West Point ’41: The Class That Went to War and Shaped America

6 | Baptism into War

49 6 Baptism into War Ace Bailey reported to the 34th Infantry Division headquarters at Fort Dix, New Jersey, on a cold, blustery morning in February 1942. Checking in, he was asked by a captain if he knew anything about 81mm mortars. He answered that he had only seen a wooden type on the Carolina maneuvers; given an Army short on supplies, it had improvised with makeshift mortars to simulate real combat. “You’ll be just right,” the captain told Bailey of his mortar experience. “You’ve got yourself a job.” With that, the recent West Point graduate became an 81mm-mortar platoon leader. Bailey was notified that he had but a short time before his unit was to sail. To prepare for battle, the training was to be a grueling sunup-till-­ sundown regime under the watchful eyes of a post commander who was convinced the men were subpar soldiers. A few weeks into their ordeal, Bailey felt the commander’s wrath one weekend morning when the commander showed up to inspect the officers’ quarters, only to find barracks filled with unkempt beds. He put officers on notice that they had until 2 p.m. to turn the place spotless, or he would cite them for dereliction of duty. The cleaning task was easier said than done since most officers were on leave for the weekend, many visiting their new brides. A recall went out but there were far too few housekeeping hands to go around. In desperation, Bailey asked Sarah, his wife of just four weeks, to help scrub the barrack floors. She raced from the pair’s nearby apartment to attack the floors like she was at war with them. Just shy of the appointed inspection time, she heard, “Here he comes!” With only seconds to spare, she exited out one set of barrack doors before the inspecting officer swung in through the others. The Baileys’ was not a typical newlywed moment, but then nothing was typical three months following Pearl Harbor. America needed to retool, Kazel-Wilcox - West Point.indb 49 3/19/2014 5:40:10 PM 50 ★ west point ’41 and it was being driven into a tailspin as the gears of productivity shifted. Industrial factories used for civilian purposes were converting to military production, but as that effort geared up, material shortages began strangling output. Every American was urged to pitch in to help. Kids ran metal and scrap drives; young women patriotically gave up stockings to conserve on nylon; families became subject to ration books dictating how much they could buy of scarce items; auto assembly lines halted consumer production to make way for Army vehicles. As fuel grew scarce under rationing, Virginia Skowronek was forced to sell Paul’s precious convertible. Everyone felt the pinch. Even broadcasters were squeezed as the government censored news to keep a positive spin on the war effort. Nearly every aspect of life, as Americans knew it, was altered. None felt the upheaval more than mothers who sent their boys off to war, in the flash of an eye, their sons catapulted into becoming men. Women moved into the workplace to replace those called into action. Sarah Bailey scrubbing barrack floors was but a small contribution. Sarah was at least thankful that the 34th Division’s deployment was delayed until April. Then the countdown began. On April 28 troops at Fort Dix were placed on twenty-four-hour alert and embargoed from communicating with the outside world. Regardless, Ace Bailey, like other enterprising officers, managed to sneak his wife into his room for one last evening of passion. The next day, he boarded a train headed for the shipyards of New York City. He stared blankly out the window as the locomotive pulled out of the Fort Dix railway station. What lies ahead? When will I see Sarah again . . . or will I? The bells of the gate crossing clanged like a boxing bell, breaking his daze. He glanced at the tracks, noticing a lone blue Chevy at the crossing gate. It jogged his memory. He did a double take. That’s my car. And that’s Sarah . . . How did she get past the post guards and on to this back road? The petite blond sat behind the steering wheel as though hugging it for consolation, looking frail and forlorn. She was yearning for one more glimpse of her new husband, not knowing if it might be her last. Sarah Bailey had all of twenty years behind...