Love and War: Our Journey Through Life

By Warren MacQuarrie and Clara MacQuarrie

This is about the extraordinary lives of two people who fell in love on the cusp of WWII. They secretly married after the war started and survived three wars while raising a family of five.

Clara and Warren married while he was in the Marine Corps’ flight training. Over thirty years of highly decorated marine service, Warren flew thirty different aircraft and survived scores of combat missions and close calls in WWII, Korea, and Vietnam.

What saw Warren through the darkest hours of three wars and Clara through lonely and extended separations while taking care of five kids were their dedication and love. Warren would always come home, and Clara would always be there. And after seventy-five years of marriage, that holds true today.

Affectionately known by friends and family as the General and the Colonel, Clara and Warren’s memoir is an inspiring, remarkable story of love and war—a journey through life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Dec 11, 2018
• ISBN: 9781546249764

Book preview

© 2019 Warren and Clara MacQuarrie. 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 12/10/2018

ISBN: 978-1-5462-4978-8 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5462-4977-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5462-4976-4 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2018907774

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

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.

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Contents

About the Author

Acknowledgments

I. The Journey Begins (1923 - 1941)

Warren’s Family and Childhood

Clara’s Family and Childhood

High School Years

Post High School

II. The War Years World War II, Training (1941 - 1944)

Joining the Navy

Civilian Pilot Training (CPT)

Marriage Interlude

Pre-Flight Training

Primary Flight Training

Advanced Flight Training and Joining the U.S. Marine Corps

VMB-612

III. The War Years World War II, Combat (1944 - 1945)

Saipan

Combat Missions

The Battle for Okinawa

Japan Surrenders, Occupation of Japan

Typhoon and Return to the United States

IV. The Family Journey Peacetime (1945 - 1950)

Post-World War II

Quantico

Cherry Point

Duty in Oahu, Hawaii

Third Marine Aircraft Wing, MCAS, El Toro

V. The War Years Korea (1950 - 1952)

Buildup to War

Transfer to Fighters

The Korean War

VI. The Family Journey Continues (1952 - 1968)

Opa-locka, Florida

Springfield/Washington D.C.

Stanford

Tustin and Atsugi, Japan

Return to the Springfield House

Quantico

Transition to Helicopters

Operation Steel Pike

Life in Panama

Panama to California to Vietnam

VII. The War Years Vietnam (1968 - 1969)

The Vietnam War

Operation Meade River

Operation Taylor Common

Quantico

VIII. The Family Journey Second Career, Military Retirement (1972 - 1988)

Winchester

Return to California, Family Moves

Tiburon

San Diego

IX. Life in Novato (1988 - 2000)

Our Lives Change as Retirement Begins

More Time for Travel and Family Visits

Clara Continues Her Charity Work

Time for New Hobbies and Activities

Life on a Golf Course

The Challenge of Maintaining a Large Home

Decision to Move to PVE: The Final Chapter

X. Life at Paradise Valley Estates: Clara’s Retirement Years (2000 - 2017)

Ready to Retire Completely

PVE Activities Begin

Friendships Start

Health Care Was a Primary Motivator for Moving to PVE

Milestone Celebrations with Family and Friends

Activities Grow: Calendars Are Now a Requirement

PVE Evolves Over Time

Epilogue

The Family 75th Wedding Anniversary Party

The PVE 75th Wedding Anniversary Party

Gratitude

The End

The Family Remembrances

Linda

Warren Jr.

Jean

Nancy

Mark

Extended Family

Warren’s Sister Muriel Alice MacQuarrie Hunter’s Children

Warren’s Brother Gilbert MacQuarrie Jr.’s Children

Warren’s Cousin

Clara’s Siblings

Appendix A: Aircraft Flown

Appendix B: Medals Awarded

About the Author

T his is our story, a memoir of long lives well lived, lives full of adventure, risks, travel, good fortune, sacrifice, patriotism, and most of all, love and family. Both of us are New Englanders; we met in high school. Secretly married not long after World War II started, we began a life never imagined. As a Marine aviator, I left Clara to go fight in three wars while she raised our five wonderful children and made the best of every situation. Our journey took us to many countries and cultures. Written over many years and with memories aided by a lifetime of photos, family, and friends, this is our story up to and including our 75 th wedding anniversary. We continue to create new memories every day and look forward to writing about our 80 th anniversary.

Acknowledgments

T his memoir has been compiled from historical research, interviews with family members, personal documents, flight log books and photographs, and our best recollection of events.

First and foremost, I must thank my wife of 75 years, Clara. She has endured 12 years of my writing this memoir and has always been my test of true memory for both dates and content.

I also want to thank my children and grandchildren who tell stories of all the family events over the years, especially the ones that I missed due to my military travel. Each of our children made many contributions to this book and provided a summary of their life journeys in the Remembrances Section of the book.

I am grateful for my daughter Nancy’s availability and skill for accessing my computer regularly for well over a decade to resolve the many technical barriers I faced. Nancy has been instrumental in photo management and getting some of our older photos professionally scanned. Nancy helped me write the chapters on Novato and PVE. Nancy also worked hard with our professional editor to coordinate the final touches on the book throughout the editing process.

Our entire family is grateful to Steven Bustin for partnering with us to assist with the publishing of this memoir. Steven devoted many hours interviewing Clara and me to understand our military journey and experiences. Steven utilized that information for a presentation of my military career at our 75th wedding anniversary. He also participated in editing the war chapters by adding additional military history to the book. Steven is a published author of WWII history and provided us with the confidence and direction for how to get our book published. We are very grateful to have Steven’s assistance and his admiration for our journey.

Thank you to Coline LeConte for designing the book cover, capturing the dichotomy of close family and three major wars so artistically. And thank you to Linda Gray for contributing a high degree of professional editing skills combined with a great sensitivity to the personal nature of the story. Linda not only provided exceptional editing, she bonded with our family story and family members, was expeditious in the continuous improvements through many versions of editing, and was meticulous in finding enhancement opportunities from the viewpoint of the reader. We are very grateful to have partnered with her in the publishing of this book.

Finally, Clara and I want to recognize all of our children and Steve Bustin, but particularly Mark, for his constant coordination with our publisher, AuthorHouse. We learned it takes a village to publish a book.

I

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The Journey Begins

1923 to 1941

Warren’s Family and Childhood

M y maternal grandmother, Margaret Livingstone, was born in Scotland. She told me that she was related to the African missionary and explorer Doctor David Livingstone (1815–1873). She married Martin McClymont who was born in Scotland and worked in a Glasgow shipyard. They had four children: Mary Leslie, Betty, Jean, and Norman. My mother, Mary Leslie, was born in Edinburgh, Scotland, on October 19, 1890, and immigrated to America with her family while she was still a young child. They were part of the great Scottish migration to America as 5,246,613 Scots arrived between 1881 and 1890. After landing at Ellis Island, the family made its way to the Boston area where the first subway in America was built in 1887, the same year baseball pitcher Michael Kid Madden, a rail-thin, 19-year-old rookie won 21 games for the Boston Red Stockings. They lived the rest of their lives in the Boston area.

My paternal grandfather was Angus MacQuarrie. He emigrated from Scotland to Nova Scotia. Later, he and his family made their way to the Boston area. Their children were my father, Gilbert; his brother, Robert; and his sisters, Annie and Tina who lived together in Dorchester.

My father, Gilbert John MacQuarrie, was born in Boston on February 3, 1887. He met my mother in Boston, and they were married in 1912, the same year as the first baseball game at Fenway Park. They had three children: Muriel Alice was born in Dorchester on June 29, 1914, the year Mother’s Day became a national holiday and World War I started; Gilbert John MacQuarrie, Jr., was born in Dorchester on December 19, 1916, the year Boston Trolley Car 393 plummeted into Boston Harbor killing 46 commuters. I was born at home, 16 Meagher Avenue, Milton, Massachusetts, on March 1, 1923. That, too, was a historic year: Insulin was first used to treat diabetes, the first baseball game was played at Yankee Stadium, and over 100,000 Japanese perished in the Great Kano Earthquake.

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My Parents Mary and Gilbert with Gilbert Jr. and Muriel Alice

Milton, a very old and historic town, was founded in 1640 and incorporated in 1642 by some of the Puritans who settled the Massachusetts Bay Colony in 1630. A small residential town located about 10 miles south of Boston, Milton is situated between the Neponset River and Blue Hills. It was a quaint, primarily agricultural town until after the Civil War and began transforming into a Boston suburb in 1856 when the Old Colony Railroad started service to downtown Boston. Even today, Milton has many 19th-century houses and fieldstone property walls scattered throughout the community. My parents bought their home in the late 1920s when the population was about 10,000 but growing to 16,434 by 1930.

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Our house at 16 Meagher Ave., Milton, Massachusetts

The average American home price at that time was about $6,000. The house featured a kitchen, living room, and dining room as well as a sunporch downstairs. There were two bedrooms and one bathroom upstairs. Mom and dad had the master bedroom, and Muriel had the second bedroom. Gil and I slept in the attic, which had been converted into a small bedroom. There was a full basement with a coal furnace that later was converted to oil burning. There also was a separate two-car garage and a backyard of about a quarter acre.

Dad worked as a salesman for the Jessup Steel Company in Boston and made a good living for the family, even through the depression years. He enjoyed gambling and often went to the horse track in the afternoon and the dog track in the evening; on occasion, he played poker at the University Club at night. During World War I (1914–1918), dad was exempt from military service because he was married with two children. Mother was a good homemaker who cooked well and took good care of her family. Prior to her marriage, she was a bookkeeper, and during World War II she worked in an ammunition factory.

I attended the Tucker Grammar School on Blue Hill Avenue through the sixth grade and walked about a half mile to school. I tell my grandchildren that I walked through snow up to my knees. I also remember playing marbles with my pals on the way to and from school. Our family attended the Parkway Presbyterian Church where I was baptized. I recall that as a youngster I always wanted to fly. The airliners flying from Boston to New York passed directly over our house, and I would watch them until they passed out of sight. I thought I would like to be a pilot someday. Little did I know at the time what life had in store for me. Dad and I once flew as passengers in a small sightseeing plane, and that aroused my interest in flying even more.

In my early childhood, a close family friend gave me piano lessons, which I disliked, and the lessons stopped after about a year. At about age eight, my folks gave me a pair of skis and poles for Christmas. There were no bindings, just toe straps to hold my overshoes to the skis. There was a small hill not too far from the house where I taught myself to snowplow and make turns. As I became more experienced, I received bindings and regular ski boots and began to ski the more advanced slope in the Blue Hills Recreation Area just a few miles from our house. Later, as a teenager, I drove or took the snow train to New Hampshire and skied various slopes and trails in the White Mountains. My father took me to Red Sox and Braves baseball games and to the Boston Bruins hockey games at the Boston Garden.

Our family vacationed in Richmond, Maine, each summer where we owned a country home at 20A River Road. My first recollection of going to Maine was the long drive in the car and the bumpy, washboard dirt road going from Richmond to the house. The house had no electricity or gas; we used kerosene lanterns for light and a woodburning stove in the kitchen for cooking. The kitchen had a pump at the sink, which pumped water from a well on the property. There were two small bedrooms and a kitchen on the first floor and one very large room on the second floor that was furnished with four double beds with a chamber pot under each bed. The toilet was a two-seat outhouse located about 50 yards downhill from the house. The kitchen opened to a large open-air porch where we ate our meals and entertained summer guests. The yard was about two acres with a tall flagpole and a hammock hung between two large, beautiful maple trees. There also was a small one-car garage used for storage.

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Warren in front of Maine vacation home

My mother entertained many guests each summer, including grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and my sister’s boyfriends. Dad worked in Boston during the week but joined the family in Maine on most weekends. Richmond was primarily an agricultural area, but it did have a shoe factory in town. It is located on the Kennebec River, which runs from northern Maine to the Atlantic Ocean. The house was located about a mile north of the Kennebec, but we did have a view of it from the porch.

One of our favorite activities was swimming at Sandy Beach located on the river about two miles from the house. While swimming, everyone took a weekly bath since there was no bathtub or shower at the house. Before buying the house in the early 1930s my parents vacationed in Maine by taking either the C.W. Morse or J.T. Morse ships of the Eastern Steamship Lines out of Portland to a campground on the Kennebec River in Richmond, Maine. The campground had a number of small cottages that were either owned or rented by vacationers. During one of these vacations, they found and bought the Maine house. We always enjoyed visiting the campground, where we made a number of friends. It featured a religious tabernacle where church services and other activities were held. My mother loved to go there and sing the old religious songs; her favorite was The Old Rugged Cross.

On Fridays, mother was on the lookout for the fish peddler who stopped by to sell her tinker mackerel or other fresh fish for the evening meal. Occasionally, we drove to Boothbay Harbor to have a lobster dinner and take a sightseeing cruise on the boat Balmy Days. Balmy Days is now the name of the boat cruise company in Boothbay Harbor. Little did I know that in later years I would meet and marry a beautiful girl from nearby Southport Island!

A favorite pastime in Maine was playing quoits on the lawn. Dad was very good and hard to beat in a game. Just up the road was a little store run by an old man named Pat Farley where we kids bought cokes and candy and chatted with the local folks who congregated there. Pat had a horseshoe pit near the store where I learned to play the game but never could beat Fartyleelee as we called him. The Flood family had a small farm nearby where they grew hay and some vegetables. They also had a horse, a few cows, and a barn. We kids loved to jump in the hay and milk the cows. The Floods sold milk and veggies to our family, cut our grass, and tended to the property in the winter. Our next-door neighbors were the Clark family, who also came from the Boston area and spent their summers in Richmond. Mom’s most frequent houseguests included Aunt Emma McClymont; her two daughters, Ruthie and Dottie; Aunt Ruth Bolles, Uncle Clyde Bolles, and their young daughter Nancy. We also had my maternal grandparents, Martin and Margaret McClymont. Other periodic guests included Uncle Charlie, a friend of my brother, and Muriel’s friends: Ann Garvin, cousin Margie Snow, and Muriel’s husband to be, Bill Hunter.

During my early teenage years in Maine, I met my first girlfriend, Evelyn Praetch, who lived at the campground with her family but enjoyed spending time with me and my family. At age 14, I learned to drive in my mother’s car, at that time a Willys Knight, a very popular car that had sales of about 50,000 a year every year since 1922. At age 15 in 1938, the year the Long Island Express Category 5 hurricane killed 682 people in New England, I was able to obtain my Maine driving license because Maine farm boys needed licenses at an early age to drive farm vehicles. I always loved to drive and had ample opportunity because our family always owned two cars. My favorite was our 1940, 12-cylinder Lincoln Zephyr that had plenty of pickup and speed. My brother Gil, his girlfriend Thelma, Uncle Charlie, and I went to barn dances on weekends, and my mother would insist that I drive the car because I was the youngest and didn’t drink. Maine was a dry state at that time, but we stopped at the local bootlegger’s house to buy a fifth of genuine white lightning. During dance intermissions, we went to the car for a sip or two. We danced at Island Park in Augusta and Wit’s End and Hayes Casino in Southport. Just think, I might have danced with Clara if she had been there! After Labor Day, it was time to close up the house by putting up the shutters that covered all the doors and windows and enclosed the porch. We always enjoyed our summers in Maine and looked forward to the next vacation. As I grew older, my friends and I occasionally made trips to Maine at other times of the year, even in the winter.

Clara’s Family and Childhood

R onald D. Orchard, a Marr family member, has written a detailed history titled The Marr Family . It includes a photograph of Clara’s great-grandfather, Jaruel Marr (1829–1907). He was a lighthouse keeper and married Catherine Westman who died in 1920. Their six children included Clara’s grandfather, Wolcott Hamlin Marr (1868–1930). Wolcott followed his father as lighthouse keeper at Hendricks Head Lighthouse. He married Hattie Hatch (1869–1948). His photo shows him holding his youngest child, Arthur Fickett Marr. Clara’s father, Thomas Perry Marr was born February 19, 1897, as the third child of Wolcott and Hattie. Tom met his future wife, Wilma Alton Morton, when they both worked at the B&M Bean factory in Portland, Maine. Wilma was born September 4, 1900, in Portland, Maine. They were married in 1917 and lived in the town of Grey, where Clara’s older siblings were born—Tom, Jr. in 1918, Mildred in 1921, and George in 1923. Tom and Wilma then moved the family to West Southport where Clara was born in 1924, Shirley in 1926, and Richard in 1930.

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Clara was born at home in West Southport, Maine on August 29, 1924, delivered by Dr. George Gregory. Southport is a small island community and a popular summer resort, connected by a swing bridge to Boothbay Harbor. Her parents, Wilma and Thomas Marr settled in Southport around 1918 after moving there from the Portland area. Tom was a World War I veteran who served in the U.S. Army as a cook. Tom was also a commercial fisherman who crewed with Willis Brewer and other local men to catch herring during the fishing season. Leland Snowman joined their crew in 1934. Tom also fished for codfish and hake for family consumption. The fish were sun dried, salted, and hung in the cellar until needed in the winter. Wilma did a lot of canning in the summer, including green beans, peas, carrots, berries, and dandelion greens that the children dug from nearby fields. In the cellar, they stored 50-gallon barrels of flour, sugar, cornmeal, and other staples for use in the winter. Tom also hunted for deer, rabbit, and birds for food. At times, the family had a cow or a pig and always raised chickens. In the winter, Tom made his living by doing carpentry work and other jobs he could find. He also served as a town selectman. Their house was located on the Dogfish Head Road overlooking Ebenecook Harbor and about a mile’s walk from the Pinkham store where the family bought their groceries. Charlie Pinkham, owner of the store, gave credit to local families who had little income during the winter and would pay their bills during the summer when they were working.

The Marr’s house had a large kitchen, which also served as their dining room; it also had a bed. A woodburning stove in the kitchen was used for cooking and provided the only heat for the house. Clothing was washed in a large copper boiler pot, which was heated on the kitchen stove, and Saturday night baths were taken in a large galvanized tub. The living room was not used a great deal and had a Victrola record player as Clara recalls. Water came from a spring well located in the cellar, and kerosene lamps in each room provided light. There was no telephone; thus, any calls were made from the pay phone at the Pinkham store.

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Clara’s childhood home in West Southport, Maine

Tom and Wilma slept in a bedroom located on the ground floor, and the children had two bedrooms upstairs. The three sisters all slept in one double bed with a feather mattress. In the winter, it was so cold upstairs that the girls placed heated soap stones wrapped in flannel in the bed for warmth. Toilet facilities were provided by a two-seater outhouse located some distance from the house. Of course, each bedroom had a chamber pot for use at night.

Whenever the family needed medical attention they called Dr. George Gregory (who delivered Clara), the family physician for many of the Southport families. In those days, doctors made house calls regardless of weather. The only hospital was located in Boothbay Harbor. Clara attended the West Southport Grammar School, a one-room schoolhouse located in the town center about two miles from their house. Pupils from kindergarten through eighth grade attended in the same room and were taught by one teacher, Mrs. Violet Smith. Clara had the same teacher through the eighth grade! She walked to school and recalls one winter the snow was so deep that she was carried home on her father’s shoulders.

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Clara, George, Shirley and Dick class photo

Although George was a year older and started school one year ahead of her, Clara was advanced one grade, and they graduated together. One of Clara’s fondest memories as a small child was spending time with her paternal grandparents, Walcott and Harriet Marr, who lived in and operated the Hendricks Head Lighthouse that marked the west side entrance of the Sheepscot River. First established in 1829 and then built in the current configuration in 1875, the historic lighthouse was source of two local legends.

In March 1875, in the midst of a raging storm, keeper Jarul Marr saw a vessel in trouble half a mile out. Unable to launch a rescue boat in the rough seas, he and his wife quickly built a bonfire signal. He then noticed something floating, being violently tossed about in the waves. It was two feather beds bound up together and between them, a soaked wooden box containing a small baby girl. She was the only survivor that night and was later adopted by a local doctor and his wife. The child’s name was Seaborn.

The other legend was more macabre. In the early part of the 20th century, keeper Charles Knight left the lighthouse one night to pick up mail at the post office when he saw a stranger, a well-dressed, attractive young woman walking along the water’s edge. He mentioned her to the postmaster upon arriving, and he too had noticed the woman. The next morning the woman’s body, weighed down by a flatiron, washed ashore. It was thought she had committed suicide. Her identity was never discovered. The good people of Southport pitched in and gave her a decent Christian burial. She became known as the Ghost Lady of the Dusk; and people swear they have seen her ghost on the beach as the sun sets.

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Hendrick’s Lighthouse, West Southport, Maine

Clara recalls helping her grandfather ring the huge bell to warn sailors of danger during bad weather. While climbing the lighthouse stairs, her grandfather always gave her a few Necco Wafers, which she loved.

Money was scarce in those days, and each summer from the time she was