Aaron Elson went to a reunion of the 712th Tank Battalion, with which his father served, in 1987. Two years later, he went to another reunion with a tape recorder. He's been preserving veterans' stories ever since.
One of my New Year's Resolutions is to advance my transcription and preservation of the diary of the Rev. Edmund Randolph Laine, pastor of St. Paul's Episcopal Church in Stockbridge, Mass., during the World War II years. Laine raised Ed Forrest, who was killed on April 3, 1945. Ed was a buddy of my father in combat, and in researching Ed's life back in 1995 I learned of the existence of Laine's diary, which the Stockbridge Library allowed me to photocopy.
As 2016 came to a close, I thought I might be able to find something appropriate in my archives, but a search of the phrase "new year" on my hard drive only brought up an excerpt from an interview with tank driver Tony D'Arpino, who described a furlough he received at Christmastime in 1943. When he left he was in the 11th Armored Regiment of the 10th Armored Division, and when he took a cab back to his barracks ten days later the sign out front said C Company, 712th Tank Battalion. Unbeknownst to him, the battalion had been taken out of the division and renamed as a separate, independent tank battalion. He was a bit confused, to say the least.
And then I remembered that a few years back I began scanning and transcribing some of the entries from Laine's diary, so I thought, I wonder what he said on various New Year's Days. I have not yet scanned the entry from Jan. 1, 1945. Ed was still alive and about to take part in the Battle of the Bulge. Following is a loose transcript of the entry for that date (you would understand why I say "loose" transcript if you could see Laine's handwriting).
Monday, Jan. 1, 1945: A very warm day
- 52 degrees at noon - raining hard - very dark. Up 9:20, shaved. Radio - music
(WQXR) & News). 10:25 - breakfast. Package from Springfield. 11 - Holy Com.
(17) - service men & women prayed for by name. 1:45 - helped Miss F. put guest
room in order. Put Christmas tree & Christmas picture away. Wrote V-mail
letter to E. (No. 981). 2 - Mr. Kingdon called - father died. 2:10 - to P.O.
Read "Times." Read "Times." 3 - had tomato soup, turkey
sandwiches & peaches. 3:30 - "Pepper Young's Family." Raining
very hard. Rec'd END. Read in "Yankee Lawyer." ("Ephraim
Tutt") Dozed in chair. Read "Eagle." Read in "Yankee
Lawyer." 6 - News - Quincy Howe & Bill Costello. Storming hard. Read
in "Yankee Lawyer." Radio music. Snowing. 10 - News - Henry Gladstone.
Had hot milk, toast & baked apple. 11 - News - John Daly & William L.
Shirer.
Like many of the entries in the diary, this excerpt is full of little historical treasures. Take the line, "Read in "Yankee Lawyer" ("Ephraim Tutt."). I admit I had never heard of Ephraim Tutt, so I asked my friend Mr. Google. Who knew that only a few years ago a book would have been written about Ephraim Tutt.
Ed Forrest was killed at Heimboldshausen, Germany, on April 3, 1945. It was curiosity about what Laine wrote in the entry for that day that inspired me to begin reading his journal. I have scanned that entry. Note the thick black cross at the beginning and what appears to be an underlined footnote at the end saying "Eddie killed this day in Germany at about 12 p.m. our time." With the time difference of about six hours, it was just about dusk in Germany when a German ME-109 fighter plane attacked some railroad cars, two of which were empty but fume filled gasoline tankers, setting off a huge explosion just as Ed, his company's executive officer, was setting up his headquarters in the basement of a nearby house.
The reason his death is recorded in the diary as a footnote is because it would be 13 days before Rev. Laine learned of Ed's death, and the entry was already pretty full, not to mention that with several lines for each of five years on a page beginning in 1941, the entry for 1945 was already at the bottom of the page.
Well, it's almost midnight. I have to make some phone calls and start wishing close friends and relatives a Happy New Year. So I'll close by saying "Happy New Year" to all my Oral History Audiobooks aficionados and thank you for your interest in these remarkable bits of history.
Recently, I was interviewed on the radio on WNPR. The producer asked me to send some audio clips to give an idea of some of the interviews I've done. I put together a set of ten clips, although only four were used on the air due to my propensity to talk a little more than I should (it was an interview, after all).
However, although it was difficult to choose a set of ten relatively brief clips, the ones I selected, and many that I didn't, reminded me just how powerful these voices, and the stories they tell, are. As I listened to them, I thought I could just as easily be listening to the MOTH Radio Hour, a popular storytelling program that has recognized and promoted the entertainment value of storytelling, sharing the stories not only of comedians and entertainers, but of ordinary people as well.
Following are the ten audio clips I sent the radio station, with a little commentary on each (note: because these were recorded at different volume levels, you may have to adjust the volume up or down on some of the clips):
1) Karnig, who lives in River Edge, N.J.,
was a prisoner of war of the Japanese after bailing out of a B-29 that
exploded. In this short excerpt, in which he describes the plane carrying him
home, he shifts from tears to laughter in a matter of moments. (Karnig's full interview is included in the collection titled "POW! Right in the Keister" in my eBay store.)
2) Dan Diel. Dan was a lieutenant in my father's tank
battalion. The war made philosophers of some of its veterans. In this
excerpt
he describes a sentiment that was almost universal among combat
veterans: fatalism,
aka if a bullet has your name on it, there's nothing you can do. (Every
time I cross the street, I'm thankful my father didn't name me
Peterbilt). (Dan's full interview is included in "The Tanker Tapes" in my eBay store.)
3 Ed Boccafogli. Ed was a paratrooper in the 82nd Airborne
Division. In this excerpt, he describes the moment he was wounded at
Baupte, France. One aspect of many of the interviews I've done is
the veteran's recreation of sound effects. This always blows me away
when I'm
listening to it. (Ed's full interview is included in "The D-Day Tapes" in my eBay store but can also be downloaded for free from the home page of tankbooks.com
4) Sam Cropanese. Ditto the above. Brace yourself for Sam's
description of a shell hitting a tank. Sam was a Pfc. in my dad's tank
battalion. (Sam's interview is included in "The Tanker Tapes")
5) George Bussell. George was a tank driver. This excerpt
shows the lighter side of the war, in which he describes going to Paris on a
three-day pass with five hundred dollars and returns with 75 cents. Maybe I
shouldn't have, but for the radio I edited out his descriptions of Piccadilly
and Pigalle. (George Bussell's interview is included in both "The Tanker Tapes" and "The Men Who Drove the Tanks," both of which are available in my eBay store.)
6) John Sweren. John was a prisoner of war who endured the
grueling 700 mile march across Germany near the end of the war in Europe so
that the prisoners could be surrendered to the Americans and not the Russians,
who would have executed all the guards. Get out a handkerchief for this one. (John's interview is included in "March Madness" in my eBay store. A transcript of the interview is available from Amazon.com in the book "Merry Christmas in July.")
7) Arnold Brown. I need to re-edit the original on this now
that I know a little about noise reduction; this was one of my first and
favorite interviews but I rarely promote it until it's re-done. This is a very
short excerpt but is pretty powerful in its statement. (This interview will be available on audio cd soon. A transcript of Arnold's interview is in my book 9 Lives)
8) Kay Hutchins. I realized I ought to include at least one
of the women I've interviewed. Most of them were widows or siblings of men who
were killed, and as such would be more appropriate for Memorial Day. Kay's
brother Newell was killed but he and another brother were both missing in
action, so Kay joined the Red Cross, hoping she would be in England and closer
to them when they were liberated. Incidentally, her maiden name was Brainard
and she was originally from Hartford but her family moved to Florida when she
was young. (Kay Hutchins' interview is included in "The Kassel Cassettes" and is also included in my book 9 Lives)
9) Pfc. Patsy J. Giacchi. This excerpt is a bit long, I
whittled it down to about five minutes. It's one of my most popular tracks and
for good reason. Patsy was a survivor of Exercise Tiger, a pre-D-Day landing
exercise in which two fully loaded landing ships were torpedoed and sunk. Patsy
was a little excitable, and his entire tape sounds like the actor Joe Pesci on
steroids. (Patsy Giacchi's audio CD is included in "The D-Day Tapes" and his story is included in 9 Lives)
10) Dale Albee. Many veterans went into schools to talk to
students. Dale was a sergeant in the horse cavalry who was promoted to
lieutenant on the battlefield with my father's tank battalion. (Dale's interview is included in "The Tanker Tapes.)
My nephew, Jordan Freeman, is the co-director of the critically acclaimed documentary "Blood on the Mountain." I'm looking forward to seeing it when it comes to the area. Roger Ebert.com gave it four stars and it has an 86 percent rating at Rotten Tomatoes (that's a good thing).
This got me to thinking, heck, I wouldn't be much of a World War II oral historian if I hadn't interviewed some veterans who grew up in coal country, which, along with Midwestern farmboys, produced some of the best soldiers in World War II.
Cleo "Deadeye" Coleman, a descendent of the Hatfields of Hatfields-and-McCoys notoriety, was one of them. Myron Kiballa, whose brother Jerry was killed on Hill 122, was another. But the best description of coal country came in an impromptu interview with Eleanor Mazure, whose late husband, Frank, was a mechanic in Service Company of the 712th Tank Battalion. Forrest Dixon, the maintenance officer, described Frank Mazure as "the best thief I had," quickly adding that he didn't mean that in a pejorative sense. Rather Frank was able to steal or trade for extra spark plugs because the battalion was assigned only a limited supply. The tankers weren't supposed to idle their engines because it would foul the spark plugs, but try telling that to a crew on the front lines that might have to move on a moment's notice, or was trying to keep warm on a cold night. Thanks to Frank's ingenuity, the mechanics were able to pull the fouled spark plugs, replace them, and clean the plugs they removed. That might have gotten some men killed, Forrest said, because if their tank wouldn't run, they couldn't go into action, but it also might have saved a lot of lives.
Frank survived the war but passed away before I began recording stories of the veterans of the 712th. His widow, Eleanor, sat in on an interview I was doing with Ed Stuever, who was a maintenance sergeant in the 712th and had worked closely with her husband.
But I digress. It was Eleanor's description of life in coal country I wanted to share, so here's a transcript of that interview.
Eleanor Mazure
Interview
with Eleanor Mazure
Widow
of Sgt. Frank Mazure
Service
Company, 712th Tank Battalion
Pittsburgh,
Sept. 1996
Aaron Elson: How did you and
Frank meet?
Eleanor Mazure: We lived in
the same town, a small coal-mining town in Ohio, on the same street. There were
eight or ten houses on each side of the street, and he lived down at one end
and I lived at the other end.
Aaron Elson: How old were
you?
Eleanor Mazure: I went with
him for five years before we got married, so I was 16.
Aaron Elson: Was your father
a coal miner?
Eleanor Mazure: Yes.
Aaron Elson: So you must
have had a big family.
Eleanor Mazure: I was one of
seven children, and Frank was one of 13. But a lot of them didn=t survive until they were adults.
Aaron Elson: That must have
been a tough life.
Eleanor Mazure: Very, very
tough.
Aaron Elson: Was there a lot
of drinking?
Eleanor Mazure: Well, that
was about the only recreation that the miners had. Once they came home from
work on weekends, there wasn=t
much to do in a small coal-mining town in those days.
Aaron Elson: Where in Ohio
was it?
Eleanor Mazure: It was in a
place called Piney Fork, Ohio, and Piney Fork is about 20 miles south of
Steubenville.
Aaron Elson: Was Frank older
than you or the same age?
Eleanor Mazure: He was five
years older than me.
Aaron Elson: Did he work
before he went into the Army?
Eleanor Mazure: He worked on
what they called the tipple. The tipple=s
on the outside of the coal mine. He didn=t
want to go underground, so he worked on the tipple where the coal came out and
it was dumped into. He worked there a short period of time.
Aaron Elson: Why do you
think he didn=t want to
go underground? Was he claustrophobic?
Eleanor Mazure: I don=t think there was any particular
reason. I just think he probably foresaw that there wasn=t
any future there. And he and another fellow told us for a long, long time that
they were going to go into the Army, and nobody believed them. So he and
another fellow went down to the recruiting place and signed up.
Aaron Elson: What year was
that?
Eleanor Mazure: He went in
in 1939.
Aaron Elson: Why do you
think nobody believed him when he said he was going to go into the Army?
Eleanor Mazure: Because in a
coal-mining town in those days there wasn=t
any future. If you started to be a coal miner, that=s
who you would end up.
Aaron Elson: Did he and his
friend go into the same outfit?
Eleanor Mazure: No. Frank
went directly to Fort Knox. And from Fort Knox, I don=t
recall if it was in the first or second year, but he was sent to Y wait a minute, first they were in
cavalry. Because they wore those pants, you know, the jodhpurs, I think they=re called. But then later on he changed
to armor. He was sent to Aberdeen, Maryland, to ordnance school, and that=s where he learned how to be a mechanic
on the tanks, and then from there he graduated. Okay, we were supposed to get
married on the post but they only got three days=
leave in between Aberdeen and Pine Camp, New York, so we just got married in
Steubenville, and we went up to Pine Camp on the bus. We got married November
the 3rd, 1941, one month before Pearl Harbor.
Aaron Elson: How much did
Frank make? Was he a sergeant yet?
Eleanor Mazure: Well, he
went in as a private, and each step B
he didn't skip any, and he wasn't elevated on his merits, there had to be
openings B
plusI encouraged him. I always said, AYou can do better.@ So he ended up being a master sergeant
in Service Company. A month after we were married, the war started, and that
changed everything. In the beginning, he was making $21 a month, for a long,
long time. I don't recall how much more he made when he was a Pfc, but he was
already a master sergeant when he went overseas.
They wanted him to go to officers
candidate school, but he didn't want to get out of his unit. He enjoyed his men
immensely. When he came home B
this doesn't have anything to do with this period, but when he came home from
service, I don't know if he was shellshocked or what, but he used to get up in
the middle of the night and start packing his barracks bag and crying, AI=m
going back to my men. I=m
going back to my men.@
He cared so much about the men.
Aaron Elson: How did Frank
propose to you?
Eleanor Mazure: When he went
into the service, he said, AWhen
I get through with all my schooling and everything, I=m
going to send for you.@
So we got engaged through the mail. And he sent me my ring through the mail.
After he got out of school, he came home and got me and we got married in
Steubenville, and then we just got on the bus and went to Pine Camp.
We got there too late to find
accommodations on the post and we didn=t
have a car. We found a place in a small town about three miles from the post, I
don=t remember the name of the town, and
Frank walked up there every day. I got privileges to go on the post and shop.
We lived with some real nice
people. They made accommodations for us upstairs in their home, and it was
really great.
One thing I did, I felt sorry for
all these fellows because I knew eventually they were going to go overseas, so
every Sunday Frank invited at least three fellows over for Sunday dinner. In
the afternoon I would cook something that he really liked. I cooked cabbage
rolls, spaghetti. I just felt that was my little contribution toward making
Frank happy before they went overseas.
When we left Pine Camp, we went to
Fort Knox. And then from Fort Knox, we were transferred down to Camp Gordon,
Georgia, and then to Fort Benning. And from Fort Benning they were transferred
to Fort Jackson, and that was where they left from.
Aaron Elson: What was your
maiden name?
Eleanor Mazure: My maiden
name was Berdjar.
Aaron Elson: Is that Polish?
Eleanor Mazure: Slovak.
Aaron Elson: And Frank was
what?
Eleanor Mazure: One of his
parents was Polish and one was Hungarian.
Aaron Elson: How many
generations back did your family go in the States?
Eleanor Mazure: My father
came over from Czechoslovakia when he was seven years old, and my grandparents
on both sides came from Czechoslovakia. My mother was born in Johnstown, Pennsylvania.
But all of my grandparents, when they came from Europe, we don=t know that history, but they all came
to Pennsylvania and maybe were coal miners for a short period of time, and then
they transferred to Piney Fork, where we all lived. That was the Hannah coal
mining area that, everybody knows it, it was a real big operation at the time.
They=re no
longer in operation.
Aaron Elson: Were there
strikes?
Eleanor Mazure: Yes.
Aaron Elson: And accidents?
Eleanor Mazure: Yes. When
there was an accident, they would ring this loud whistle. The whole town heard
it, and then we knew that there was a tragedy. The men used to go in on cars.
They=d sit in
these cars, they were open cars, and it would take them into the mine and then
bring them out at night. It=s
hard to imagine, but the coal miners never saw daylight for many months out of
the year, because they would go in in the morning when it was dark, and when
they came out at night it was dark. And, this is funny but the miners always
had different omens. If sometimes they would see rats in the mine, and the rats
would start running, then they knew there was going to be a cave-in. And there
were several other things that they knew, and then they would clear the area.
In the beginning, miners were very
low-paid, but later on B
a lot of people didn=t
like John L. Lewis but it was because of him that the miners gained some benefits,
so we have to thank him. But Frank didn=t
even have, he didn't have a high school education, because in those days, the
high school was seven miles away and you didn=t
have the money to pay the bus fare to get to, you know, so he only went through
eighth grade but he did work his way up, I have to say that. Nothing was given
to him. He worked. I even asked Dixon at the last reunion, I said, AHow did you ever choose Frank to be
your motor sergeant?@
And he said, ADo you think I=d
pick somebody that didn=t
know anything? I picked the best.@
Aaron Elson: How did you
feel when you knew he was going to go overseas?
Eleanor Mazure: Well
naturally, we all felt very badly. We took it kind of hard.
Aaron Elson: Were there
other wives in the same...
Eleanor Mazure: Yes, I came
home, we departed, we stayed there as long as we could in Fort Jackson, we
stayed there until the last minute, in fact the last, they didn=t know exactly which day they were
gonna leave, so this one particular night it was raining as hard as it could
rain, so a couple of us went over near that area and the fellows somehow, I don=t know if they came over by the fence
or what, I don=t recall,
but they snuck out to see us for a little bit, and that was the last time we
saw them. So I came home on the train with Fernandez=s
wife and Mrs. Greeley, West Virginia there. And that was it. But naturally we
felt badly, and the thing of it is, we had been there nearly like, let=s see, like three years, and I was
pregnant, I was gonna have a baby when he went over, so naturally, you know,
that was... So anyway, my first son, his name is also Frank, and he was born
while they were in the thick of the fighting.
Aaron Elson: So you were
pregnant when he went overseas?
Eleanor Mazure: Yeah, see,
because we didn=t know
they were gonna go. So ...
Aaron Elson: Is he still
alive?
Eleanor Mazure: My son?
Aaron Elson: Yes.
Eleanor Mazure: Oh yes.
Aaron Elson: Because I=ve only met Clark.
Eleanor Mazure: Well, this
other son, he lives about, oh, 35 or 40 miles from me, he=s also a Vietnam vet. But Clark=s the one that=s
interested in the history.
Aaron Elson: Okay, so you
were pregnant with Frank Junior.
Eleanor Mazure: And then
they went overseas, yes. And he was born on July the 9th, and they
were in the thick of battle, because they had, I=ve
forgotten the name of it but they had some way that you could send a telegram
to the fellows to let them know. So I was in hospital, I remember when I woke
up I kept saying, ADid you
let him know? Did you let him know? Did you let him know?@ But he didn=t
get the message for three weeks, because they didn=t
know where they were. So, he said all his friends were congratulating him, AI didn=t
know what they were congratulating me for because I hadn=t
seen it.@ And so
Frank was a year old the week that he came home.
Aaron Elson: Who named him?
Did you decide in advance?
Eleanor Mazure: Well, I
guess we sort of decided together. I could tell you something about that name.
We named him Frank Fillmore, for the middle name, and Fillmore was one of Frank=s good buddies. I never got to meet the
man because he never came to any reunions, but he thought so much of the man he
said, AWe have
to name our son Fillmore,@
so that was his middle name, but I never got to tell that man, they tell me he=s sick, I don=t
know.
Aaron Elson: That would be
Fillmore Enger.
Eleanor Mazure: Yes.
Aaron Elson: I=ve never met him.
Eleanor Mazure: I don=t know, what else can I tell you?
Aaron Elson: While he was
overseas, did you have contact with his mother?
Eleanor Mazure: Oh, his
parents were already passed away.
Aaron Elson: Really?
Eleanor Mazure: M-hm.
Aaron Elson: Both of them?
Eleanor Mazure: M-hm.
Aaron Elson: So I guess his
father died young...
Eleanor Mazure: No, his mom
died, she was kind of young, she had severe heart problems. His dad was older,
but they weren=t that
young. They were older.
Aaron Elson: So both his parents
had died. It must have been pretty nervewracking for you with him overseas. It
must have also been very tough. How did you support yourself, and survive? Did
he send money home?
Eleanor Mazure: Yes, in
those days, though, you know the pay was so low, well, I came back to Cleveland
and I found a little two-room, through one of my relatives I found a little
two-room efficiency, and I survived. I managed. You manage. You did without.
You were used to doing without if you were a coal miner=s
family, you know, you did with what you had and you made the best of it.
Aaron Elson: Now what was
that about a three-cent loaf of bread?
Eleanor Mazure: Oh, up in
Pine Camp they had a commissary, you know, it was the men could do some of
their shopping there, so I got a little ID, it=s
a metal pin with your picture on it, and I would go up there, I would walk up,
and they=d let you
in once they saw your ID, and the bread was three cents a loaf. And I don=t remember too much about the other
prices but they weren=t
much. But you know, how much could you carry? How much could you carry home? I
really, Frank loved the Army, and I loved it too. I love traveling around.
Aaron Elson: What was that
about the smoky trains?
Eleanor Mazure: Oh, you
asked me how we got down to the different camps. Well, during the war,
everything was used up for the war effort, so in my train to Louisville
train it was so smoky and so dirty and so puffy, that when we got down there we
were loaded with soot. But that=s
the way we had to travel.
Aaron Elson: Now Frank
Junior, he went to Vietnam?
Eleanor Mazure: It was
almost like a repeat. Yeah, he was in the Reserves, okay, for like six or seven
years, and his unit from Cleveland was the 233rd Quartermaster
Corps, and there were about 230 fellows who were called up, and he was one of
them. So in his case also, he had been married I don=t
know, a year or two, and when he went overseas, his wife was pregnant. Not
expecting to go. So his little girl was a year old when he came home. It was
unreal.
Aaron Elson: Now you don=t talk about him much.
Eleanor Mazure: Well, I didn=t realize I could contribute something,
because Clark is the one that=s
into the history.
Aaron Elson: Was Frank
Junior, did he come home, was he affected by being over there?
Eleanor Mazure: Well, he=s okay, I mean, you know, he came home
alone.
Aaron Elson: Alone?
Eleanor Mazure: Sure. They
came home one by one. There wasn=t
anybody to greet them like there was the other fellows. But he was all right. I
think he=s a
nervous person, but other than that, he didn=t
use Vietnam as a crutch, like some fellows do, he just said, well, you have to
go on with your life, pick up the pieces and do the best you can do. So I don=t really mention him because I don=t ...
Aaron Elson: And when was
Clark born?
Eleanor Mazure: He=s six years younger than Frank, so he
was born in 1951.
Aaron Elson: Frank Senior,
he really loved the Army?
Eleanor Mazure: Oh, he loved
the Army, yeah. He would have stayed in, but he wanted to come home and see his
child. And then they were going to send them over to the Pacific, and I think
the fellows thought they had enough, being on the one front. But I have to say
that he was very happy when he was in the service, and if he could have stayed
in he would have been the happiest man on this earth because he just loved it so
much, I can=t stress
that enough.
Aaron Elson: How did he pass
away?
Eleanor Mazure: Oh, he had a
lot of things wrong with him. He was in the VA Hospital for a long, long time.
He had hurt his foot in one of the tanks once, his knee, and he never put in a
claim for it. So periodically, his knee would give out and I thought he was
faking. But he ended up, he had a brace on his knee, and I think he had a
stroke, and he had all kinds of things wrong with him, so then, you know, it
just took its toll on him, and that was it. He had numerous things wrong with
him, so they just all, you know how they take their toll and add up, and he
just, one morning, he just keeled over, he was sitting in a restaurant, and he
just keeled over.
Aaron Elson: How old was he?
Eleanor Mazure: He was in
his, you know I get a little confused on all these people that died because my
little granddaughter died when she was 2, Clark=s
little girl died when she was two years old. And Mom died and Frank died, they
all sort of died real close together, I=m
getting the dates mixed up, not because I=m
forgetting but it=s just
such a ...
Aaron Elson: But what year
was that, then...Clark=s
little girl died or Frank=s
little girl?
Eleanor Mazure: Clark=s. Clark=s
little girl died when she was 2. She was born with a congenital heart defect,
and she had a couple of heart operations, and she survived the one when she was
five months old and later on another one, but when she was two then, she had
another one, and she didn=t
survive that one. She was in RB and C in Cleveland, which is a special children=s hospital, but she didn=t make it, so that=s been one heartache, you know, he=s carried, but he has three other
children.
Aaron Elson: Would Frank come
to the reunions?
Eleanor Mazure: No, he never
came. He just, I can=t
tell you, I don=t know.
It=s just Clark that got interested in
history, and that=s it. He
just sticks with it.
Aaron Elson: About what year
was it, it was the year after he passed away that you first came?
Eleanor Mazure: The first
year I came was Rockford. But Clark came a year previous to that, which was a
small reunion, I think the Service Company had it, it was in Detroit, Dearborn
or Detroit, and the reason we found out about it was, Clark was always
connecting himself with his veterans at his work, he worked for Caterpiller,
and the one man was a World War II veteran, so Clark would every opportunity he
would get he would talk to, so one day this man gave him one of the magazines,
I don=t know if
it was VFW or American Legion, and the 712th was listed in there
that they were gonna have a reunion, so that was this little mini-reunion up in
Michigan. So he went to that, and then the next year was Rockford, and he said,
AMa, you have to come to that.@
And I said, AWell,
you know, I don=t know if
I=m going to know anybody there anymore.@
He said, AWell,
you=re gonna come anyway.@
And he had been corresponding with
Ray Griffin also, putting the pieces together, so I went, and I=ve been coming ever since. Because I
remembered a lot of the people there.
Aaron Elson: And you save up
all year for this trip?
Eleanor Mazure: Well, you
know, you manage, this is my highlight of the year. I don=t go on other vacations anymore. I used
to, you know, when our kids were small, we used to go, but this is my highlight
of the year.
Aaron Elson: And where do
you live now?
Eleanor Mazure: I live in,
well, it=s like a
suburb of Cleveland, Aurora, Ohio, which is
where Sea World of Ohio is, and I have three brothers and they=re all single, none of them got
married, so they bought a home and made a home for my parents. And then I moved
out that way and I lived out of Cleveland for about, oh, I don=t know, ten or more years maybe, and
then I moved back in, because I was driving to work from 40 miles a day one
way. But you have to drive where your work is. You can=t
always live on top of your work.
Aaron Elson: And what kind
of work did you do?
Eleanor Mazure: I worked in
a hospital for 28 years. I did various things, I worked in admitting, I have a
lot of volunteer hours in, because I like people, I like helping people, that=s part of my makeup. And then I ended
up, and I was a cashier, but I ended up being a claims person, claims processor
they called it, and I=ve
been doing all of the insurances but plus, I=m
an expert Medicare biller, because I started to do Medicare, which I didn=t want to take but the boss said, AEleanor, you have to try it for two
weeks,@ nobody
else wanted the job. So they put me in it, and said ATwo
weeks,@ and it
ended up being like 18 years or something.
Aaron Elson: So that must
have been when Medicare was first ...
Eleanor Mazure: The first
day it was initiated they put me on it, and there wasn=t
anyone at all to teach us, we had nothing, we had nothing. No one knew anything
about it, the government just initiated it, and you had to pick it up on your
own. And I did. And I didn=t
mind it, I loved it, because basically I=m
a hard worker.
End
of side 1
Side
2
Ed
Stuever: On Tennessee Maneuvers, when
my son was born, they were looking for me for two weeks at least. You know, Jen
would almost write to me every day, and then when there was mail, the guy that
called off the mail, he'd hand a letter to this guy and then he'd hand one to
that guy, then Jen always had her lipstick on the back end, and everybody would
take a kiss on it before I got it.
I'd always have Jen send me
the hard salami, and I'd take a real sharp knife and I'd cut it in real thin pieces
so everybody'd get some.
Eleanor
Mazure: I used to send that. I'd seal
it in paraffin, and then I would put it in some kind of a container that didn't
break, like maybe a coffee can. And it never spoiled, but it took many, many
weeks.
Aaron Elson: Did you save your letters?
Ed
Stuever: I've got a box full in my
attic.
Eleanor
Mazure: I don't have any because I had
a robbery in my house. I had a whole footlocker full, I saved every solitary
one. Do you have a copy of that Christmas card that you fellows sent us from
overseas, and it said "When the lights go on again all over the world."
And it had two plugs, electric plugs, and they were ready to go together. It
had different significant meanings to it.
Ed
Stuever: What they meant was peace.
Lights go on again all over the world was a famous song in those days. And
don't sit under the apple tree with anyone else but me. In Normandy we had
nothing but apple trees. There was a lot of heartbreaking songs in those days.
Ed
Stuever: the knob on top came loose, and I soddered that back on there, and I
made a crystal out of celluloid cover, and it went through Tennessee maneuvers,
and all through the war, and every night the guys would use it on guard duty.
Whenever there was a flash of gun. And I'd never see that watch for weeks. And
finally when the battalion got together, or our company got together, we're
sitting under an apple tree, and finally it dawned on me. "Is my watch
still around?"
"What do you mean your
watch?" I was offered twenty dollars for it. What do you want to pay me
twenty dollars for, I only paid a dollar for it. Oh, it's history. So I've
still got it. It'll run for a little bit, but the springs all...
