I was only eleven years old when the events took place that sent me eight years later on the scariest time of my life.

On December 7th, 1941 the Empire of Japan attacked the United States of America and propelled us into World War Two. Six days later my father enlisted in the United States Army and he served out the war as a member of the 82nd Airborne.

When he got home from the wars he was reluctant to talk about his experiences, but as a young guy I wanted to know all about his exciting adventures and eventually I got him to talk and I found what he had to say fascinating. The more I heard the more I wondered if I had what it took to do what he had done.

Did I have the nerve to “Stand up, hook up, sound off for equipment check” and then shuffle up to the open door and then push myself out into the open sky?

When I graduated high school college was not in my future. Even though I’d done well in school and my grades were better than good I didn’t like sitting in class and my last two years of high school were a pain.

In the back of my mind the question of “Could I do what my father did” lurked and when I left school it came roaring to the front of my mind and I joined the Army and went Airborne. As a result I found myself at Camp Chickamauga in Beppo, Japan as a member of the 187th Airborne Infantry Regiment.

A couple of days after I arrived I met Harry Short and while talking I found out he was from Ann Arbor, Michigan and I told him we were neighbors in that I was from Ypsilanti which was only twenty-eight miles away. Then he told me his wife was from Ypsi and maybe I might know her. He told me her name and I said it sounded familiar. He showed me her picture and it turned out I did recognize her. Carol Meis had been two classes in front of me at Ypsilanti High School. I’d never met her or spoken to her, but I knew who she was.

He told me they had gotten married on his last leave and he was looking forward to going home to her when his enlistment was up in nine months. Lucky guy I thought. Carol was one of those girls who you saw as you moved through life that you wished you could know. You know what I mean. Like seeing Rita Hayworth, Betty Grable or Paulette Goddard at the movies and wished you were with them.

On June 27th, 1950 North Korea invaded South Korea and President Truman decided to step in. The 187th was paired up with the 674th Field Artillery Battalion to form the 187th Airborne Regimental Combat Team and placed on a war footing.

On the 23rd of September we were moved to Kimpo airfield in Korea and on October 20th we made a successful parachute assault near the towns of Sunchon and Sukchow about thirty miles north of Pyongyang. The aim of the drop was to try and capture members of the North Korean government fleeing Pyongyang, but unfortunately we were not successful in that.

We saw heavy fighting over the next five months at Suan, Inye and Wonju and in February of 1951 we were pulled out of the line and sent to the rear to refit and rearm.

Harry was getting anxious. He only had a short time before his enlistment was up and he jokingly, at least I thought it was jokingly, asked me to accidentally shoot him in the fleshy part of his leg so he could be sent to the hospital and shipped home. Later I wished I’d done it.

We were brought up to strength and moved to K-2 airfield and placed on alert. On Good Friday, March 23rd we made a parachute assault on Musan-ni to cut off North Koreans who were retreating from the fighting around the Pusan Perimeter. The fighting was fierce and I’ll never forget the day. It was March26th. Harry took a round and as I screamed for a medic and tried to staunch the blood flow Harry gasped:

“Tell Carol I love her and my last thoughts were of her.”

And then he was gone.

I had no time to grieve. Artillery was falling on us and the enemy were fanatical in their attempts to get by us. My war ended two days later when I was hit in the left leg. I was moved to the 8067 MASH (Mobile Army Surgical Hospital) where I was told the bone damage was severe enough that my days as a combat soldier were over.

I was moved to the 8167th Army Hospital in Japan where what I was told at the 8067th was confirmed. I didn’t lose the leg, but I would walk with a limp for the rest of my life. The Army didn’t want a cripple as a clerk or even working in supply so I was given a medical discharge and sent home.

It was a sunny August afternoon when I knocked on the door of 411Campbell in Ypsilanti. I’d called ahead so I was expected, but I didn’t know what to expect when I got there.

The door opened and Carol Short said “Mr. Dalton. Please come in. The living room or coffee at the kitchen table?”

“Coffee sounds good.”

Coffee in front of us she said “Sorry for my appearance, but I wasn’t expecting company today.”

“Nothing wrong with your appearance Mrs. Short. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you looking bad.”

She cocked her head and gave me a quizzical look before saying “Should I know you?”

“Not really. You may have seen me around a time or two. I was two years behind you in school.”

“Then you must have known my cousin. Rachel Miller?”

“I dated her a couple of times.”

That broke the ice and we proceeded to talk about who we had known in school and what happened to them and where they were now. I found out that Rachel had married Billy Holbrook, another of my old classmates.

Then I led us into the purpose of my visit. I described meeting Harry and the friendship that developed. And then the hard part. Of how Harry had died and his last words to me. On hearing that she broke down and started sobbing. I moved my chair next to hers and then held her as best I could with us both sitting down side by side.

She finally stopped sobbing and apologized for breaking down in front of me.

“I thought I has put my grief behind me.”

Then she surprised me.

“Tell me more about never seeing me looking bad.”

In an effort to brighten her spirits I told her of the effect she had on me at the time. She surprised me when she said:

“So what you are saying is that you wouldn’t be ashamed of being seen in public with me on your arm?”

“Not at all.”

“Good. Then you can take me out to dinner tonight.”

I didn’t have any other plans for the day other than calling on Carol and I’ve already mentioned the effect she had on me in high school so I just asked:

“What time should I be back to pick you up?”

“No need for you to even leave. It’s already five. Give me twenty minutes to change and we can go.”

The daily paper was on the coffee table so I picked it up and started looking through it while I waited for Carol to get ready. I wasn’t really paying all that much attention to what I reading. Mostly I was wondering why Carol had done what she did. We didn’t know each other. Our only connection was my knowing Harry and that we both went to the same high school together at the same time even though we were two years apart. But what the hey! I remembered how I wished it had been me she was holding hands with at the football games out on the island instead of the guy she was with.

All those thoughts were driven from my mind when Carol came back into the room. If she could make herself look that great in twenty minutes I wondered what she would look like if she took an hour to get ready.

“Ready” she asked me.

“I am” I said as I put the paper down.

In the car on the way to the restaurant Carol said “I guess you are wondering about this.”

“It has crossed my mind.”

“I needed to get out of the house. Except for work I’ve been pretty much a recluse since I got the word about Harry. I’ve been asked out at least a dozen times, but I’ve always said no. I knew what they wanted. I knew what they were thinking. Married woman used to getting it. Hasn’t gotten it for a while. Got to be craving it.”

“I’m sure you are wrong. Maybe one or two are assholes, but I’ll bet a lot of them just wanted to get to know you better. Granted, they would be hoping for a relationship that would lead to what the assholes were looking for, but those guys would be ring shopping in their minds.”

“Which one would you be?”

“I’m a ring shopper kind of guy.”

We made more small talk until we got to the restaurant and after we were seated and had ordered Carol asked me:

“What kind of girl would make you go looking for a ring?”

“Intelligent, fun loving, good looking and bat shit crazy over me.”

“Good looking covers a lot of ground. Blond? Brunette? Redhead? Short? Tall? Skinny or buxom? Can you describe her?”

I didn’t know why she was asking the questions, but I decided to have some fun with her.”

“Rather than wasting time going over it item by item I’ll take the easy way out. When you get home just look in the mirror.”

“Me?”

“Don’t act so surprised Mrs. Short.”

“I told you its Carol, okay?”

“Okay Carol; you must have figured out from my never having seen you looking bad comment that I must have liked what I saw. And the word “Never” had to have told you I looked at you a lot.”

“How did we get on this subject?”

Guessing I’d better change the subject I asked “How has the school football team done since I’ve been gone?”

“The Ypsi Braves? I have to confess I haven’t paid any attention to them since leaving school.”

Just then our food arrived and while we did talk during the meal it was mostly about the restaurant, the menu choices and the like.

On the drive taking her home she asked about what I was doing now that I discharged. I told her I’d gotten on at the Ford plant and was staying with my parents until I had saved up enough to get an apartment.

“And then what?”

“Find me someone who can put up with me. I’ve dated one or two since I’ve been back, but for some reason the limp puts them off. I get the impression they think it makes me less of a man.”

“That seems a bit narrow minded.”

“As I said, that’s the impression I get. Doesn’t mean that is what they are really thinking. Maybe it is that I can’t dance well enough for them. Doesn’t matter. It’s mine for life and I need to live with it.”

By then I had her home and when I walked her to the door she turned, kissed me on the cheek and said:

“I enjoyed it. Let’s do it again. Call me” and she walked into the house.

One more surprise on top of the other surprises of the day. The girl I’d lusted for during high school asking me to call her? I had a huge smile on my face as I walked back to my car.

I did call and we had dinner a couple of times and I always got a kiss on the cheek and a “Call me” at the end of the date. On our seventh date I received a kiss on the lips and two dates later we were making out in my car like a couple of teenagers.

I didn’t get a “Call me” at the end of our tenth date, but by then I really didn’t think I needed one. On a Thursday I called and asked what she would like to do Friday and she told me she would be busy so I asked how about Saturday and she told me she already had plans.

“Sunday?”

“I’m sorry Bob, but the truth is I just don’t want to see you anymore.”

“Oh. Well, okay. Goodbye.”

As I hung up I wondered what I’d done wrong. And then I wondered why was I assigning the blame to me? Tuesday we fogged up the windows of my car making out and two days later she doesn’t want to see me anymore? So it must have been something I’d done. Well, there wasn’t anything I could do about it so I just concentrated on the other things going on in my life.

I’d been living with my parents since coming home and I was saving the money I got working at the Ford plant and I finally had enough to get an apartment and move in. My entertainment for the most part was the movies. Between the Martha Washington and the Werth on Michigan Avenue I must have seen ten movies a week.

I saw Carol around, but I avoided her. I was dying to know what I’d done wrong, but there wasn’t any way I was going to go up to her and ask her.

I was out having lunch one Saturday when Harlina Collins sat down at the table across from me and said:

“Hello stranger. When did you get back?”

“About five months ago.”

“Where have you been hiding? Back five months and I haven’t seen you around?”

“Been staying with my parents and staying close to home saving up money so I can get an apartment. That and the fact that since I went from graduation to the Army I never learned anything about the local night life.”

“For a start, since you are a veteran, you can join the VFW and they have dances every Saturday night.”