JOHN H. SLADE Ann’s father was a character. He had a great sense of humor and a joke for every occasion. He told his stories so many times that I know them by heart….and I repeat them often even today. His grandchildren called him Pop. Before long some of his son-in-laws were calling him Pop too. I never did. While I was dating Ann and until the grandchildren came along, he had always been Mr. Slade. Sometimes when I talk about him now, I’ll refer to him as John H. The fellow who told me all the stories and jokes was John H and Mr. Slade. To me, Pop was reserved for his grandchildren. Mr. Slade was an infantry soldier in World War II. He told me when the war started that he had a deferment because he was a farmer. He said he would go to town and there would be no young men there….only old men, women, and children. He said one day he went home and told his Daddy that he was going to volunteer for the Army. He saw it as his duty. After basic training he was sent to North Carolina for infantry training. He said that he was trying to write his mother a note the first night he was there. He was in a long tent with many bunks. There was only he and the drill Sergeant that first night before everyone else arrived. Mr. Slade said he had sat down on a box under the only little light bulb in the tent and was writing home when the Sergeant walked up and switched the light off without saying a word. Mr. Slade said he fumbled around in the dark trying to put things away and get in bed. He used to say about the Sergeant’s action, “He didn’t have to do that…he could have told me to finish up”. As fate would have it Mr. Slade would earn a battlefield commission during the war, making him an officer…. and guess who he had assigned to him as the Sergeant of his first platoon……that same guy that turned the light out on him. Mr. Slade said he walked over to the Sergeant and of course now the Sergeant had to salute Mr. Slade. Mr. Slade said he asked the guy if he remembered a soldier who was trying to write home when the Sergeant turned the light out on him. The guy said he didn’t remember but Mr. Slade said he told him, “That soldier was me”. Mr. Slade said he told the Sergeant, “I’m going to make your ass suck wind now”. I don’t know exactly what that term means but I would expect the poor old fellow wished he hadn’t turned the light off on Mr. Slade. When Mr. Slade was shipped over seas he landed in France. How many times did I hear him say, “I walked from Marcais, France to Stuttgart, Germany”. He said he sailed to France on the George Washington. He said he came home on a ‘liberty ship’. I suppose when the war ended we had produced so many ships that there just wasn’t any need in naming each one. Mr. Slade told me many stories about the war. Once he and three other men dug them a hole and huddled together there for the night to escape the freezing weather and snowfall. Mr. Slade said when they awoke the next morning that Germans surrounded them on three sides. The Germans had moved in during the night and didn’t know Mr. Slade and the others were there. Mr. Slade said the Germans were eating breakfast and talking. Mr. Slade told his men that they were going to get up and walk in a normal pace toward a wooded area where there were no Germans. Mr. Slade said he got out his handkerchief and put it in his coat pocket. He said he told his men if they were recognized as Americans, that he would pull the handkerchief out and they would surrender. Mr. Slade said one by one they got up and as calmly as they could and walked toward the woods. He said he was the last one and when he reached the woods they all took off running. Mr. Slade said something like, “We took off like rabbits”. The Germans never realized they were Americans. It was his nature to take on responsibility. He told me that when he was a young boy it was his job to get up before everyone else and build fires in the fireplaces. There is no telling how many American men’s lives he saved during the war. He told me of an occasion when a man on each side of him was wounded. He said one had been hit with shrapnel beside his nose. Mr. Slade said the blood was spurting out every time the man’s heart beat. He said the guy on the other side was bleeding from several wounds. Mr. Slade said he took out his handkerchief, and put it on the guys nose wound. Mr. Slade said he told him to keep pressure on it. Seems like he said he rolled over to the other guy and injected him with a morphine syringe because he was in so much pain. Mr. Slade said he pointed at an opening between two rocks and told the two guys that he would provide cover fire while they crawled out between those two rocks. He said, “I told him to keep pressure on his nose so he wouldn’t bleed to death”. I remember very clearly the day he told me that. We were out by the pool house…we were sitting on the truck tailgate. He was quiet for several minutes looking off in the distance. He finally said, “I’ve often wondered if those two boys made it out”. If I had only realized that I could have helped him with that worry by simply saying, “I bet they did, Mr. Slade…I bet they made it because of your help”. But I didn’t. I wish I had. I could tell that really bothered him. Mr. Slade told me lots of war stories over the years but only recently did I realize that not once did he tell me about killing anybody. I know he did… it was war. It was kill or be killed. I don’t think he cared to brag about it though. One afternoon, Mr. Slade was again sitting on the tailgate of his truck where he usually relaxed on summer afternoons. As I approached the truck he raised his arm in the German salute. “Hail Hitler”, he said. At first I thought it very unusual. Then with a smile he said, “We used to practice just in case we lost”. He was a pistol ball. The war story that he repeated most often was an incident when the Americans and the Germans were fighting so close that only a stone wall separated them. Mr. Slade said a German soldier stuck his head through a hole in the wall right in front of where Mr. Slade was crouched. Mr. Slade said, “I shot him right through there” and he would point with his finger to the side of his mouth. “I bet he never enjoyed another steak”, he would say. Only now do I think I understand why he told that story so often. Mr. Slade could have easily killed the German soldier. He had to do something. Mr. Slade shot the guy and certainly put him out of the war but he didn’t really want to kill him. John H. was a good man in a very bad war. He was telling me and at the same time reminding himself that he didn’t kill the man. He could have but he didn’t. I believe, he wanted to remind us both that when he had the chance ……. that he chose goodness even while engaging the enemy in that terrible war. During the war Mr. Slade had received several promotions moving him all the way to Captain. After the war ended, Mr. Slade’s unit was assigned to guard General Eisenhower. The Americans had captured a mansion in the German countryside and General Eisenhower used it as his headquarters. Mr. Slade said the Major in charge of the security compound around the mansion was a real jerk. Often pulling soldier’s weekend passes with little justification. All the guys despised this Major. Once the Major pulled Mr. Slade’s weekend pass because the Major said Mr. Slade hadn’t followed orders exactly. Mr. Slade didn’t think it was justified. There was nothing Mr. Slade could do, so he lost his free weekend. Mr. Slade said he decided to get even with this S.O.B. Mr. Slade related to me that standing orders from command were…. not to let anyone through the gate without showing their identification. He said this Major never showed any I.D.and would tell the jeep driver to drive on when he approached the gate. Mr. Slade had a plan. Mr. Slade said one of the guards under his command was what he described as a “tough character”. Mr. Slade said he called this guard into his office and told the guard he wanted the guard to do him a favor. Mr. Slade told the guard if he would do him this favor, he could have the next weekend off. The guard agreed. Mr. Slade told the guard that the Major had gone to town and was expected back within the hour. Mr. Slade told the guard to go take over the guard post immediately. Mr. Slade said he reminded the guard that standing orders from command stipulated that everyone, no matter what their rank, was to show identification at the gate. Mr. Slade also reminded the guard that orders further stipulated that the guard had orders to shoot anyone who refused to show their identification. The guard said he understood…..now don’t get ahead of me here. Mr. Slade said word quickly spread around the compound about the plan. Mr. Slade said every window in the mansion was crowded with soldiers waiting to see if the guard would stop the Major and ask for identification. Mr. Slade said when the Major’s jeep drove up to the gate; the guard saluted him with his rifle as he was trained to do. For those unfamiliar with a rifle salute, the soldier would snap to attention smartly placing his rifle diagonally from his waist across his chest with the stock of the weapon at his hip and the barrel extending across his shoulder. Mr. Slade said he heard the guard say, “Sir, I have to see your identification”. Of course the Major paid no attention and told his driver to drive on. Mr. Slade said before the driver could move the jeep, there was the sound of the guard ratcheting a shell into the firing chamber of his rifle. Mr. Slade said the guard leveled the rifle point blank at the Major and said, “Sir, I will see your identification before you pass through”. Mr. Slade said the Major was so nervous trying to get his identification card out… that he was shaking all over. He showed the guard the I.D. and the guard brought his rifle back to the salute stance and said, “Thank you Sir, you may pass through”. Mr. Slade said everybody in the mansion got a good laugh out of that…. slapping each other on the back. He said the Major was mad as a hornet. The Major called Mr. Slade into his office and gave him a good chewing out. The Major wanted to know who was in charge of making him show his I.D. Mr. Slade replied that he was….that he was following orders exactly. I asked Mr. Slade what did the Major do? Mr. Slade said there was nothing he could do. That Mr. Slade was, indeed, following orders by the book…..exactly. I asked Mr. Slade one time what did he think the guard would have done if the Major had not shown him his I.D. and when he ordered the driver to drive on, if the driver had done so. Mr. Slade replied that the guard would have shot both the Major and his driver “in a minute”… but Mr. Slade went on to say that he knew the Major had enough sense not to do that. What stories he recalled. The tale that we got the most enjoyment out of over the years…certainly my favorite….was the one about Grasso. It seems that during basic training a young man from New Jersey whose last name was Grasso, was among Mr. Slade’s fellow recruits. Mr. Slade said Grasso wasn’t the brightest star in the sky. Grasso would tell how he wished he were back in New Jersey on the trash truck route he worked. Mr. Slade said one day his unit was on a ten-mile march with full backpacks and combat gear. Every hour they were allowed a ten-minute break to rest and smoke a cigarette. Mr. Slade said he and the other men would kneel down on a knee or sit on their helmet…but not Grasso. Mr. Slade said Grasso would untie his boots and take them off, take off his backpack to use for a pillow and lie down as if he were having a long sleep. Mr. Slade said when the drill Sergeant ordered the unit to continue the march, that Grasso’s shoe laces were tripping him up, his back pack was halfway on and hanging between his legs, and he was mumbling under his breath about the whole issue. Mr. Slade said shortly thereafter a jeep came driving up with the Colonel in it. When this happens in the military, the drill Sergeant stops the unit, orders the unit to attention, and the drill Sergeant salutes the Colonel for the whole unit. Well, Mr. Slade said Grasso was still fumbling with his boots and his backpack when the Colonel spoke to the unit. The Colonel said, “How are you men doing”, which would ordinarily have been answered by the Sergeant….probably something like, “Fine Sir, thank you”. But before the Sergeant could reply to the Colonel, ol’ Grasso spoke up. He said, “We ain’t doing so good….we’re walking….but you look like you’re doing OK…you’re riding around in that jeep”. Of course everybody was stunned and, as a matter of fact, Mr. Slade never told me exactly what happened next while they were out in the field. Mr. Slade did say that as soon as they got back to the post that Grasso was given a “blue serge suit” and a bus ticket for home. Mr. Slade said as he was leaving the post, Grasso said, “I can’t wait to get back to the garbage route”. During all the years I knew John H. any time a conversation turned to laziness or stupidity, we would always mention Grasso and have a good chuckle. It happened a lot….good times. Every Thanksgiving after the blessing, Mr. Slade would always say something like, “Forty three years ago those Germans stole my hot Thanksgiving turkey”. He said the Germans captured the truck that was bringing them their Thanksgiving dinner and he ended up eating K-rations. I think about him every Thanksgiving when we sit down for dinner. Ann and I went to see the movie “Saving Private Ryan” when it was first released. As the movie progressed, I realized that Captain Miller who was played by Tom Hanks was just a normal, everyday guy. He had been called on by his country to go fight in a war. He took no pleasure in killing people. It dawned on me how much Mr. Slade was like the character Tom Hanks was playing. He was in a position he didn’t much like, but he was going to do his very best to see the job through. As you are reading this, if you haven’t seen the movie, make a date to see it. I believe it’s as close to knowing what Mr. Slade went through as we can get. It will give you a sense of appreciation for his sacrifice and admiration for him being able to come back home and live a somewhat normal life after the war. It didn’t occur to me until the grave scene at Normandy at the end of the movie “Saving Private Ryan”, that the character Tom Hanks played was named John. H. also. I thought it very poignant because of the similarity to Mr. Slade’s character and the character of the soldier in the movie. As long as I knew him, Mr. Slade was always a very giving and forgiving person…almost to a fault. I know he let a lot of my shortcomings slide. I am very proud and fond of saying that John H. was one of the best friends I ever had and one of the best examples of a husband and father that I have ever known. He taught me a lot about how to act… how to live in order to be fulfilled at being both. Over the years I heard older members of the family say that when Mr. Slade got back from the war, he spent much of the next year over at the cabin at Lake Blackshear. I imagine he was trying to forget and trying to calm down. For as long as I knew him, he loved going to the lake. Maybe part of that reason was that he found solace there after the war. Maybe it had become the resting place for his soul. I miss him a lot....
Posted on: Mon, 11 Nov 2013 15:33:04 +0000
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