It Was July 21! – 1969
America’s amazing feat of landing on the moon has been celebrated for over 50 years. For most of those years, I was a busy Army wife and mother moving all over the world every few years. Though I noted the fantastic American accomplishment and have always been proud of my country, most years July 21 was just another day. Military families most often move in the summertime, so for many years my main focus was which packing box to open and where to put what was inside. Or see what the children were doing – where are the kids about their age with whom they could become friends? Or meeting the new people at my husband’s new assignment and the new neighbors near our new home. Or registering at the Church nearby – is there vacation Bible School? Sometimes, we would put the boxes aside for a little while and venture out of the house to go to the neighborhood pool. Besides moving, for the Rice family, July was a month of celebrations: Bill’s birthday on the third, the birthday of his uncle who had died at Normandy and for whom Bill was named on the Fourth – and the big celebration, the birthday of our Country! That’s not all – we had welcomed our son to the family on the sixth of July. Cousins and other aunts and uncles’ birthdays cluster all around those celebrations. By July 21st each year, I was partied-out. Still had more boxes to open…
It was only recently that I noticed something that seemed strange to me. Everyone in the U.S.A. thinks that the lunar landing happened on July 20. Why did I always think it was July 21?
Here is the story. My father served in the U.S. Army Air Corps during WWII. He trained to be a radio operator in Madison, Wisconsin. Near the end of his training, there came a memo asking for anyone that could type to identify himself. In those days, women were more likely to have taken a typing class in high school than men. I’m not sure why father learned to type, but it may have saved his life. He stepped forward and was whisked out of radio school and into a different job in the 389th Bomb Group (“Sky Scorpions”) ***
He spent most of his service at Hethel Air Field, Norwich, England, at a desk rather than as a radioman on one of the B-24 Liberators. He did hop aboard one of the planes flying over D-Day, without orders, because he “wanted to be a part of the mission.”
The plane on which he hid away made 5 sweeps over the armada on June 6, 1944. (As a child, I used to play with the air medals that he was awarded. Guess he thought he didn’t deserve them. He had served in the North Africa Campaign with the 389th in 1943. We haven’t been able to figure out exactly what his job was, though we have researched it at the 8th Air Force Museum in Savannah – maybe, a cryptographer. He never said.)
What does this have to do with the moon landing? When I was a little girl, my father, having survived the War, would often put me to sleep with stories of his Army Air Corps adventures while in England. I loved the stories and became a real fan of things English. Most of his stories were from his off-duty time. Since he was stationed in England for three years, they were allowed some furlough time when possible. When I was old enough to babysit, I saved that money for a trip to England planning it for after I graduated from college. In my child’s mind, I would go there, see where my dad had been and one of my friends would surely like to accompany me. Wouldn’t that be fun! My aunt in Chicago even arranged for me to become a pen pal with the niece of one of her neighbors who was from England. We sustained that email friendship from eighth grade to adulthood. I could visit her? A plan is coming into place – oops, after graduation, no one could go with me (weddings, new jobs, no money, etc.), so I headed off for the adventure of a lifetime by myself.
My first step after arriving in London was to get a cab to take me to Paddington Station where I would hop the train for Liverpool. My pen pal was graduating from college that very day and I would get there just in time for the formal ball that evening. (I carried a formal gown to wear as well as an iron to make it presentable after being crushed in the suitcase for so many hours of travel. Little did I know that the plug of my American iron wouldn’t fit into the British electric outlet. I carried that iron and gown all over England for the rest of the six-week trip!) Caught up in the excitement, I barely remembered that I was supposed to send a telegram (How do I do that?) to my parents telling them that I had arrived. Good thing I didn’t forget that detail!
The next day, we went to her family’s home in Cinderford in the Royal Forest of Dean for a few days where I recovered from jetlag. Then, I was off to the places that my father described. In Norwich, I found a phone booth and a phone book and attempted to contact with some of the folks that had been so nice to my father – then, 25 years earlier. In one case, I called the wrong person, but when I described what I wanted, she said, “Oh, you must be looking for my husband’s parents. Where are you? Stay right there; they will come pick you up – don’t move.” The rest of the story is that my father almost married her husband’s older sister while in Norwich; he had been a small boy during the war and remembered my dad like an older brother. I had a wonderful visit with the parents, but the “almost” fiancee had moved away. I wasn’t there long enough to meet her.
Many of my father’s stories were centered around a resort in Scotland where American soldiers went on furlough. Being there for three years, he and his buddies went there several times for rest and recuperation. I decided to go there, too, taking the train to Edinburgh from Norwich. It was there that I realized that the monumental effort to reach the moon was on schedule. I learned that the landing was expected to take place in the middle of the night, about 3 a.m. Edinburgh time. Wow, I needed to find a television. Would it be televised in Scotland? I looked around the hotel to see if there was a television somewhere – at that time, there were no televisions in hotel rooms. I found one in a sitting room and checked to see how to turn it on. Then, I went to sleep, setting my alarm for 2:45 a.m. When the alarm went off, I crept down to the sitting room in my pajamas, turned on the television and waited for the rest of the crowd to arrive. No one ever came, but the television worked and the first steps on the moon were televised.
It was such an amazing experience to know that so many Americans had been a part of this unbelievable event. It was an exhilarating event to witness especially so far from home – even if it was by myself. What a thrill!
I went to church the next morning at the closest church I could find. I was delighted when the priest spent his entire sermon relating the landing on the moon as a gift from God, the ingenuity of the American Space Program and getting to know more about God’s wonderful creations. It was wonderful – I wanted to raise my hand and I shout, “I am an American. You are talking about my country. Thank you for your inspiring message.” (I didn’t do it!)
It continued to be an exciting day when after church I went to the bus station to go to Blairgowrie, Scotland, the location of the resort. Everyone was buzzing about the moon landing. I didn’t realize at the time that on Sundays, nothing stores are closed, so my only way to get to the resort – some miles out of town – was to ask at the bus stop. How can I get there? When I identified myself as the daughter of an American soldier who visited 25 years before, they called the hotel and the owner came for me. The lady who had owned the resort at the time of my father’s visits had moved to a cottage on the grounds when her son took over the administration of the resort. He took me to her home; when I was introduced, she exclaimed, “You are my first American grandchild! Come in so we can get to know each other.” She related the same stories to me that my father had told me as a child – I thought it was amazing: with a name like Smith, I was really surprised anyone would remember him. It was quite a memorable day – it was July 21 in Scotland, but July 20 in the U.S.A.!
*** Called “The Sky Scorpions”, the 389th Bomb Group flew B-24 Liberators from Hethel, near Norwich, England. In 1943, 389th detachments were sent to North Africa at Benghazi, Libya and at Massicault, Tunisia. The 398th also participated in bombing raids over Austria, Italy, Sicily, Crete and Romania, particularly the oil fields at Ploesti.
I was on the beach at Fort DeRussy in Honolulu when the landing took place. I watched it on a black and white TV. I was on graduation leave and visiting my parents who were stationed in Hawaii. One of those watching as well was MG Thomas Matthew Rienzi of Signal School and Mess Hall rally fame.
Didn’t you have a great place to watch history being made and with an esteemed crowd! Thanks for sharing your experience, Mike.
I, too, grew up with stories of the Army Air Corp so I truly appreciated your story. My mother would rock me to “Here we go, into the wild blue yonder…..” . Thank you for a trip down memory lane, Suzanne.
My father loved to sing. Wild Blue Yonder was a favorite. He had taken air training after WP graduation but decided to stay in the Artillery. Taking a jab at the airforces, he always finished the song, “Nothing can stop the Army Air Corps…, except the weather.”
Hi! Janie,
Thanks for sharing that lovely childhood memory with your Mom. Weren’t we lucky to have wonderful, patriotic parents! It’s so nice to hear from you.
Parents from the greatest generation. Dad was a B-17 pilot and POW. Mom was also my hero. We grew up with all the greatest blessings!!!
Hi Janie
I was so surprised to see your comment. My Mom sang my sister and I the same song. My Mom was a nurse. When she was in training she and a few classmates planned to join the military when they graduated. She was dating my father and he discouraged her from doing that because he was already in the Army. I think she always regretted it. We thought that was why she sang that song. Now that she is gone my sister and I will occasionally text each other parts of that song at night. I never knew that song was so popular.
Take care and thanks for sharing that good memory
Cindy
Thanks for the story, Suzanne! We all remember vividly the moment, a shared piece of history. You brought your father’s service and the moon landing alive.
Thank you so much, Pete. It was an amazing feat for our nation. God bless America!
Suzanne, that was a great story. My dad never told me any of his stories … but now that he’s gone I wish he had. I remember watching the moon landing on tv … but I can’t remember for sure where I was. I only remember that I watched it. By the way, Avril was a Smith as well … so to me it has never been a common name. It has always been a very special one.
Thank you, Ray. It was fun to remember those days and especially the pride I felt for our country so far away from home – and alone. It almost felt like the whole world was cheering on that day! Maybe, Avril and I are Smith cousins! 🙂
Fantastic story,Suzanne!
Wife JoAnne & I never made it to England,but I do remember watching the moon landing event on TV. We were at her parents house in Highland Falls while I was on graduation leave. A most memorable moment.
Wasn’t it great that you and JoAnne could watch the wonderful spectacle together on that special day. Thanks, Denis.
Great story, Suzanne…our classmate, Jay Olner, and I watched the moon shot blast off on a boat nearby in Cape Canaveral, then got to visit the operations center as Jay was dating an AF colonel´s daughter who was working inside…quite a thrill to hear the astronauts talking in real time…take care, Rick
Wow! Weren’t you the lucky ones to be right there at Cape Canaveral and in a boat! Amazing. Seems like there might be a story there that you could share with us all.
My father was a bombardier in a B17 shot down over Italy on his 3rd mission – he spent 18 months in a German POW camp but like most WW2 vets, never really talked about those years of his life. Your story brought back those memories for me. You are a great story teller. I hope you have many more great July’s.
Thank you, Richard. My dad didn’t share the difficult parts of being in the war, but just stories that a child could relate to. It was amazing to go to England 25 years later and hear the same stories he told me from the mouths of the English people that he had shared the experiences with. I thought they might have forgotten, but they hadn’t!
Great story! Thanks for sharing. My Dad’s typing skills helped him spend WWII in Memphis as a radio instructor instead of going to the to the Pacific as a Navy dive bomber crewman. He met and married my mother there. My uncle flew B-24’s out of North Africa into Romania. Not sure of unit.
HI! Tom,
Weren’t we lucky that our Dads took typing in high school. I always wondered how he happened to choose typing, but it turned out to be a great choice. The 389th Bomb Group “Sky Scorpions” flew those missions from North Africa to Pluesti, Romania. Your uncle might have been in the same unit as my Dad. You might like a trip to the 8th Air Force Museum in Savannah to get a look at those heroes. You might like to read this story: https://thedaysforward.com/brush-with-history-1981/
A wonderful and entertaining story, Suzanne. My Father shared very little about his time in the Army during WWII. However, there was one humorous tidbit he always loved to tell. At birth, his parents gave him the somewhat unusual first name of “General” (everyone called him Gen). He said that after he was promoted to Sergeant, he started bragging to others he would meet that he was the only soldier in the entire US Army that had his unique rank, and that he outranked all officers except the most Senior, because he was a “Sergeant General”.
Thank you, Pat, for sharing this wonderful story about your Dad, Sergeant General. Terrific! He must have had a great sense of humor. My Dad was a jovial fellow, too.
I just love to read what you have experienced! My Dad never talked about the war, but I do remember you talking about your dad and knew you were interested in England and had a pen pal. Thanks for sharing the story; keep them coming!
Dear Marcella,
I’m so glad you are enjoying the stories. More great stories from the Class of 1969 are on the way. Thanks for joining us in this adventure!
Hi Suzanne. Just want to let you know that I have read most of your stories, but not this one yet. I really enjoyed reading about your family and your life in the Army.
Thank you, Martha. Being an Army wife gave me so many opportunities and amazing experiences that I’d never have guessed about having. I’m glad you are enjoying the stories. Many more stories from the Class of 69, their wives and widows are coming. Keep reading!
Dear Suzanne:
Thanks for another great story! Here’s a “story” 4U, posted by me on an appropriate day late: As you likely know, it was officially “National Moon Day” on July 20th. Enjoy this fresh moon view, courtesy of George Washington’s Mount Vernon: https://www.bahrnoproducts.com/MV%20Moon.htm
Thanks again. Stay safe/well!
Best regards & BOTL,
Bill
Beautiful photo and sentiments from George Washington’s home. Thanks for sharing them, Bill.
Thanks for sharing this wonderful memory, Suzanne! Sally & I remember you and Bill visiting Savannah and the 8AF Museum and checking the archives. On 20 July 69, we were on our honeymoon, enroute to Ft Sill to start the Basic Course … over 52 years ago … hard to believe!
It was difficult to find records about WWII soldiers after the 1973 fire at the Records Center in St. Louis. You might like to read about it. https://www.archives.gov/personnel-records-center/fire-1973
https://www.archives.gov/news/articles/archives-recalls-fire
I found the articles fascinating especially since St. Louis is so special to you and Bill. I’m told there are more Civil War records now than from WWII.
You and Sally have your own very special memories of those days! Congratulations on finding each other!
Dear thedaysforward.com administrator, You always provide valuable information.