With Heavy Hearts

Separation and Transition: First Days at Hamilton Field

"Go fast and get off of the field!"

Unlike Alice, who had lived in an apartment as a junior-college student and later when she worked on her own, Jack had never lived away from his family home. He moved from life at home with his mother to life at home with Alice. After enlistment on 22 October 1942, Jack had a few days off to quit at Mare Island shipyard and take care of personal matters. Then he moved to Hamilton Field.

On Oct. 26, 1942 Alice, Mother, and I went to Hamilton Field. Alice and Mother would have to go home by themselves as this was my last few hours as a civilian. I knew it was going to be very hard to say goodbye. After saying goodbye and sharing a few tears with Alice and Mother, I told Alice to go fast and get off of the field as I knew it was just as hard for them to go as it was for me to stay. I had a large lump in my throat all day and I’ve felt kind of blue ever since Alice and Mother left.[1]

Jack just after his enlistment

Alice’s letters, mailed from just thirty-three miles away, show her shared feelings.

Oct. 29, 1942 [Thursday]

Dearest Jack:

  Darling I miss you so much I think I can hardly stand it.

  When you called tonight I wanted to tell you lots of things but I was afraid I would start to cry and I did when you said goodbye.  I hope and pray you will be able to be home Sunday. 

  Tuesday night I was so tired I didn’t have much chance to think and I thank god for that, as I would have cryed my eyes out.[2]

Oct. 30, 1942 [Friday]

Dearest Jack:

  You don’t know how good it makes me feel to get your letter.

  Did they say you couldn’t get a married mans pass or don’t you think they will give you one?[3]

Jack met other enlistees and formed friendships that would ease the pain of separation from Alice.

                                                           

I made myself acquainted with Bob Azevedo from San Rafael who, too, was enlisting. Since that time we have become the best of friends and consider each other as “buddies.” I then noticed that also enlisting was Charlie Alcott, a fellow from Santa Rosa I used to collect from when I was working for Poulsen’s. Several others enlisting then whom I met later were Dude Garner, Harold Dalgliesh, Bill Jefferson, Manuel Bettencourt, and Bob Evans.[4]  Wallace Winkler, an apple rancher from Sebastopol, and Erwin Derrick, a prune grower from Healdsburg, were enlisting, too. We met and also got to be good friends.[5]

Bob Azevedo, center, and two other buddies

You’re in the Army Now

I was admitted to the Field, given tests, and sworn in. We were taken to Hangar #7 upstairs and then some of us were split up, and four of us went together over to barracks T11 at the 38^th Ferry Sqd. We then ate at barracks #7. In the afternoon we went to the Quartermasters and got fitted in clothes. Then we got back to the barracks and got our bunks. After learning how to make a bed and fold our clothes we finally got settled. For the first time we had on our Army clothes and realized we were actually in the Army.

Jack's ID badge, 38th Ferry Sqd.
Hamilto Field

 

Jack on his bunk. From there he could
plug in his electric razor and shave.

Oct 28, 1942. We were awakened out of a sound sleep by a loud bugle and a whistle blowing.  There were fellows running here and there, and finally we got washed and our clothes on. We heard another whistle and somebody said, “Fall out!” We fell out and lined up. We answered roll call and then started to march around in the dark.

How did we know a left flank from a left column or a rear march from an about face?  Who cared? It was dark. After eating chow we were taken to the drill field and learn which was our right and which was our left. This was easy for Dude and Charlie and me, but Harold could not for his life remember which was his left or his right.

At night Charlie Alcott and I would get together and begin to wonder about passes.  We had heard a number of things about married man’s passes but we wanted to find out for ourselves.  We asked 2^nd Lt. George Brown who turned out to be a first class p _ _ _ _.  He said he would find out and let us know later. The next day he told us that we were now in the Army and we might as well forget our civilian life.  This was alright for the present but it did not mean that we would forget it. It made us fight all the harder for a married man’s pass.[6]

Hitchhiking to Santa Rosa

After a short period of time at Hamilton Field, I got a married man’s pass where I could come home quite often. We did not come home every night, but I got a lot of time to come home.[7]  My friend Charlie Alcott and I would hitchhike home and back to Hamilton in the morning.[8]

Jack and Alice at Hamilton Field

Jack’s married man’s pass made the separation from Alice tolerable, and he began to figure out what being in the Army was all about. Fifty years later he told a story with a terrifying beginning.

Now, one time when Charlie and I were hitchhiking home, we were picked up by a couple of gentlemen in an old Chevrolet, and we were sitting in the back seat. We were going down the highway toward Santa Rosa when we came to where the road turned off to go around old San Antonio Creek south of Petaluma. Well, instead of staying on the highway toward Santa Rosa, the fellow put out his arm [signaling a turn] and turned to the left on the old road to San Antonio Creek. Charlie looks at me, and I looked at him. We didn’t know exactly what was happening about that time, but we thought, “Boy, this is something unusual.” The first thing we thought about was robbery, but why rob a soldier? A soldier probably had less than a dollar in his wallet. So anyways, we drove down this road probably a couple hundred yards when the fellow pulls off to the side. Charlie looked at me, and I looked at him. We thought, “Well, this is it.” The fellow turned the car off, reached under the front seat, pulled out a bottle, and said, “Would you fellows like a beer?”[9]

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[1] Jack J. Kellar, “My Life in the Service,” diary, 22 October 1942–July 1943; held and transcribed by the author. The diary is a preprinted fill-in book, My Life in the Service (Chicago: Consolidated Book Publishers, 1941). Jack began the section titled, "The Following Pages Contain the Diary of My Life in the Service." He completed about eight months of narration, often at long sittings, not daily.

[2] Alice Streeter Kellar (Santa Rosa, California) to “Dearest Jack” [Pvt. Jack J. Kellar, 38^th Ferrying Sqd., 11^th Ferrying Gr., S.P.W.  A.T.C., Hamilton Field, California], letter, 29 October 1942; held by the author.

[3] Alice Streeter Kellar to “Dearest Jack,” letter, 30 October 1942; held by the author.

[4] Jack J. Kellar, “My Life in the Service.”

[5] Jack J. Kellar, “Where Were You During World War II?” a story drafted in 2004, but not submitted for publication in The Sonoma Searcher, newsletter of the Sonoma County [California] Genealogical Society; held by the author.

[6] Jack J. Kellar, “My Life in the Service.”

[7] Jack J. Kellar, interview about his first years after high school by Judy Kellar Fox, 12 April 1993; cassette tape recording and transcription held by the author.

[8] Jack J. Kellar, “My Life in the Service.”

[9] Jack J. Kellar, “Autobiography,” 1998; two ninety-minute cassette tape recordings; held and partially transcribed by the author.