Old Memories
By Bill Shepard
I suppose we all have some! Some memories, we share and some are allowed to remain undisturbed. They are better that way.
Bill Shepard
My son called today and our conversation began with the line, “Dad, I want to take you back in time a ways.” He continued, “I opened a box that has been closed and packed away for a very long time.” My curiosity was really getting the best of me to know what was coming next. Then he said, “Dad, you gave me a little recording that you made while you were in the Army and you were in the hospital. The recording was on a small Red Cross record and was titled, “A Message to Mama.”
My mind was now a long way back. After doing a little math, we both decided it was 75 years ago. By now, my mind was back to 1942-I had been in the Army since February of that year. I was in basic training at an infantry base, Camp Joseph T. Robinson, Little Rock, Arkansas. I had enlisted in the Army, along with some friends. They had gone in a different direction and I felt lost among strangers, and for a youngster who had lived on a mill village all of his life, I felt I was in a foreign land.
The cold winter and the red hills of Arkansas took its toll on me. One day, my leg was swollen so badly and I was advised to report on sick call at a tent near my barrack. I did so, early that morning. There were several men there, all from various parts of the Camp. When I finally was called to the area where the doctor was, he took one look at my leg and said, “You need to go to the hospital” and he handed me a small piece of paper with the word Hospital printed on it. He turned and called for the next patient. I did not know at the time, and I had not been told that I was to wait outside until he had seen all the patients and those who were to go to the hospital would be loaded on a truck and transported there. Not knowing all of that, I went outside and wondered where the hospital was. I started walking, limping along. Every time I saw someone, I asked, “Where’s the hospital?” 1\o one knew. I walked and I walked. The farther I walked, the more lost I became! Yes, I know this story is hard to believe, but every word is true. I had started my search for the hospital about 10:00 a.m. and it was now 3:30p.m. I stumbled up the steps at the large hospital. I was met by a very friendly nurse when I entered the door. She asked what I needed and I handed her the paper with the word, Hospital written on it. She then looked more puzzled and asked where I was located on this sprawling Anny base. I went through the large address-11th Regiment, 51 Battalion, Company D, 4 Platoon. That was my address. She looked at me, the paper in her hand, and then asked, “What’s the matter with you?” “I have a sore leg,” I answered. She looked like she was ready to faint. “You have a sore leg and have been walking since 10 o’clock this morning; have you had lunch? Come into my office and be seated.” An officer (doctor) approached and she called him to one side and they talked. I couldn’t hear their conversation, but I felt they were talking about me. She left and returned in a little while with a glass of orange juice and a few cookies. Shortly afterward, I was carried to a room, in a wheel chair and assigned a cot on which to lie. I remained there for a week and while I was there, a lady from the Red Cross came to see me and allowed me to make the tape. I was to send it to my parents back home.
The title on the small tape had been prepared-A message from a Service man. I began, “Dear Mom, I’m lying here as happy as a dead pig in the sunshine. I had heard that line back in the mill village. I was everything but happy…Now 75 years later, my son calls and tells me he has the little recording. It has been tucked away in a box for all these years. My son then added, “Dad, there’s a story you can write about! I just did!
Next time,
Bill Shepard
Mr. Shepard is a native of Darlington, S.C., and a current resident of Piedmont, S.C. He is the author of “Mill Town Boy” and “Bruised”. He has been sharing his tales of growing up in Darlington for decades, and we are delighted to share them each week. His mailing address for cards and letters is: Bill Shepard 324 Sunny Lane, Piedmont, S.C., 29673.
