Letters to the Editor: 09.04.97

Heed The Warning

Amagansett

September 1, 1997

Dear Mrs. Rattray,

I received the following letter from an old friend, who asked me to forward it on to you. Hope you had a pleasant summer.

Sincerely,

ALEC BALDWIN

The letter from Mr. Baldwin's "friend" follows. Ed.

To The Editor:

Perhaps you have been wondering what happened to me. Many have asked "Where you been, Milo?" And "Why no letters in The Star for so long?" Because I've been cooling off for so long, that's why. After Clinton and his cronies were elected, I was so distraught, I left the country. I went to several continents. I thought of bringing a load of heroin or cocaine back into the country with me to unleash on an unsuspecting inner-city population of bed-wetting, thumb-sucking, welfare cheats who are leaching the blood out of this great country. Instead, however, I return to the East End to confront my demons head on, and thus the coming local election.

Hear my warning and hear it now! You have been warned, so heed the warning. Those who do not heed the warning will know my terrible wrath and God-like vengeance! Don't piss me off! Or the body count will reach heights that will make Cambodia look like a dodgeball game.

Anyone in town government is not to be trusted. Make that anyone in town government is scum. Make that puke. No, vomit. No, anyone in town government should be shot. And hung. After violent torture. Roar! Roar! Hear my wrath, East Hampton. I will personally get in the face of anyone who does not heed me. Attention all candidates! Call me. I will rate you and handicap you and spiritually advise you. If you don't call, you die. You won't get a table at a restaurant in Montauk; you won't get a tow truck, a Band-Aid at a first-aid station. You won't get extra cheese on a pizza. You will be cut off, and you will shrivel up and die. Roar! Hear my warning!! Don't piss me off!!

Anybody makes a move without checking with me, you die. Your whole family too! Roar! Now come out clean. No kidney punches. Let's settle this election thing like men. (Any women try to vote, they die.) Roar! Ding, ding! There's the bell.

MILO A. WILDHEAD

Letter Home From Boynton Beach

August 28, 1997

Dear Editor,

On Oct. 16, 1940, some 16 million young American men between the ages of 21 and 35 signed up for the military draft. In the preceding months of 1940, a number of local men, rather than be drafted into the Army, enlisted in the branches of service of their choice. A few, after they had signed up in the October draft, opted to serve for a year, and, upon completion, be placed in the inactive reserve. Some served a year and had been home for only a week when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. In a matter of a few weeks, they were back on active duty.

Among the local men who volunteered for the one-year program were Charlie Keyes, Frank Mullane, and Hunt Smith. With others from nearby communities, they reported to the Southampton railroad station. When they arrived, a large crowd, entertained by a high school band playing John Phillips Sousa marches, was prepared to give them a resounding departure. Years later, Charlie recalled that one would have thought we had already won the war, as euphoria enveloped the crowd.

They boarded the train, which took them to Patchogue, and from there they went to Camp Upton. Upon arrival at Upton, they received a somewhat less enthusiastic reception. They were lined up by an acting corporal and were marched through mud to some drafty looking tents, where they placed their belongings on very narrow and rather uncomfortable looking cots. As Charlie later said, "The honeymoon ended very abruptly." Frank Mullane and Hunt Smith became enamored with Army life and made a career of it. Charlie, though, returned to East Hampton and his beloved Eleanor.

Quite a few young men, upon completing high school entered the service in the '30s, because there wasn't any employment for them in the civilian world. Times were tough, and in the armed forces they would receive $21 a month, food, shelter, and clothing.

Four early enlistees in the U.S. Army were Raymond Hamilton, Carl Hettiger, Melvin Hulse, and William Schellinger. After the completion of their training, each one eventually was assigned to the First Infantry Division, the Big Red One. They landed in North Africa in November 1942, Sicily in 1943, and on Omaha Beach on June 6, 1944. In the North African campaign, Hulse received a battlefield commission.

After the end of hostilities in May 1945, they returned home. Ray Hamilton married Helen Talmage and made his home in East Hampton. While in the service, Billy Schellinger married a Connecticut girl and subsequently made his home in the Nutmeg State. Melvin Hulse and Carl Hettiger returned to the service to make a career of it. When his Army days were over, Melvin retired as a full colonel. For Carl, though, he was less fortunate. When he returned to pursue his Army career, he was assigned to the 24th Infantry Division, which was stationed in Japan.

While Carl was in Japan, the Korean War broke out, and the 24th Division was sent to Korea. After that conflict ended, he returned home. I saw him one afternoon and had quite a long chat with him. During our conversation, he told me that he had had a physical examination and the result was not favorable, as he had leukemia, with about a year to live.

He said to me, "I have come home to die. And to think of all the combat I have experienced, there wasn't a bullet or a shell that had my name on it, and I will die from a disease of which a great deal is not known."

Somewhat amazing is how the four of them survived the many battles and skirmishes they participated in. If a person wants to live a long life, and most do, the infantry in wartime is no place to be. Life expectancy there is rather short, as statistics show.

In the Solomon Islands area of the Southwest Pacific, two young East Hampton sailors were lost when their ships were sunk. In November 1942, Chief Petty Officer Andrew Gilbride, a seven-year veteran, went down with all but a few of his shipmates, after the light cruiser Juneau was torpedoed. Among those lost were the five Sullivan brothers, for whom a destroyer was later named.

Another young man lost in the Solomon Islands area was Rob Woodward when his ship, the U.S.S. Quincy, was sunk in the Battle of Savo Island, in August 1942. Many naval vessels, both American and Japanese, were sunk in that area, and it became known as Iron Bottom Sound.

In the battle of Iwo Jima, Marines Felix Dominy and Wilmot Petty were killed in action in the bloody conflict. Wilmot had first experienced combat in the August 1942 invasion of Guadalcanal. A close boyhood friend of mine, Roy Hulse, Melvin's older brother, was a marine on Iwo Jima, and afterward often wondered how he ever survived.

Shot down over Europe were Ray Clark and Bert Olsen, both aerial gunners. Killed a short time later after they landed in Normandy were infantrymen Johnny Byrnes and Linwood English. Other infantrymen killed in action were Randolph Lester, William Raynor, and Vincent Tarazavich, who lost their lives in the German Ardennes offensive, which is more commonly known as the Battle of the Bulge.

There was another young East Hampton soldier, who for heroism under fire was awarded the Silver Star, the United States Army's third highest award for gallantry in action. Bobby Hudson was a nice, quiet kid, and during most of his school days his mother walked him each day to and from school. He was called a sissy by some of the thoughtless students, and had he been struck down, he would have arisen and offered his other cheek. Bobby was a religious kid and considered studying for the priesthood. After high school graduation, he entered Fordham, and in his junior year he was drafted into the Army. Rather than serve in a combat unit, he chose to serve in the Medical Corps, where he could render aid and comfort to the wounded. After the completion of his medical corps training, he was assigned to a ground force unit.

In Germany, at the risk of his own life, he treated and rescued some wounded GIs who were lying in an exposed area. For that heroic action under fire, he was awarded the Silver Star. A very short time later, while administering aid to the wounded, he himself was wounded by enemy fire, and on the following day he died in a U.S. Army hospital in Belgium. Bobby must have been a very brave young man, and one wonders whether the ones who called him "Sissy" would have been as courageous.

In the Town of East Hampton, there were nearly 40 young people who lost their lives while serving in the armed forces. Air crashes took the lives of Vincent Barsdis, Jimmy Corwin, Jack Dakers, Halsey Dayton, Bruce Ryan, and Adam Thompson. In the merchant marine, David Field and Tony Marasca were lost. Others died of disease and wounds in a war that encompassed the world. Pray God that we never have another.

Victor Cote was a rugged young high school kid who enjoyed playing football and wrestling for the Maroon and Gray. After graduation, he, like a number of his age around the country, enlisted in the service. On the day the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor, Victor was on the island of Luzon in the Philippines. He was among those Americans who surrendered, survived the Bataan Death March, and were imprisoned in Japan. Victor withstood the privations and tortures of the Japanese prisoner-of-war camps and was among those fortunate Allied servicemen who were liberated in 1945.

Herbie Byrnes, who grew up on Osborne Lane, was an aerial gunner on a B-17 Flying Fortress, assigned to the Eighth Air Force, based in England. On his last and 25th mission, his aircraft was shot down over the continent. Somehow the crew managed to land safely behind Allied lines, but it took some time before Herbie made it back to his base in England. A number of years later, after a Veterans of Foreign Wars meeting, he told me of his last mission.

He asked me, "Do you remember those days, before the war, when we went gunning down on Sammy's Beach and had a great time shooting at those poor coots, as they flew over the beach? Well, let me tell you something. When you are up in an airplane, flying over enemy territory, and those guys on the ground, behind those 88s are shooting at you, you are the coots, and it's not so much fun."

Among the young men from the Town of East Hampton who served in the Armed Forces in World War II, there were 31 Kings, 28 Bennetts, and 24 Millers. I wonder how many of those old East Hampton names are left in town?

When the GIs came home, they found a number of changes in the old town. The Montauk fishing village was gone, having been replaced by a naval installation. Further east, near the Lighthouse, there was an army installation which was constructed to resemble a New England hamlet, with its clapboard sided buildings. It was named Camp Hero.

At the Maidstone Club, only nine holes remained of the old 18-hole East Course. At Amagansett, the nine-hole golf course on Amagansett-Springs Road had been plowed up and turned into potato fields.

On the lighter side, the original Jungle Pete's in Springs had burned down and was replaced by a building moved from Three Mile Harbor Road. The old Candy Kitchen on Main Street next to White's Drugstore was now the headquarters building of the Veterans of Foreign Wars. The Continental, located in the LeRoy Edwards building, also on Main Street, was now the Blue Goose. It would later be Gene Labbat's cozy oasis, Chez Labbat. Down on Three Mile Harbor Road, Palma's Tavern, with its bowling alleys, was now owned by Peter Fedi.

The greatest change, however, was that unemployment, as we knew it in the 1930s, no longer existed, as work of all kinds was available to any young man. Building contractors hired veterans to learn building trades, and they were taught by the best teachers available, the old-time craftsmen who knew every phase of their craft. Most of those old-timers enjoyed passing their knowledge on to the young apprentices.

There was a scarcity of automobiles because it would take some time for the plants to change from war production to peacetime operation. A few GIs had some money, and one of their peacetime dreams was to own a new car. Local automobile mechanics did an excellent job keeping pre-war cars on the road. Lumberyards had difficulty obtaining lumber and building materials for the local contractors, as the demand for new homes and structures was greater than it had been since the building boom of the 1920s.

By 1948, the town was experiencing an economic boom, as new businesses were opening all over town, and the construction of new homes kept the contractors very busy. The 300th anniversary of the founding of East Hampton was commemorated that summer, and the pageant, held on the Village Green, climaxed the summer's activities. It, indeed, was a memorable year.

As a whole, most everything was inexpensive. For example, a group could rent a gallery in Guild Hall for an evening at a cost of $5, and the fee for the use of the kitchen was $1. The wage for union carpenters was $2.10 an hour, and No. 1 grade red cedar shingles were $11.50 per square. To build a house was not all that expensive, and, as times were good, many young people were building them. Interest rates on home mortgages were 4 1/2 percent. Truly, it was a great time to be alive.

On the local sports scene, East Hampton and Amagansett belonged to the newly created Sunrise League that played baseball on Sundays. After the war, the Village of East Hampton passed an ordinance that allowed baseball to be played on Sundays at the Herrick Playground. The Amagansett Fire Department sponsored the Amagansett team that was managed by Arthur Ryan. In some ways, they reminded the older fans of the old Brooklyn Robins when they were managed by Wilbert Robinson. They played their home games on the field where the American Legion building is located today.

Left field was on an incline, and the field itself left much to be desired. Ground balls took crazy hops, and sometimes the fielders stumbled over the rough terrain as they sped after fly balls. Like the Brooklyns of old, their fans were true-blue.

The rivalry between Amagansett and East Hampton was keen, similar to the old New York Giants and Brooklyn Dodgers rivalry. The two teams that were fighting for first place, most of the time were the Bridgehampton White Eagles and the Bridgehampton Blue Sox. Their's, too, was a keen rivalry. Among other teams in the league were Sag Harbor and Southampton. The old-time fans who followed town team baseball in the 1920 were delighted to see local baseball make a comeback. After a few years had elapsed, the enthusiasm wore off, and town team ball simply faded away.

(To Be Continued)

Sincerely,

NORTON (BUCKET ) DANIELS

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