During the second World War, each had a job
to do for the war effort. My job was to stay home and take care of two great little boys. One was
3 years old, the other, 2. Their daddy had joined the Navy. So many of his friends
who were single had been gone for two years or more.
The three of us had some great times, and some scary.
Grandpa had given the boys a
magnet. They were having fun with it, until the 2-year-old swallowed a small
piece of metal they had found. It had four sharp comers. Of course, it hurt
going down. I gave him some bread to eat. Although I was a nurse, I decided to
phone the one doctor left in our area. He said, “Good, and give him some
raw apple.” All the time I was talking to the doctor, this scared baby
sitting beside me kept asking, “Am I going to heaven?” I can still
see those big blue eyes searching my face. A day later – with some pain – he
passed the piece, much to my relief. We walked to Grandpa’s place of business.
The older boy threw open the door and announced to all, “He grunted and we
got the meta1.”
Another time the older boy, who was
4 by then, came to me crying. He was shaking and crying so hard that I had to
calm him first. He finally told me, “1 put a pretty rock up my nose.”
I could see it, but not remove it. I told him to listen to me and do as I told
him. Breathe in your mouth like Mommy is doing. Close your mouth, and blow
through your nose. Repeating this several times, until he understood, we
recovered the pretty rock. Tears were dried and there were lots of hugs.
Taking them to town was exciting
for them, and kept me busy.
One day at the local A&P store
they accidentally broke a bottle of ammonia. They knew they were in trouble. I
can still see them standing side-by-side, watching me and the manager clean it
up.
One night I was awakened by the
sound of breaking wood. I crept downstairs. The sound was coming from the
basement.
Listening, I wondered why our small
dog Tiny wasn’t alerted. I slowly opened the door and switched on the light.
Soon the breaking of wood resumed. Creeping to the landing, I could see this small
dog breaking the wood with his mouth and teeth. The boys had put him in a
banana box. Much relieved, I helped him out. I laughed to myself about this
burglar in the night. Indeed I laughed many times about their mischievous
doings, never letting them know.
I dressed them in their navy blue
coats with the gold buttons and their real sailor caps sent by Daddy and took
them down to the railroad tracks one block away. The troop trains stopped here to
take on water. The troops – especially the sailors – would cheer and wave to
the boys. These young men hanging out the windows probably had children or brothers
left at home. I felt sad at times, because besides my husband, I too had two
young brothers in the Navy.
Two and one-half years later, their
father returned. The older one had started to schoo1. He had become listless
and ill; he could not understand why Daddy wasn’t coming home. He knew that other
men had returned. One day Grandpa brought the mail and a box of his daddy’s
belongings – that convinced him that Daddy really was coming. Was he happy! He
got up and started eating and was himself again. The younger brother didn’t
remember his daddy. He was suspicious of this stranger. It took a while for him
to accept this person. Tiny, our big protector, didn’t like this man either. In
fact, he nipped at his heels more than once.
Now we were four again, beginning a new life.
Dorothy F. Eichhorn Brooklyn, Iowa
