roysmith407218

I was close to my Grandfather, most of my childhood he lived with us in a room adjacent to mine. I spent years listening to some of his stories. You see, gramp (as we kids called him) was for the most part a quiet person, but when he spoke, needless to say it was always interesting. I remember sitting up with him nights watching movies, we never talked much, but I always knew I was in good company. He moved into his own place when I got to be about 15 and by the time I was 18 I was living in the apartment adjacent to his. I believe it was that short 6 months we lived in that duplex that I got him to tell me more and more stories. We took all of his reel to reel home movies and played them on a screen and I videotaped it with my video cassette recorder. Gramp had hours of black and white home videos and we spent a lot of time recording them onto VCR. I learned a lot about my family from him during that time, but it was just before his death in 1996 that I learned the most interesting part. You see gramp became ill and was no longer able to live alone. He moved in with my parents so they could care for him. Late in 1995 the family decided to clean out his apartment and get rid of a bunch of stuff, some things where thrown out, some things given to family members and some things kept safe. I was appointed by my father to make sure none of the family gave my aunt, whom was left in charge of his estate, any trouble. I really didn't want to be there, I could care less about material belongings, I cared more about my grandfather, but my dad asked me to be there to watch over his sister, so I went. While watching them clean and fill trash bags full of stuff, I noticed a black book get tossed into a large trash bag. This book looked interesting to me, it appeared to be an old style ledger of a sort, you know the type that had a semi-hard cover that was black and cloth. The book was thin, but had lined paper inside and what appeared to be penciled in handwriting. Needless to say I volunteered to take that bag out to the dumpster and on my way there pulled the book out and tossed it onto the dashboard of my old tuck. It wasn't until a week or so later, I was cleaning out my truck and I found that old book, I had forgotten all about it and left it in there. I sat in the driver’s seat, flipped open to the first page and started to read “In the month of 1944 I got my invitation to go to Providence R.I. and take an examination to see if I was fit for military service”, boy did that peak my interest and I started reading faster. Gramp never talked to me about his military career, I knew he was in WWII and in the army, I even heard rumor that he was in the Philippines at the time, but he never told me about it. I read on and was astonished to find that it was a diary and firsthand account written in January of 1946 by my grandfather and depicts his 15 month journey during WWII. After enjoying the read, I typed out word for word (even misspelled words) the entire story, printed out copies for each of his kids (and one for myself) then I sealed the book in plastic and put it away where it still is to this day. In 1997 I moved with my wife and kids to Georgia, before leaving we spent the day at my parent’s house and I got to say goodbye to my grandfather. Being as he was, he really didn't like the goodbye thing, so he tried like hell to avoid it by falling asleep about ½ hour before we were supposed to leave. He stayed sleeping for 2 hours, but I wasn't letting him off the hook. We postponed our road trip that few hours and waited for him to wake. When he woke he looked right at me and said “are you still here” of course I told him I wasn't letting him off the hook that easy. I spent about an hour with him then I got up to leave, instinctively I looked at him and said “well, I’ll see ya later” and he responded “No you wont, you know you wont”. On July 3rd we arrived at my uncle and aunt’s house in Clarkesville G.A. where we stayed for about a week or so until we found ourselves a home. As soon as we got settled in and got the phone turned on I called to talk to my grandfather. He was getting sicker and sicker each day, I called every day at about 5:10pm when I got home from work, I got off work at 5 and only lived around the corner, so as soon as I got in I would call and talk to my parents and Gramp. One day I called and my mom answered the phone. I asked “How’s he doin” Mom told me he wasn't doing too good, that there was not much time left. I could hear her on the phone talking to him “dad, hey dad, Roy’s on the phone” then she told me he looked up at her, then closed his eyes again. I talked to mom about how he was for about a minute, then asked her “do me a favor, tell him I love him” I could hear mom, as I still can hear her, word for word to this day and it’s been nearly 15 years. “dad, dad, Roy’s on the phone, dad can you hear me? Roy’s on the phone, he wants me to tell you he loves you, Roy said he loves you.” Pause “Roy, I gotta let you go, I’ll call you back” That ring tone chimed and to this day indicates the end to me; it was the last thing I heard as my grandfather passed from this life. Mom told me later that when she told Gramp that I said I loved him, he looked at her, took a breath and passed silently. I like to believe he waited on my call; I like to believe that telling him I loved him gave him some peace at the time, but who knows. To me, death is not the end of a person, as long as your love for them is strong and your memory of them is strong, then their life still has and will always have a significant meaning. Grandpa Passed on Labor day weekend Friday Aug 29th 1997 at 5:15pm since then his words and wisdom have rung strong in my ears, he was a significant part of my life, and will always be a significant part of who I am. Because of this, I would like to keep his memory alive by sharing his diary of his WWII military service with you, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. In Loving Memory of Kenneth Andrew Smith. ...more