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My sister, Marcia, was cleaning out some things the other day and came across a packet of WWII correspondence in a box she had brought from our parents’ home in Texas—our father was 111th  soldier Bill (aka Pinky) Johnson, the inspiration for this blog. He passed away in 2001. We were so excited! We had never found a single letter or card of theirs from the war.

Our mother, Nesta, met our dad at a dance held in her village for the 111th soldiers billeted at Albro Castle, which was about eight miles away. She was working as a nurse in Cardiff during the war and came home in March 1944 on one of her rare breaks. It had taken her most of the day to travel the 100 miles to West Wales. She had barely walked in the front door when her mother and a friend pushed her to go the dance that night. The friend said, “You must go, Nesta! You never know—you might meet your fate tonight!”

Truer words were never spoken.

We don’t know how much time they were able to spend together that March, but we do know that she had to return to work; then on June 7, the 111th left Wales for Normandy. It seems almost certain that the next time they saw each other was the following summer–more than a year later–when Dad was granted leave (by Capt. Art Brooks—thanks, Art!) to go from Germany to Wales to get married in late August 1945. (The unit took up a collection of $130 for their wedding present!) It appears Bill and Nesta had a only week for their wedding in Cardiff and a brief honeymoon in London before he had to return to Germany.  He shipped back to the States in October 1945. Then they faced another long separation–they wouldn’t see each other again until May 1946.

Mom and Dad wedding photo

Nesta and Bill, wedding portrait

The reason was that the “war brides” had to wait until all the U.S. troops got home before transport ships were available to take the wives to America. About 70,000 British women married American soldiers and sailors. There was only one other 111th soldier who married a Welsh girl, so far as we know: Edward Newmeyer, who met his wife while the unit was stationed in Barry, Wales.

For those interested in learning more about British war brides and American troops in South Wales during the war, please visit the website of our friend Glenn Booker, who has spent years researching and documenting the subject, at https://sites.google.com/site/usmilitaryinsouthwales/

Below are transcriptions of the two letters our mother wrote to her mother while on the brides’ ship. We think she did a good job of capturing the sights and sounds and emotions of those women as they slowly traveled across the Atlantic to a new and very different life; we thought you might find them interesting too. (This posting is quite a bit longer than my usual report, so please forgive the length.) Mom's ship to US

SS Jarrett M. Huddleston

At Sea, April 27th, 1946

My Dear Mamma,

Today we have been a week at sea. I hope you got all the letters and postcards I sent from camp and also the one I managed to get out from Southampton—I gave it to a WAC on Friday night. I sent 10 shillings and the points from camp too. I hope you get them okay. The reason why we’re taking so long to get there is that this ship is a hospital ship and can’t do more than 10 knots an hour, though we’re well past halfway now and hope to get there by Thursday or Friday.

Everyone is grand here. There are 500 brides aboard and hundreds of babies. We have to be up early each morning to look after the babies while the mothers are at breakfast. The food is wonderful—plenty of ices, chicken, etc., and jellies and loads of fruit each day. We’re getting used to three meals a day now and all the rich food. Bet our stomachs got a shock at first!

Sunday was the only day I was seasick—was better by evening though. We were all over the rail that day and some have been sick up to yesterday! Don’t think I’ll be seasick any more as I’ve got my sea legs okay now and am enjoying every minute of it. Lovely sunshine every day since we left. Isabel has been up on top deck since yesterday—I’ve been up every day.

We had two stowaways on board—they got on in Southampton, young kids about 17. They were put on a ship bound for England on Tuesday—we were all out watching the whole performance. It was breath-taking seeing them get into the little boats and go towards the other ship, which was just on the horizon—sometimes it disappeared from sight altogether in the waves! That day we saw three more ships. We heard the other night that a bride ship has passed us and is now in New York! That was the one Megan Evans was on, but they had a week’s stay at Tidworth. I’d rather be on the ship than still there. [Tidworth was a British Army camp near Salisbury, England, where many of the war brides received physicals, lectures on life in the U.S. and travel instructions.]

There are heaps of Welsh girls here. I’ve talked to dozens. But this Irish girl and I are together still. We’re on the lower deck—I sleep on the top bunk. We do have some fun in the nights with the girls. Some, though, are not very nice to know—have been caught flirting with the crew! So our room-mates went snooping last night to see things for themselves. Still, one can’t believe all the rumours we hear.

It’s lovely in the evenings—a soft breeze blowing and we can sit around on the top listening to the radio. Requests are played every night at 6-8 pm. I put one in yesterday for “Serenade for Strings.” The cinema is held in the mess room every night—some shows are quite good. Plenty of books to be had in the lounge and there’s also a library if we care to go.

We saw about a dozen swordfish jump out of the water the other day as they followed the ship along.

The mothers get the first chances and best of everything here and they are in the two top decks. They were selling lots of things we hadn’t seen for ages and of course less than half price to us at the P.X. There were beautiful compacts for $1.90 and numerous other things. The next day we queued up but they had all gone, although we had quite a few things—clips and powder and cream, the best for very little money. I think I know the money now because when I went yesterday I handed the right amount without hesitation—we’ve got to be quick here when there’s such a queue!

I’ll send you the ship’s paper when I reach there—we have one every day—the brides type and trace it—Clare Hamill is one of our gang and Eunice does the tracing—you’ll see their names on it when you get them. We are already 4 hours back now and right now it’s nearly 2 pm by me—that means 6 pm home. Been doing the garden?

I’m looking forward so much to arriving there now—I know how lucky I’ve been and by the talk I hear going around with these girls worrying, etc. about their husbands I know I’m lucky—and a very few are. Isabel is going to Oklahoma, on a farm. So was Megan (the one at Cardiff Infirmary), going farming to Nebraska.

April 29th

We were told today that we will be in N. York harbour at 7 am on Friday. Those going furthest will have to remain on board for three days—that will be the worst part of it. We’re just off Newfoundland today. It was very rough yesterday—a few got sick again but I managed to keep it all down. We had a smashing turkey dinner and fruit salad too. Ice cream each evening. There are four of us going to San Antonio. I met one yesterday from Liverpool. We passed another ship yesterday. Yesterday most of us gathered on the deck towards evening and had a sing-song. We were there to have some air because it’s no use staying down there when one feels sick. While we were there we sighted two sharks not far from the boat—they were monsters!

We’ll be glad to see a bit of land after all these days of nothing but sea and ship. Most of the days are sunny and right now we’re in our favourite spot on top deck again listening to the radio. We like watching the sunset. At times it’s really beautiful—pink and blue sky and the sun pops down and out of sight while we’re watching it—takes only about 5 minutes. We are already 5 hours back by today. Twilight doesn’t last long—gets dark around 6:30 pm.

I hope this isn’t too small for you to read—I don’t want it to weigh too much. The sea breezes and sunlight are giving us a tan—yesterday I washed my hair and dried it in the sun—quire blonde now! This is all for today—6 pm at home and 1 pm here. Been up to Grandma’s today? More later.

May 2nd

Nothing much has happened since I wrote last. We’ve been to some shows—the brides put on a talent show last night—was good, too—about 12-14 Welsh girls sang “Hen Wlad fy Nhadau” [the Welsh national anthem]” and “Ar hyd y nos.” There are about 30 Welsh girls here altogether.

Tomorrow is the day—we will be in the harbour at 7 am. Those going to New York will be off immediately but we go on Monday—the husbands have been notified by the Army not to meet us if they come from a distance, but they keep them informed of our arrival and we can’t phone them. On Saturday buses will take us who are left on the ship on a tour around New York and we will be seeing all the interesting places.

They are very good to us here and have been all along. Lovely food and plenty of it, all the best of everything and we’ll be going first class all the way. There’s a very nice girl in our berth—or ward—as there are 32 of us sleeping down here. She’s going to Dallas, Tex. And just now she gave me a book on San Antonio with all pictures and wants us to call on them whenever we can. She has a friend in San Antonio and will be going there often. She is extremely nice.

They are all busy here packing and hair dressing etc. etc. All very excited—quite a lot going off tomorrow. We’re getting up at 4:30 am to see the Statue of Liberty—the girls have asked me to put the alarm on!

The trip on the whole hasn’t been too bad—only of course we were rather unfortunate in having a slow ship, but it has gone by fairly quickly really. There’s too much noise going on here now between the girls and the radio to write much. They’re broadcasting some of the girls who took part in the talent show—some of one crooning!! Sounds awful over the radio.

Excuse this ending so scrappy. My love to Grandma and James and tell them I’ll write soon. Also Betty and kindest regards to Mr. Howells.

So until next time, cheerio! And fondest love,

Nesta

Mom and Tilla cropped

Nesta and her mother a few years earlier

S.S. J.M. Huddleston

New York Harbour, May 4th, 1946

My Dear Mamma,

I had already sealed the last letter before we entered New York but failed to get it mailed today as we had no stamps. Hope you got the cable okay. It has all been very exciting. We saw land first on Thursday night and were up at 5 am Friday to see the harbour—quite a size and sight to see at dawn. It was a beautiful sunny morning—the skyscrapers were very impressive although at a distance you couldn’t really judge how tall they actually were—as we found out today on a tour all around the city. We passed the Statue of Liberty, which is quite a few stories high and about 97 steps up to the arm that holds the torch. The statue itself was a greenish colour. We stared at it for ages.

Yesterday was a busy day—for those getting off and for us onlookers—we had a busy time just looking on! And watching the husbands coming to meet them. There was one poor girl in tears. Her husband couldn’t be found. The Red Cross couldn’t trace him, then she let out that she hadn’t heard a word from him since November—don’t know what happened to her. One from our camp at Tidworth left for home before we left for Southampton—we all think how silly she was—she’s really going to miss a lot. We just heard on the radio that the husband was suing for divorce from her, serves her right, too.

Today was a great day. We were taken on a tour of New York City and it really was a sight worth seeing. We had five buses. Among the places we saw were Broadway, Manhattan, Times Square, The White Way, a part of Harlem, all those Fifth Avenue stores, etc., etc. and the Columbia University—some size, 32,00 students—and the Empire State Building. We put our heads on the floor of the bus but still couldn’t see the top! But I had a good look at it from a distance, whew! What a height!

Plenty of everything in the shops. All the people stood watching and some smiled and waved at us in the streets. We saw the Hudson River and suspension bridge—the next largest to San Francisco— and New Jersey on the other side of the river. We saw all the select parts—Park Ave., etc. The women were all very smart. Most wore boxy coats and were very colourful and all had flowers in the hair or flowery hats, apparently because of Easter time, lovely shoes and stockings. The streets were not as crowded as London or Cardiff to that extent—only shoppers. No queues and plenty of fruit and eggs etc.—eggs 2shillings a dozen.

Looking through the front of the bus, what struck me the most was the colours—yellow, red, green and orange taxi cabs, all colour cars—green and yellow buses. Times Square was all twinkling with various lights in the big theatres and cinemas this afternoon—would have liked to have seen them at night. I think Broadway runs into the same street but we saw so much. Along one street there were cafes opening on the pavements like Paris. All the hotels (select ones) had a coverway leading up—green canvas tops.

Although all this was new to me, I didn’t feel as if I were in a strange country at all—just seemed like any English town only bigger. Something like London only the buildings taller. It’s funny but I feel just as I did at Tidworth. It was new and strange there and I seem to be quite as near to Wales here as I did when I was in England!! Sounds silly I know, but that’s how one feels away from Kilgerran. There everywhere seems far and hard to get to, but here it’s just the opposite!

We haven’t been able to cable or ring anyone up in the States except in emergency cases. Only yesterday we were allowed visitors—quite a few came. We haven’t been allowed off the ship at all—only this afternoon of course. There are a lot of civilian officers on board dealing with our transportation. Everything is so well organized down to the last safety pin. It really is wonderful the way they do things here. We got our labels just now. I leave at 11:15 am Monday and board the train at 1:30 pm. Will probably be in San Antonio on Wednesday. I’m longing to get there now and to see Bill. It’s getting more empty here now, quite a lot have left. We saw one bride with her husband in the city this afternoon! Isabel and Betty (Dallas) are on the same train as I am.

We all get along well with one another—it’s just like being in the army! The Americans we have seen have really been wonderful to us. They are all so nice and a grand people. No class or petty snobbery here, everyone cheerful and plenty of wisecracks.

Well, I must finish this now, but there will be more later. This radio is on with all the adverts before news and everything! There was a plane writing Pepsi-Cola in the sky.

My love to Grandma and James and all at home.

Cheerio! Fondest love,

Nesta

 

 

 

 

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Ed and I made a quick trip to Florida last week to visit  two of our four 111th survivors, John Raisler and Art Brooks. (You may recall that Art was one of five of the 111th’s officers beginning in 1942 and became company commander in January 1945, as they entered Germany.)

We are happy to report that both men are doing very well. John turned 96 in late March; Art will be 99 this October. Art’s wife of nearly 70 years, Judy, is also doing very well. It was great seeing everyone again and catching up.

Art, judy Louise april 2016

Art Brooks with wife Judy and daughter Louise

Raisler and Andrea

John Raisler with Andrea

Both men still live happily in their own homes, and both are very fortunate that their children are around to provide loving help and support. In John’s case, son Jim comes by often to take John to appointments and the grocery store, as well as cook meals for him and maintain the house and yard. In Art’s and Judy’s case, daughter Louise is with them most of the time, taking care of everything they need help with.

When we got home, I wondered how our other two survivors were doing. Incredibly, the very next morning I received a comment on this blog from Osborne Eastwood’s niece, Carolyn. Her timing was perfect! She said that she had been with Osborne on his 95th birthday last Wednesday: “I read to him [from “Only the Best”] for two hours yesterday and watched as he remembered a different time and place. Thank you so much for the information and for keeping it alive for others to have a visual!”

Osborne Eastwood with wife 2016

Eva and Osborne Eastwood

She later wrote to me and said, “In August 2015, he married Eva, his caregiver of fifteen years and sister-in-law to [his deceased wife] Vera. At that time, they moved to assisted living. They now live happily in Hot Springs, Arkansas, thanks in large part to the Center for Elder Veterans Rights. They enjoy their friends, family, and sitting on the patio in their favorite swing.  Eva says, “He is going to live to be 107.”  He says, “That is too long and just not natural.” People who know him contribute his long life: first to his love for God, second the care Eva has given him in the later years, and last clean living and his kind heart.”

And last but certainly not least, Ray Cross celebrated his 97th birthday last month in Michigan.Ray Cross DVD cover larger If you recall, Ray’s son Terry recorded several wonderful interviews with him a couple of years ago about his time in WWII with the 111th, which Ed posted on YouTube. We showed a video of one of the interviews at a reception in St. Dogmaels, Wales, in June 2014 at an event marking the 70th D-Day anniversary. That was where the men were billeted in the months before they left for Normandy. The local people loved hearing Ray remember the good times the men spent in their village.

We are all so blessed that these four men—friends and comrades of our fathers—are still with us today. To all four, we wish continued happiness and good health!

Veterans Day 2015

Posted: November 11, 2015 in Uncategorized

It is easy, in everyday life, to forget about our fathers and uncles and grandfathers who fought in WWII. That’s why we need days of remembrance like today to remind us of their gift to us.

Many of the men of the 111th spent five long years preparing for, serving in, and cleaning up after that awful war. And yet few of them ever talked about it afterwards, as most of us know. They knew what they as a nation had accomplished and they were proud. But then they continued on, so that we, their children, could enjoy our everyday lives.

We have talked recently with two of our four survivors, Art Brooks and John Raisler. Art just turned 98, and John is 95. Both are living in Florida and doing well. John told me something I hadn’t heard before. He described how even with a war going on, every job the 111th did required a work order. He recalled one time when he had to climb into a foxhole to get a signature on one. At the end of the war, the 111th received a special commendation from the Army: the unit had completed more work orders than any other ordnance company during the war. They were a hard-working bunch. “The men always stuck together, it was a good outfit,” John recalls. “I’ll always remember them.”

And yesterday we were thrilled to hear from the granddaughter of a 111th soldier whose family we had been unable to find in our searches of the past two years. Tess Stanhaus wrote to this blog to tell us how glad she was to find the story of her grandfather, Lavergne Stanhaus of New Baden, Illinois. He was the mess sergeant for the 111th throughout the war. John Raisler remembers him well—“a nice guy, very friendly, would always stop to talk to you.” Tess sent this photo along; she thinks it might have been a wedding photo.

Lavergne Stanhaus and his bride Pearl

Lavergne Stanhaus and his bride, Pearl

From February 1944 until June 7, 1944, the men of the 111th lived and worked at Albro Castle, in St.Dogmaels, Wales. The name is rather ironic — it wasn’t a castle at all, but a workhouse, or poorhouse, that took in the area’s destitute from 1840 until 1935. In the months preceding the D-Day invasion, the U.S. Army had to work hard to find quarters for more than a million service members in the United Kingdom, and obviously a place like Albro Castle fit the bill.

My father, 111th sergeant Bill Johnson, occasionally talked about living at Albro and meeting my Welsh mother at a local dance in a nearby village. And although I don’t recall him mentioning it, he returned there in 1983, nearly 40 years later, to take a look. I know this because I recently came across a stash of his old photos. Had it not been for our work to learn more about the 111th, I would have not known why he took these three pictures or where this place was:

Albro Castle, 1983, front view

Albro Castle, 1983, front view

Structures in rear

Structures in rear

Albro Castle courtyard, 1983

Albro Castle courtyard, 1983

On June 6, 2013, my husband, Ed, and I decided to find Albro, a story we related in our very first posting on this blog. The discovery we made that day — all because of the preservation efforts of its owners, Peter and Tracy Newland — sparked our entire project. We owe them a lot. Last June, we did a posting on this blog about how we spent two lovely evenings with them commemorating the 70th anniversary of D-Day and role that Albro Castle played in WWII. (When my dad revisited Albro in 1983, he most probably met Peter Newland’s mother.)

So I am pleased to tell you that if you would like the experience of living in the same place that your father or grandfather did just before the Normandy invasion, you can do that. Check it out here: http://www.albrocastle.co.uk/

Tracy and Peter have worked hard to turn part of Albro’s main building into two charming and comfy two holiday apartments: one has room for 12 to 14 people, while the other is meant for a couple or small family. We can assure you that today Albro Castle is much more attractive and comfortable than it was when the 111th men lived there. The stunning Pembrokeshire Coast Path is close by; this part of West Wales is a gorgeous and fascinating place to visit, especially in the spring and summer.

imageIt’s been an exciting two days here in Wales. On Thursday, the daughter of one of the 111th men, Sue Goerges Higginbotham, arrived from the States with her husband, Don. Sue’s father was Harold Goerges, a sergeant and a member of the group that repaired artillery guns. Harold passed away in San Antonio in 1999.

Sue Goerges in front of Albro Castle, June 5, 2014

Sue Goerges in front of Albro Castle, June 5, 2014

If you recall, this whole project got started last June when Ed and I decided to find Albro Castle–where the 111th men lived for four months in 1944 before leaving for Omaha Beach–last year, coincidentally on June 6. There, the co-owner, Tracy Newland, took us upstairs to one of the rooms to show us graffiti she had uncovered. There we saw the names of two of my Dad’s best friends for life: John Andrews and Harold Goerges. They wrote this on the night of June 6, 1944, as they prepared to leave Wales for the war in Europe.

image

In a story too long to tell here, Harold’s daughter Sue came with us Thursday evening, June 5, to Albro so she could see her dad’s writing on the wall. In a fun twist, Tracy had never scraped the paint off the final “s”, thinking his last name was George. So that night, Tracy handed Sue an exacto knife, and Sue, in quite an emotional few minutes, carefully scraped away the rest of the paint to reveal the “s” and finish the job Tracy began 10 years ago. Afterwards, Tracy and Pete and their lovely daughters, Brook and Willow, treated us all to a wonderful dinner.

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Dancing and having 1940s fun in St. Dogmaels last night

Then last night, the 70th anniversary of D-Day, the heritage group in the village of St. Dogmaels, where Albro Castle is located, threw a great dinner dance in the village hall, with a live band playing 1940s music and with many of the 125 or so guests dressed up in period attire, including WWII military uniforms

The best part was two of our five survivors, who stole the show and made the evening meaningful.

image

From left, Peter Newland, Sue Goerges, Tracy Newland, and Glenn Booker, our friend from Barry, Wales

To kick the off the dinner, the guests watched a video interview that Terry Cross made of his father, 111th survivor Ray Cross. Ray, who is 95, talked about his memories of Albro and St Dogmaels, and the local people loved it. After the video, I gave a short talk about the 111th and how they left the village that night exactly 70 years ago in their convoys to Southampton. I also thanked the villagers on behalf of the men for the kind treatment they received here. A few remembered our men, all fondly.

Then near the end of the evening, we Skyped with 111th survivor John Raisler, who is 94 and lives in Florida. It was great and the crowd gave him a big cheer and applause, yelling out thanks to him and his fellow soldiers. (We will have to post a photo later because Ed took only video and we have to figure how to make a still.)

Marjorie Forster, looking at our book for pictures of old friends

Marjorie Forster, looking at our book for pictures of old friends

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Marjorie’s granddaughter, wearing Marjorie’s original wedding dress–dyed red–and her uncle, Hugh Forster in an RAF Uniform his father wore at his wedding to Marjorie.

As we were all leaving around 11pm, one Welsh man stopped me to express his thanks for the American troops coming to Europe. He said Britain would not have survived with them. This same message had been conveyed many times during the evening by other attendees. It was an unforgettable evening.

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Me, center, next to Angharad Stobbs, project manager for the St Dogmaels world wars project, and her daughter in red, her son , and her daughter’s friend. The girls helped us get Skype going that evening.

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Today we were treated to a tour of the area around Albro Castle, where the men of the 111th lived during the first half of 1944, before they set off for Normandy on June 6. Our guide was Mr. Ian Gollop, a community council member and retired school headmaster.

Ian Gollop of St. Dogmaels, Wales

Ian Gollop of St. Dogmaels, Wales

We started by walking up a wooded path to an abandoned quarry, now completely overgrown, where the men parked their larger vehicles. From there we continued over to the driveway leading up to Albro but did wish to drop in on the Newlands unannounced.

We walked back to Ian’s house, which is on the road that runs next to the Teifi River estuary, before it enters the Irish Sea. The water was a shimmering emerald green today, under partly cloudy skies. Ian drove us up a roughly paved lane through the woods to a spot where we could enter a farm field and take pictures of Albro from the hill above, something the men did 70 years ago.

Ed in the field above Albro Castle today

Ed in the field above Albro Castle today

Albro Castle, St. Dogmael's, Wales, spring  1944

Albro Castle, St. Dogmael’s, Wales, spring 1944

 

Our last stop was to locate the tiny path past a whitewashed cottage that was the scene of another photo one of the men took. It appears on page 22 of my book. It is not a path to Albro, but possibly a back way into the village from Albro. Ian told us the cottage, now ramshackle, was once the place where the local baker garaged his delivery truck.

Ed on the same lane, bakery now falling apart, today

Ed on the same lane, bakery garage now falling apart, today

Men of the 111th walking up a lane in St Dogmaels, 1944

Men of the 111th walking up a lane in St Dogmaels, 1944

Then we three had a wonderful lunch in the Ferry Inn, overlooking the estuary. This is the closest pub to Albro and was visited by many of the 111th men. In 1944, Ian was a boy of 9 and lived in the house next door to the pub, and he remembers our GIs. Today the pub is greatly enlarged and has a very good restaurant, but in 1944 today’s bar area made up the entire pub, carved into four little rooms, as Ian explained to us.

 

Ian Gollop explains how the Ferry Inn pub looked in 1944

Ian Gollop explains how the Ferry Inn pub looked in 1944

The Ferry Inn today

The Ferry Inn today

V-E Day Commemoration, 2014

Posted: May 8, 2014 in Uncategorized
Tags:
V-E Day, May 8, 1945: the men in a bar in Neubeckum, Germany,. Man in front on left with cigarette is Roger Rickon; man in center middle, face partially in shadow, is Frank Turner; man in back row, fifth from left below man standing, is Joe Sedlacek

V-E Day, May 8, 1945: the men in a bar in Neubeckum, Germany,. Man in front on left with cigarette is Roger Rickon; man directly behind Rickon on far left of photo is Stanley Carlson; man in center middle, face partially in shadow, is Frank Turner; man in back row, fifth from left below man standing, is Joe Sedlacek.. The man in the front row, far right, may be Curt Vosz.

Today is V-E Day, Victory in Europe Day, marking the joyful day in 1945 when the German government officially surrendered to the Allies and ended WWII in Europe. If you recall, we have a great photo, sent to us by two children of the men, of the 111th’s celebration in a bar in Neubeckum, Germany, where they were when they got word that their part of the war was over.

That day was also 111th soldier Roger Rickon’s 21st birthday. And today, Roger turns 90! Happy birthday, Roger. (See him at the far left, near the front, in the photo.)

Ed and I are now in France, slowly making our way to Wales  to attend the D-Day  commemoration in St. Dogmaels  in early June. Today we went to Monpazier, France, in the Dordogne region, to attend  a French V-E Day celebration. We thought about how happy the men must have been that day in Germany 69 years ago.

It is safe to say that we were the only Americans in attendance, and that we didn’t understand a word of the speeches made.

V-E Day ceremony, Monpazier, France, 2014

V-E Day ceremony, Monpazier, France, 2014