American Legacies Organization, Inc.

People that live on a farm, or in rural areas, understand the fun of hunting in the great outdoors, once said to be the "Sport of kings," it's a sport that's hard to explain to a city dweller, they lack the ability to comprehend what the sound of a full throated "Bay" of a good Black and Tan coon dog sounds like. A hunter knows the sound of his dog's "Bay," even though that dog is miles away, it's like the drama and music of an opera, and that sound carries over hills and mountains as the hunter rushes to his dog's location.

n 1944, on Dalton's 19th birthday, he made a decision that would affect him for the rest of his life: he joined thousands of other young men and became a soldier to do his part for his country in the ongoing conflict, World War II. After he joined, he passed his physical examination at Fort McPherson, Georgia and on March 30 was officially inducted into the United States Army.

I was in Baltimore Maryland, and was working in the General office for the Baltimore Railroad. As I recall, it was a Sunday morning when I first got the news on the radio that there was an attack on Pearl Harbor. I chose my own way to get into the army, and I chose something to do to with transportation since I had a little experience with it.

I joined in late December 1942, and I got to Europe in early January 1943, from then on, I was apart of the transportation organization.

I spent the war in Antwerp shipping special supplies to places in Europe.

Mum lived with John, her eldest brother in Peebles, Scotland after her mother died, and when she was in her teens she went to work in the woolen mills in Galashiels.

It was hard being a weaver. There were huge looms and only gaslight to work by. She had to watch the shuttles flying to and fro, and pity on you if one broke or you got a knot. You had to watch them all the time. No wonder my mum's eyes were bad later in life!

Slowly a giggle rose up in the boy, giving way to outright gut bursting laughter. The two turkeys were still there, flapping their wings, screeching and flapping about wildly. The ricocheting slug had struck the branch on which they had been resting and the old hard hickory had split. In the instant the branch was burst open, the resting birds feet had fallen into the gap. Then the limb had snapped back together, trapping the now obviously distraught gobblers.

A "good woman" in the old days was easy to recognize. She never ate a bite until all her children had their fill and she insisted that she preferred a chicken thigh to a breast so her husband or little one's could have the white meat. She could make a biscuit that would melt in your mouth and would cook for thirty people at a moment's notice. She knew how to can beans, make jelly and pickles and her pies were talked about for miles.

A "good woman" had homemade clothes and if a child woke up sick in the night, she never complained about sitting up with them and praying for the "good Lord above to have mercy on their innocent soul."

We really had a bird's eye view of front line combat. We were using a 20 power tripod mounted spotting telescope and maps and a phone back to Hdq Company.

The soldier in this story can honestly say that he only enjoyed two meals during the 2½ years of his military service and they were both on Christmas day

In 1948 the men of the 139 Static Bakery unit assembled in the cookhouse where they anxiously awaited a meal delivered to them by officers, which was the tradition in the British army for generations.

Fifty-six years later, Billy tried to express his feelings about that afternoon in the tent on Christmas day 1948 and every time he thought of things to say, tears came to his eyes and he had to move on.

Wartime Memories: Operation Varsity

I was a POW January 6, thru April 29, 1945. There was a lot we missed out on in those days as POW's. We were on a 95 mile forced march in 1945 between Nurenburg and Moosburg.