Every member of the Gentleman’s Coffee Club is a veteran, but although military topics come up from time to time, that is hardly all that’s discussed. There are jokes, political comments, talk of family, and discussion of news events.
“We’re setting records now,” one man said. “With this government shutdown.”
“Yeah, a record for failure,” said another.
The conversation went like that.
One of my new friends from the club is Stan Parks, an old Navy man whose pride in our country’s service on the seas is obvious. After recounting the action of a particular ship in World War II, the men asked how long he served. “Three years active,” he said. “Then, after the war, I joined the Navy Reserve, and when the Korean War came around, I was sure they’d call me, but they never did.” I realized I was sitting next to one of the Greatest Generation, a World War II veteran.
I asked him what ship he served aboard. And from there, his story unfolded. Though he could have stayed out of the war to finish college, Stan put his pre-med studies aside and volunteered for the Navy, commissioning as an ensign at age 20.
The USS LST-53 was one of 1,051 nameless landing ship tanks hastily constructed to land vehicles, troops, and cargo directly onto beaches during World War II. After she helped with the invasion of Normandy she returned to America, where Stan came aboard as one of perhaps a dozen officers leading a crew of about 110.
“Our captain was a mustang, an enlisted petty officer who had run a tugboat before the war. He was given a battlefield commission. He knew all about ships and men.”
The USS LST-53 ferried troops, equipment, and vehicles ashore for the Battle of Okinawa shortly before the end of the war.
“Do you think we’ll ever have another war like World War II?” I asked.
Stan looked at me. “I hope not.” His gaze floated off in the distance. “So many people died. On Okinawa alone, we lost over 12,000. The Japanese lost …” He shook his head. “I was also on occupation duty. Tokyo was completely flat, as far as the eye could see. Totally destroyed. I saw other cities like that. It was terrible.”
Part of the occupation involved transporting defeated Japanese troops from where they were stranded on formerly conquered territory back to their home island.
“We picked up a couple thousand Japanese from an island near Iwo Jima.”
“Were they belligerent?” I asked.
“No, they were docile, glad to be going home,” he said. “We landed with Marines, and as the Japanese surrendered, they set up a table of Japanese food for the Americans. The Japanese admiral gave a speech, thanking the Americans for taking them home. They would climb the cargo net, tossing their bag up on the deck, and picking it up as they came aboard.” He smiled. “I’ll never forget one of them had a little pointed goatee, looked like the devil. He picked up his bag, stepped close to me, and said in clear English, ‘America had her day, but we’ll come back.’”
Stan had been promoted to lieutenant junior by the time his service was over. “It was an interesting time,” he said thoughtfully. “But I survived.”
By this time, we were the last two members of the Gentleman’s Coffee Club still at the table. Perhaps remembering the early discussion of the federal government shutdown, Stan continued: “One of the things we had going for us was that we knew everybody back home was completely behind us. We were all in it together. I wish America could come together like that again.”
I echoed his wish, but in the meantime was grateful for the opportunity to come together with a fascinating man who had lived so much history.
