The Charles Dickens classic, “A Tale Of Two Cities” begins with, ”It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” That line could be used to describe the United States in the early forties. At that time nobody in his right mind would have said they were the best of times because we were engaged in World War Two. Everyone would quickly agree they were the worst of times. Food, clothing, gasoline and almost anything you wanted were rationed. There were books of stamps given to each family and the stamps were required to buy practically everything. When your stamps were gone, you couldn’t buy rationed products, which included almost everything good. The word would quickly spread around town that a certain store had coffee. Everyone would rush to that store and get into a long line, hoping there would still be some left when they got to the head of the line. Being a young boy, I remember standing in a line at least two blocks long for five pieces of bubble gum (the maximum quantity allowed) and at other times for one Hershey bar. Adults lined up the same way for cigarettes.
This brought about the “Black Market.” Unscrupulous people managed to get large quantities of the rationed items and would sell them to anyone who had enough money to pay their greatly inflated prices. Government officials would prosecute anyone found guilty of selling black market items. Gasoline was probably the most sought after non-food item. This brought “Drip Gasoline” onto the scene. I don’t fully know what drip gas was composed of. I know it was to be found around sites where petroleum products were used in the manufacturing of chemicals. I also think it was a byproduct of natural gas producing stations. Later, as a young worker, I saw a large pool of it at Union Carbide’s Cobb Station at Clendenin. It wasn’t nearly as good as regular gasoline and I was told it would be harmful to an automobile’s engine. However, a Carbide pipe fitter from Lincoln County told me that his car had over 100,000 miles on it and he had never used anything except drip gas. He said you could add mothballs to the drip and it would work just fine. Guys would sneak onto the natural gas producing sites at night and steal the drip gas.
Eligible aged husbands and sons had either volunteered or were drafted into military service. Families who had members serving in the military were given stars to hang in their windows, proudly proclaiming their participation in the war. When a person was killed in battle, a different colored star was given for the family to display, indicating that their loved one had made the ultimate sacrifice.
People who were not in the military were participants also. Every able bodied person was called on to fill jobs in chemical plants, steel mills, shipyards, aircraft factories and in any manufacturing endeavor deemed vital to the war effort. “Rosie the Riveter” became a popular term and referred to the millions of housewives and other women in the United States who went into the workplace to replace the men who were now in the military. The women proved to be very good workers and were vital in our efforts to defeat our enemies. While their participation was necessary to supply our military, this was a new calling for millions of women and they enjoyed their work experiences outside the home so much, many of them were reluctant to return to the virtuous role of housewife and Mother. There are many who believe this was a giant step toward the moral decadence that our nation faces today.
Anyone could contribute. As an eight-year-old boy, I would take a wagon and go door to door, collecting any old metal pot or pan anyone could do without. I got a few and took them to a designated collection spot in South Charleston. Green’s Store on Montrose Drive was the collection point, and to reward us for our effort, Mr. Green would give us an ice cream bar for each vessel collected. Our commitment was to the war effort first and foremost and not to the ice cream bars, although we didn’t turn them down. Kids would collect old newspapers and magazines and turn them in at collection points, usually at their schools. Teachers would even grant some time out of class to gather the paper. To this day, certificates honoring my collection activities are a part of my treasured memorabilia.
But all of that collection stuff on my part was child’s play, mere kid stuff. Let me tell you of a matter of real importance. My biggest deal was that I was appointed a Junior Air Raid Warden! I now realize that the position was really trivial but at the time, I felt bigger than King Kong. Air Raid drills were held periodically to assure that every community did the right and safe thing in the event of an actual air raid. The drills were unannounced and the sounding of the city's fire alarm system would serve as notice that a drill was underway. I might add that an air raid was a real possibility. Enemy airplanes had actually come close to our west coast and an enemy aircraft carrier probably could have gotten close enough to either the east or west coast to launch an air attack on U. S. soil. The chemical plants and the Naval Ordinance Plant in South Charleston would have been highly desirable targets. In the air raid drills, every house was instructed to turn off all lights. Cars were to pull off the roads and turn off their lights. Streetlights were darkened and the whole area was supposed to be pitch black. Everyone was instructed to stay in their houses. It was a violation of the rules to be on the streets during a drill.
There were responsible community leaders who were given the jobs of Air Raid Wardens. They each had an area of the city as their prime responsibility. If someone failed to turn off their lights, it was the duty of the Air Raid Warden to go to the house and see that the lights were turned off. Anyone failing to comply with the order was subject to fine and possible imprisonment. I don’t know who decided that the Wardens needed helpers, but I am eternally grateful to whoever it was. Why? Because I was chosen to be a Junior Air Raid Warden. I was given a helmet like our soldiers wore. The only difference was theirs was O D green and made of steel and mine was white and made of plastic. It had a red triangle on the front and the letters, “Junior Warden.” I also received an armband to be worn on my left arm. I had a flashlight that I was authorized to carry and I could be on the streets during the drill. How important could a nine-year-old boy be? If someone left their lights on, I was instructed to go to the house and ask them to turn them off. No one ever refused (I guess I had an awesome presence with my helmet, armband and flashlight). The Air Raid Wardens and their junior helpers did a masterful job because not once during the war was the city of South Charleston bombed.
How could these times be called the best of times? They were good in that our nation was united in the effort to remain a free nation. Millions of Soldiers, Sailors, Marines, and Air Force personnel were actively fighting the Japanese and Germans. Civilians on the home front were working twelve hour days, sometimes seven days per week, in an effort to produce the supplies necessary to sustain our military activities. Never before or since have we been united in such an unselfish endeavor. Suddenly racial and cultural differences didn’t matter. The United States was the victim of a dastardly sneak attack and no sacrifice was too much to turn back the attackers. Collectively, our nation called on God, asking Him to bring our loved ones home safely and to allow us to keep our freedom and liberty. Sure, Americans poured out their hearts to God during the Korean, Vietnam, and Desert Storm Wars and after the September 11, 2001 crisis. And today, with our troops in Afghanistan, Iraq, and other places around the globe, we continue to plead with God to deliver us from our enemies, but I don’t think we have ever come close to matching the dedication to a cause or the amount of prayers that were offered up to God during World War Two. This was good for us because God tells us in II Chronicles, 7:14, “If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land.” Obedience and trust in God is always rewarded.
Gene Monk
© 2005 Bible Center Church
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