Page 81 - Armstrong Bloodline - ebook_Neat

rolling several times, the tank finally came to a bone-jarring stop, some distance below. With the luck of the
seriously inebriated, my father's companions were somewhat shaken up but not badly hurt. My father,
however, was not so fortunate. As the tank pitched over the embankment, he was thrown forward and the
gear stick pierced his belly and protruded through his back.

Later, at the hospital, his company commander came to visit him and asked what in the world had happened.
My father, in his best “what the hell” manner informed him that he had gotten drunk, stole a tank, and rolled
it down a cliff. Apparently, this concise rendition of the facts struck a responsive chord with his Lieutenant who
arranged to cover up the whole incident. My father's military and medical records make no mention of the
incident, but merely indicated that he was hospitalized with a (severe but certainly believable) case of
gonorrhea!

While in Newfoundland, he received word that his mother was very sick and returned home for 10 days of
emergency leave. His mother – Edna –had suffered from diabetes for years and, as insulin had not yet been
discovered as a treatment, she had experienced increasing problems with the disease over the years. Although
her health remained fragile, she somehow managed to recover from this particular setback. At this time, my
mother, Arlin Anderson, was working at the Butler Building in Minneapolis and had met and befriended Verna
Marie Bloom, the daughter of Merle Marie (Armstrong) Bloom, my father's eldest sister. They had become
good friends and by this time were sharing an apartment. It was during my father's visit on emergency leave
that Verna introduced him to my mother.

I can only imagine how my mother must have enjoyed the incredible feeling of freedom and independence
that living in Minneapolis must have given her. She had grown up in a small town and in a relatively cloistered
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environment, so as the war moved toward an end, the experience must have been heady indeed. I can also
imagine the impression this tall, handsome, self-assured soldier must have had on her.

As indicated above, Grandma Armstrong recovered from her setback, and my father returned to
Newfoundland to complete his tour of duty. During this period, he and my mother began to correspond. In
1945 he returned to Minneapolis for 45 days of R&R and he and mom began seeing a lot of each other. It was
during this same period that Germany surrendered. From here he was transferred to Medford, Oregon and
then to the Army’s Camp Cook, in Lompoc, CA (now known as Vandenberg Air Force Base) where he served as
1st. Sgt. at a German prisoner of War Camp.

My mother and father's correspondence
continued and according to him, mom
contacted him while he was there and told
him that she was pregnant. He, in turn,
arranged for her to join him in Santa
Barbara, California just prior to his honorable
discharge from the Army on September 22,
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1945. They were married at the
Congregational Church in Santa Barbara on
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September 25, 1945. Per my father, it
soon became clear that my mother was not
pregnant, but he looks back at this short
period as perhaps the best time of their
married life. It also did not take them many
months until mom became pregnant for real.

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