Great Reading for the Greatest Generation! — and its offspring.
Available at Lulu, Amazon, and Noble websites, my novel, A Tale of Love & War tells the story of children growing up during the Great Depression, and the experiences of front line war in the Pacific, together with the trials of the home front. The following are some excerpts:
Life in The 30s
Most breadwinners commuted to the city by bus to Jamaica and then by the El' that hovered over a limitless path of stores. Later in the Thirties the subway system was expanded to Jamaica. Mass-transportation was so prevalent at twenty cents round trip for bus and subway who could argue that even the rare car owner would not dream of transporting himself to work in spite of the Saturday morning specials of eight gallons for a dollar. Even rarer was the housewife who could drive a car; thus most were mercifully spared the duties of family chauffeur. Local grocery stores or delicatessens, including mini-market chains springing up, were within walking distance and shopping was done daily. The more affluent or the infirm would have victuals delivered free or for a mere ten cent tip although acknowledged that a premium price was structured in. After-school-hours marked the children shoppers mostly girls armed with their mothers' list and instructions to be on the alert for the clerk's fast adding on the paper bag and the butcher's heavy thumb on the scale.
Thanksgiving
The doorbell rang and she opened the door to be greeted by a big baseball with little legs and a Brooklyn Dodger Bum.
"Anything for Thanksgiving?" shrilled the baseball through the stitched cut-out mouth.
"Oh, my goodness, I have lots of things just waiting for the likes of you!" said the grandmother. "Though I cannot promise to fill that shopping bag almost as big as you, surely, I can fill the pocket of your friend’s baseball glove."
"Shucks, it’s only a catcher’s mitt. The pocket isn’t too big," fell a trail of disappointment from a pushed out lip of the Dodger.
The baseball turned to her affiliate. "I told you to bring Ray’s Lou Gehrig glove!
Mrs. Reynolds laughed and led them into the vestibule, pointing to the large bowl of goodies. "Now, don’t go overboard; save some for the neighborhood children. But I have special treats for you on the dining table." They dug into the bowl, then ran into the dining room.
The two children gasped at the array of cookies, cakes, and fruit. The base-ball "rolled" to the kitchen and returned with another shopping bag and presented it to her companion. "That glove will never do."
Home Front
She would go to the Jamaica bus terminal and record her voice stating how proud she was of him for island hopping and that she was no longer "hopping mad," nor afraid.
I couldn’t believe it when I got home from school and saw the V-mail. Though it is not a good sign that you are already assigned and I fear in the thick of it, at the time I opened the letter I was so thrilled to see your words that I hadn’t thought about the bad of it.
Bougainville
“Well, at least I found some open visibility in this damned jungle,” Johnny joked as he took his bayonet and scraped the bog from his fatigues and raider boots. He tore off a huge leaf and wiped the stock of his rifle. Then he explained, “Just above that mound in the middle of the swamp there’s a small ridge out there—probably where the Nambu’s coming from.”
Chic smirked. “Well, it can stay there for my money. We’ll have to wait till the first platoon gives us some flanking action way over on the opposite fringe.” They burrowed under the vines when snipers ranged in again. The Nambu followed with a relentless volley tearing the foliage and cracking the vines over their heads as each man pressed his face into the soggy earth.
Author, Richard R. Kennedy
