LEONARD DEFRAIN ~ A PEEK AT HIS OWN PAST
by Janis Stein

Join in the continuation as Leonard DeFrain shares memories from the 1940s and beyond.

For a few years, Leonard spent his time picking up enough odd jobs to pay the bills and, in 1941, 10 days after the bombing of Pearl Harbor, Leonard fulfilled his draft notification. Leonard’s first stop was at Fort Custer in Battle Creek, where he took a physical and answered a battery of questions.

Leonard wanted to join the infantry, but when the Army learned Leonard had taken typing class in high school, they had different plans for him. Leonard tried to tell them his typing skills had diminished since he’d been out of school. In high school, he could type 40 words a minute on the manual machines of the day. Likely, that number had dropped to 30. When the Army asked Leonard if he would take a typing test, he conceded.

The next thing he knew, the Army placed him on a train bound for Chicago on New Year’s Eve, 1941. On New Year’s Day, Leonard spent his first day as a typist at Chicago’s recruiting and induction center.

Army personnel examined anywhere from 700 to 1,200 men each day at the induction center. Typists, like Leonard, often worked from 7 a.m. to 6 p.m., typing reports containing a recruit’s basic information: name, address, person to notify in case of emergency, etc. After the doctor examined the recruit, he wrote down his notes and the typist then added the additional information on the form. Typists relied on the floorwalker to aid them in deciphering some of the doctors’ writing, though after the typists got used to things, they could often read most of the notes.

Throughout the course of the day, Leonard met people from all lifestyles, and he found his time at the induction center interesting in many ways. One man came in requesting a free examination. When Army personnel realized he was bandaged from his neck to his ankles and suffering from syphilis, they got rid of him in a hurry. The Army needed soldiers to fill any number of positions to win the war – they didn’t need sick people.

One young man signed his initials on the form as “KP.” Leonard kidded the young recruit, telling him he would surely be on kitchen duty all the time! Other young men fell into epileptic fits, the seizures brought on because of the excitement. Some parents and other family members escorted their recruit to the induction center, making it known they didn’t want their son to go off to war. Outside disturbances caused so much raucous, eventually MPs stood guard by the door.

For the first year of service, Leonard spent his days typing. When civilians replaced many of the Army’s clerical staff at the induction center, Leonard gained a new job: recruiting. One such recruiting trip led Leonard to Dansville, Illinois, where 10 sons in one family proudly served the United States. Some of the men had already served and had been discharged and, while he paid his visit, Leonard recruited the tenth son.

Rather than live in an Army barracks, Leonard and his comrades were on rations and quarters, better known as R&Q. During the beginning months of his service, Leonard earned $21 each month, with $6.60 per day for room and board. To a young man with little in his pocket, the money sounded good, but Leonard soon learned his meager allowance disappeared all too quickly. Paying for three meals a day cost dearly and, when Leonard needed to find housing, he turned again to the YMCA for shelter.

Back at home, Leonard’s father, George, suffered a heart attack, and Leonard helped out from afar, the Army taking out an allotment from his wages to help his mother pay the bills. Other expenses included transportation and insurance. Because Leonard was required to wear a class A uniform at work, he added dry cleaning expenses to his monthly budget. When payday came, most soldiers needed every dime.

Leonard didn’t know any of the other fellows staying at the Y, but he had little time to socialize anyway. Working six days a week left just enough time on Sunday to rest. At work, Leonard became acquainted with a man who lived in Lincoln Park. Leonard decided to follow suit and moved to a hotel on the north side of Chicago, the hotel costing $6 per week. Leonard traveled the subway back to work each day, and one day faded into the next.

Since the Army no longer needed Leonard’s typing services, he began running the movie projector for those new recruits who had to wait after taking their physical. He also drove the staff car for a while, transporting some recruits to another hospital and, some, too, he picked up from jail – recruits sometimes came in so drunk, the MPs would take them first to jail to dry out since they were too intoxicated to undergo a physical.

During his time in Chicago, Leonard fell in love. He was on top of the world, despite the war raging halfway around the world.

Several months later, though, a “Dear John” letter sent Leonard in a downward spiral. Time away from home, the stress of the war in general and losing a love had taken a toll: Leonard experienced a breakdown of sorts, a breakdown that landed him in a VA hospital for rehabilitation.

Be sure to look for the continuation next month as Leonard reflects on his love for coaching children.

© 2008 Stein Expressions, LLC