14 ~ Aboard the Santa Fe Ranger to Chaplain School
On Sunday, August 20, I preached my last sermon as pastor of First Baptist Church, New London. I reflected on God’s blessings. We had, during my ministry, 164 new members to the church, or an average two per Sunday. That gave us a good feeling as we turned our face toward the future. I arranged for my wife and boy to stay at Somerville, Texas, with my parents, Mr. and Mrs. S. V. Morriss. My father had been transferred to Somerville, Texas. He was an agent of the Railway Express (Agency). Because of a heart attack, he had moved from my childhood home in Tyler and became the railway agent in that small, Central Texas town. The express company accommodated him so that his duties were lighter. I also arranged for the Army to move us there.
~ Sooner than I realized it, August 25, 1944, had arrived. I was in Somerville, Texas, with my family and my father and mother. It was a special day, for we observed our sixth wedding anniversary. It was also the day I learned Paris, France, had been liberated from the Nazi occupation.
~ The French 2nd Armored Division under the command of General Philippe Leclerc was the first to enter Paris. There was celebration in Paris. The allies had hoped the Resistance fighting under the French forces of the interior could liberate the city of Paris, for it would be good French morale. It would save precious ammunition for the attack on Germany and might spare the beautiful city of Paris from needless destruction. Paris was taken with little ammunition used, and the city was not harmed. The military governor, German General Dietrich von Choltitz failed to carry out the order of Hitler to make Paris burn when he surrendered. He preserved the beauty of the city. The next day the U. S. Army GI’s were scheduled to march into Paris. It was also a special day with me, because I was to board the train and be separated from my family for a long while. I left Somerville, Texas, at a quarter past midnight and headed for my first assignment at Fort Devens, Massachusetts. Paris had fallen, and I supposed they heard I was on my way.Soon the day came for my departure. I cannot describe the emotion I felt as my father, mother, wife, and young son saw me off on the train. I had an empty feeling that would not go away as the train swayed and rumbled through the darkness, taking me away to war. As The Ranger (Atchison, Topeka, and Santa Fe Railroad) sped through the night, a thousand-and-one thoughts flashed through my mind. Finally, I fell asleep.
~ When I opened my eyes I found that we had come through the night from Summerville, Texas to Ft. Worth. I discovered that there was a difference in being a soldier. I asked the porter about breakfast. I had not yet dressed. He told me I would have to wait until they finished serving a load of soldiers. After putting on my uniform, I sat waiting. A military policeman came through. He asked, “Has the lieutenant been to breakfast?” I answered, “No.” He answered, “You may eat now.” I questioned him, “But I am not with the soldiers that are now eating.” “That’s quite all right; this way please.” So I followed him. The car was crowded, but I was ushered to a table shared by three enlisted men. After being seated the waiter came and asked, “You want a G.I.?” I didn’t answer not knowing what he meant. He meant a “Government-Issue” breakfast. He said, “One dollar please.” I felt the price of breakfast was a little more than I would have spent, but, being a rookie, I acted as if I knew what I was doing and felt good that I was getting to eat while the civilians had to wait. I later learned that civilians paid eighty-one cents for the same breakfast.
~ When at the close of the meal I requested some jelly, the waiter explained that it did not come with a GI meal. Then he took a second look at me and said, “Why, you’re the chaplain; yes Sir, chaplains get anything!” he said and later returned to the table with my jelly. However, this made me feel uncomfortable because the three GI’s sitting there had no jelly. I offered to share mine, but they refused.
~ I was learning early in my Army experience that a chaplain could be at home with the enlisted man or the officers, and because of the crosses on his uniform a chaplain could enjoy special respect from both groups. Early in my experiences as a chaplain I determined to keep in touch with my home base and send my wife regular letters. Really, as I look back on the events, she was much more regular in writing to me than I to her because my duties often took me away from the opportunity to write. However, at the beginning of my journey as a chaplain, I am amazed at my enthusiasm and my ignorance. I’ve just picked up the second letter that I had written my wife as I sped on my way to the chaplain school. It was the second day, and I had already written a letter about my experiences. I am holding a letter in my hand now, and I am almost embarrassed as I describe my situation on the train on Sunday morning:
“As I write this I sit before a folding table that the porter arranged for me to have and placed it in front of my #4 Pullman. I am still on The Ranger and still headed for the big city of Chicago. We are now three hours late. If we were on time I would not have been able to write you this letter for I would be changing trains in Chicago. I had a very enjoyable night last night. I slept fine. I found that the upper berth did not keep me awake like the lower birth [had the night before]. I suppose I was used to the rattle of the train (or perhaps the hard mattress you and I had been sleeping on just corresponded better to the pad in the upper). . . nevertheless I made it fine.”
~ As I now read the letter I had written to my wife, I am embarrassed because of my eagerness but most of all my ignorance. I note my geography indicates it, but bear in mind I had only been out of Texas once before! Therefore the words that I wrote should not seem strange. I continued,
“Oklahoma is very pretty (in parts) sometimes real low land and other times quite hilly. Kansas is quite similar except for the rolling farm land. Near Wichita we pass right by the place where they make the B-29s (the high powered planes that have been bombing Tokio), and I had the thrill of seeing one floating along in the sky . . . . boy they really are big. Just out of Wichita it began to get dark. The next stop was Newton, Kansas. I thought I would get off the street a little and boy oh boy—the weather was actually cold. You see it rained all day and really chilled things up. This morning as we pass through Illinois it is misty and murky. . . it looks chilly outside (I slept through Missouri). This morning I got up about eight fifteen . . . shaved . . . etc. and went up to the lounge car. It is really nice . . . big soft chairs that are fixed to swing around at any angle (like a swivel chair) as you look out of the full view windows. It is equipped with radio and it being Sunday I thrilled to a choir singing hymns. I stayed until the soldiers were through eating breakfast in order not to be charged with G.I. rate. You see I found last night at supper that Civilians got a lot better food at a cheaper rate. This morning I thought I would compare the breakfast with my $1.00 G.I. yesterday morning. I found that I got two eggs (fried up)—yesterday they were scrambled) two bacons . . . all the coffee I could drink . . . buttered toast . . . and orange marmalade . . . all for 85 cents. (Doesn’t that beat you!) . . . . (Right now the folks across the isle are fighting the Civil war all over again. One likes Texas and the other does not . . . of course they found that I was a Texan . . . . and I voiced my opinion. I indicated my homesickness even though I had just been away a short time.
~ Sentimentally I wrote to my wife, “I surely would like to be in church with you, but since I can’t I shall be looking forward to the very near future when I can again.” I indicated that everyone had been so nice to me and tried to encourage her. I even said, “Being a chaplain is grand, and I’m really happy. I’m sure when we get together again you are going to be happy again, and you will be proud that I turned in my application to become a chaplain. Suggee, I know my letter is kind of rambling . . . but I thought you would like to hear these little details. I hope you got my other letter sent to Somerville. . . (I am numbering them, and this is the 2nd letter). All my love goes to you and little Leckie. Kiss him a dozen times for me. Loving you always, Your honey.”
~ Thus, my correspondence my second day as a chaplain on my way to chaplain’s training. As I look back on some of my correspondence I am amazed at my wild-eyed curiosity and inexperience. Incidentally, while I thought my train would be three hours late coming into Chicago, it was later than that. In fact it was nearly five hours late. So, as a result of that I missed my train that was supposed to leave Chicago at 1:30 pm. I had to wait and catch one at 5:30 that afternoon, but I tried to use my time. I enjoyed being in Chicago for that period of time to see what I could. I was thrilled when I saw their elevated trains and got quite a kick out of watching them. Standing by one of the buildings, the tallest I could find, I began to whistle “There is a Fountain Filled with Blood.” I did it just for the novelty of it. Then I noticed it had a sign advertising their observation tower. The sign said “See Chicago for 25¢.” Well, my budget was sure in line with that, and I sure wanted to see Chicago. So, with a little time to spare, I zipped up its forty-five floors in an elevator and stepped out to behold a beautiful sight. This was the Great Chicago Board of Trade building where there was the largest grain market in the world, the place where trading in grain futures is carried on in the famous pit. It really gave me a thrill to see the city from that height. However, on that particular day Chicago had a deep fog, and I didn’t get to see very far. I understand on a clear day it is possible to view four states.
~ After a while 5:30 o’clock came and I boarded another train. Since I was from Texas, I was fascinated with the many tenement homes in Chicago as I observed them on our way out. I was hungry again. I made my way to the diner and had an interesting experience. As I sat down there was a drunk soldier just across the aisle from me. “Have a drink.” “No,” I said. “Ah, come on, have a dry Martini, father!” “No, I don’t indulge,” and with that we got along O.K.
~ Can you imagine? By the time I received my order in the diner, we were already in another state. As I looked out the window there was Gary, Indiana. I never realized it was so close to Chicago. From Gary we went to South Bend, Indiana. About then I discovered several other chaplains on the car. We laughed as we asked each other where we were going; all were headed for the same place, Fort Devens, the first chaplain school outside of Harvard. Among the chaplains on the train were one Assembly of God preacher, age 32, one Lutheran preacher, age 31, one Christian preacher, age 29, a northern Baptist, and myself. That’s a conglomeration, all of us in our twenties except two.
~ To add to the difficulty of the day, I discovered about the train that one car was going directly to Ayers–the one my chaplain friends were going to be on. But my ticket called for a bus route from Worcester, Massachusetts. Their car was switched at Albany, New York, and I went on to Worcester. I slept through the entire state of Pennsylvania. Our train hugged the water route of Lake Erie and Lake Ontario. In the morning, we were in Buffalo, New York, just a few miles from Niagara Falls.
~ My inexperience was evident when I wrote to my wife about the way the people built houses here. I wrote, “They just build one story right on top of another, and houses in the cities all over these high hills overlooking the canals. It’s a sight!” In my innocence, I didn’t realize that I was seen by others as a typical Texan. When I told people I was from Texas, they would smile and say Texans are really proud of their state, and they would politely inform me that there were forty-seven other states. In my mind they were right, and I would agree to that, but none were like my good old native Texas!