Saturday, March 5, 2011

Uncle Ennalls Crossing the Elba

He very rarely talked about himself. In fact, I can recall only one instance in which he did. And every 5 years when the IX Corps top officers gathered at Market St., they all sat very close to each other and just stared into space. At those moments, a movie reel could not duplicate what they silently saw.

It makes me cry to think about it.

Heroes.

Little four star General Gillam--I can see him now, humbly standing in front of me, starring off into space. They all sipped on their drinks, but seldom spoke a word. Strange kind of reunion. They just wanted to take comfort from being together. Each understanding what the others had seen--had been through. All highly decorated, several career officers, all gathered around their General [And the tears stream down my face.]

Uncle Ennalls was awarded the Bronze Star and the Legion of Honor and a couple of French medals in the Second War. "Oh, I was just standing around when they were handing out medals." I think most of the 2nd War decorations were for outstanding service though I'm not at all sure. I know that somehow, he was one of the first to rush to meet the Russians....and they all threw their arms around each other and brought up the vodka and drank toast after toast after toast.

It was the end of the war.....

He told me that later they all confessed to not knowing what would happen when they met the Russians head on.

I have the big medal the Russkies pinned on him [as well as all the other medals from both wars]. The French liked to decorate everybody and kiss them. I don't know what he did to merit those decorations. Perhaps just speaking to them in their own language.

He did tell me that in the "First War", He drove an amublance and picked up the wounded. Did I tell you that in one of these instances and during combat, a French Officer came running to him seeking directions. He had been sent by the Americans to ask Uncle for directions since Uncle could speak French. Uncle said that he told the Frog that he knew the way, but was too exhausted to tell him. With that he collapsed into his ambulance asleep. so maybe he got one of his 3 Silver Stars for not speaking to the pesky Frog.

Another was awarded to him for standing in the middle of a field and directing crossing traffic while under bombardment, thereby getting snarled traffic running. [Actually it's the exact scene as in "Patton." Just one war later. and with a bunch of 1914 vehicles that did not always respond quickly.]

I think I have several of the military award letters which should prob be put under glass framing. I should consult an antiquarian about this. Perhaps one of you knows a web site that would describe the proper technique.

Friday, March 4, 2011

Uncle Ennalls

Ennalls the Great was born this day in, I believe, 1898. (March 2nd)

Wow he would have been 113. That would have made him the oldest WWI vet
alive. If he was still alive.

I just saw in the newspaper that the oldest known WW I vet died at
110. he was 16 when recruited in 1917.

Well, he basically drank himself to death dying in hospital at age 65. well, i guess bachelors have to find some commiseration. He liked some women, but was a dedicated celebate. I don't know why except for Christian dedication.

Instead he drank. He drank every day except during lent when he would give up either booze or cigarettes [of which he smoked 2 packs a day!] for Lent.
and no other man I've ever met could have done either, except, perhaps some priests?

Well, he was a very difficult man who could have the most engaging personality when he was not in a bad mood [frequently], at which times he could slice you dead in one sentence. Mother told me never to try to speak with him at breakfast. I thought I'd give it a go. Once.

He rarely spoke to women, they never had any thing interesting to say, and they would be segregated into the drawing room after dinner until it was nearly time to leave at which hour he would usher the gentlmen in for a few sentences. chit chat was of no interest.

I was his namesake, the son of his beloved brother who died so young, and was treated to a couple of trips to Europe. I, like many others of the family, lived at 1303 from time to time. Bill and Henry Patterson, Bitsy and Henry Berl, Aunt Quita and Edith, and the Brodhead boys from time to time. A couple of Berls or a few Pattersons might show up. And others from all over the country dropped in from time to time, all graciously received. Still, he was a renowned lawyer, the head of a leading national corporate law firm, the Chairman of the state Democartic Party, and how he managed to fit all this together is likely due to Allen and the staff Allen would sometimes bring in to help.

Allen is a book. But it's Uncle's birthday.

I am trying not to cry, but tears are running down my 79 year old cheeks.

Happy Birthday, Uncle.