A TOAST TO MY FRIEND WHO WENT THROUGH HELL

He was pressed into service June, 1941 and left behind a close family, a growing marine construction business with his dad, and a special girl friend. After many months of training as an engineer they were issued winter clothes and then discovered they were headed for the tropics. Luckily, just before he left for Angel Island, Ft. McDowell and the Philippines, his mother and girl friend visited him. During the war in the Pacific he was declared missing. The next time they saw Bub was four years later in 1945 and it was at Mayo Army Hospital, Galesburg, Illinois where he was being debriefed, certified sane, and treated for stomach ulcers and malnutrition. His girl friend had waited for him, just knowing he was alive somewhere, and they were happily married for sixty-seven years, she died recently. His father had kept the business going, so Bub had a job when he was finally healed. He and Trig raised five children who turned out to be fine adults. In turn, to Bub’s delight, they produced many children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren. Now Bub considers himself 'ancient' at 94. All those kids spoil him in every way. Life finally was good; but his hard road in the Bataan Death March to Mukden is never forgotten. May he live to be a hundred.