Coming Home: Post Wwii
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Upon returning, he was faced with the reality that the home was not his and there was no room for him. Although not stated, the message was, Sorry Buster, you dont live here anymore. What happened?
It is generally assumed that one has a home, a physical shelter where you hang your hat, or where you are a member of a household with either the given rights of residency or other qualifying reason(s). Without the legitimacy of an assumed status in a home, does any metaphor describing a destination or objective, such as coming home, make it a rite of passage?
Despite the object lesson, the veteran courageously dealt with it and moved on achieving a better life than was anticipated or foreseen in his childhood home.
Could this story be a message, lesson, or guidance, for parents, or is it a sobering reality of rights?
Despite an upsetting experience, a last minute compromise and the veterans tenacity, allowed him a temporary residence that gave him an opportunity to adjust to the changed landscape.
Paul A. Contos
Paul Contos was born of immigrant parents in Chicago, Illinois, one of three sons and one daughter. He attended schools in Illinois earning diplomas at Drummond and Burr Elementary, and Lane Technical High schools. After graduating from high school at the age of seventeen years, he was hired as an inspector by the U. S. Signat Corps Inspectioin Zone. In March 1944, with World War II in progress, he registered for the draft. Within the following two months he volunteered to be and was inducted in the United States Army on May 30. Imperfect vision in one eye disqualified him from an opportunity with the United States Air Force. After eight weeks of basic training and four weeks in the Army Specailized Training Program (ASTP), he was assigned to the Antitank Company, attached to the 66th Infantry Regiment in the 71st (Red Circle) Division with which he served in Europe. On March 13, 1945 Paul was injured by enemy fire and earned the Meritorious Unit Citation, Bronze Star, and Purple Heart, along with other awards.. He served his country proudly. After release from military service, he took advantage of the country’s generosity under the G. I. Bill, working his way through schools and earning a Television Degree from American Television Institute in Chicago, and a Bachelor of Science Degree from the University of Illinois in Urbana. After graduating from the U. of I., he was hired by the Lockheed Aircraft Corportion (LAC) in the newly created Missiles and Space Division (LMSD). He served in numerous leadership positions until he retired after 32 years of continuous employment. He now resides in San Jose California where he keeps in close touch with nis greatest achievement, his proud family.
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Coming Home - Paul A. Contos
© 2014 Paul A. Contos. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.
Published by AuthorHouse 12/17/2013
ISBN: 978-1-4918-3243-1 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-4918-3241-7 (hc)
ISBN: 978-1-4918-3242-4 (e)
Library of Congress Control Number: 2013923121
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,
and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
Table of Contents
About The Book
Preface and Personal Note
Acknowledgement
Dedication
Chapter 1: Departing from Europe
Military Service
Scheduled Release
Farewell Schleswig
Bremerhaven, Germany
Chapter 2: Return to the United States
The Liberty Ship
New York
Fort Sheridan, Illinois
The Release
The Recruiter
Chapter 3: Return to Civilian Life
A New Beginning
Chicago
Home
Chapter 4: Surprise!
Knock, Knock, Knock
The Encounter
The Reception
Chapter 5: The Standoff
The Problem
Eviction
Chapter 6: A Tenuous Arrangement
The Solution
Reprieve for Pay
Chapter 7: Getting Settled
A Social Affair
Beginning the Income Flow
A Powder Blue Suit
Chapter 8: Education
My Road to an Education
A Brief Music Career
The Road to College
A Job Search Eye Opener
Getting Into the Education Environment
An Opportunity in the Television Industry
A Sales Opportunity
Chapter 9: A College Degree
College Entrance
The final Break
The First Two and One Half Years
A Necessary Work Break
The Final Two and One Half Years
Marriage
Honeymoon
Chapter 10: The Long Road
Education and Jobs
The Road I Travelled
One Lifelong Objective is Realized
Chapter 11: California
Goodbye Chicago
To New York
Car Troubles
A New Car
The Road to Our Home
Chapter 12: Family and Job
Our Family
My Job
A Lifelong Hope is Realized
Chapter 13: My Parents
Financial Contributions
Recognition and Debt
Trips to Chicago
Visiting Dad (Patera)
Dad Dies
The Last Time I Saw My Parents Together
Epilogue
Thoughts and Questions
Finally
My Home
About The Book
A real life experience and a sobering surprise for a WWII veteran returning to the United States after having served in Europe for about 18 months. Having been notified that it was his turn to be released from service, he was sure that he was going to the home he left two years earlier.
Upon returning, he was faced with the reality that the home was not his and there was no room for him. Although not stated, the message was, Sorry Buster, you don’t live here anymore
. What happened?
It is generally assumed that one has a home, a physical shelter where you hang your hat, or where you are a member of a household with either the given rights of residency or other qualifying reasons. Without the legitimacy of an assumed status in a home, does any metaphor describing a destination or objective, such as coming home
, make it a rite of passage?
Despite the object lesson, the veteran courageously dealt with it and moved on achieving a better life than was anticipated or foreseen in his childhood home.
Could this story be a message, lesson, or guidance, for parents, or is it a sobering reality of rights?
Despite an upsetting experience, a last minute compromise and the veterans tenacity, he was allowed a temporary residence, with conditions, that gave him an opportunity to adjust to the changed landscape.
Preface and Personal Note
The experience described in this book is not unlike many similar stories, some of which have been told and written, others may have been told but not written, and for various reasons most will never be told or written.
In a relatively significant way this story presents a saga that began at birth and revealed itself upon returning home after two years of military service. Perhaps having been subjected to intense enemy fire and barely escaping death during WWII, provided some conditioning to dodge the slings and arrows
of the unexpected. Despite the shock of rejection from my childhood home, life did eventually become very rewarding. Dealing with some situations in war and peace often require courage, sober thought, and consequences.
Having been effectively and sensitively suppressed, this story was a dark and very painful secret. It was never revealed before there was a desire to write memoirs and expose the experience as nearly as it can be recalled. Now that the principle characters have passed away, the story can be told with complete candor without inflicting pain upon them as they did to me. To reveal it when it happened was embarrassing and unthinkable.
Who willingly talks, admits, or writes about, a subtle form of rejection by someone as close as one’s parents when that expose has the potential of affecting relationships and inflicting more pain? That possibility was and is real, but after more than fifty years, it seems okay to get it out on the table, deal with it, and try to understand it if it is worthwhile. For anyone who may have experienced a similar or related situation, it may be painfully entertaining and perhaps inspire them to seek beneficial solutions.
Upon reflection, coming home was an assumption that begs the question, Did I come home?
Fortunately, although not anticipated, there was and, hopefully, will always be an answer.
Acknowledgement
Many thanks to Mrs. Ann Thompson, a great teacher, and to my fellow class mates, for all of their help in preparing this Memoir. Special thanks to Mrs. Pauline Chand for her critique.
Thanks also to Mr. Dan D’Amelio, a fellow author, for his kind words, recommendations, and advice.
Dedication
This Memoir is dedicated to my most wonderful wife Lilian, without whom I would not have known what a good life is. It is also dedicated to her gift of our four wonderful children, Leslie, Claudia, Paula, and Anthony, and their families. It has been an emotional project with hope that it will inspire my descendants, and all readers to appreciate what they have.
Chapter 1: Departing from Europe
Military Service
My name is Paul A. Contos. My military service began when I volunteered to be inducted during WWII at the age of 18. It was a personal decision with no reservations and without consulting with or informing anyone except the draft board officer. I have a surviving sister, Mary, who was born in the month of October 1945, seventeen months after my induction. I was in Europe when I received the news of her birth. Except for a grace period after release from military service, Mary and I did not see enough of each other as she grew and reached an age of awareness for us to get acquainted. Beside me, she is the only surviving family member as I write this memoir and is learning some truths about a brother who was separated from her.
The story includes events occurring before and after Mary was born. When she was old enough and free to learn some truths about her brother, she realized how little she knew about me and could only utter the refrain, Paul, I didn’t know. No one told me.
It was partly a confirmation of what I was aware and partly what I suspected. As we developed a close sibling relationship denied to both of us while our parents were alive, she has been learning and recalling some details of a story untold until now.
* * *
My military service began on May 30, 1944, the date of induction, and ended exactly two years later when I was discharged on May 29, 1946. My basic training took place at Camp Blanding, Florida. Upon completion of basic military training, I was placed in the Army Specialized Training Program (ASTP) where I was assigned to the Armorer Artificer School, commonly referred to as a Gun Smith class. Upon completion of that training I was assigned to an Antitank Company attached to the 66th Infantry Regiment of the 71st Infantry Division. The division had been recently mobilized and was being staffed, supplied, and prepared for overseas duty.
The invasion of Europe, D-Day, had been in progress for three months when the 71st Division was preparing to be transported to Europe. A German offensive stopped the allied progress through northern France and created a penetration bulge. The Allies stopped the German advance and held the line around the city of Bastogne until weather conditions allowed air support and reinforcements to relieve them.
My unit was transported to Europe aboard a Liberty ship in a convoy. I have no idea how much of the division was on that ship. Upon arriving in the English Channel the convoy was diverted to Southampton, England because of poor visibility over the Channel that created difficulty for anti submarine surveillance activity. After an overnight call at the port of Southampton, taking on some supplies, and getting a favorable weather report, we crossed the channel with air cover early the next morning. We arrived at the French port of Le Havre, in the French Province of Normandy, which had been restored sufficiently to dock the ships and allow us to disembark. Shortly after having lunch anoard the ship we were given the order to disembark and proceed to a group of cattle trucks
(open top trailers used for hauling cattle) which were waiting to transport us from the port to Camp Old Gold, one of the many staging areas named after cigarettes and referred to as cigarette camps. The weather was moderately cold and foggy with a moderately miserable continuous drizzle.
The battle around Bastogne was in a relative stalemate until the third army, under the command of General George Patton, drove a seemingly endless line of tanks to Bastogne, piercing the German defenses, and changed the direction of offensive progress. The danger of attack by enemy aircraft was present from the time we arrived in the Channel and especially during our assembly at the staging area.
The misty weather made the ride in the cattle trailers cool, wet, and miserable. I had developed a huge almost golf ball size boil on the right front side of my neck which was in need of lancing and treatment. Unfortunately the jostling of the truck along rough roads caused sufficient rubbing of my collar on the boil causing it to break open and spew puss all over my shirt. It took several handkerchiefs to collect the puss which also saturated my shirt. The open sore was later treated with Sulpha Diazine at camp Old Gold and bandaged until the draining stopped and the lance began to heal.
* * *
During the assembly of men, equipment, and supplies at the Camp Old Gold staging area in Normandy, each squad in the anti tank company (there were three) was supplied with an additional support weapon. My squad, the first, was issued a rocket launching bazooka. The second squad was issued a fifty caliber machine gun. The third squad was issued a thirty caliber machine gun or Browning Automatic Rifle (BAR) depending on which was available. The squad leaders assigned those weapons to a member of their squad. When no member of the first squad volunteered to accept the bazooka, Sergeant Labou threw it at me saying, You are it Contos.
It was the most dangerous weapon to employ so it was an affirmation that, along with all of his other actions against me, Sergeant Labou had no regard for my life. The flash from the rocket fuel immediately exposed its position to the enemy. It was undoubtedly another perverse act of thoughtfulness by Sergeant Labou.
Having issued available weapons, ammunition, food and other provisions, we were committed to the southern sector of the bulge in eastern France. On March 13, 1945, I was injured by enemy fire¹ while in the French Provence of Lorraine, south of the city of Metz. I was eventually evacuated to a Field Hospital where I received first aid and was transferred to the 99th General Hospital in Verdun.
After less than a month in the General hospital in France and about two and one half months of convalescence in England, I was returned to duty on June 5 temporarily assigned to serve in a Military Police unit in England. There wasn’t much for me to do other than search for an escaped prisoner while carrying and openly brandishing a loaded forty five caliber automatic pistol. As I searched through the local railroad station, two ladies noticed the gun and shrieked, He has a gun
. I turned to them and said, I’m with the military Police looking for an escaped prisoner. Have you seen any persons who may be of interest come through here?
No.
Thank you.
I continued the search but did not apprehend the escapee. However by the time I returned to the post, he had been apprehended by other MP’s.
On August 4, I received orders to report to the replacement depot in Northern England for re-assignment to Company B of the 359th Engineer Regiment in France. I arrived there on August 8 and served until January 19, 1946. On January 19, I was transferred to Stuttgart, Germany to serve in the Army of Occupation. In early February I was assigned as a team leader in the 612th Graves Registration Company of the Quartermaster Corps and was issued a three quarter ton vehicle with which to collect fallen American military personnel and return them to U. S. custody for identification and proper disposition in U. S. territory. Maintenance and care of the vehicle accrued to me. That assignment lasted until May. 1946.
* * *
Scheduled Release
On about May 7, while serving in the Quartermaster Corps at Schleswig, Germany, I received notice that I was eligible for release and would be returned to the United States. After the surrender of Japanese forces on August 14, 1945, the military used a point system to sequence eligible personnel back to the United States for release or reassignment. Exceptions to the point system were the critical specialties for which there was no current or timely replacement. The original document authorizing my release at the convenience of the government was TWX, WD WCL 37500 (Service), dated 15 January 1946, issued by the War Department. It was my turn to come home. It was good news and I was happy. It was an opportunity to begin a life to which I had given much thought in the six years before entering military service. As life is a challenge, my ability to realize my aspirations would be tested. Without fear, I was eager to move on to the next phase of my life. My greatest desire was that I would endeavor to get a college education, a goal I had set since my early teen ages.
While waiting for the departure date, there wasn’t much to do at Schleswig except some miscellaneous make work duties and to prepare for departure which included: processing of final transfer orders, accounting for and release of government property, attending orientations, receiving travel orders, and miscellaneous instructions, and a health check. The health check was the final stage of the