Root series comes to a close
By DEB BENTLY
Staff Writer
The document is easy to find online: “America’s Wars.” A summary by the Department of Veterans Affairs which lists the number of soldiers who served in our country’s conflicts from the American Revolution to the worldwide war on terror.
The numbers are too large for genuine comprehension, but they imply story after story of sacrifice, determination, and patriotism. Vietnam: 8,744,000. Korea: 5,720,000. World War II: 16,112,000.
As shown by the stories of the Root brothers, published the last few weeks in this paper, each soldier joined the military, or a specific branch of the military, for his or her own reasons. In the case of those who were drafted, they had little choice, but even then they made the choice to serve.
Waseca area resident Norman Gehring, 92, is a contemporary of the Root brothers whose stories have recently been published in this paper. A farm boy like them, he was their cousin and remembers spending many childhood Sundays visiting on the Hound Street farm.
He recalls the day he learned Pearl Harbor had been bombed: Age 10, he was too young to truly understand, but vividly remembers his mother’s tears and heartbreak. He also remembers something of Esther Root’s distress as she worried about her sons so far away in the world’s largest conflict. “Three of her sons away at once like that,” he observes, “of course she was upset.”
At least from the perspective of a young farm boy, the big war was soon over. The work–caring for livestock, raising crops, tending the garden–that went on and on. By the time Norman was of an age to worry about the draft, the Korean conflict had come along. In 1952, he had already finished country school, was working alongside his father, Chester, and brother Darold to keep the family farm running, and had become engaged to his future wife, Donna, Chester had arranged for Norm to be “deferred,” that is, to keep him from being placed on the draft roles.
But Norm was having none of that. “He signed up anyway,” remembers Donna. “And it wasn’t much later, he was drafted.”
For the next two years he worked in a munitions “dump” in Korea, receiving trainloads of shells and explosives, then organizing truckloads of supplies for delivery to various locations. It was a gigantic operation, with eight buildings spread wide apart for security reasons. The Korean army supplied laborers to help with loading, unloading, maintenance, and more.
Norm says his objective was to serve his two years, then go home and farm. “I always knew I would be a farmer,” he says simply. In the meantime, though, he was given a wider perspective. He remembers watching the Korean farmers making use of rustic equipment as they waded through paddies to plant their rice. He remembers seeing the poverty and hunger experienced by Korea’s poor. And he recalls working with conscripted workers who had been “picked up by the soldiers off the street” and told they now worked for the army.
Donna remembers what it was like at home, never sure what news would come. Now and then she would get some pictures–R&R in Japan, the guys in the tent horsing around. But she also recalls the news her family received about her brother, Victor–an army medic who was badly wounded in the leg and had been transferred back to a hospital in Texas.
“There was plenty to worry about,” she says.
As the three-year Korean conflict closed, soldiers returned and life continued–but it was changed. Norm remembers that, when he left in ‘52 his family was still using a thrashing machine at harvest time. When he returned, combines had become more common. One of 5 children himself, and cousin to other families with 10 or more children, he and Donna raised a family of four. Having grown up on about 160 acres–which took a small army of children and family members to operate–he saw a time come when farms were thousands of acres in size. From a time when nearly every farm had milk cows, Waseca County now has fewer than 10 operating dairies.
There were other changes, too.
The war in Vietnam began in 1964 and continued until 1975. Norm shakes his head as he remembers how American soldiers returning from conflict were treated.
As the years passed, Norm and Donna got together with Norm’s army buddies–and the families that they raised–often enough to stay in touch. Hunting trips, visits to each others’ parts of the country, were regular enough so that they knew how their lives were developing. Each gathering was like old times, with the friends returning to the easy camaraderie and friendship formed during their years of service.
Nona Smith, sister to the Root brothers whose stories have recently been shared in this paper, remembers a time of change as well. Like Norm, she remembers a childhood of constant work to keep the farm operating, the garden growing, and the household running smoothly. She recalls heating water on the wood-burning stove to wash the laundry, which had to be sorted in piles because there were so many family members, many of whom worked in the field and barn.
In a family picture she points to herself standing in the middle of a row of girls ranging in age from young women to primary school age.
She mentions she is wearing her first-ever “store-bought” dress in the photo, and points to skirts and blouses worn by others which she either helped sew or once wore herself.
Now in her 90s, she, too, remembers a long sequence of change which seemed to begin with that large family, and the day her brothers began leaving to fight in the war.
Memorial Day was established in 1868 in honor of Civil War soldiers and their sacrifices. Based on the stories of veterans everywhere, there is a great deal to memorialize–the pain of departures and partings, eye-opening experiences, the joy of returns, the worries, the lifelong friendships, the endless waiting, the culminating moments, the stories to tell for a lifetime.