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| Borrowed from a friend's FB page |
The 80th anniversary celebrations of D-day reminded me of a story I haven't told in a while; if ever on this blog.
Background:
Although my husband's father and brother were Yale graduates—his brother (five years older)ended up writing press releases for Admiral Halsey, commander of the Pacific Fleet—Elliott, for a variety of reasons, including dyslexia and a wicked step-mother, went to work at Pratt & Whitney (Hartford, CT) after high school, soon earning an exorbitant hourly rate as a machinist. After Pearl Harbor, though exempt from the draft because of his job, he signed up for the Army. And, no surprise, ended up in an Ordnance Battalion. Ordnance are the mechanics who keep things running—tanks, trucks, armored personnel carriers, Jeeps, etc.
Elliott refused OCS (Officer Candidate School) as all new officers were being sent to the Pacific and he wanted to see Europe. It wasn't long, however, before he was a Master Sergeant, right arm to the colonel of his Battalion. Before D-day, the battalion was stationed in Bath, UK, their primary function to ready tanks for the invasion. After the invasion, they coped with the constant battle to keep all vehicles moving; in particular, cannabalizing nearly destroyed tanks for parts to fix tanks that weren't as badly damaged.
At the time of this story, the Battalion was well behind the lines in France, the fighting moving inexorably on towards Germany. Some thirty years later, my mother, the author, Wilma Pitchford Hays, recorded Elliott's "organ" story in detail in Guideposts, a religious magazine, but I've been through every drawer of our filing cabinets and cannot find a copy, so will have to settle for what I can remember.
In an effort to thwart the invasion, the German Army removed every road sign in France. All Elliott's Ordnance Battalion knew was that they were somewhere in France. (People were speaking French, and welcoming the Yanks in their midst!) One family even invited Elliott and a friend to dinner. Though neither the Americans nor the French spoke a word of the other's language, a good time was had by all. On the way back to camp, Elliott noticed a church and decided to try the door. (He had been playing organ or piano for services of every denomination since he joined up.)
The church was open; they found the organ. And discovered it could do nothing but wheeze. The two men left, but an idea had been born. The next evening, after their army day was done, they loaded up a bunch of tools and headed back to the village. Being winter, it was dark, the streets deserted. They entered the church and began to dismantle the organ, laying the pieces out on the pews. Then the restoration: mending the mouse-eaten bellows, dusting, polishing; who knows what else? After that, the meticulous task of putting it all back together. The result: a working organ. (As I recall, it was an ancient type that worked by pushing on foot pedals, no electricity involved.)
During the entire time—pretty much all night—no one came in. The two men packed up, returned to camp without seeing a single soul. The next day, their orders came through, and the Battalion moved on. Elliott always ended his story with his hope that someday, while passing through France after the war, he would hear the tale of a French village that celebrated the miraculous restoration of their church's organ.
Postscript:
Elliott finally went to Yale on the GI bill, where he founded the Yale Audio-Visual Center with photos he took of cathedrals and artwork throughout Western Europe. His Ordnance Battalion had a reunion every year for decades. I suspect the Tale of the Restoration of the Organ may have been one of their most oft-repeated stories. Elliott was a Fellow of Branford College at Yale and was the first undergraduate bellringer, appointed only after showing a music book in which he had transcribed multiple hymns to fit Yale's ten bass bells. [Many years later, he was instrumental in Yale acquiring forty new bells to add to Harkness Tower's original ten. (He learned bell-ringing while stationed in Bath, UK.)] Elliott Hirsch Kone (1920-1998) was Jewish.
~ * ~
My respect for the men and women who defend their country and way of life is strong. Perhaps that is why so many of my Regency novels feature warriors who fought long and hard against Napoleon's attempts to be Emperor of Europe and the Mediterranean. Below, my Regency Warrior series, the illustration from the final book.
In order:
The Sometime Bride
Tarleton's Wife
O'Rourke's Heiress*
Rogue's Destiny*
The Lady Takes a Risk
The Abominable Major
*The hero is a warrior, but not soldier.
The Demons of Fenley Marsh
The Secrets of Stonebridge Castle
Rebel Princess
Sorcerer's Bride
The Bastard Prince
Royal Rebellion
~ * ~
For a link to Blair's website, click here.
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Thanks for stopping by,
Grace (Blair Bancroft)
Delightful tale! Thank you!
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