"AKA" Jimmy Doolittle Air & Space Museum

What happened on this day in History?

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MY ADVANCED ALCOHOLISM PROBLEM

    The assignment in Amarillo was brief but it appeared to be a turn toward total alcoholic behavior. I was only a the Base for approximately one week when trouble brewed. I was called on the carpet for drunk and disorderly conduct while drinking off base. At that time Texas had a law which prohibited the dispensing of liquor over the bar. Night clubs only sold setups and you had to bring your own liquor. Needless to say, I rarely had the money to buy a bottle. I decided to become friendly with a man who wore a Masonic ring. Although never a Mason, a drinking buddy who was a former Mason told me of several passages which cold be repeated to establish yourself as a Mason. The only problem I had was the fact that this gentleman after giving me several drinks uttered some things which proved me to be a phony. He proceeded to beat me up and there was nothing I could do about it.

    Another time I was really intoxicated and wanted to go to the men's room. A GI stood at the door saying "nobody goes in here." In an attempt to pass him, he struck me several times (as was later told to me) and rendered me unconscious. I ended up in the hospital and was unconscious for several hours. The result of this encounter was a broken nose, two black eyes, and a concussion. The GI who struck me was identified by others at the bar. He was court-martialed, given six months in the guardhouse and a dishonorable discharge. It was not his first encounter with the law and several charges were pending.

        After about three months in Amarillo we were told our orders had come through and many of us were headed overseas. We were given a thirty day furlough prior to shipment. I immediately contacted my girlfriend and a wedding was planned during my furlough time.

    The trip back home was a total drinking bout. I had (for a change) won some money in a poker game and during our train trip, got off at several stations to replenish my drinking supply. Arriving home it was necessary to carry me off the train. My family and girlfriend were stunned and the wedding was almost called off. During the time preceding the wedding I drank at the local bars but never got drunk. Because of my being at Pearl Harbor, I was treated as a hero and the drinks flowed free but I had to contain myself because of the warnings received the day of arrival at home. I had several ribbons and no one knew what they were so I let them think they were for bravery. If they only knew of my fast retreat during the Pearl Harbor battle.

    My girlfriend insisted on a formal wedding. I had never been involved in anything formal and felt like a duck out of water. Although there was some drinking, moderation was the theme of the day.

    After the wedding and much anxiety through the proceedings, it was off for a short honeymoon in Cleveland all of sixty miles away. Believe it or not, I fell asleep during the short train trip. Looking back on that incident, it is a wonder my new wife didn't dump me then.

    My leave time expired and I returned to Amarillo. A short time later we were transferred to Seymour-Johnson Air Force Base in Goldsboro, North Carolina. Although we were told that our dependents could not accompany us, there was no legitimate way they could keep us from having our spouse with us. My wife came to Goldsboro and she got a small apartment in town. Our living together was short-lived but during that period she got pregnant, something I did not know about until I reached my new assignment which was New Guinea.

    Supposedly, when one served in the Pacific Theater of Operations they were not to be returned to that theater. However, the military did not follow their own guidelines.

    Reaching the west coast we were loaded on a troop ship from the dreaded "Angel Island" and were on our way to the most forsaken part of the world. Life was very harsh in the jungles. We stayed at Port Moresby for one night and then we were flown into the interior of the jungles. In flight it was a beautiful sight seeing all of the various colored birds above the tree tops. The beauty was astounding in Nadzab, New Guinea, but the real meaning of life in the jungles began to sink in. The heat was overwhelming and the insects filled the air.

    The first night we spent in our new home, (a four man tent) a monsoon hit us. The water came almost to the bottom of our cots and the mosquito's were everywhere. I was quickly reminded of my early days in Mosquito Creek. Sleep was out of the question as the rain pelted the tent relentlessly and added to the worry of contracting malaria.

    The only town was many miles away. The population consisted of natives who could not speak English. It was very depressing and the thoughts of how one could survive in this setting were constantly in my mind. This and the thoughts of air attacks made one almost insane.

    We soon discovered that the dietary habits would be changed drastically. We often ate food which was barely fit for human consumption. Fresh meat, eggs, and other food items were luxuries we were not provided. I recall one time when the Commanding Officer was promoted to Major. He had a plane pick up steaks in Australia and we had a real feast that time. Although the Major was detested, we at his steaks.

    I was assigned to work in the Technical Supply section of Aircraft Maintenance, processing and filing technical orders pertaining to aircraft parts. It was a boring job but soon I was working on aircraft.

    The only form of recreation was playing baseball on our off-duty time. We worked seven days a week but time was allotted for recreation. I looked forward to playing baseball and eventually we had a good team playing other military teams in the area. All types of organizations were stationed in Nadzab area and they had their own teams. To my surprise, they chose me to manage the team which provided an incentive to win.

    One day we were driving along in a Weapons Carrier and there was a group of natives along the road. Many were carrying bags on their heads and had bones through their noses. Everyone looked the part of a tribe. Because they were in the middle of the road our driver blew the horn. None of them moved and finally someone began to cuss them out. One of the tribesmen turned around and said, "I don't appreciate your talking to us like that." We were in a state of shock upon hearing that comment. We later discovered he was a missionary and a graduate of a college in Sydney, Australia.

    My drinking still haunted me but legitimate whiskey from Australia cost sixty dollars a fifth and my purchasing power had not reached that level. Beer was rationed and every third day we were issued a six-pack. There was no refrigeration available and when someone opened the hot beer, they had to stick their mouth next to the can when it was opened. The warm beer would gush out and half the contents would be lost. If we were lucky, we would get some carbon tetrachloride, wet a bag with it, put the beer in the sack and twirl the bag around in the air. The evaporation of the carbon tetrachloride caused the beer to get cool and the palate was a bit more satisfied. GI's always seemed to come up with a solution to an impossible situation.

    An example of their ingenuity was making an intoxicating beverage by drilling a hole in a coconut, pouring sugar in the hole, plugging it with a cork and then wait for it to ferment. The wait was excruciating but eventually an intoxicating beverage was produced. The taste left something to be desired, and the results of drinking this concoction was diarrhea. Some of us just seemed to waste away.

    Another method of becoming intoxicated was drinking lemon and vanilla extract. After drinking some lemon extract one time, my Commanding Officer wanted to see me about something. With great reluctance I reported to him and he took a big breath and said, "Sergeant, what the hell have you been drinking, you smell like a fruitcake?".

    While in New Guinea my wife gave birth to a baby girl. She had complications during the delivery of our daughter. She and the baby developed uremia which caused a life threatening condition. The American Red Cross contacted my organization and recommended that I come home. I got very drunk and took up a collection in the squadron to pay for my way back to the States. Unfortunately, I thought that with careful investment in a blackjack game, the money to make the trip would be greater. I lost my shirt in the process and when it was known that my leave had been disapproved everyone clamored for their money. It was even posted on the bulletin board requesting that anyone who loaned me money please report to the Squadron Commander. This almost got me court-martialed, but due to the circumstances I was allowed to pay the money back without being punished.

    One night, after a severe drinking bout, I decided to seek out some Japanese in the jungle. I got a lot of ammunition, several guns and proceeded to go hunting them. I got lost in the jungle and after spending considerable time wondering around, I found my way back to my organization. I was sick and ended up in the hospital. Later, my sickness was diagnosed as dengue fever, I was in the hospital for some time and upon discharge, was transferred to another organization on the island of Biak. This island was located on the equator and the heat was unbearable. A short time later I was transferred to Mindora in the Philippine Islands.\

    The war had taken on a new look and the United States had gained the offensive. We recaptured most of the Islands in the Pacific. Many of the troops stationed in the theater were in a position to return to the United States. A point system was initiated which consisted of allowing points for time overseas, marital status and whether or not there were children. Although qualified to return on the first shipment my name was not on the first list because I was declared essential to the mission. Being disturbed would be putting it mildly but permission was granted to go to Manila and plead my case.

    Upon arrival, I asked for permission to speak to the Commanding General. The Executive Officer denied the request and I became rather vocal. As luck would have it, General White the Commander of Far Eastern Air Forces came out of his office and overheard the rather heated discussion. He asked "What is the problem?" and in a nervous subdued voice I told my story about my assignment not being essential and was earlier denied a furlough when my wife was critically ill. He immediately ordered that my name be put on the shipping list. Upon returning to the outfit, orders were cut and my transfer to Clark Air Force Base was a reality. Transportation back to the States was aboard the Leonard Wood which made it three times I traveled under it's flag.

    We finally docked in Los Angeles and was transferred to Camp Anzio. We were welcomed by the Commanding Officer. He spoke as though we were heroes. There was no intention to miss the elaborate meal planned but it had been ages since we had a real cold beer. It was off to the beer joint and the first one led to more. The ensuing steak dinner was forgotten and the next morning I awoke on a foot locker which was about three feet long and two feet wide. It is not a recommended bed even for the intoxicated person.

    Our orders dictated that we go to Camp Attebury prior to discharge. While on the train to the Camp I fell out of the upper bunk dislocating my shoulder. I was taken off the train and a doctor took care of me, putting my arm in a sling and wrapping my left arm close to my body. The next day after arrival at Camp Attebury the Red Cross notified me that my stepmother had died. I was granted an emergency leave and took the train home. Upon arrival at home everyone thought I was a war casualty. It assured me plenty of drinks as I was considered a hero.

    My wife and family met me at the train station. I had never seen my daughter, but when I laid eyes on her there was an immediate love affair. My only problem was my appearance. I weighed only one hundred and five pounds. In addition to the weight loss, my skin was yellowish green from taking atabrine. Everyone seemed to look at me as though I were a freak.

    My daughter was the joy of my life. She was so beautiful and seemed to respond to my attention in a positive way. Unfortunately, the feeling of being a stranger to the rest of my wife's family prevailed. Everything seemed to be tentative. I did not have a comfortable feeling in their midst. The thought of a drink was always on my mind but the fear of being cast aside prevented me from indulging.

    My stepmother's funeral was conducted three days after arrival. It was then the sacrifices she had made to the family was realized. She came into our life under other than normal circumstances and worked very hard to make our life a little more tolerable.

    Adjustment to family life was very difficult after spending almost two years in the jungles of the far east. Many of the things taken for granted were missing in the crude life we had to endure in New Guinea and Biak. The common things such as ice water was a luxury. Hot water to bathe, fresh food, and the comfortable beds for sleeping were truly appreciated. The average citizen would have a difficult time imaging the hardships endured in jungle life.

    I had been forewarned about drinking but did manage to sneak out for an occasional drink. In the local bars where I was well known, the drinks flowed free. Exercising control over the amount consumed was a major task. Some of the customers thought I was hero because of surviving the Pearl Harbor attack and the ribbons on my uniform. There was nothing accomplished which should evoke such feelings. All of the ribbons I wore were for just being there and not for bravery.

    I returned to Camp Attebury and was awaiting discharge and a return to civilian life. On 14 August  1945, while on pass in Columbus, Indiana everyone went wild as the word spread that the Japanese had surrendered. I had made up my mind if I were in the States when the war with Japan ended, a big celebration was in order. I ran down the street to get into a liquor store before they closed and the next thing I remember it was the day after the surrender and I was in the hospital. Someone had thrown an object out of the second floor of a building, hitting me on the head rendering me unconscious thus depriving me of celebrating this memorable event.

    Three days later I was discharged and my military service was put on hold. There was considerable apprehension on my way home to my new family. I had learned no trade in the Air Force that could be converted to civilian use. While contemplating my future, several servicemen aboard the train were engaged in some serious drinking. The charm was turned on and soon they were my buddies. Although not drunk when returning home it did not take an expert to determine I had been drinking.

    After several weeks my father-in-law who worked for General Electric, got me a job in the lamp division in town. I worked very hard to impress people with my sincerity, but on several occasions reported for work under the influence of alcohol. Eventually I lost my job and drinking became a daily affair. My wife became disgusted and one night forbid me from coming home. My clothes were put on the front porch and soon I was notified of an impending divorce.

    While in the hospital a friend I had known for many years came to visit me. He told me that he was an alcoholic who hadn't had a drink for almost four years. He spent hours with me and tried to get me into a Veteran's Hospital. I was refused admission because of my drinking. Having had no knowledge regarding alcoholism, there was a strong resistance to the suggestion that I might be an alcoholic.

    Before being hospitalized, I was fortunate to obtain a job with a General Motors plant. It was a good paying job and interesting to me. Pay was based on production skills and I worked very hard to prove my worth. Immediately prior to my being hospitalized, the plant went on strike and I was lucky not to miss any work.

    Upon my return to work I was asked by management to increase production to make up for the losses sustained during the strike. This had a negative impact on union members and they told me to slow down. Military training caused me to feel an obligation to the people who signed my paycheck. A conflict arose between me and the union. Working conditions rapidly changed and I was under constant scrutiny.

    The divorce became final and there was almost three months of sobriety but the feeling of rejection haunted me. Not having a close relationship with my daughter caused me to become very depressed. My ex-wife told me she would remarry me if I remained abstinent for a year. I met her on the bus one day and she informed me that regardless of my being sober, she would never remarry me. That day I quit my job and decided to go to Arizona where my old girlfriend worked in a bank in Phoenix. I hitchhiked to Cleveland and on an impulse, decided to reenlist in the Air Force. After taking a physical and ready to serve the Air Force again, I went out the door and headed west.

    The next stop was Toledo. I spent some time on the skid row section of the town. It was there that the grim realities of life on the street hit me. Was this to be my fate? Life on skid row was very depressing and a symbol of capitulation by the suffering alcoholic. Never having experienced such a life, one cannot imagine the hardships endured on the street. Being cold, hungry and destitute yet still maintaining a desire to live a normal life may have been the motivating factor in leaving the streets and rejoining the Air Force.

    The first duty station was Wright-Patterson Air Force Base in Dayton, Ohio. Most of the time was spent at the various bars in Dayton because there was a delay in an assignment and we were free to come and go as we chose. I took full advantage of this freedom and was intoxicated most of the time. My orders finally arrived and Romulus, Michigan was my assigned Base. This was Reserve Training Base and most of the flying was on weekends.

    I was put in charge of the flight records of the reserve officers. This was a monotonous duty and little skill was required to maintain them and a lack of incentive to work for a promotion. It was rather strange but when I re-enlisted it was a policy to give the enlisted people their old rank back. At one time I was a First Sergeant and Technical Sergeant. Upon reassignment from the First Sergeants position, one was given the rank of Technical Sergeant. A rather bizarre circumstance but that is the way some of the military policies are. Upon reenlistment in Toledo, I was made a Master Sergeant, the new rank of a First Sergeant. I wore my stripes proudly for about three weeks until the error was corrected. It is presumed this saved my rank as there was a greater accountability for the top enlisted grade. Chapter 5

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