I also made the comment “Most of you guys are gone and that’s a shame. When one of you veterans die, a lot of history goes with you.” I really wanted to talk more with him and he was very willing to talk to me.
Later, I thought, darn, I should have asked him to our home for dinner one evening or maybe to have lunch.