together as Reuben told Jenny his story—how he grew up, how he met Jerusha, his life away from the church when he shared an apartment with Bobby Halverson, and how they both joined the Marines when World War II broke out. One night he told Jenny the story of his basic training.
“After we enlisted, we had a few days to get ready, and then we shipped out for basic training. The trip to South Carolina wasn’t easy. I had an argument with your mama the day before we left, and I thought I would never see her again, so all the way to Parris Island I had a chip on my shoulder. I’m afraid I was a little cranky with your Uncle Bobby, and we almost got into a fistfight on the train.”
Jenny put down her pencil in surprise. “You and Uncle Bobby?”
“Yes, Uncle Bobby and me. Back in those days he was a pretty no-nonsense kind of guy, and he certainly didn’t want to put up with a sulky kid like me.”
“How soon after the attack on Pearl Harbor did you join the Marines?”
Reuben paused for a moment and then went on. “We left for basic training on Monday, January 2, 1942. We went down to the train station with our suitcases and climbed aboard a troop train along with a bunch of other guys—just kids. They thought they were on a picnic. They didn’t know that the moment they disembarked from the train, they would be stepping into an entirely different world.”
“Was it that bad, Papa?”
“Well, we arrived at Parris Island in the morning. We climbedoff the train and were just lounging around, laughing, smoking cigarettes—you know, just a bunch of kids away from home for the first time. A couple of jeeps pulled up, and these really tough-looking Marines piled out. Within a few minutes we were running as fast as we could from place to place while being screamed at and made to feel like the know-nothing kids we were. They ran us to the chow hall and then down to sickbay. We rolled up our sleeves and walked down a row of Navy corpsmen and doctors who stuck needles in our arms, checked our eyesight, and drew blood.”
Jenny scribbled furiously on her notepad.
“Then it was off to Administration for paperwork, dog tags, ID cards, allotments, service record books, and the all-important serial number. On the way between the meal and the dog tags, we were introduced to the base barbers, who buzzed us bald and sent us on our way. Quite a shock for a somewhat vain young man who thought his long dark hair made him look like a movie star.”
Jenny snickered at the image.
Reuben looked at her. “What’s funny about that?”
“Oh, Papa, it’s just that I can’t imagine what you must have looked like with your head shaved. And were you really that vain?”
“Yes, he was,” came Jerusha’s voice from the kitchen. “But rightly so, for he was the handsomest man I had ever seen.”
Reuben smiled.
“What happened next, Papa?”
“We received our new clothes, our rifles, and our first PX issue of personal items. Then they put us into platoons of between forty-eight and sixty men, and just when we thought it couldn’t get any worse, we met our drill instructor, Gunnery Sergeant Edgar F. Thompkins.”
“Is that the man you told me about—the one who saved you in the battle?” Jenny asked.
“Yes, he is. Ed Thompkins and I didn’t get along at first. He thoughtthat because I came from an Amish family, I wouldn’t fight when the going got tough. And I must admit I had my doubts. We were out on patrol one day, and a sniper killed one of our men. I was on point, so I was closest and had the clearest shot. When I got the guy in my sights, I couldn’t pull the trigger. Ed crawled alongside me and shot him. The noise next to my ear made me jump, and I pulled my trigger at the same time, so it looked like I shot him too. But I didn’t really, and Ed knew it. But he didn’t give me away.”
Reuben reached into his pocket and took out his wallet. He fished around in the back section and pulled out a piece of
“After we enlisted, we had a few days to get ready, and then we shipped out for basic training. The trip to South Carolina wasn’t easy. I had an argument with your mama the day before we left, and I thought I would never see her again, so all the way to Parris Island I had a chip on my shoulder. I’m afraid I was a little cranky with your Uncle Bobby, and we almost got into a fistfight on the train.”
Jenny put down her pencil in surprise. “You and Uncle Bobby?”
“Yes, Uncle Bobby and me. Back in those days he was a pretty no-nonsense kind of guy, and he certainly didn’t want to put up with a sulky kid like me.”
“How soon after the attack on Pearl Harbor did you join the Marines?”
Reuben paused for a moment and then went on. “We left for basic training on Monday, January 2, 1942. We went down to the train station with our suitcases and climbed aboard a troop train along with a bunch of other guys—just kids. They thought they were on a picnic. They didn’t know that the moment they disembarked from the train, they would be stepping into an entirely different world.”
“Was it that bad, Papa?”
“Well, we arrived at Parris Island in the morning. We climbedoff the train and were just lounging around, laughing, smoking cigarettes—you know, just a bunch of kids away from home for the first time. A couple of jeeps pulled up, and these really tough-looking Marines piled out. Within a few minutes we were running as fast as we could from place to place while being screamed at and made to feel like the know-nothing kids we were. They ran us to the chow hall and then down to sickbay. We rolled up our sleeves and walked down a row of Navy corpsmen and doctors who stuck needles in our arms, checked our eyesight, and drew blood.”
Jenny scribbled furiously on her notepad.
“Then it was off to Administration for paperwork, dog tags, ID cards, allotments, service record books, and the all-important serial number. On the way between the meal and the dog tags, we were introduced to the base barbers, who buzzed us bald and sent us on our way. Quite a shock for a somewhat vain young man who thought his long dark hair made him look like a movie star.”
Jenny snickered at the image.
Reuben looked at her. “What’s funny about that?”
“Oh, Papa, it’s just that I can’t imagine what you must have looked like with your head shaved. And were you really that vain?”
“Yes, he was,” came Jerusha’s voice from the kitchen. “But rightly so, for he was the handsomest man I had ever seen.”
Reuben smiled.
“What happened next, Papa?”
“We received our new clothes, our rifles, and our first PX issue of personal items. Then they put us into platoons of between forty-eight and sixty men, and just when we thought it couldn’t get any worse, we met our drill instructor, Gunnery Sergeant Edgar F. Thompkins.”
“Is that the man you told me about—the one who saved you in the battle?” Jenny asked.
“Yes, he is. Ed Thompkins and I didn’t get along at first. He thoughtthat because I came from an Amish family, I wouldn’t fight when the going got tough. And I must admit I had my doubts. We were out on patrol one day, and a sniper killed one of our men. I was on point, so I was closest and had the clearest shot. When I got the guy in my sights, I couldn’t pull the trigger. Ed crawled alongside me and shot him. The noise next to my ear made me jump, and I pulled my trigger at the same time, so it looked like I shot him too. But I didn’t really, and Ed knew it. But he didn’t give me away.”
Reuben reached into his pocket and took out his wallet. He fished around in the back section and pulled out a piece of
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