My Olive Drab Handkerchief

GI's during WWII were issued this olive drab handkerchif as part of their uniform. I have one that belong to my uncle Enoch who served in the European theater. I have several things he chose to give to this person, his then 8 or 9 year old nephew.

He came home from England with a Welch war bride, my aunt Mary who I soon grew to adore. He and his wife lived with my mom and dad for a few months after the war when he was finishing his last year at the University of Alabama getting his pre-law degree. I was fortunate enough to hear his stories of this terrible war and his time in a POW camp while being held by the Germans. The stories of his friends he fought with and some paid the ultimate price for our freedom we enjoy.

He shared stories and gave me this handkerchief, one set of captains bars, the crossed rifles of the infantry and the US insignia that adorned the collar of his uniform. I have pictures of him and his buddies during the war that he mailed to my mom, his sister, to let us know he was OK. Oh yes, a compass, made by Wittnaur watch company.

One terrible morning during the war, the war department sent a telegram to my mother telling of my uncle 'missing in action'. I remember riding in the back seat of daddy's 40 Dodge and mom and dad telling his mom and dad of this bad news. This is engraved into my memory like no experience I can remember.

Weeks and months went by and we got no news from the war department as to whether he was living or dead! It was a terrible time. One day, another telegram, and Germany and American had exchanged prisioner information and there was my uncle Enoch, a POW in Germany. I remember tears and laughter mixed over this change of events as he was in harms way but he was alive! The olive drab handkerchief in my dresser drawer remind me daily of some of these terrible times.

We were in constant contact with the Red Cross and soon had information of POW packages we could send that hopefully would reach our loved one. The list had items like hard candy, cigarettes, chewing gum, bandaids, bottles of iodine, tape, bars of soap, and a short note on the lightest of paper that looked like onion skin. We were given his camp number OFLAG 96 and addressed it to his name and rank as directed. That with the single sheet note was all we could send only hoping he would get it.

We learned after the war he got one of these packages. The German's opened the POW packages and any with cigarettes never made it to our held GI's. Some GI may have gotten one or more of the packages my dad disguised. He bought a box of Bell Camp candies made in Birmingham. When he went to the Bell Camp shop on 19th Street, he ask if they would let him hide some cigarettes in the box. They gave dad a box, and he took the top layer out, removed the bottom layer and replaced that layer with about 6 packs of Camels. He replaced the top layer and Bell Camp resealed the box with the cellophane. He hoped Enoch or some American GI just might get this one that had the cigarettes...I learned from Enoch after the war, someone did!

War is Hell! There is no getting around this terrible fact of life. When man does inhuman things against his fellow man, we have a history of stepping into the gap to try to free men who have lost that freedom. The graves of our loved ones lie silent as testimony to this all over the world. Some graves are unmarked and our monument , "Tomb of the Unknown Soldier" is at Arlington in Washington, DC to testify to this.

Cindy Sheehan troubles this writer who had a dad who served in WWI, 3 uncles in WWII, 2 uncles in the Korean War and 2 in Vietnam. All served with honor, and God in his infinite wisdom and grace let all of them come home. Ms Sheehan, I grant you the right of disagree with our President and with this terrible conflict we are currently fighting in Iraq and in Afganistan. But Al Jerizza and Al Quada do us less harm than what you are doing to our wonderful service men and women right now. Money could not buy the air time the broadcast and cable networks have afforded you in your right to free speech.

Do you realize you are dishonoring our fallen, and your son Casey is one of them. Look into your heart and see your son there and ask him if he wants you to do this. Casey may still have buddies fighting right now and ask yourself how they feel about your statements that only encourage the insurgents. When you give help and comfort and assistant to our enemies during wartime, this could be described as treason. I wish there was a kinder word to use, but "Treason" is the only word that fits your actions right now.

This is written by someone whose dad and uncles were all 'volunteers' during world wars and conflicts. They were not drafted, but chose to serve as did I. You do me and my family a terrible injustice but I refuse to let you hurt the memory of the fallen who paid the ultimate price for your freedom to do as you are doing right now. I can only wish you would not help our enemy!