William May....my Dad the Veteran

 My father, like many others from the depression, grew up poor. My Grandfather, Thomas May, had died when dad was young. Dad grew up with his three other brothers and they worked to earn money to support their Mom and the family.

During Prohibition, Dad's brothers who had worked at a local Brewery, were fired due to the closure of the Brewery. They earned money by driving trucks of illegal alcohol to secret bars in East Saint Louis. Dad was young and his job was to "ride shotgun." He would sit in the truck with one of his brothers and hold the shotgun just in case they were stopped.

Poverty led to my father having a limited education. Worse, helping his brothers smuggle alcohol led to limited job skills. Then in 1942, America went to War. As Dad told me, "I didn't know how to do very much. They were looking for guys who could shoot people and that was one thing I knew how to do."

So Dad joined the Army and was in the invasion force that landed on Okinawa with the 713th Tank Battalion. These were the only flame throwing tanks in the US Army. They were used to clear Japanese fortifications hidden in the many caves of Okinawa. Dad's tank hit a land mine and was unable to move. They escaped the tank fighting hand to hand against Japanese soldiers. Dad brought back a sword used by one soldier in an attempt to kill him. Dad was always very proud of the sword. I have it today.

After the War, Dad tried working for Monsanto but had terrible skin reactions to chemicals. He and my mother moved to Albuquerque New Mexico to open a donut shop on Route 66 next to my Aunts motel. After a year of working long days and nights, My father reenlisted in the Air Force. The military was really all he knew.

We had a wonderful life in the military. I grew up with other "Army Brats" living in Utah, Texas, Alaska, Germany, Nebraska, and Minnesota. Dad became a First Sergeant and worked for Air Force Security Services. His men spoke perfect Russian and listened to radios to spy on the Russian Military We lived about 200 km from the East German Fence and the Russian Tanks. 

Then in 1968, after 26 years of military service, Dad was reassigned to Clark Air Base Manila, in support of the Vietnam War. Families were not allowed to go with him. I was in College and we had a wonderful life in Minnesota. Dad told me, "I fought my war against the Japanese who attacked us. Nobody from Vietnam has done anything to America. I'm almost 50 and close to my 30 years. I guess I will retire, rather than go to Vietnam."

Dad retired and moved to Belleville IL., near Scott Air Base. he lived another 30 happy years with my Mom in spite of heart attacks and a brain tumor. Today he and Mom are at Jefferson Barracks National Cemetery in Section 1B site 209. Together.