THE GERMAN-ITALIAN PRISONER OF WAR CAMP, DUBLIN, GEORGIA

Last remaining barracks, 2009

Troup St., Dublin, GA

As the United States became more involved in World War II, more farm products were needed in support of the war effort. The problem was that many of the farmers were no longer fighting the weather but fighting in Europe and the Pacific. Those at home aided the war effort by stepping up agricultural production. In 1943, State Senator Herschel Lovett, County Agent Harry Edge, and Emergency Farm Labor Assistant Walter B. Daniel contacted Congressman Carl Vinson of Milledgeville to request the location of a temporary prisoner of war camp in Dublin.

Laurens County needed help in gathering the crops that would be ready for harvest in the summer through early fall. The gentlemen requested that a camp be set up at the County Farm on Highway 441 just above the present Interstate highway. Vinson contacted Col. I.B. Summers of the Prisoner of War Division of the Federal government. Col. Summers advised Vinson that the location of camp would not be easy because of the lack of trained prison guards. Vinson, undaunted, contacted Col. R.E. Patterson of the prison camp at Camp Wheeler, near Macon. Col. Patterson echoed the doubts about a camp for Dublin.

Under the guidelines of the Geneva Convention of 1929, prisoners of war must be paid eighty cents per day for labor outside of the prison camp. Prison labor was limited by the number of guards, not the number of prisoners. The Farm Labor Advisory Committee, consisting of Bob Hodges, Wade Dominy, C.L. Thigpen, R.T. Gilder, H.W. Dozier, Frank Clark, D.W. Alligood, and A.O. Hadden continued to press Vinson to acquire the camp to help in the harvest. Finally, Vinson succeeded and the army allowed some prisoners to be sent from CampWheeler.

The first couple of hundred prisoners arrived on August 26, 1943, under the supervision of Capt. Henry J. Bordeaux. The first prisoners were Italians. The camp was not located on the county farm but on the site of the old 12th District Fairgrounds where the New York Yankees, Boston Braves, and St. Louis Cardinals had played and where the cowboy hero Tom Mix had thrilled thousands with his traveling circus. The fairgrounds played host to thrilling feats of athletic skill by Olympic champion Jesse Owens in 1940, along with a barnstorming game with two Negro league teams. The fairgrounds were bounded on the north by the railroad east by Troup Street, south by Telfair Street and West by Joiner Street.

The prisoners arrived just in time to help with the peanut harvesting in Laurens and surrounding counties. The camp was completed in three days under the Army Corps of Engineers and the Quartermaster Corps. After the camp was set up, the prisoners were immediately taken to the fields. The men were used to chop cotton and stack peanuts.

The recently completed naval airfield near Dublin soon began handling the first direct air mail into Dublin. The guards were getting letters from Fort Benning flown into Dublin every other day. The civic and church groups made the guards feel at home with parties, home cooking, and entertainment at the service center in the Henry Building at 101 West Jackson Street. It was not long before the soldiers could return the favor. A young woman was lying in the hospital in desperate need of a blood transfusion. No local donors with a matching type could be found. Her friends called the camp commander, Col. S.L. Irwin for help.

Several volunteers arrived at the hospital within ten minutes. The soldiers came back for a second transfusion. The patient recovered. Nearly every one of the 250 guards stationed at the prison camp responded to the call of Lehman P. Keen, chairman of the 3rd War Bond Drive. The German prisoners adapted well to the South and were even heard singing "Dixie" after a hard day's work on the farm.

By October, the need for farm labor had significantly declined. The Army planned to move the camp by mid- October. The Fourth Service Command granted permission for the camp to remain open into November. One half of the five hundred prisoners were moved in the third week of October along with their guards under the leadership of Capt. Jennings. New guards were brought in to replace those who left. Shortly, the camp would close down for the winter.

Just as the allied forces began the invasion of Europe in June of 1944, the German prisoners returned to Dublin. It would be a long hot summer for the German prisoners in Dublin. One prisoner was killed by a falling tree on Snellgrove plantation. The prisoner was working with the pulpwood crew of Robert Cullens. On July the Fourth, three prisoners, Josef Damer, Jeorge Fries, and Willi Pape escaped while on a work detail at the Warner Callan Farm near Scott. They were captured the following day. Some people say that the prisoners just got lost in the woods and were not attempting to escape. The commandant of the camp instituted harsh disciplinary procedures as a result of the escape. The prisoners countered by staging a sit down strike - refusing to work on the farms. Within a few days, calmer heads prevailed. The matter was settled. By the end of the summer, the situation had eased, and the Army guards had enough free time to play baseball, basketball, and football games against the U.S. Navy at the new naval hospital.

Many of the local people bore no hatred to the prisoners. Nearly every Sunday morning the prisoners would march from the camp down Academy Avenue and turn north on Church Street for mass at the Catholic Church. Along the way the Germans sang hymns. The prisoners cooked their own food. Inside the camp there were many good cooks. Some people parked their cars outside the camp fence to catch the sounds of the beautiful German songs and get a sniff of the delicious German dishes being prepared inside the wall. Janice W. Williams of Wrightsville has a vivid memory of seeing a truck load of Germans passing through Johnson County one day. “One man stood in the back of the truck facing the front as their leader. I would watch them go through and they were strong, healthy men. Someone said they didn’t want to escape because they were out of the war and well fed,” Mrs. Williams remembered.

One day while Oliver Bennett was working in the paint shop at the Naval Hospital, he noticed a German prisoner, by the name of S. Pretscher, sketching a picture of his girlfriend on a piece of scrap cardboard. Bennett was so impressed that he asked the man to paint a picture for him. Bennett secured the necessary materials - a linen towel stretched to form a canvas and a the paint. Pretscher went into his studio, a tent on the prison grounds, and diligently worked on the painting, which was a country scene from his homeland. Pretscher presented the painting to Bennett who remained friends after the war ended. The beautiful painting remains in the Bennett family today.


The prisoners came back for one more summer to help the farmers in harvesting their crops, which were still needed for the effort. With the end of the war in August of 1945, there was no longer a need for the camp. The camp closed in early January of 1946. Today, one lone barracks from the camp still stands at the corner of Troup Street and the railroad. It serves as a living reminder of the a time which we all hope will never be seen again.

THE LAST CHRISTMAS BEFORE WORLD WAR 2

Christmas in Laurens County in 1940


The year was 1940. It would be the last Christmas before the war. It was a Christmas when Dubliners and Laurens Countians put their differences aside and celebrated the birth of Christ in its true form. A little commercialism could be found, but the main focus was the religious aspect of the 25th of December. Many were worrying about the impending war in Europe. More than a hundred local men and boys in the Georgia National Guard were training in Fort Jackson, South Carolina for a war they hoped would never come.

A county-wide celebration began on the courthouse square in the late afternoon of the 12th. Several thousand citizens gathered in downtown. Streets were blocked off for several blocks in all directions. Late shoppers were serenaded by the bands of Dublin High School and the Laurens County Marching Band seated on a specially constructed grandstand. Music filled the air - broadcast from loud speakers in the courthouse tower. The boys of Cadwell, Dudley, and Rentz vocational classes aided Georgia Power employees in stringing the lights on trees and the courthouse itself. A manager scene was constructed on the grounds. The lighting also included the traditional tree of lights on the Carnegie Library grounds (now the museum).

Another part of the display of lights was a new neon sign placed on the steel frame of the river bridge wishing new comers a "Merry Christmas!" Later the sign was change to read "Welcome to Dublin" for west bound travelers and "Thanks, Come Again" for east bound visitors on their way out of town.

Dr. C.H. Kittrell, President of the Dublin Lions Club, served as the master of ceremonies. He hailed the gathering "as the most impressive Christmas display our community has ever had."

Dr. Kittrell praised the unity shown by members of the community and its significance in the Christmas season. The Rev. Claude E. Vines prayed for world peace in his invocation. Bob Hightower, chairman of the event, praised the spirit of cooperation by the business and professional men of Dublin, except the five "scrooges" who refused to donate to the program. In all, Hightower and his associates raised more than fifteen hundred dollars. Rev. W.A. Kelley, Superintendent of the Dublin District of the Methodist Church, called for a renewed observation of the spiritual significance of Christmas. By then, children began tugging on their parents sleeves asking "when are they going to turn on the lights?" Mae Hightower made here way to the stage where she threw the lights, just at the moment of dusk. In eclectic voices the crowd filled the air with "oohs", "aahs", and "wows."
The second phase of the celebration came five days later. The ladies of the Dublin Garden Club, led by its president, Mrs. Carl Nelson, sponsored a city-wide outdoor Christmas lighting contest. Mrs. Howard L. Cordell, Sr. and Mrs. Marion Peacock headed the committees which were able to secure out of town judges to evaluate the fifty-four contestants. The judges made their decisions based on the suitability of the lights to the type of home, the size of the decorations in proportion to the size of the house, and the total artistic and color effect of the decorations.

Mr. and Mrs. O.L. Chivers, whose home still stands on Bellevue Ave. across from the Piggly Wiggly, won the first prize. The George T. Morris home, now home to the Chamber of Commerce, finished in a second-place tie with "Green Acres," the home of Mr. and Mrs. Albert Geeslin. Third place was awarded to Mr. and Mrs. James F. Nelson, Jr.


Rev. Ralph Gilliam led an impressive and inspirational candlelight service at Henry Memorial Presbyterian Church on the Sunday before Christmas. Participants in the program included Blanche Coleman, C.C. Crockett, Leah Kittrell, Charles Alexander, Sara Veal, Noble Marshall, and the music club of Dublin High School. The choir of the First Baptist Church presented a cantata at the regular Sunday morning worship service. Mr. and Mrs. Santa Claus came to Buckhorn Methodist Church for an "Old Time" Christmas.

The third major event of that Christmas was a county-wide Christmas Carol program on the courthouse square, just two days before Christmas. A.J. Hargrove, the master of ceremonies, presided over a program which featured thousands of local school students. The children assembled at the school building downtown (now the City Hall.) One group, after another, formed on the school grounds and marched to the courthouse serenading parents, shoppers, and merchants along the way. At the courthouse they did an about face and marched back down the other side of the street. At four o'clock many church choirs assembled at the courthouse for the main part of the program which featured the traditional songs of Christmas, featuring soloists Mrs. Annelle Brown and Blanche Coleman.

An integral part of that Christmas in 1940 and each one since then has been the giving of gifts, especially the toys for the children. Smith's Jewelry had special last minute gifts for momma and daddy or for the special girl or man. Silverware sets sold from $15 to $150.00. Bill folds and belt sets were popular at two dollars or so. Bulova, Waltham, and Elgin watches were the most popular, all for less than forty dollars. A solitaire diamond engagement ring sold for $49.75 with the matching wedding duet for only $24.75. America's finest glassware sold from 25 cents up to $12.00.

Across the street at Lovett and Tharpe, shoppers could shop until 10:30 on Christmas Eve for the last minute gifts. For the boys, Daisy air rifles were a dollar, Wilson basketballs were two dollars and seventy-five cents, and Wilson footballs sold for a dollar and twenty-five cents. The Westfield bicycle, the top of the line, went for the sum of twenty-eight dollars. Tricycles were four dollars and wagons brought three dollars apiece. For the lady of the house, a husband could pick up a new Frigidaire refrigerator, range, or water heater for $120.00 and up. Tree light Strings, the old-fashioned kind with larger light bulbs, sold for fifty cents to a dollar.

Santa Claus came that night. Toy lead soldiers, baby dolls, comic books, and tea sets, along with the requisite new sets of clothes found their way under the trees. For the last two decades the county and city had suffered through a long and dark economic depression. Things were beginning to change. As Charles Dickens said in his "Tale of Two Cities," "It was the best of times. It was the worst of times." Our country was about to enter into a world war that would change the course of the history of man forever.

That joyous season of Christmas had two sad postscripts. Homer Jordan and M.C. Kincey broke into McLellan's Department Store. The two men helped themselves to the contents of the store early on Christmas morning. Otherwise, Sheriff I.F. Coleman and Chief J.W. Robertson reported that the day passed quietly, the only Christmas in recent memory that they didn't have to lock up a few drunks." While all but ten local National Guardsmen returned home for Christmas, two Monroe Georgia soldiers were passing through Dublin on their return to Camp Stewart. Just as Sgt. Roger Malcom and James Peters passed under the Merry Christmas sign on their way to Hinesville, they lost control of their car and crashed into the bridge. Sgt. Malcom didn't survive. It was his last Christmas. Christmas is a time to cherish with your family and friends. Remember the true "reason for the season" and have a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

OWEN K. COLLINS

A Hero Remembered

Lynn Sewell sat by her father's bed. He was dying. His deaf ears could not hear her sobs. For hours she clutched his hands and stared through his blind eyes into her father's soul, remembering the good times they had and trying to imagine the horrors her daddy had suffered through. Owen Collins had many battles in his life, but he never lost sight of what was really important to him, his family and his friends.

On the day after he died, Lynn went back to her father's room to gather his belongings. She rarely saw the children of her father's roommate, who had also been in the latter stages of Alzheimer's Disease. Lynn and the woman began to talk. She mentioned that her father had been a prisoner of war during World War II. The roommate's daughter responded, "So was my father." "My dad was at Moorsburg," Lynn said. Lynn never expected what the lady's response would be. You see, the man who had lived in the same nursing home room for three months with Owen Collins was a prisoner of war, but he was a German soldier imprisoned in an English P.O.W. camp.

Lynn wasn't surprised. For years Owen Collins rarely talked about the war. Although he suffered much in the camps, Collins never held a grudge against his German captors, who were "pretty good" to the prisoners. Though his rations were scant and tasteless, he did say that the guards were older men with young sons of their own and their meals were not much better than his. "He always saw the best in people," Lynn fondly remembered. One sign of his times in the camp came when it was time to feed his dogs. "He always overfed the dogs because he was hungry in the prison camp and he could not stand to think that they may be hungry," Sewell added.

Owen Collins in Stalag 7 (4th from left)




Owen Kitchens Collins, the baby boy of Bryan Lee Collins and Laura Kitchens, was born in Dexter, Georgia on February 28, 1915. The Collins family moved to Sandersville and eventually to Decatur, Georgia, where Owen graduated from high school and went to work for the Standard Coffee Company.

Love came into Owen's life in 1936 when he went on a double date. He fell in love with the other boy's date and married her nearly two years later. They lived a long and happy life together for more than fifty five years.

At the age of 28, Owen enlisted in the United States Army. Leaving his wife and baby boy behind, Collins shipped off to England and prepared to land on the shores of France. As a member of General George S. Patton's Third Army, Owen and his division fought their way through the hedgerows and fortified villages of France in one brutal battle after another.

Collins was carrying a bazooka when the orders came through to take a house filled with Germans. Not knowing the order had been rescinded, Owen continued his advance. Upon reaching the designated objective, Owen realized he was all alone. Deciding that he would be killed or captured if he retreated, he concluded that his only option was to take the whole house, which he did. In doing so, Collins was awarded the Silver Star for gallantry in action. It would be one of two times that Owen would receive the nation's 3rd highest honor for heroism.

There was nothing different about the morning December 20, 1944. It was cold, unmercifully cold. The Battle of the Bulge was raging about Bastogne. Owen and Frederick Svoboda were busy digging their fox hole when they were captured by a German picket. They were taken to Stalag 7 near Munich. While in prison, Owen was forced to eat a diet mainly of bread filled with sawdust. Always looking to help those in need, Owen would gather potatoes while on work details outside the prison, hide them in his specially designed long johns, and cook them for his friends on a stove which he fashioned from pieces of metal he picked up along the way.

A week before the end of the war, Stalag 7 was liberated by the 14th Armored Division. Owen traded his cigarettes for a Brownie camera. He took pictures of his camp, his fellow prisoners, and the planes as they flew overhead. These pictures can be viewed by going to www.moosburg.org.

The Collins family moved to Blue Ridge in 1947. When Kit, the oldest child, went to school with no electricity, Owen put electricity and a light in his son's classroom. The next year, Owen had the entire school wired with electricity and lights. When anyone needed anything fixed in the neighborhood, Owen was there with tools in his hands and a smile on his face. "He would have given anyone the shirt off of his back if he thought it would help them." Lynn recalled of her fathers unceasing desire to help those in need.

Owen's first heart attack struck him at the age of 38 in 1953. Collins, a top salesman for Beck & Gregg Hardware, was forced to hire a teenage student to carry his heavy catalog when he called on his customers. Thirteen years later, Owen suffered the third attack on his heart. Forced to retire, Owen turned to what he loved best, woodworking, hunting, and fishing. His custom-made gunstocks were prized collector's items and heirlooms. His doll houses, game tables, and refinished furniture were considered works of art.

L-R: Kit, Doug, Owen and Lynn Collins (Jan not born yet)

Whether hunting with his best friend Cliff Wilson or fishing with his entire family, Owen loved the outdoors. There was the time when he and his children were sitting in his boat fishing. The baby girl Jan, three years old at the time, was the only one not to catch a fish. When the appropriate diversion came, Owen secretly reeled her line in, placed a good sized fish securely on the hook, and quickly and discreetly placed it back into the cool mountain lake. "She thought she had caught a fish and was the happiest girl in Blue Ridge," Lynn fondly remembered.

After surviving a war, months in a P.O.W. camp, and three heart attacks, Owen fought the ravages of Alzheimer's Disease for the last twenty years of his life. Giving up the keys to his car wasn't as bad as giving up the keys to his riding lawnmower on which he gave rides around the back yard in its trailer. In his retirement, Owen took in a troubled young man who lived across the street. Years later, the then grown man told Owen's daughter that her father was responsible for turning his life around because of the love and guidance he had given to him.

To his nation and his family Owen Collins was a hero, not just because he was a soldier and a prisoner of war, but because he was a wonderful father, keen businessman and expert craftsman and most of all, a good friend. Like the many members of the "Greatest Generation, " Owen Collins most important contributions to America did not come on the cold muddy battlefields of France or in the fact that he survived the horrors of the stalags. They came from his gifts to his community, his family and his friends.

THE FIDDLING FULLBACK


The Story of Wex Jordan, Jr.



The story of Wexler Jordan, Jr. is a story of an all-American boy. He was  born on December 8, 1920 and grew up during hard times. He lived most of his life in Dublin and was a star football player for the Dublin Green Hurricanes. He was described by those who knew him as tall and handsome. He loved to play the violin and was tagged with the nickname of “The Fiddling Fullback.” “Girls swarmed around Wex, who always took time to play with his dozen younger first cousins, “ remembered his cousin Marilyn Brown.

Wex played football for Dublin High in the 1935 and 1936 seasons. In 1935, Wex played guard for a Dublin team which ended the season as District Champions. In his senior season in 1936, Wex shifted to fullback where he did it all for the Dublin offense, passing and running for touchdowns and extra points.

After leaving Dublin High School, Wex played two seasons of football for Middle Georgia College. The following fall Wex enrolled at Georgia Tech. He was determined to make the team despite his small size. Weighing in at 175 pounds,

Jordan tried out as a lineman. Before the season was over, he had been tabbed by his fellow players and coaches as “Hardrock.”

In the 1940 season Wex Jordan rose to the top as a guard for the Ramblin Wrecks. Georgia Tech was coached by the legendary W.A. Alexander. The backfield coach was another legendary figure at Tech. He was Bobby Dodd. Tech started off the season with a romp over the lowly Howard University eleven. Tech
nearly came back to defeat the powerful Irish of Notre Dame in the second game.

We was the defensive star in a 19 to 0 defeat of the Vanderbilt Commodores. Tech’s up and down season continued with a 9 point loss to Auburn. The Yellow Jackets stayed down with a drubbing by Duke and Kentucky in successive games.  Following a one point lost to Alabama at home, Tech lost its fifth game in a row to Florida, followed by a loss to the bitter rival Georgia Bulldogs by the score of 21 to 19. The Yellow Jackets earned some consolation when they defeat the California Golden Bears on Christmas Day.


The year 1941 would become the most important year in the life of Wex Jordan. In fact it was probably the most important in the lives of millions of other Americans. Tech began the 1941 season an easy victory over Chattanooga.

Following a 20 to 0 loss to Notre Dame, the Jackets bounced back with a victory over Auburn. The winning streak was short lived when the Engineers lost to Vanderbilt and Duke. The Jackets defeated Kentucky before losing their last three games to Alabama, Florida, and Georgia. Wex and other Tech defensive lineman gained one consolation from their loss to the Bulldogs. All American and Heisman Trophy winner, Frankie Sinkwich, was held to only sixty yards on the ground.

Sinkwich praised the play of Wex and the other Tech guards. Wex was cited by his coaches as having his best games against Notre Dame, Alabama, and Georgia. He was awarded the Rhodes Trophy as the most valuable player for the 1941 Yellow Jackets.

For his outstanding play at guard, Wex Jordan was named to the All - Southeastern team by the sports staff of the “Atlanta Journal.” The only other Georgian on the team was his rival, Frank Sinkwich. The good news game on his 21st birthday. The bad news in the paper that day was the bombing of Pearl Harbor by the Japanese air force. The holiday game with California was never played and things would never be the same again.

Wex, like all of the other male students at Georgia Tech, got their first taste of military life in ROTC In his senior year of Army ROTC at Tech, Wex was chosen as Captain of Company B of the First Battalion. He majored in Civil Engineering, attained honor graduate status, and was a member of the Army ROT C fraternity, The Scabbard and the Blade. Wex Jordan graduated from Tech in the spring of 1942. Wex Jordan entered the Army Air Corps and earned his wings in 1943.

It was a fall Thursday morning - Veteran’s Day and the 25th anniversary of the end of World War I. It was a day which in the past ten years, Wex would have spent preparing for the next football game. It was a day to remember those soldiers and sailors who had give the last full measure. First Lt. Verne Yahne was leading a five plane formation at the Naval Air Station in San Diego, California.

Lt. Yahne’s oxygen supply failed causing him to black out. The Lieutenant’s plane went into a steep dive and fell apart just as the pilot began to regain consciousness.

Jordan, the second pilot in formation, was unaware of the lead pilot’s fate. He took his P - 38 fighter plane down following the leader’s dive. Jordan could not pull his plane out of the dive and bailed out. As he was parachuting to the ground the wing of Jordan’s plane struck him, killing him instantly. Lt. Yahne made a safe landing in the bay.

B. J. Sessions, of Dublin friend of Jordan’s, was taking judo classes. An air raid alarm sounded - a usual occurrence in the early years of the war. Sessions ran outside in time to see to debris of the planes falling. The remnants of Jordan’s plane nearly fell on the building where Sessions had been taking judo classes.

Sessions ran two blocks to the site of where Jordan’s body had landed. One look told him that the man was dead. Sessions didn’t get a close look and returned to his classes. The instructor asked Sessions if he knew Lt. W.W. Jordan, Jr., who had just been killed in a air accident. Sessions was stunned in disbelief. He had
known Jordan all of his life and considered him a hero. Sessions wrote the Jordans and told them of his witnessing of the tragedy.

Major Victor Walton, commanding officer of the San Diego base, had the difficult task of informing Jordan’s parents, that their only son had been killed.  The family was devastated. Mr. Jordan suffered what was believed to be a minor heart attack. Major Walton assigned Captain James Stevens to escort the body of
the fallen hero back to Dublin for burial. Funeral services were held at the First Christian Church with the Rev. Robert S. Bennett officiating. A honor guard from Cochran Air Field in Macon performed the military rites during the services. The Jordan’s selected We’s high school buddies as pall bearers. Mike Harvard, Johnny Morrison, George Hadden, and Frank Hancock were allowed leave from their military service to carry the body of their fallen comrade to its final resting place.

Also serving as pall bearers were friends Ed Harpe and Billy Hightower. One of Dublin’s and America’s finest young man was laid to rest in Northview Cemetery. His life story was all too short and his death, so senseless and tragic. Jordan lived his life as an example of what is good about America. He was a true - underline the word “true” - hero.


Sources: The Blueprint, 1939-1942, Dublin Courier Herald, Dec. 11, 1941, November 12, 1943, November 17, 1943, November 19, 1943, Laurens County Historical Society Newsletter, May, 1997.

MARY MCCLUSKEY, NURSE

Mary McCluskey knew she wanted to be a nurse, even if it meant she had to do things that girls shouldn't have to do. From those very first afternoons she spent volunteering at the East Tennessee Public Health Office, Mary knew she wanted to help people. In September of 1933, Mary began her nursing studies at Erlanger Hospital Nursing School in Chattanooga, Tennessee.

She took great consolation in comforting patients with warm baths, extra blankets, fresh sheets, and hot water bottles. Surgery was a challenge - no room for error. The hospital was very poor in those days. Remember it was in the middle of the Depression. Mary and the other student nurses spent their free time making bandages and folding gauze. The nurses even made their own cotton balls, saline solutions. Rubber gloves were patched and IV needles were sharpened. The most dreaded chore was the preparation of plaster of Paris casts. Mary and the other nurses enjoyed the hospital nursery the most. The Emergency Room was the most exciting, especially on the weekends. The worst part of the hospital, other than the
sickness, was the Operating Room Supervisor, who was extremely tough on the student nurses. In her first year of school, Mary was allowed $11.00 a month to spend for non necessities. Every morning the nurses stood inspection, just like in the military.

Mary passed her Nurses Board examination. She was assigned as Supervisor of the Colored Wards at Erlanger Hospital. Her salary skyrocketed to $60.00 a month. Mary joined the American Red Cross as a Red Cross Nurse.

While with the Red Cross she was assigned to Camp Forest to aid Mississippi flood victims. She earned $8.00 for a 12 hour day. Mary was looking for a "place to land." After working for a summer at a Philadelphia Graduate Hospital, she landed at Peerless Woolen Mills in Rossville, Georgia. It was in Rossville where she met her future husband, Roy McCluskey.

As the United States became more involved in World War II, Mary decided that she wanted to be an Army Nurse. She left home in September of 1942 for Stark, Florida. Roy joined the Navy. Mary spent 26 months at Camp Blanding in Florida. It was the 2nd largest infantry training camp in the United States. She volunteered for duty in a field hospital overseas, but never got the chance to go.

Mary was assigned to the surgery and then to the Chief Nurse's Office. As a day supervisor, Mary had charge of 3200 beds. The beds were arranged in two rows of 1600 each. The rows were so long one could not see from one end to another.


When her boss, Col. Maley, was transferred to the China, Burma, India Theater of operations, Mary and a friend were invited to go along with her. Mary was sent to Brigham City, Utah, where she trained with in the 172nd General Hospital. From Utah, Mary was flown to Bermuda. The conditions aboard the plane were very uncomfortable. Mary spent a few days in Casablanca, North Africa, before arriving in Karachi, India in December of 1944.

Mary’s assigned hospital was in a desert. When anyone went outside, they had to wear sunglasses and head scarves. One night Mary was invited to go jackal hunting with two male officers. Mary's job was to shine the light. The trio didn't kill any jackals that night. They did kill one dog, a rabbit, and a vulture. The two men chased a poor pregnant cat, but Mary turned off the light, refusing to let the trigger happy officers shoot it.

While off duty, Mary and the nurses enjoyed shopping in the Indian shops.  She met many officers of the famed "Merrill's Marauders," who were building "The Burma Road." The food wasn't that good - certainly like her mamma's. In February of 1945, she was transferred to New Delhi. She never forget the sight of the Taj Mahal in the Indian moonlight. In April of 1945, Mary and her fellow nurses participated in a memorial service for Franklin D. Roosevelt. As the end of the war drew nearer, the action became more intense. Twenty nurses were killed in a plane crash.

By April of 1945, the nurses were moving closer to China. After a stop in Calcutta, the nurses found that there was no hospital as they were told. To their disappointment, the nurses were put on detached service. It seemed that the commanding general had taken materials which had been intended to be used to construct a hospital. The general built a palatial home for himself, much to the dismay of the physicians and nurses.

With the aid of General Chenault's "Flying Tigers" the medical crews began building a hospital on their own. Chinese women and children make bricks out of clay and straw. Despite it being the rainy season, they worked all day to get the hospital built as soon as possible. Life in the hospital was getting better. One night while dancing to music, Mary heard the announcement that the war with Japan was over. "Everyone stood still. We were unable to believe our ears. Then everyone started screaming and crying. We kissed like it was New Year's Eve," Mary wrote. The male officers ran to retrieve bottles of liquor, which had been secreted away in anticipation of the end of the war. After a short celebration, the medical crews were evacuated back Shanghai.

Mary and the other nurses took advantage of their liberty and went into Shanghai to go shopping. Mary did a little Christmas shopping. She even bought her wedding dress. Mary left China in November of 1945. On December 6, 1945, nearly four years to the day after the beginning of the war, Mary saw the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco. After a short stay in Des Moines, Iowa, Mary returned to Chattanooga, just in time for Christmas. She had been all the way around the world in the service of her country. Mary had a Merry Christmas that year, grateful for all her blessings. On January 3, 1946, Mary and Roy were married. Roy and Mary moved to Dublin when Roy came to work with J.P. Stephens and Company. Mary wrote of her experiences in a book which she called "We Have Come A Long Way." Her story, like every nurse, is a story of untiring and devoted service to their community and their country.

CHARLES MCDAINEL

CHARLES McDANIEL,


Volunteer





Charles McDaniel, a self admitted "glory hound," turns seventy three years

old, on tomorrow, January 28, 1998. He doesn't seek glory in what he does, but

is proud of his accomplishments. Charles believes that the past is good and ought

to be remembered. However, he believes that the present and the future is more

important. He is making it his mission to live the rest of his life serving others -

that is, as much as his tired old body can do. For most of his life he has tried to

serve others.



Charles McDaniel was born in Dublin in 1925. He was a son of Herschel

McDaniel and Nettie Mae Hattaway. His maternal grandfather, S.J. Hattaway,

served many years as the "Boss" of the Laurens County Chaingang. When Charles

was three years old, his father took his own life. McDaniel is proud of the fact that

as a child he lived in a house at 203 Mincey Street, which is now the site of Musetta

Foster's African-American History Museum. After his father died, Charles and his

family moved out to a farm off Claxton Dairy Road. They lived on the Payne Place,

now a part of Brookwood Subdivision. In July of 1940, Charles decided to enlist

in the United States Army. World War II was over a year away. Charles wound

up as a private in Co. E of the 13th Infantry Regiment, 8th Army Division, of

General George Patton's 3rd Army.



Charles had the opportunity to see and hear General Patton. He described

Patton as pretty much like you see in the movies. "He was a "glory hound" like

me," McDaniel said. " He liked to show off his two pistols. I guess that's why

became a "glory hound," McDaniel added. Charles and his company participated

in the Normandy Invasion. "I wasn't in the first wave. We came along a little

later. We didn't see any small arms fire at first, only artillery," McDaniel said.

McDaniel and his fellow infantrymen were met by one hedgerow after another.

"These hedgerows were so thick, that we had to get special equipment to get

through them. When our tanks tried to push through, they went belly up. The

German "88s" blew them apart. While fighting around in western France, about

20 miles inland, Charles was wounded when his weapon misfired. His right hand

was severely wounded and his face suffered flesh wounds.



Charles was taken back behind and lines and put on a transport which he

called a "duck." "All I could remember was seeing the waves. I couldn't see any

water. When we arrived at the hospital ship, they picked us up. They picked the

whole "duck" up and set it on the deck," McDaniel said. He knew he was safe, when

he smelled the sweet perfume of the ship's nurses. "They were beautiful ladies.

After all, I was only nineteen years old," McDaniel fondly remembered. For his

actions in the Normandy Invasion, Charles McDaniel was awarded the Purple

Heart and the Bronze Star. Charles spent the next eight months in an English

hospital. He returned to the states in 1945, first to Boston, and then to Oklahoma.

After about three months he was discharged and sent home.



After the war, Charles worked as a construction lineman for the R.E.A..

Charles returned to Dublin where he worked in the V.A. Hospital until the outbreak

of the Korean War. He transferred to Warner Robins Air Force Base, where he

was an electrical aircraft inspector for twenty years. McDaniel and his crew were

working on the new jet engines. While Charles was working at Warner Robins,

he and others formed a public safety department outside of the base. "There was

no police or fire protection. Outside the gate, you could see Boss Watson's house on

the hill and a few shacks around it. Eventually stores, houses, and other buildings

were built. Ernest Woods was our first chief." McDaniel added. His bosses gave

McDaniel and others administrative leave to volunteer as firemen. While at

Warner Robins, McDaniel suffered the tragedy of his mother's death by drowning

in the pond on the Payne Place.



One accomplishment of which McDaniel is proud is his triumph over

alcoholism. "I must have been the biggest drunk in town," McDaniel lamented.

"Judge Bill White saved my life. The examples he set convinced me to stop

drinking." McDaniel wound up in an Atlanta Hospital. After being dismissed, he

worked as an orderly in the Children's Burn Center at Henrietta Eggleston

Hospital. After a heart attack, Charles McDaniel was sent back to Dublin as a

patient in the Domiciliary at the V.A. Hospital in Dublin. At the hospital, he was

assigned the position of First Sergeant of his ward.



Charles McDaniel left the V.A. and has lived in public housing since then.

About 1985, he moved to the senior section on Druid Street. McDaniel soon

realized that his neighborhood had a big problem - a drug problem. He had to do

something. Brenda Smith, the Housing Authority's Executive Director, encouraged

Charles to do something. When Mrs. Smith's help, Charles and the residents of

Druid Street organized the city's first resident housing council. With the help of

Chief Wayne Fuqua, the residents set up a neighborhood watch program. "We got

rid of most of those drug dealers," McDaniel boasted. Charles saw a need to clean

up Vinson Village. He was put in contact with Patsy Baker, Director of Dublin-

Laurens Clean and Beautiful. Charles went to work and cleaned a lot of the trash

out of his neighborhood. In 1995, McDaniel was named Senior Citizen of the Year

during the St. Patrick's Festival. In 1996, he was given the Humanitarian Award

by the Housing Authority.



In 1996, Charles was nominated to carry the Olympic torch during its

passage through Dublin. He trained for the event and fittingly carried the torch

on the V.A. grounds. Charles gives all the credit for this honor to Patsy Baker and

Cong. J. Roy Rowland. While he likes to talk about his accomplishments, Charles

gives a lot of credit to others. He sports his new badge given to him by the V.A.

Hospital. It says, "Charles McDaniel, Volunteer Ambassador." His proudest

accomplishment, McDaniel says, "is being a volunteer. "This volunteer badge

means more to me than the Congressional Medal of Honor." His next project is to

revive the Dublin tradition of having Veteran's Day parades on the 11th of

November. My question is, why not? After all, don't they deserve it?

DECEMBER 7, 1941

A DAY WHICH WILL LIVE IN INFAMY

It was going to be a merry Christmas. On the afternoon of December 1, 1941, 2100 soldiers of the U.S. Army set up camp on the Lassiter Airfield along the northern edge of Dublin. The troops were on their way to Camp Shelby, Mississippi. The field was located between North Jefferson Street and Country Club Road. Another 1000 soldiers on their way to Louisiana came through the next morning. In all, about 600 trucks passed through Dublin. The merchants were beside themselves. The soldiers were paid the day they arrived. The men spent their money on soft drinks, beer, eats, and cigarettes. The quartermasters picked up some necessary supplies for the remainder of the trip.

Electricians were set to start wiring the courthouse Christmas Tree on Monday morning. Santa Claus was making toys for the little ones. The Dublin Hurricanes had just celebrated a successful football season. The Cadwell Bulldogs also celebrated their victory over the Cedar Grove team in the Laurens County Six Man Football Championship. The Chamber of Commerce was set to select officers for the coming year. The John Laurens Chapter of the D.A.R. was preparing to entertain state officers. The news came in over the radio on that fateful Sunday afternoon. The country was at war. Immediately, Laurens Countians turned their thoughts to those serving in the Pacific. Among those serving in Hawaii were Major Robert Wilson, Bascom Ashley, George Dewey Senn, William Drew, Jr., Walter Camp, Joel Wood, Harold Wright, Charles Durden, Hardy Blankenship, Rowland Ellis, Wade Jackson, Nathan Graham, Obie Cauley, and Claxton Mullis. Lts. William C. Thompson, Jr. and Everett Hicks were serving in the Philippines and Woody Dominy was stationed on Wake Island.

December 7, 1941, "A day which will live in infamy," changed all of our lives. For those of us who were alive, it will be a day that they will always remember. For those of us who came along later, it may have been the most important day of our lives. So much of our world's political situations and our scientific and technological advances were direct results of the events which began on that fateful day.

________________________________________________________________

The following is a letter to Mr. and Mrs. Walter Hobbs of Dublin from their daughter Margie Hobbs Wilson, wife of Major Robert Wilson, who was stationed at Pearl Harbor, Hawaii in December, 1941.

_________________________________________________________________

December 7, 1941 Pearl Harbor, Hawaii
Dear Mamma and Daddy;

I know that you are frantic with all the news you are getting over the radio today. Although I have no idea when this letter will get out of here now, I'll write all along and just hope for the best.

We were taken so by surprise this morning that some ships were bombed and reservations were upset. Bob got up first today but I was awake when it all started. He didn't hear the air raid alarm, but he came running upstairs and said I was missing a good mock war. Then he went over and looked out of the window and saw it was the real thing. The Jap planes were flying so low over our house the wheels were almost rolling on the roofs. I knew it was the real thing when I saw a bomb make a direct hit. Bob started putting on his uniform to report for duty and turned on the radio. They were announcing that Japanese planes were attacking the Island of Oahu (that's this one) and for all men to report for duty at once.

The whole Island was organized in nothing flat and they won't let us out of the house. However, when it first started I went over and got Margaret De Sadler and we went on to Harriett Hemmingway's place. Several girls had gathered there and we were there when the worst part was going on. There were about seven kids there and all scared stiff. Harriett was almost out of her head. She has two little boys, one three and one five. I haven't been scared so far. I don't guess I've got enough sense to be.

We had to lie on the floor when most of the raid was going on, because the shrapnel was flying outside and we were afraid it would come through the window. I have a piece for a souvenir. While we were on the floor I had all the children drawing pictures. Gee, we drew so many that I almost learned to draw myself!

Later Margaret and I came over to the house and put some clothes in a suitcase just in case we were to evacuate to the hills, and a sentry caught us and wouldn't let us go back to Harriett's, so we are together at my house. Bob has been in once to get one of the radios for the yard. All the station programs are off the air and we are advised to keep all radios on for special announcements. The army has taken everything over. If anybody had ever told me I'd be right in the middle of an air raid, I would have though he or she was crazy.

Unless we are evacuated before dark Margaret and I are going to bring a mattress downstairs tonight and sleep on the floor. There's no use to tell you not to worry about us because, I know how I'd feel if I were in your place. But try not to worry too much and I'll let you know how we are just as often as I can. As soon as I can, I'll send you a wire, but I don't know now when that will be possible.

We spent a pretty quiet night. Of course Margaret and I both slept with one eye and one ear open. There was a sentry right in front of our house all night so that made us feel better about the situation. Bob came in for a minute at sundown yesterday to see if we were OK, but I haven't seen him since.

Alfred Sturgis rang the door bell at one o'clock this morning and said he wanted to stay with us if it was all right. He had worked all day at the Navy yard and couldn't drive his car after sundown last night. We are certainly glad he came. He is going to see that our letters are mailed for us. Try not to worry too much.
Love, Margie