Grandfather Jones

Both of my grandfathers served in the US Army during World War Two. Based on the stories I've heard, it sounds like they both volunteered and served towards the end of the war (1943-1945). My paternal grandfather was stationed exclusively in Europe, fighting on the ground after D-Day. During one engagement, his actions thwarted the advance of a German tank and saved the lives of a dozen American soldiers. He himself never mentioned this event and only years later was presented with the medal he earned that day because of the research undertaken by one of my cousins. I hope to include a transcript of that research later rather than sharing my ersatz recollections.

My maternal grandfather's story I remember well enough to recount myself.  My mother's father was a burly man with white wavy hair. In uniform, he was slimmer and his wavy hair was shorter, black, and not long enough to be wavy. During the war he picked up habits for coffee, pipes and firearms that he maintained until nearly the very end of his life

When WWII began, he worked as a traveling salesman with the Gulf Oil Company and his territory encompassed southern Georgia and north Florida. That description might sound impressive, but remember back in the day that Florida was St. Augustine west through Tampa Bay, past Tallahassee and over to Pensacola. The only large populations on the peninsula were Miami and Key West at the very south. The remainder was scrubland and swamps until NASA and the Magic Kingdom arrived in the sixties. With the war effort consuming massive resources, there was little oil or gasoline left for him to sell to the public. He signed up to fight in the Army infantry and was training in the midwest when the news came.

Apparently as the freshest member of the Allies, the United States was mobilizing the whole Western hemisphere. That meant that the US Army was training troops in nearby countries like Brazil. And in Brazil, citizens spoke Portuguese. So some IBM computer combed through the skills of the newest recruits to determine which soldiers spoke Portuguese and could serve as trainers for the nascent Brazilian infantry.

The computer spit out three names.That number was way too few to train an army.

So the generals, bureaucrats & programmers decided that "Hey, Spanish is almost Portuguese!" and reran the program. My grandfather, with a working knowledge of Spanish developed selling along the Gulf Coast (as well as other aptitudes) bubbled to the top of the list of candidates. Before he knew it, he received orders to wrap up his training and immediately ship south to Sao Paulo to begin training Brazilian soldiers.

He served there uneventfully for months. But by late 1944, the Allied military felt certain about victory.  At that point the idea was no longer to train more troops but instead get every able-bodied soldier to the frontlines. The operation in Brazil stopped and in Spring 1945 my grandfather found himself leaving New York with hundreds of fresh soldiers, sailing off to Europe

He never finished that particular trip. The transport ran into engine trouble two days into the voyage and received orders to return to New York. The day after the engine mishap, Germany surrendered.

So the next day, a ship full of troops pulls into New York harbor, and somehow the erroneous news spread that these soldiers were the first wave of triumphant veterans from Europe. My grandfather said his platoon spent the next few days being celebrated, paraded and feted all about the Big Apple.

Eventually he made it to Europe to help reestablish order, but that part of his past wasn't near as exciting and not worth mentioning, he'd then tell me.

Should you believe this story? Not at all. My grandfather was a wonderful joker and loved a good story, veracity be damned. Regardless of your opinion, thank you for reading.

Sincerely ~ Adm. Wolff