Boy Scouts stood at solemn attention. Teenagers doffed their ball caps. Veterans stood and saluted. Amid the clapping I heard shouts of, “God bless you!” and “We love you,” but mostly what I heard were these words shouted over and over again: “Thank you! Thank you for your service.”
In May 2010, I was asked to accompany a group of Pearl Harbor survivors during the annual Armed Forces Torchlight Parade in Spokane, Washington. The invitation to ride along stemmed from a series of stories I’d written for the Spokesman Review newspaper about the Pearl Harbor Survivors Association.
I was unprepared for the emotional response of the crowd, as the truck carrying the small band of heroes wound its way along the parade route. Seated across from Warren and Betty Schott, I watched them smile and wave at the parade-goers.
The Schotts had been on Ford Island during the attack on Pearl Harbor. While Warren’s naval service was noteworthy, it was the story I’d written about their seven-decade marriage that garnered the attention of newspaper readers.
In fact, each time I featured a World War II-era couple in my Love Stories series, my inbox overflowed with reader feedback.
“What if you compiled all those stories in a book?” my husband, Derek, asked. “People can’t get enough of them.”
As I watched the crowd’s reaction at the parade that night, I realized he was right. The stories of couples who met or married during or shortly after World War II were compelling—and time was running out to tell them.
The idea for the book percolated while I thought of another couple I’d interviewed, Jerry and Nancy Gleesing.
As a young pilot during WWII, Jerry and his crew had been shot down over Hungary on their second mission and taken captive. Days of fear and uncertainty followed, but when a POW guard gestured for Gleesing to remove his wedding ring, Gleesing found his voice and his courage.
Often during the interview process, things came up that the couples have never shared before—sometimes even with each other.
Take, for example Walter Stewart. His wife, Laura, gave birth to a baby girl who lived only minutes, just before Walter, a sailor, shipped out overseas. As he processed the loss of their child, Walter said, “I sat at the aircraft factory and cried like a baby. You plan for nine months and then it’s just gone.”
Seventy years later, Laura had looked at him, astonished. “You never told me you cried,” she said. “I never knew that.”
The stories in War Bonds were born out of the hardship, separation and deprivation of World War II. While the stories still resonate, modern relationships have changed. A half-century from now, it will be difficult to find marriages that have endured 60 to 70 years.
And the passing of approximately 555 World War II veterans each day means that unless documented, their stories die with them.
War Bonds isn’t a marriage manual, but as you read these stories, you may be challenged and inspired to cultivate and nurture your own relationships. I know I have been.
As World War II bride Barbara Anderson said, “People today give up too soon. The best is yet to come.”