Our family radio was on one Sunday afternoon late in 1941 when I heard a language I couldn’t understand projected from a voice I had never heard. My father said that I should listen to it even though I couldn’t understand what was being said, that I should never forget the sound. Some eight-one years later (April 2020) I still remember it well. At the end of this very long verbal assault on my ears, I heard the American host say that was Adolf Hitler reading from Mein Kampf. My attention was again tuned to another Sunday afternoon program when it was interrupted and I heard that the Japanese had bombed Pearl Harbor. The following day President Roosevelt delivered his famous Imfamy speech and Congress followed with its Declaration of War against Japan. Three days later, on December 11, 1941, we were at war against Germany. This was my introduction to the Second World War.
On yet another Sunday, I saw a photograph in the “Parade” section of the Philadelphia Bulletin showing a picture of a V-2 rocket superimposed over a collage of five Philadelphia munition depots (Frankford Arsenal, Naval Depot, etc.) with the heading boldly pronouncing “POSSIBLE BUT NOT PROBABLE.” I didn’t understand “probable” but learned quickly what it meant. The article within described how V-2s, if they were to hit Philly, would cause massive explosions encircling the city. Every night thereafter, I would dream that V-2 rockets were coming over the Tacony-Palmyra bridge which I could see from my bedroom window. I always woke up just before the explosions. In an attempt to chase the nightmares, during the day I would I gazed at the bridge while defining in my mind the difference between possible and probable and, of course, hoping that the dreams would end. They did, finally, on V-E day: May 8, 1945. The celebrations that followed were unforgettable and I was at peace as the world began its recovery.