A Veterans Day Spotlight on My Grandfather

In the recent past, I've shared some of the family photos I've been scanning and saving. When I hit the Mother Lode, I decided that it deserved a special Veterans Day post. My grandmother saved everything from my grandfather's time in the US Navy during World War II, and since I would imagine there are several things most of you have never seen before, it's time to share. 

Let's begin with the man himself.

This is my grandfather, Earl Brookshier, fresh out of boot camp at the Great Lakes Naval Training Station in 1944.

Photo of my grandmother, Irene Brookshier and my mother, with my grandmother's own caption.

On the home front, my grandmother had to deal with rationing. Here's the cover of a ration stamp booklet.

And here are what the ration stamps looked like.

Grampa had two main jobs: driving the landing craft up to the beachheads and anti-aircraft gunner. Packs of cards like this would help him identify planes in the vicinity of his ship.

Speaking of his ship, here it is, the LST 1030. LST stands for Landing Ship, Tank. They were the workhorses of the fleet. Mom woke me up late one night, whooping and hollering because she'd spotted the 1030 on an episode of "Victory at Sea."

Here's the LST 1030 closer up. Grampa only had three "stories" to tell about his service. One of them was being caught in a typhoon on a flat-bottomed ship. Sea sickness doesn't even begin to describe it! The other two stories? His best buddy was blown to bits on the next gun turret over, and kamakazes sunk the ships on either side of the 1030. This had to be during Okinawa.

As you can see, Grampa and the rest of the crew liked to go for a swim-- including over the Mariana Trench where it's over six miles down to the bottom. When I asked him how he could do something like that but was scared of flying, his response? "Hell, if something goes wrong with the ship, I can swim, but if something goes wrong with the plane, I sure can't fly!"

The Navy supplied men with postcards to keep in touch with their families, like this one that Grampa sent to his mother.

He also saved some postcards from Panama.

Here's the front of a Christmas card given to the crew.

This is the interior of the Christmas card. I found the menu for Christmas dinner interesting. (Yes, the file sizes are large so you can see what you want to see!)

The LST 1030 spent a lot of time in and around the Philippines. Grampa came home with souvenirs, but they weren't guns or swords. Here is some currency issued by the Japanese military.

Here are two examples of the Japanese-issued currency that civilians had to use in the Philippines.

Something tells me the people of the Philippines were happy when Victory came.

An unknown Japanese officer.

The Japanese officer's family. On islands like Okinawa, the Japanese were firmly entrenched, and often US troops had to use flamethrowers and grenades to clear areas. Somehow I think these photos in my grandfather's possession reminded him of some of the things he had to do. That, when he looked at this photo, he saw a family very much like his own and not an enemy.

Japanese postcards. I would imagine the top one says something like "Loose lips sink ships," don't you?

Grampa came home aboard the USS Clay, which held a special Christmas dinner for the men.

The inside of the card typed on onion skin paper. Good wishes from the crew of the USS Clay, and the route that brought my grandfather and the other men home.

The menu for Grampa's last meal aboard the USS Clay. Love the names of the dishes!

A poem on the back of the card.

Grampa's commanding officer aboard the LST 1030 wrote a three-page record of exactly where they had been throughout their deployment.

Notarized card listing the uniform ribbons Grampa was allowed to wear.

My grandfather did not have an easy return home. He was plagued with what we now call PTSD. He'd wake up in the middle of horrific nightmares to find that he was strangling my grandmother. He began to drink heavily. This lasted until around 1960 when he stopped drinking, stopped smoking, and became the grandfather the five-year-old me thought had hung the moon.

If you can, hug a veteran today. If you haven't served, you have no earthly clue the hell a veteran has been through for you and yours. They deserve our respect, our gratitude... and so much more.

Love you, Grampa. Always have. Always will. You have always been my hero.

Veterans Day: We Owe a Great Debt to So Many

Thank You for Your Sacrifice

It's Veterans Day. A Day of Remembrance. A Day of Thanks.

Remember

The Flanders Fields Red Poppy was first created as a symbol of Remembrance by an American teacher, Miss Moina Belle Michael.


Moina described the way that the idea for a memorial emblem of the red poppy came to her in a moment of revelation. Moina's fascinating autobiography, The Miracle Flower, The Story of the Flanders Fields Memorial Poppy was published in 1941. Moina dedicates the book to the late Colonel John McCrae, whose poem ‘In Flanders Fields’ was the inspiration for her idea of the Flanders Fields Memorial Poppy.


As a result of Moina Michael's tireless campaigning, her complete dedication to the cause and the inspiration her idea gave to others, the delicate flower of the red field poppy has become an internationally-recognized symbol of Remembrance and welfare for war veterans.

I found the above information at The Great War website. I was stunned to discover that the poppies were an American idea. Why? Two reasons, I suppose:

(1) I haven't seen poppies for sale in the United States since I was a child.

(2) The ones you see in the photo to the left? Denis and I bought them in England, where their Remembrance Day celebrations are something very special.

So often Veterans' benefits in this country-- to be blunt-- stink. Why can't we sell poppies again and make sure all the profits go to disabled veterans? Are we so materialistic and selfish that we can't afford the change from our pockets and purses? Have we as a nation really forgotten that freedom isn't free?

In Flanders Fields

by John McCrae, May 1915

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Thank You, Veterans!

It's Memorial Day. Have you thanked a veteran yet? I hope so. No matter how much I pray that the world finds better crisis management than war, there are still things worth fighting for, and the men and women who have fought to defend the basic freedoms we enjoy should be thanked.

My family has a long history of service in the armed forces, beginning with the Revolutionary War. I begin my appreciation with them:



My great-great-great grandfather, James Henry Brown, who fought for the Union during the Civil War and died in the Battle of Franklin in Tennessee.









My grandfather, Earl Brookshier, who served aboard an LST in the South Pacific during World War II. One of the campaigns he fought in was the Battle of Okinawa. The little girl who has herself plastered against his side is my mother.








My father, Charles Cole, who was a member of the first commissioned crew aboard the aircraft carrier USS Forrestal. I don't think you need to be told the identity of the small person in his lap!







My cousin, Stan Brookshier, who was a Marine in Vietnam.










My husband, Denis Barlow, who served in the Royal Navy--mostly aboard nuclear submarines.








There are many more family members who have served. I just don't have their photos on my hard drive. I want to thank all of them as well as all other veterans who have gone in harm's way to preserve the freedoms I enjoy today. If not for them, the world would be a very different place.