End of the War

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“Once the bombs were dropped, we were completely out of the loop. Probably, the folks back home were the first ones to hear about it. People asked how I felt, but there wasn't any big celebration among us. Maybe it's because we'd been through a tough year and were pretty hardened by then. Regardless, we were just glad the war was over and it was time to go home.

Our crew disbanded, and while I was friendly with guys from other crews too, it was time for me to head home. However, that wasn't the case. Apparently, the less experienced gunners went home before me. I soon found out why. An officer called me in and explained they desperately needed radio operators. As I mentioned before, radio operator training was the longest part of my crew member experience. They needed operators to start a new bomb group on Guam and offered to make me a master sergeant if I signed up for three more years.

I refused. I'd had enough and just wanted to go home. They still held me back, hoping I'd change my mind, but I didn't. Finally, about this new bomb group on Guam – there were some volunteers, but I believe most of the crew came directly from the States. Frankly, I doubt anyone who'd just been through a year of war was eager to jump right back into another operation. This was 1946, and looking back, it seems clear they were preparing for the Korean War – B-29s stationed in the Philippines made perfect sense for easy access to both Japan and Korea.

Finally, it was my time to return. I got a notification to pack everything except my .45 caliber pistol, which I had to surrender. Everything else, though, I was told to take. Tinian has a small harbor, so a group of us went there to catch a ship to the States. The Tinian harbor couldn't handle any large ships, so we boarded an LCI, a landing craft infantry – the kind where infantry would stand on deck, and then the front would drop down like a ramp when they reached the shore. It was only a short ride, maybe 20 miles or so, to Saipan, but it took about a half hour. Some guys even got seasick on that short trip.

We stayed in Saipan for a few days before boarding our actual transport ship, a Victory Ship they called it. It had a sharp nose, unlike the blunt-nosed freighters, and was a fast vessel named the Marine Dragon. We took the LCI out again to reach the ship and boarded. It had been converted into a troop carrier with bunks stacked three high. The ship left Saipan for the States, and it wasn't just a pleasure cruise. Everyone had to do some kind of work onboard.

After a day or two, a roster came out with my name on it. I had to report for kitchen duty with the mess sergeant the next day. So, I went with a bunch of other guys, and the mess sergeant looked at me, surprised. 'You were a B-29 crewman?' he asked. I said yes, and he told me I wouldn't be doing any work on the ship. Instead, he sent me back to my bunk with whole cans of food – stuff we hadn't seen in a year, you know, good things like chili, vegetables, fruits, everything. When I got back and the others returned for the day, I shared all this food with everyone. Everyone was starving. That's just how it was.

The trip from Saipan to Oakland took 14 days. I distinctly remember everyone yelling and screaming like crazy when we passed under the Golden Gate Bridge. As we approached Oakland, there was a band playing music. We were given physicals, new uniforms, and our separation designations. That's when I sent a telegram to Marie. During the physicals, they took blood samples. Mine was a really dark red, and I looked at it next to the others, which were actually blood-colored. I wondered what was wrong, of course, but it didn't mean anything in the end. From Oakland, I took a train to Atterbury, Illinois, where I was finally separated from service. And I was still allowed to keep everything I had brought with me, so I took it all home."