FLOYD COUNTY — When the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor in 1941, I remember it vividly. It wasn’t long until we were fighting two wars, one in the Pacific and one in Europe. Although our country was woefully unprepared, we won in four years, a miracle of sorts. The keyword — sacrifice. All Americans did, as we united as one. Our young men and women currently fighting a 10-year war in a strange and distant land, know what sacrifice is. But it’s a shame we on the home front can’t or won’t come together to win the “divided” war we’re in.

 Google the word, “sacrifice,” and what do you get? Apparently, we don’t want to know, because the next president will lead us from these turbulent times to peace and prosperity. Each candidate has a sure-fire plan, neither of which includes sacrifice. What are their plans? Just be patient, and vote for him. He’ll announce it at the inauguration before the 12 inaugural balls he must attend.

Seventy years ago, all Americans sacrificed by scrimping, saving and working to the bone, in support of the 16 million soldiers fighting the war. The work was easy, compared to the worry about those gone away, with 291,557 never to return. There was a way to relieve the nagging pain. Write a letter, but what do you say to a son so far away, in battlefields with no name?

Mothers of those sons wrote about the simple things: “Don’t worry, we’re fine here at home. Do they treat you all right and feed you enough? I’ll cook the biggest dinner you ever had, when you return. Take care of yourself, whatever you do. Your Dad says he sure could use you in the hay field, but says he can manage until you get back. Be brave, he said. Love, Mom.”

Pvt. Harry Caudill went away to fight in the war. He fought in Africa, then Italy and when deep in a foxhole, the Germans attacked. When the shooting stopped, he raised a leg up over the edge, but then a shell hit, nearly taking his leg off. After returning home, he wrote articles for the Mountain Eagle in Whitesburg, Ky. The following are excerpts from his article published on Oct. 5, 1944.

“People frequently ask me how soldiers are quartered overseas and about the food they eat. So far as I know the Army has five types of rations, which are classified as A, B, C, D and K. For example, K-ration is packaged in a small oiled cardboard box, but contains a small can of cheese, two small packages of graham crackers, a little box of malted milk dextrose energy tablets, three cigarettes and a stick of chewing gum. D and K rations, carried by men at the front and sometimes eaten without variation for months at a stretch are probably the most detested food items in human history. Next to mail call, “chow” is the best thing a soldier overseas has to look forward to.

“Usually, we slept in ‘pup tents.’ A pup-tent is a small shelter made when two halves are buttoned together. Two men sleep together and the sleeping space is about 4 feet wide by 5 feet wide. There is some additional room at either end where rifles and gear can be kept in a dry place.

“The life of an overseas soldier is indescribably hard. Those of us who have not been overseas cannot even begin to imagine its hardship. It is a life of thirst and hunger, of chilling cold at night and burning heat by day, of rain, sleet and snow or hot scorching sunshine. It is a life to which a really comfortable moment is practically unknown. It is a life to which the faces and voices of one’s families are only memories, and the luxury of being clean and at ease with the world almost forgotten memories. The men over there are homesick. They want to come home as soon as is humanly possible! And they consider an American who is not doing everything in his or her power to bring them back soon, to be no more than a common criminal.” (Say no more.)

Private Caudill’s crippling wound pained him for the remainder of his life, but it did not prevent him from fighting for justice, equality and perpetuation of the American dream. He became a lawyer, legislator and author, knowing what sacrifice, duty and honor are.



Contact Terry Cummins at TLCTLC@AOL.com.