At that time, I was working with the Department of Agriculture in Lancaster, SC. There were four young Clemson graduates working in the office with me. One by one, they were called into service shortly after PEARL HARBOUR. The 77th Division was reactivated in March 1942 at Ft. Jackson and Johnnie was transferred there as one of the cadre for this reactivation. Dan Morgan, one of the young men from our office in Lancaster, was called into service at that time and sent to Fort Jackson and assigned to the same unit. About that time, I was transferred from the Lancaster County office to the State Office in Columbia. Dan invited me to some of the dances at the Officers' Club at Fort Jackson and introduced me to Johnnie. This was in the spring of 1942. We were married on December 31, 1942. Johnnie was sent to Louisiana for maneuvers on January 13, 1943.

While Johnnie was in Louisiana, I spent a week with him. I went by bus. He had sent me a map with detailed directions to a house where he had made arrangements for me to spend the week. I had given the map and directions to the bus driver and had asked him to let me off when we got there. After a while, he stopped in the middle of nowhere, it seemed. Really, it was just a rural highway crossing called "Many". A small white house was up on a hill. There was an MP out in the middle of the road. He hadn't shaved in gracious knows when, but he was very nice. He confirmed that I was at the right place. When I went to the house, the lady said that Johnnie had reserved a room for us for a week, but he had later told her that their leave had been canceled and he had sent a telegram informing me. The lady was very nice. She said it was OK for me to stay there. I really didn't know what to do. It was late in the afternoon. I thought of several says to contact Johnnie, but I elected to wait to see if he was going to try to contact me to see if I had arrived. He realized that I might not have received his message before I left. Sometime after dark, he came and what a relief that was! Even though their leave had been canceled, he was able to come in several times during the week. I had my meals there. The family was a farm family--good Christian people. They had one little boy. She had good plain meals. There was no indoor plumbing. This family's attitude was typical of most families during the war. They were eager to do everything they could for the GI's and their families. The weather was cold and it rained every day while I was there. Johnnie had a terrible cold and after I left he developed double pneumonia and was in the field hospital for several weeks. He was very ill. The field hospital consisted of tents out in the middle of a field with canvas army cots lined up inside. There was so much slush on the ground that the nurses and attendants wore rubber boots all the time.

When they were notified in June that they were to go to a dessert training exercise in Arizona, Johnnie wanted me to resign and go to Arizona, because he felt it was likely that the 77th Division would be sent overseas after the desert maneuvers. I was also aware of the war in the desert in North Africa, and it seemed quite likely that this would be the next destination of the division. I resigned my job with FHA and again went by bus to Louisiana--this time to a different location. I stayed with another family along with several other army wives until we left for Arizona. I went by car from Many, Louisiana with Dot Morgan and Captain Cinqumar's wife and four year old son. We rode four days and nights. We had to stop a lot along the way to get "pop" for the little boy. Believe me, this was a very tiring trip, especially with the little boy. We arrived late one afternoon at the Rose Bowl Motor Court and, just as we arrived, we saw a troop train moving through town. We went down to the station to see if it could possibly be the 77th Division train. Sure enough, it was one of them and Johnnie was on it.

I can see him now looking out of the window and talking. He didn't have on a top shirt--but a sleeveless undershirt. It was so hot. Dan Morgan was on another train that was ahead of this one, so Dot didn't get to see Dan. We stayed at the Rose Bowl for a short while. There were other wives there. Charlotte Masterson was among them. She also had a son. Later, Dot and I rented a house in Phoenix and Johnnie and Dan were able to come about every third weekend. We spent one night on the desert in sleeping bags. Later on, Dot decided to go out to Hila Bend to stay, but Johnnie didn't want me to go. It was such an out-of-the-way place, so I rented a room for a couple of weeks until I could get into another house with Chaplain Mallory's wife, Ernestine. When the desert maneuvers were over, instead of being sent to North Africa, the division was sent to Indian Town Gap, Pennsylvania for mountain maneuvers. Again, the troops went by troop train and I rode to Kentucky with Chaplain Mallory and Ernestine. He took leave and was able to drive through with Ernestine and me. We arrived at a bus station somewhere in Kentucky about 3:30 PM and I waited there until 2:30 AM before I could get a bus out. I had to sit in the bus station all that time. As we were traveling through Tennessee, we had one of the worst electric storms I had ever experienced. As I recall, I arrived at the bus station in Columbia about 2:30 AM the following day. I waited until daylight to get a taxi to go to my sister's home on Marion Street. I do not recall how I got to Ridgeway, but I stayed there a short while before I joined Johnnie in Lebanon, Pennsylvania, which was a town about ten miles from the army camp, Indian Town Gap. I had a room with a elderly Pennsylvania Dutch couple. She worked and he did the cooking. I remember that he cooked baked beans almost every day. He was very deaf and wore a hearing aid. They had a large dog. I did some cooking there, but I ate out most of the time. I do not remember the details of the times and places for the next several months , but Johnnie went to West Virginia mountains for mountain maneuvers. He ate Thanksgiving dinner out of a mess kit on the side of a mountain in the snow. Later his Company went to Camp Pickett, Virginia and I joined him for a short while in Kensbridge.

Johnnie was sent home for leave prior to being transferred to Ft. George G. Mead to be sent to Europe to join the 85th Infantry Division as a replacement Officer. We spent Christmas at home in Ridgeway and Wolfton. It snowed when we were en route from Ridgeway to Wolfton. I lay down on the back seat of the car during the trip as he felt it was safer. There were no seat belts then. Also, I was about five months pregnant. When his leave was over, he went to Laurel, Maryland.. He found a place to stay and then I followed on the train. Sam, my brother, was home for Christmas. He was stationed at Bainbridge, Maryland with the Navy. I rode with him on the train to Washington. There were about 40 officers transferred from the 77th at that time. We all stayed in a motel at Laurel. Johnnie, as well as the others, went to the army base each morning by bus. One by one, they were sent to the European Theater. Johnnie was about the last to leave. I shall never forget the morning he left. I stood at the window of the motel and watched him until he disappeared over the hill. That picture was so etched in my memory that it will never fade. It is as vivid today as it was then. Thoughts and prayers were in my mind and heart. I never doubled that he would return, but when!

Later, that day, I went by bus to Washington where I got a train to Columbia. There were no seats vacant, but a service man gave me his seat. This was two months before Jack was born. I arrived in Columbia in the wee hours of the morning and got a taxi and went to Ruth and Dale's apartment on Marion Street. From there, I went home to Ridgeway for a few weeks and then back to Ruth's and Dale's a few days before Jack was born. He was born April 19, 1944 at the Columbia Hospital. The day after he was born, I received a letter from Johnnie saying he was on the front lines in Italy.

Johnnie had been sent to Norfolk, Va., then by boat to Casablanca, Morocco. Then by train to Oran, Algeria; next, by boat to Naples, Italy; and then by truck to the front which was near Minturno, Italy on the road toward Rome. He sent me a cable dated May 30, 1944 telling me he had been wounded on May 27. Fortunately, I received this from him before I received the cable from the War Department dated June 8 advising that he had been seriously wounded, which he was, but having heard from him first gave me comfort. He had a serious gunshot wound through his back and shoulder which grazed his backbone. The War Department notified me periodically about his progress and I heard directly from Johnnie by V-mail letters. Also, I received a letter from Lt. Arthur Maybin from Whitmire. He was one of Johnnie's classmates at Clemson and had been wounded at about the same time that Johnnie was wounded. He had been sent back to US for special treatment. They were in the hospital in Naples initially. Johnnie was sent back to active duty in the mountains north of Florence, Italy on August 2, 1944 and was assigned to the 337th Infantry Regiment as Liaison Officer to the First Battalion. He was captured by the German army on September 21, 1944 and sent to Stalag VII-A, Mooseburg, near Munich, Germany. He told me later that after he arrived at the Stalag he felt that he was in a relatively secure place for the first time since his capture. He had read stories about mental telepathy and made an attempt to use it. He said that he chose a time when I would be asleep and there would be nothing distracting me. He silently called out to me to "WAKE UP, MARY--WAKE UP, MARY. I AM OK, I AM OK!" He said he repeated this numerous times while, for emphasis, he struck his left palm with his right fist. We have compared notes and at this instant on October 13, after I had gone to bed with no premonition, I waked up in the middle of the night with the most unusual feeling. I thought he was in the room with me. I could just feel his presence. It was so real, I got up, turned on the light, and looked out of the window. I couldn't go back to sleep, so I got my pen and paper and tried to write a letter to him. I always wrote him a letter each morning, but this morning, I simply could not get my thoughts together to write. Later that morning, the mailman brought a message from the War Department saying that Johnnie was missing in action. Not expecting this, I was shocked. I couldn't get myself together. I felt as though I was in an empty world. This was Friday, October 14, 1944. Ruth, Mama, and Mrs. Hudson, a friend who had helped me a great deal by driving my car when I carried Jack to the doctor twice per week, went to Wolfton to tell Johnnie's parents. All that weekend, I was distressed. Sunday morning, I lay across my bed and prayed that God would speak to me and give me some peace. He answered my prayer that morning through a sermon preached by Dr. Robert McQuilken, President of Columbia Bible College. From then on, I was sure that Johnnie was alive and would return. I never doubted it, even though I was tempted many times by friends. Johnnie's mother and daddy and Uncle Bob visited me that afternoon. Several weeks later, Johnnie's mother and Evelyn , his younger sister, spent several days with us. This visit helped me a great deal. I heard periodically from the War Department, the Regimental Chaplain, and many friends which brought me great comfort.

THE NIGHT BEFORE THANKSGIVING, I received a telegram from the war Department saying that Johnnie was a prisoner-of-war. This was the most glorious Thanksgiving I have ever spent. ON CHRISTMAS EVE NIGHTt, the Postmaster from Ridgeway drove six miles to our house to bring me 40 cards and letters from people all over the United States stating that they had intercepted an enemy propaganda radio broadcast from Berlin, Germany on which one of the cards that Johnnie had written to me was read. The war Department sent me a copy of this card too. All of these people took time to write a personal message. I answered all of them and, even though I have never heard from them since, or even seen any of them, they will always be very special people to me. In January, I started getting some of the cards that Johnnie wrote. I received 11. I didn't receive any toward the end of the war since he was being moved so frequently. He spent part of his time in Poland and back to Berlin. As they were being transferred from one place to another, Captain Rockey Anderson from Rock Hill escaped and came back to United States. I read about it in the newspaper. I called his home and his mother invited me to come up and talk with him. My sister, Rebecca, and Johnnie's sister, Evelyn, were at Winthrop at that time. I went to Rock Hill by bus and visited them and, also, Captain Anderson and his family. He knew Johnnie and was with him on the march. He told me he knew that Johnnie would not attempt to escape. He mentioned how optimistic and innovative that Johnnie was. Many times we heard on the radio and read in the newspapers that Hitler was threatening to put all of the Prisoners-of-war to death. I remember one morning I heard this on the radio I was so full of righteous indignation, I got up out of my chair, stood up in front of the radio, and shook my finger as though I was in Hitler's presence talking directly to him. I told him that God had more power than he did and he had assured me that Johnnie would return safely. Near the end of the war, we would hear that large numbers of prisoners had been liberated. Each time I heard it, I couldn't feel that Johnnie was among them until one Sunday afternoon, April 24, 1945, I heard that quite a few Americans had been liberated from a POW camp by the Russian Army. I felt as though a burden had been lifted from my head. I marked this date on the calendar. When I received confirmation from the war Department and heard from Johnnie this date was confirmed as being the date of his liberation. After this, he went to Reims, France. When he got off the plane there, a NBC news reporter interviewed him and made a recording of it. RADIO STATION WIS PLAYED IT OVER THE RADIO AND SENT THE RECORD TO ME. IT WAS GREAT TO HEAR JOHNNIE'S VOICE. We all gathered around the radio in the living room to hear it. Aunt Edna was there too. I received letters regularly from this time until he arrived at Camp Patrick Henry in Virginia on June 23, 1945, BUT HE DID NOT RECEIVE ANY LETTERS FROM US FROM THE TIME HE WAS CAPTURED UNTIL THEN. I tried every way I knew to get a message to him--regular mail, V-mail, Cable, Red Cross. He moved frequently and none of his mail was received. The first news he had of us was when he called Ruth's house in Columbia from Camp Patrick Henry the same day he got off the boat. Marie Bailey, Dale's aunt, talked with him. He said he didn't know whether we had heard that he was alive. He wanted to know, among other things, if his grandmother was still alive. She was, and lived many years after that time. She was 96 when she died.

Johnnie was sent from Camp Patrick Henry to the Base in Atlanta, where he was immediately put on leave for six months. He told Marie to tell me to take the next train to Atlanta, which was that night. Ruth made reservations for me, but there were no lower berths available. The upper berth was fine with me. I had sat up on the train or bus all night several times. When we went to the train station that night, Mr. Kolb, the State Director of FHA, was there with reservations to go to Atlanta to attend a Regional FHA meeting. Ruth casually mentioned to him that I was unable to get a lower berth. He insisted that I exchange with him. I didn't want to exchange because when I worked with FHA I was aware of the fact that he always wanted a lower berth when he went to Atlanta. However, when time came to go to bed, he insisted that I exchange with him and moved my bags to the lower berth. He, also, told me to wait for him on the outside of the train the next morning so that he could show me a short cut into the station so that I could avoid the crowd going through the main gate. I did as he suggested--not knowing that Johnnie was at the main gate waiting for me! I went into the station by the short cut, called the Robert Fulton Hotel, and called the Army Base as Johnnie had left word for me to do. He couldn't be located and no one knew him. This was early morning. I stayed in the hotel all morning and called the base at intervals. Finally, I talked with someone who knew him, and asked him to leave a note in his room saying that I was in the Robert Fulton Hotel. Meanwhile, Johnnie was at the railroad station meeting every train that came into Atlanta. Late that afternoon, he met a man on the street that he did not recall ever seeing before, who asked him if he had made contact with his wife . This turned out to be the man I had talked with earlier. He recognized Johnnie and told him I was in the Robert Fulton Hotel pulling my hair out. Well, I hadn't actually pulled it out, but I had undressed and rolled up my hair and was about to panic when someone knocked at the door. I asked who it was and it was Johnnie! I have never been so glad to hear anyone's voice as I was his. I could not imagine what had happened. This was the first time we had spoken to each other since I had watched him fade over the hill in Laurel, Maryland sixteen months earlier. He had many questions, one of which was about Walter Bennett, his lifetime friend and roommate for four years at Clemson. Of course, I had to tell him he had been killed in action in the Pacific . Perhaps, I should say our reunion was a happy one, but tinged with sadness because so many of his friends and classmates were killed in action. A grateful reunion would be a better word. We were in Atlanta for two or three days waiting for Johnnie's leave papers to be processed. I believe he had 60 days leave--two weeks of which was spent in Miami where the POW's were sent for rehabilitation. The Army leased the finest hotels down there. The accommodations were elaborate, the food was delicious--the best that could be had--and all kinds of recreation was planned. We went deep-sea fishing one time, but we didn't catch any fish because both of us spent most of the time lying on the deck wondering if we would survive until the boat reached solid land again. We were really glad to get back! We enjoyed being in Miami Beach, but we both would have preferred being at home with our families.

JACK WAS 14 MONTHS OLD WHEN JOHNNIE SAW HIM FOR THE FIRST TIME. He was sick as I have mentioned before most of those 14 months. We were reluctant to leave him but Mama, Jenny, and Rebecca took good care of him. Other than the two weeks we spent at Miami Beach, we spent his leave at his home in Wolfton or mine in Ridgeway. I remember the day we went to Wolfton the first time his parents had seen him. His mother had his favorite foods prepared. The first thing he did when he went into the kitchen was to dive into a jar of fig preserves on the counter, his favorite preserves. Many relatives and friends came to visit and we were invited to eat meals with all his Uncles and Aunts and other relatives and friends from time to time.

Those were hard days. My father having just died, my brother in Normandy, Jack's illness, Johnnie wounded and a POW. They threw me squarely on God. I learned patience and endurance. I learned that "True friendship is more to be had than much fine gold". I learned that one must practice one's faith daily and live in an atmosphere of prayer. Many people have asked me how I survived. I survived by living one day at the time, with the Grace of God, and the love and support of my family and friends. It is true that any one of us can fight the battles of one day. It is when we add the burden of yesterday and the dread of what tomorrow may bring that we break. Life lies straight ahead. After a couple of months of leave, Johnnie was separated (called inactive duty and stationed at his point of resident) from the Army. He was offered a permanent commission as a First Lieutenant, an opportunity to join the Officers Reserve Corps, or to resign his commission. He chose the latter!

We put all of the tangible memorabilia into a file drawer and attempted to put aside our memories of the experiences and thoughts of the war and began to pursue our hopes and dreams for the future. For five long years we had been taking orders from Uncle Sam. Suddenly, we were thrown at the helm of our lives. There were many decisions to be made, but I feel that we adjusted to the post war environment quite well.

Forty-eight years have passed since we returned to civilian life. There are many phases of one's life. There is the phase when one is pursuing a career and rearing children. There is another phase when the children go to college, pursue careers of their own, marry and have children of their own. Then, there is the grandparent and retirement phase, which we are enjoying now. Every phase has its challenges, its crises, its disappointments, sorrows, joys, and rewards. We have learned that each of these phases of life require patience and endurance, which we experienced during the war years. We have learned that one must continue to exercise faith daily and, certainly, in the world in which we live, one must ;live in an atmosphere of prayer, asking God continually for guidance and direction

The damage to Johnnie's shoulder muscles and his foot and ankle injury have followed him through the years as well as having to have major surgery due to the diet and stress that he experienced during the POW days. However, in spite of all this, he has been able to cope quite well and still has that spirit of optimism and innovation that Captain Anderson said he had as a POW.