Stan and Lenore Sticklers' life story is in the 1998 Recipes for Living. This is Stan's story of his military service.

STAN STICKLER

I am recording my military service from memory. All my records were safely stored in a "fireproof' vault in our house. When a house fire destroyed our home in 1997, the vault was true to its name - it didn't bum, but the papers were so scorched, they were not legible. They told not only where I had been and when, but more importantly, the men I served with, names of my wartime buddies, and all. All that is left are my discharge papers which were in our lock box at the bank. They are also on record at the courthouse.

I graduated from high school in May 1943, with a class of about a hundred students. It was a time when the various branches of military service were interested in graduates. Army, Navy, and Air Force recruiters were present and I signed up with the Air Force. They told me I needed a recommendation, a physical and mental test. Lloyd Thurston was our congressman and at my request, he recommended me. My mode of transportation in those days was popular and safe. Lots of us hitchhiked, and by that means I went to Des Moines for my physical and mental tests. I qualified to be a pilot, and was told, "You are only 17, and so 60 days after you are 18, we'll call you."

The next day there was a letter in the mail stating that, due to a heavy loss of pilots, I was needed immediately. I was to report four days later, the following Saturday, in Des Moines to catch a troop train. That quickly, I was gone. The troop train took us for basic training at Shepherd Field, near Wichita Falls, Texas. After basic training, they took a bunch of us 17 year olds to the San Antonio Aviation Cadet Center in San Antonio, Texas for pre-flight basic training. From there I went to Stamford Field Army Airfield at Stamford, Texas for primary flying training in single engine flights. From there we transferred to Terrin Army Airfield at Sherman, Denison, Texas, which is at the north end of Texas, where we took off over Lake Texoma. We took basic training there in BT13 aircraft.

After basic training, we went to Moorefield, Mission, Texas, for advanced flying training, flying AT6s, an early single engine fighter plane in use when the war broke out. There I was commissioned a Lieutenant and Flying Officer in April 1945. From there, in the same month, we went to Matagorda Island, off the coast of Mexico, where we had training in bomb runs and aerial gunnery - learning how to shoot the guns from planes.

I was sent to England at that point, and joined a single engine squadron which would fly reconnaissance for bombers on their bombing runs over Germany. But I did that a very short time before Germany surrendered. I was moved back to Randolf Field, north of San Antonio, Texas as a B29 co-pilot, to begin training as preparation to bomb Japan. After that training, I was transferred to several islands that had been taken by Marines, where we were about 650 miles from Tokyo. It was then that we dropped the bomb on Japan and they surrendered. I had no combat missions.

I was shipped back to the United States and stationed as a technical officer at Chanute Army Air Force base at Rantool, Illinois, where the University of Illinois is located. After a few months, my name came up for discharge, except they didn't call it a discharge. Instead, I was issued a Certificate of Service, so that they could call me back if it became necessary. I received that as the clock was striking 11:00, on Armistice Day, November 11, 1945. So my period of service was from May 1943 until November 1945, and I was in the Reserve until 1946. Some months later, they sent me an honorary discharge, which is recorded in the courthouse.

One of the privileges we had in my branch of the service was that we could get an airplane to fly home. I flew home to Des Moines, and hitchhiked to my folks' house in Osceola a lot of weekends. We were encouraged to fly. They saved a lot of older airplanes on the field, and if we wanted to use one, all we had to do was fill out a flight plan. I did additional flying after the war was over. The Army gave planes to the CAP (Civil Air Patrol) and we would pick up those and take them to a designated location. I was all over the United States delivering all kinds of airplanes.

In contrast to a lot of soldiers, who were discharged the day the war was over, as a supply officer, I supposedly was to stay in six months after the peace treaty was signed. When I was released, I caught a CB&Q train to Osceola and it was then I faced a shocking reality!  Going into the service immediately out of high school, all I'd ever done or intended to do was to farm with my dad on our 360 acres. However, he had been badly wounded in World War I. He was in France, serving in the field artillery. They were firing on one side of the line and the Germans were firing back.  One day a shell landed right in the middle of his battalion.  The shells were made like Hershey candy bars with little squares. When they blew up, the little squares became shrapnel, and he had six or eight of those in his body. Surgeons were able to remove all but two - one too close to his heart, the other to his lungs, and they couldn't get those. He died of a heart attack while I was in the service, the farm was sold, and Mom moved to town.

So my dad was gone, and the farm I had expected to be my future, was gone. It was rough trying to find a job. There weren't enough jobs for everybody and a soldier coming home was just another load on the economy. Nobody cared who you were or how you had served the country. All the people who had been discharged before me, and all those who had deferments, had the jobs. I had no special skill. All I'd been trained for was to be a pilot, but when I went to the airlines, in spite of my rating and with plenty of hours of flying time, I was told they liked to train their own. They didn't want military pilots.

Joe Goodman was the postmaster and he gave me the only job I could find, which a holiday job was delivering packages around town for 50¢ an hour. Osceola had lots of snow that year and I waded snow up to my elbows. Come February when the Christmas rush was over, so was my job. It was quite a struggle for a couple years trying to find something to make a living. That went on for about three years until I went into business for myself.

Lenore and I went together six years before we were married, and when we decided to do that, we made two vows - just two: any time we had an argument, it could only last ten seconds. Whatever you had to say, say it in 10 seconds, and then be still. The other vow was that whatever we did, we would do together. That is why you never see one of us without the other. We've kept those vows for 30 years.

One of our involvements is in the American Legion. One time when I was home, my dad wanted me to go to a Legion meeting, and he paid my dues for the first year. Now I've paid dues for 60 years and I have a 60 year certificate.

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Last Revised March 19, 2013