Posted by
William D. Dannenmaier on Saturday, December 18, 2010 2:50:49 PM
My brother Joe telephoned the other evening. He said, and I agreed, that it was nice that we had the opportunity to see each other again at our sister, Ethel’s funeral. I added that it would have been nicer if we had had a bit more time to visit. It was our first meeting in a while. Living about 700 miles apart, meetings are difficult. We have some hope of getting together for a bit more time this coming summer in St. Louis, provided we remain healthy enough.
I received a special e-mail from my friend and fellow Outpost Harry survivor, Len Lassor. While we didn’t meet at the time – I was a scout and Len was a medic – we met at a survivor’s meetings. At the time I asked him, since he had three purple hearts, why didn’t he go back for a fourth? He said that when he woke up in Japan from the third, the war was over. Anyway, in his e-mail, he challenged me to live through 2011. It is a challenge. At eighty, the path gets steeper. His challenge reminded me of a couple of patrols I was on. Carrying a twenty pound radio in addition to rifle, grenades and extra ammunition, I tired faster than the others and the going in the mountains became more difficult. I remember two especially. On one when, returning after an almost all night patrol – it was still dark, I was looking for a place where I could drop out and hide for a bit and then try to work my way back by myself. Then the last man shoved me out of his way to get past. I was so angry I got the energy – I was trying to catch him and kill him - that I finished the patrol. Being eighty is a bit like that, there are times when you would like to drop out for a bit. But I guess it happens to all of us, at all ages, at one time or another in our lives.
Not just the Dannenmaiers, but Cumberland Furnace has had a difficult autumn. A friend was listing the number of people, people I know and respect, who have serious medical problems. The one good laugh that I got from listening to the above tale of woe, came from the answers Marshal Wall gave to questions as he awoke following his heart surgery. The doctor asked if he knew what year it was and Marshal answered, “Sure, 1994.” Asked if he wanted to revise that date Marshall asked, “2001?” The he was asked if he knew who the President was. Immediately Marshal replied, “That damned Obama.” All present were reassured.
Being a husband is a difficult task. Sheila is leaving me. She, Andrew and Megaera are driving to Branson to wish Stephen a Merry Christmas. They will be gone three days. That means that for the next three days I shall have to cook for myself. She bought a bunch of frozen dinners and some cheese and crackers for lunch and supper and some cereal and half and half for breakfast. Since I’ve never learned to use her new microwave, that means that I shall be forced to turn on the oven, wait until it hits 350 degrees and then cook my lunches and suppers. I know that the frozen meals come in their own dishes, but what if all the knives, forks and spoons get dirty? I’ll have to feed the dogs, cats and birds also. I think Sheila should be ashamed of herself, leaving all of that labor for me. Just more evidence that I am a typical abused husband. I’ll probably “waist” away while she is gone.
On the other hand, I’ll have football, cheese dip with horseradish and pretzels for football, so perhaps I’ll survive.