We'll Get Through This!

I told our students that one of the GOOD things about the Coronavirus is that we're being asked to surrender a little bit of our freedom for the sake of others--to "socially distance" ourselves as a way of protecting the health of the more vulnerable members of our community, especially the elderly.  Yes,  it's a little inconvenient for most of us. For those losing their jobs, it's something far more than inconvenient! But perhaps, in our shared sacrifice, we'll be a stronger, less divided country as a result. 

Very few of us living today have been asked to truly sacrifice for the sake of the common good: Military families, yes. First responders, yes. But most of us live pretty comfortably, without fear of a loved one dying, without being asked to fundamentally change our habits for the sake of others.  

As a country, we’ve been through worse.  Mrs. Donna Paintin Blanchard,  a mother of one of our teachers here, recently reminded us of that, sharing her memories growing up in Mobile, AL as a young girl at the time of World War II. With her permission, I am reposting Mrs. Blanchard's reflections here:

“We went to the Saenger Theater for a Sunday afternoon movie.  They announced the Pearl Harbor bombing.  I remember being in the backseat on the way home— Daddy was talking very low and seriously. I didn’t understand what they were talking about, but I remember being scared.   I was 9.  

I remember listening to President Roosevelt’s “Day of Infamy” speech.  I remember how upset Mama and Daddy were when they received notice that we had to move so the ship builders could move into our house.  And I remember looking at our new house on Houston Street house at night, with a flashlight.  Not sure I have these things in the proper order, just memories rolling around loose.  

I remember rationing and the stamps: red for meat and blue for other rationed things, like pineapple.  We had meat three times a week, and “meat substitutes” the rest of the time.  The rationed things were kept in a blocked off part of the store, and you had to have your stamps. You had to be careful with them.   Anything made of metal was next to impossible to get: hair pins, zippers, cars, anything.  Tires couldn’t be found.  I think I remember not having erasers on pencils.  Shoes became hard to get.  

My parents rented out the front bedroom to an Air Force couple,Bob and Phyllis Jolly.  I loved them.  Mama let them use the kitchen on Sunday mornings.  I was in the third grade—we had over 40 in the class.  There was always soldiers thumbing rides. 

Car headlights had to be painted black halfway down from the top to cut down sky shine.  Every neighborhood had its own Air Raid Warden.  They wore a helmet and a belt over their shoulder.   We had air raid practices—sirens would go off, all lights had to be OFF, no exceptions.  The wardens patrolled to check, and when the all clear sounded, people would talk about someday it might be real.   

Once I stepped in some black tar or heavy oil on the beach at the Gulf.  The story was that it was from  a German sub that had come almost up to the Bay.  It was said they were trying to meet with the German community in Elberta to get fresh food.  We watched the planes from Pensacola practice dive bombing targets at the east end of Lake Shelby when we were on vacation in the cabins.  Remnants of those targets were there for many years.  All windows that faced the Gulf had to be painted black.  

When we (kids) went to the Saturday movies to see our serial, we would stand up and cheer any time we saw our flag, or an American soldier fighting a Japanese soldier or a German soldier.   The Japanese were especially despised.   When war news came on the radio, everyone sat in the living room and listened to every word. 

Gas was rationed, so there was no such thing as going for a ride.  I remember going to the little Delchamps store and trying to buy 3 Cokes for Mama.  Rationed!  I think it was because of the sugar, which was scarce.  Once  a week, 3 cokes!   And no chewing gum. 

I remember our cousin William was the first to go in our family.  His convoy sailed out of New York and had to turn back because of German subs.  He sailed on to Africa, fought Rommel’s army, crossed the Mediterranean to Sicily, then to Italy, and up the peninsula to somewhere near Rome, and then home.  

I remember going to my friend Mit’s house.  Her cousin had come home after being freed from  a German prison camp.  I sat next to him at the picnic..he could barely talk, and his hands shook.  I can’t remember his name.   I never saw him again.  I was maybe 12-13."

I think it's likely  that the impact of the coronavirus will get worse before it gets better.  But I find it comforting to be reminded that we've endured much worse in our history, and we got through it, together. Thank you, Mrs. Blanchard! 

May God bless our doctors, nurses and those on the “front lines” as they care for the sick and combat this virus. And may God give our country faith, peace and forbearance as we face this pandemic ”one nation, under God, with liberty and justice for all."

Albert T. Sprague

Captain Sprague, March, 1945, commanding the Cebu invasion

My mother visited us last night and we got her talking about her father, Albert T. Sprague Jr, who was a Captain in the U.S. Navy during World War II. Mom was born in 1941 just before the United States entered the War, and so didn't see much of her father as a result. The war ended in 1945; Grandpa retired not too many years later and eventually moved the family to central Alabama where he taught in the Department of Engineering at Auburn University. My mothers' first complete memories of her father begin in Auburn, but she remembers he never talked about the war, and there was a sense growing up that asking about it was off-limits.

I thought it would be interesting to delve more deeply ito my grandfather's life. Albert Tilden Sprague, Jr. entered the Naval Academy during World War I. That he joined the Navy is not

at the Naval Academy, c. 1919

surprising given his ancestral history: His great grandfather, Seth Ford (1798-1891), was captain of the "Smyrna," a merchant ship, for 25 years, while his grandfather, Albert T. Sprague I (1843-1922) commanded the "Annapolis" before retiring from sea life early, upset with the increasing prominence of steamships (!). His father, Albert T. Sprague II (1870-1943), stepped away from that tradition, becoming an engineer, marrying Ella Worster Baker, and together they had four children: Albert III, Elizabeth (who died in childhood), Willard Ford, and Barbara. My grandfather was technically the "third" Albert of his line, but must have assumed the title of "Jr." during his adult life when his grandfather passed away. Combining the professions of his ancestors, he graduated from Annapolis in 1919 as a naval officer with a degree in Engineering, 28th in a class of 199 men.

Not much is known about his early professional career in the Navy, but he married twice: First, to Ebba Briand, with whom he had three children: June, Evie and Albert Tilden IV. Upon Ebba's death, he married my grandmother, Marie Ancona Robertson, and had two children: my mother, Katharine, and Caroline. Thus my grandmother "inherited" three teenage children and was soon pregnant with my mother, just as the War was breaking out and her husband was away at sea--no easy task!

U.S.S. Beaver, 1943

During World War II, my grandfather was first a Commander of the USS Beaver, a Submarine Tender, from October of 1941 to April of 1942. "Commander" is a rank just below "Captain," and "submarine tenders" were ships that supported submarines, carrying necessary supplies and equipment that subs were too small to carry for themselves. He was then elevated to "Captain" in April of 1942 and given command of the Cruiser USS Raleigh. The rank of "Captain" is the senior most commissioned officer rank below a "flag" officer (Admiral), and in time of warfare especially, to be in charge of a warship was a grave responsibility and a high honor. 

U.S.S. Raleigh

Though there were different "types" during WWII, "Cruisers" were large warships, approximately 550 feet in length, designed to work in tandem with smaller "Destroyers," typically 350 feet in length. They featured big six inch guns and were surprisingly quick for their size, with top speeds of 35 "knots" or about 40 mph. During WWII, it was typical that "Omaha class" Cruisers had a crew of approximately 450 enlisted men and 30 officers.

Naval Operations in Cebu, WWII

That he must have earned respect in his role as Captain is evidenced by the fact he was given even greater responsibility, when in March of 1945, he was asked to lead an invasion of Cebu in the Philippine Islands. Cebu was in the southern Phillipines, regarded as the second most important industrial island in the Phillipines and an important harbor for future Allied operations. It was under Japanese control, garrisoned by 14500 to 15000 Japanese troops. 

"Task Group 78.2" was the name of the Cebu Naval operation, to be done in conjunction with the U.S. Army's "Americal" division, under the direction of Major General William Arnold, which had won earlier fame by its victory at the Battle of Gaudalcanal. Captain Sprague's mission was to lead an amphibious assault on the island, secure the shoreline and provide landing and support for the Army's fight inland. At least three Cruisers and six Destroyers supported the Naval efforts. It's worth noting that typically, "flag officers" commanded these kind of missions, not Captains, and in fact, Rear Admiral Fechteler was originally named the task commander, but he was unexpectedly detached for duty as Assistant Chief of Naval Personnel in Washington, D.C. and my grandfather was chosen to lead in his place. 

Cebu landing

The invasion is well documented in the WWII historical accounts. After bombardment by Cruisers beginning at 2 a.m. and minesweeping along the coastal waters in the very early morning, the first amphibious group began landing at 8 a.m. Military historian Samuel Eliot Morrison, in his book the Liberation of the Philippines, describes the early invasion thus:

Ferdinand Magellan landed at the site of Cebu City on 7 April 1521 and promptly made an ally of the local Rajah. He lost his life on the nearby island of Mactan on 28 April 1521 when personally leading an amphibious assault against one of the Rajah's enemies. The natives caught him in shoal water covering the retreat of his men, who were beyond the then very limited range of gunfire support, and with their spears did to death this greatest of navigators. Four hundred and twenty one years later, Captain Sprague, walking almost in Magellan's steps, was also troubled by shoal waters, but not hampered by lack of gunfire support. Yet he had to surmount one hazard which Magellan never had to face--land mines. (p. 235, Liberation of Philippines, Chicago, 1959)

In fact, ten of the first fifteen LVT's ashore were knocked out by mines only a few yards inland, and adding to the distress, submerged log booms held beaching craft up for several hours. But by the afternoon, the Navy had secured full access, allowing the Army to land and press inward. The Japanese chose not to engage U.S. soldiers on the shoreline in direct fire, but instead created barricades further inland, believing it gave them a strategic advantage. Unfortunately for the them, much of their fortifications were within range of the guns on the naval ships, which blasted away at them as the Army advanced. The eyewitness accounts are telling: "Destroyer fire is excellent," and "Pillboxes destroyed on the ridge, the Japs were smoked into the open, and we mowed 'em down with automatic fire."

Indeed, as with most of the Philippine island wars, it was a brutal, bloody battle. The fighting continued for almost a month, becoming more intense as the Army pushed inward, before all the Japanese fortifications were eventually destroyed, and the few remaining Japanese soldiers retreated to the hills of northern Cebu, deemed "without menace." By the end of the fighting, the U.S. Army had lost 410 men, with 1700 wounded and 8000 "non-battle casualties, principally victims of various jungle diseases." There were just a few Naval casualties, victims of land mines. Some 5500 Japanese were killed, and 8500 more surrendered at the end of the war, including three generals and an admiral. For  youtube video of the Cebu invasion, with actual historical footage, go here.

Even today, the people of Cebu City regard what my grandfather and his men did as their "liberation" from the Japanese. They erected a memorial, entitled "Liberation Park," including a plaque which explains the historical moment. The translation is: Here is where the U.S. 8th Army led by Com. Gen. William H. Arnold and Capt. Albert T. Sprague, assisted by the Philippine Guerrilla of the 8th Military District under the leadership of Lt. Col. James M. Cushing, March 26, 1945. The presence is part of the Victor II operation carried out by Gen. Douglas MacArthur to recover the provinces of Cebu, Bohol and Negros. This gave way to the liberation of the City of Cebu, 27 March 1945; and surrender of the Japanese to the province, August 28, 1945."

At some point shortly after Cebu, Grandpa was promoted to "Commodore." The rank of "Commodore" no longer exists in the U.S. Navy, but was briefly revived in WWII due to the rapid expansion of the Navy during the war, requiring Captains like my grandfather to assume command responsibilities far beyond that of a single ship. The rank of "Commodore" was the equivalent of a "one-star" Admiral and somewhere around 100 men had that rank in the Navy and Coast Guard by the War's end.

After the War, Grandpa taught at the Armed Forces Staff College in Norfolk, VA and later was name C.O. of a Naval Munitions Dump in Dover, New Jersey, before formally retiring from the Navy in 1948. The Navy honored him at retirement by promoting him to "Rear Admiral" (two stars), and his service to his country now complete, he began civilian life with his family in Auburn. I was only six years old when he passed away and have very few memories of him, but my father credited Grandpa in teaching him how to "play" with us kids. Dad grew up in a rather formal family, but recounted visits when Grandpa would get down on the rug on all fours with my sisters and me, barking like a dog or wrestling with us, as we squealed with glee. At first, he was somewhat taken aback, but realized if a decorated, World War II Sea Captain could do it, then it was probably OK for him to do, too. My sisters and I have fond memories of wrestling with my father, just as my grandfather had done.

Grandpa died in 1968 and was buried with full military honors at Arlington National Cemetery, together with his two wives. He is survived today by his third child, my Aunt Evie, and his fourth and fifth child, my mother and Aunt Caroline. Tom Brokaw, speaking about the men of WWII, said they were America's "greatest generation." It's hard to argue with that. I am simply honored to be his grandson.