My father was an engaging and imaginative storyteller. As children, my sister and I listened wide-eyed as he regaled us with his adventures of Brucie and Mary, a fearless brother/sister duo who solved mysteries that would baffle Sherlock Holmes.
Latimer Dexter Johns, understandably preferring the nickname LD, served in the Pacific during WWII as a navigator in the Army Air Corps, flying B-29 bombing missions from Guam to targets on mainland Japan. Years later, when his daughters asked about the war, LD shared only those stories he deemed appropriate for young ears. The following four stories are my childhood favorites.
Peaches and Pasta
LD had a healthy appetite and ate with gusto everything my mother prepared. However, the day they married he proclaimed there were two dishes he never wanted to see on our table: canned peaches and macaroni-and-cheese, Guam’s K-rations. “They kept us alive,” he grumbled. “That’s all I’ll say about them.”
Toads in the Roads
During Guam’s rainy season, heavy military traffic created deep furrows in the dirt roads, which quickly filled with muddy water. At night, as Jeeps sloshed along the rutted roads, their headlights illuminated thousands of frenzied giant cane toads leaping to safety from their watery troughs.
Fright Night
In Guam’s tropical, insect-infested climate, mosquito netting over the beds was a must. One lucky day, LD received a large block of Wisconsin cheddar cheese from his mother. To protect this treasure from insects, he hung it from a rope over his cot, inside the mosquito netting and tied to the reinforcing pole. Awakened by a scrabbling noise from above, LD gaped in horror at an enormous rat, clinging to the block of cheese and gnawing on Wisconsin’s finest. In his struggle to escape the netting, my father fell out of bed, and he and the panicked rat struggled silently in the netted prison until the rodent found its escape. Hyperventilating, LD collapsed on his cot. He never revealed whether he finished the block of cheese.
Redemption
After the war, LD married my mother and the couple moved to Illinois where he attended night school on the GI Bill at the University of Chicago. After school on a rainy winter night, he noticed a young Japanese woman from his class, struggling with her umbrella against the cold Chicago wind. His invitation to her to share his cab was readily accepted. During the ride, the conversation turned to the war. The young woman told LD the story of her Japanese village. [I don’t remember the name.]
“On a rainy evening like tonight, air raid sirens woke my village. As on so many other occasions, we rushed to our shelters. But this night was different. The planes didn’t drop their bombs — they flew over our village and disappeared into the dark sky. We were joyful as we returned to our homes.
“Suddenly, out of the fog, the planes returned, dropping their bombs on our village and the people in their beds. Many died. It was the worst night of the war.”
My father listened in stunned silence. He recognized the village and the night — it was his squadron that had flown this mission. In the fog and clouds, they had missed the town. Correcting their error, they turned and made a second pass, catching the city off guard.
The woman listened wordlessly to LD’s confession, not speaking for the rest of the trip.
She was absent for several nights, and LD experienced guilt and concern that his admission had caused her to drop the course. Then, one evening, he saw her sitting in the front row. After the lecture, he left quickly, not wanting to cause her additional pain.
As he strode determinedly toward home, LD heard her calling, “Mr. Johns! Wait!” Catching up to him, she shyly presented a parcel wrapped in brown paper. Unwrapping it revealed a beautiful hand-knit wool scarf. “You were very kind to me,” she explained. “I knitted this scarf for you. Mr. Johns, our war is over.”
My father wore the scarf every winter for the rest of his life.
Photos – used what you want.
Tales of the North Pacific (My Father’s Abridged Account)
by Michel Johns Robertson
Michel and Leslie Johns, circa 1956
Waiting for a Brucie and Mary story: Leslie (left) and Michel (center) and two childhood friends. Story time at the Johns’ house was a neighborhood attraction.
Lt. Latimer Dexter Johns, U.S. Army Air Corps