Battles of the Blue Devil's Battalion - 8 Seconds to Live

By Dale R. Lincoln

This book is about two best friends who grew up in Sherman, Illinois, on family farms next to each other. They were not related by blood, but as close friends, they would always be brothers for life. While growing up, they got in all the mischief and trouble. They work hard to help their parents make ends meet to keep the family farm. After high school, at the beginning of World War II, they joined the United States Army to fight for their country. They found battles with the Blue Devil’s Battalion in the Pacific with near escapes of death while trying to survive the war.Action World War II in the Pacific 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Outskirts Press
• Release date: Aug 11, 2023
• ISBN: 9781977271006

Dale R. Lincoln

Dale R Lincoln wanted to create a different book about mystery without war and action that went beyond his writings and expressed imagination and originality. As of today, there is no known cure for a split personality, and it can only be subdued through the use of a proper doctor and medication. It is essential to put the reader in the shoes of the FBI agents and New York City detectives as they try to solve the crimes. To make the reader think of such heinous crimes that are happening every day. The reader has many possibilities for how they want the book to end. 

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Battles of the Blue Devil’s Battalion - 8 Seconds to Live

All Rights Reserved.

Copyright © 2023 Dale R. Lincoln

v2.0

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

The opinions expressed in this manuscript are solely the opinions of the author and do not represent the opinions or thoughts of the publisher. The author has represented and warranted full ownership and/or legal right to publish all the materials in this book.

This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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Cover Photo © 2023 Howard L. Price. All rights reserved - used with permission.

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PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

Introduction to the book

This book is about two best friends who grew up in Sherman, Illinois, on family farms next to each other. They were not related by blood, but as close friends, they would always be brothers for life. While growing up, they got in all the mischief and trouble. They work hard to help their parents make ends meet to keep the family farm. After high school, at the beginning of World War II, they joined the United States Army to fight for their country. They found battles with the Blue Devil’s Battalion in the Pacific with near escapes of death while trying to survive the war.

Dedication

This book is dedicated to:

To my wife Mieko for her help with Okinawa

To my children Gregory A. Tomlin, Sharon A. Wheet, and Karen A. Tomlin

To all the men of United Staes Army that fought in the pacfic during World War II

Table of Contents

Introduction to the book

Chapter One: Life on The Farm

Chapter Two: Going To Springfield

Chapter Three: Joining the United States Army

Chapter Four: Fort Snelling and Fort Ord

Chapter Five: Operation Red Robin

Chapter Six: Operation Blue Razorbill

Chapter Seven: Operation Yellow Reed Warbler

Chapter Eight: Operation Purple Russet Sparrow

Chapter Nine: Operation Green Rosefinch

Chapter Ten: Operation Orange Rook

Chapter Eleven: Operation Black Rock Kestrel

Chapter Twelve: Operation White Relict Gull

Chapter Thirteen: Operation Pink Rosella

Chapter Fourteen: Operation Gold Rifleman

Chapter Fifteen: Operation Silver River Tern

Chapter Sixteen: Operation Ridgway Rainbow Rail

List of Notes and Illustrations

CHAPTER ONE

Life on The Farm

1938 Our Dad Gene, Mom Catherine, Brothers Gene (Genie), James (Jimmy), Roger (Rogie), and sister Connie Tomlin, all working a 160-acre farm, was a rough and tough life. We had to feed and water livestock, milk cows, gather eggs, and plant and gather crops from the garden and fields. Dad still plowed the fields with a team of mules he brought for 200 dollars, naming them Rosie and Clyde. He made the fatal mistake one day of giving them sugar cubes, then from now on, they would not move to work until they got their sugar cubes. After my brothers and I got a certain age, we plowed the fields with Rosie and Clyde. Dad, Mom, Gene, Jimmy, and Roger work in the field by pulling the seeds in by hand. Dad and mom were hard workers, up before sunrise and working until sunset except for Sunday, the day of church and rest. Sunday was my best day of the week because mom would cook all our favorite food. One morning while I was sleeping, I could hear my mother calling me to wake up. She said: Wake up sleeping head and get downstairs and help your brothers milk the cows. You know they are not going to milk themselves. Mom reminded me to bring Sally’s milk back to the house; it would be a butter-making day. I ran and caught up with my brothers Gene and Jimmy were walking to the barn.

Then, we decided who would milk Besty the Holstein, Betty the Holstein, or Sally. Gene and Jimmy picked the Holsteins, and I got Sally. Holstein cows are known for their gentleness, sweet temperament, and giant breed of dairy cow, weighing about 1,500 pounds when mature. Old Besty and Betty gave about 10 gallons of milk each by milking them twice daily. Jersey cow weighs between 1,000 pounds when mature. Mom’s favorite cow was Sally gave about 8 gallons of milk by milking her twice daily. Because she gave her the best cream, mom made all her butter and buttermilk. Using that one-leg milking stool to was an art to keep your balance while milking cows without falling off. We had cats in the barn to keep the mice population under control. The cats always knew when to milk the cows, so they would wait for us. So while the cats were sitting everywhere, I would take an utter and squirt milk in their faces. I can still hear Mom yelling, "Do not waste milk on those cats. But, as soon as she was gone, I would return to squirting the cats with milk. Since the cows gave so much milk, we were using 15-quart milk pails, and we had to stop in the middle of milking to put the milk into larger milk cans. When Gene, Jimmy, and me finishing milking, I took the pail of Sally’s milk to the house.

Mom had a glass butter churn that held four quarts of cream. We had to follow Mom’s steps on making butter. Mom and our sister Connie stood by and ensured we were doing it right. Step 1: Pour Sally’s cream into the churn. Step 2: Put the lid on securely and start mixing. My brothers Gene, Jimmy, and I took turns turning the handle. Step 3: When the cream started thickening and sticking to the sides, mom would open the churn and push it down to the bottom again. Gene, Jimmy, or Roger often would say: Mom, it is getting thick again. Step: 4: Gene, Jimmy, and I were always amazed as we churned until the magic happened.

Mom would always tell us to stop churning; we would have buttermilk. Step 5: Mom would drain the buttermilk and use it for cooking and making pancakes, or we would just drink it. Step 6: Mom would rinse and drain the butter blob; she would use cold water so it would not melt. Step 7: With a flat spatula, Mom would squish the butter against the side of a bowl. She always did this to get any buttermilk or rinse water to squish it out. I asked Mom why are you squishing so fast? As she squished like a mad woman, she said: Roger, with all this work we need, we do not want it to spoil. Mom poured off as much buttermilk as possible; Roger put it in a jar and then in the refrigerator Step 8: Mom would add salt and then form a small block of butter. Then. she would put the butter and buttermilk in her new Kelvinator refrigerator. Dad surprised Mom with the new refrigerator; she just sat there and cried, kissed, thanked him, and commented: At last, I can get rid of that old icebox."

One morning, while the family was having breakfast, Connie was helping Mom make her famous buttermilk pancakes. Dad said: This morning, Gene and Jimmy’s finished putting nose rings in the pigs to discourage them from rooting. Roger and I are going to the Price farm cause Henry brought a new John Deere for about 1,000 dollars, and we can not afford a tractor this year cause I brought the 1938 Ford Deluxe Tudor sedan. Henry wanted to buy the 1938 Minneapolis Moline UDLX Comfortractor but not because it was too expensive at 1,900 dollars. We fought out later. Dad pays 725 dollars for the new Ford. Jimmy asked: Dad, why are you going to the Price’s farm? Dad said: Henry is going to give us his old lister, which the mules can pull, and we do not have to plant by hand anymore. Gene said: We do not have to walk those fields and plant by hand anymore?’ Dad said: Yes, Mr. Price told me it is really simple to operate and explained it to me in layman’s terms. Henry said: The lister is an old two-wheel horse-drawn lister plow and planter. The seeds would fall into the ditch dug by the lister, and then the blade would cover them with soil. The gear on the main shaft would have had a chain going up to the small gear to drive everything. It would have had a big hopper on the round disk, and as it turned, the seed would be passed through and go into the soil. Mom, Gene, Jimmy, and Roger were jumping up and down, saying: Thank Goodness no more planting by hand. Dad said: Roger, while you are talking to Howard, I will talk to Mr. Price about the lister. Then, Dad said: Tomorrow, boys, we will have to use the Burdizzo clamp on those five young bulls. Dad turned to Roger and said: Let’s go, son, over to the Price farm; the daylight is wasting away. Dad and I jumped in the truck and headed for the Price farm. When we pulled up, Mr. Price showed Howard how to operate the new tractor. Dad said: Hi, Henry. Mr. Price said: ‘Hi, Gene. Then, he told Howard to go talk to Roger while he would be explaining the lister to Mr. Tomlin. Howard said: Good news, I might get to go with you and your brothers to the movies in Springfield this weekend. Only one condition I have to have all my chores finished before I can go. Then, Roger said: If you need help, just call me; you know we have been planning this outing for a long time. Then Howard said: You know our old bull who has been knocking down your fence to get to your cows. Let’s see that old bull now; when Howard and Roger walked up to the bull, it was as cool as a cumber. Mr. Price had the bull’s nose pierced with a hole in the nasal septum, and he inserted a ring with a one-foot chain attached. Howard said: Now when he tried to knock over the fence, that chain hits the fence, and his nose is so sensitive he just backs off without trying to knock it over to get to your cows. Howard and Roger ran off to the old walnut tree just to talk while their fathers were talking about wheat. Mr. Price was talking to my Dad about all the farmers’ regulations. Then, Mr. Price would say: Those damn Russians are growing wheat like crazy, and their government is not regulating how much wheat to grow. Dad said: You know, Henry, I just hope in the future that our sons will work the land and make a good living without all this bull shit on government regulations on what to grow or not to grow and get a fair price when they sell their product. Henry turned to Gene and said: You know Gene, that will be the day, but I will believe it when I see it. Dad called Roger, and Henry called Howard; ok, boys, it’s supper time. After supper, the Tomlin family sat in the living room, and Dad, Mom, Gene, Jimmy, Roger, and Connie talked about the pigs, wheat, and butter. Father insisted we sell the pigs on the market when they reach about 200 pounds. This year with the economy down, we can not afford to feed them past the 200 pounds. Then Dad just laughed and said: We can not have those 200-pound pigs eating like 400-pound pigs. It seems we always had problems on the farm; one year, we had too many heifer calves, and that damn old bull was jumping every cow that crossed his path. Roger, you keep that old boar in with the sows; we need large litter piglets (gilts) to take to the market. If that bore wanders off, take a stick to his behind and get him back in the pen to start porking those sows. Another thing, son, pick out a good baconer, for we can eat well this winter.

I was thinking about when our old sow was in labor and she was having trouble giving birth to her piglets. One day I told Dad that old Lucky, our sow, was acting funny and making some kind of nest in the corner of the shed. Dad told me, Well, son, she will have babies pigs. So Dad took me to the pig pen and explained how pigs give birth and what to look for. Dad said: Look for her vulva changing shape. Then, I asked what is a vulva? Dad said: An animal’s vulva is like a woman’s vagina when they give birth; that is what the babies come from.. Dad bent down, padded Lucky on her back, and told her everything would be alright. Then he gently squeezed her teats, and little drops of milk came out; he looked up at me and said: Well, son, it will not be long now; we will have piglets soon. I checked on Lucky for the next few days to see if she was OK. I remember the third day I told Dad Lucky looked like she was in much pain. Dad and I ran to the pig shed, and poor Lucky was in pain, grunting, and restless. Dad said: Son do you want to help me deliver these piglets? If not, get your mother, I said: Yes, Dad, I want to help. He said: Go to the house and tell your mother you need a bucket of warm water, towels, a spray bottle of iodine, a ball sucker, and a bottle of lubricant, and hurry as fast as you can; I will stay and help Lucky. I watched my Dad roll up his sleeves, he told me to pour warm water on his arm, and he washed as clean as possible. Next, he told me to pour generously the lubricate on his arm. I stood with my eyes and mouth wide open as my Dad reached into the pig. He reached up to his wrist and said: Rog, I can feel the stuck piglet. The piglet was sideways with a massive head, so he could not come out. It took my Dad about ten minutes of trying before he could finally pull the pig free. Dad handed me the piglet. I said: Daddy, the little pig is not breathing. Dad Said: Rogie take that ball sucker and suck the mucus out of his mouth and nose, I squeezed the bulb down and released it, and it sucked the mucus out the little pig started breathing. Dad said: Now put him by Lucky. Of all the baby animals born, I still think the baby pig is the cuteness with their smooth pink skin. As soon as the piglet was free, Old lucky shot out five more piglets like someone firing a machine gun. Afterward, Dad told me I was lucky to get him; everything in there was as slippery as can be. Lucky looked at Dad as if to say Thank you for your help, and piglets went right after those tits to get that milk. To sterilize, Dad sprayed his hands and arm with iodine. While nursing, Dad told me not to mess or play with those piglets; since this was Lucky’s first litter, she would be aggressive and protective of her babies. Of course, Roger did not listen to his Dad, and the next day he got in the pig pen playing with the little pig that his Dad helped deliver. The little pig squeaked, and Lucky came at full speed right after Roger; just before she hit him, these two arms grabbed Roger under his arms and pulled him out of the pen. As my Dad put me down, he said: Roger, I told you not to mess or play with those piglets. I ran and cried to the house, Mom asked me what was wrong, and I told her. She said, Count your lucky stars, young man; it was good that your Dad was there, or you would be pig food.

Dad always talked about prices increasing and insisted on selling butter for 50 cents a pound; we had to sell butter at 20 cents a pound. Then one year, we had a great crow of wheat which usually sold for a dollar a bushel, but that year since we had so much wheat, Dad had to sell for 50 cents a bushel. Then one year after our solo for storing wheat, the government created a new regulation. The regulation stated: The bin must be cleaned of all old wheat and thoroughly cleaned before new wheat is stored. It must be securely and completely closed and sealed to require a forceful breaking to make entry. Dad, my brother Gene, Jimmy, and I worked our asses off cleaning out the old grain so we could store new grain. Our Dad always thought that was funny and would say: Who in their right mind would break into a solo to steal wheat. Dad laughed and would say: Oh, I know a giant group of mischiefs (mice) who love wheat. Then the thing that pissed Dad off was this statement: Farmers who store their Wheat on the farm will be responsible for the delivery of the quantity and grade of wheat specified in the storage certificate. Once you got my Dad started, Katty bars the door when he talks about selling prices. He said: "Our butter prices went down because Mr. Price’s bull kept knocking down our fence and jumping every cow that crossed his path. We have