One day I stopped by my parents home to chat with them. As I mentioned in an earlier WWII story told me by my father, he was a master sergeant in the Army Air Corp serving as the chief armourer in the 386th Bomb Squadron. His unit would be in New Guinea, Philippines, Okinawa and other places. By this time of my life, I had been in the army and had served with a combat battalion in Vietnam, but not in a combat MOS. We occassionally recounted war stories to each other.
Over a cup of coffee, I asked Dad, what they did for fun during his island hopping days in the Pacific. Dad, thought for a second and then replied, sometimes we played baseball or football, but the most fun was the poker games. Now I knew that my Dad enjoyed playing poker, something he did on a fairly regular basis with his friends when I was growing up. Now during the start of this conversation my mother was in another part of their house, so she'd not heard my question.
Dad then explained to me that most of the time their airfield was in the middle of no where, so any money they got on payday was pretty much useless to them. No place to spend it. So, with each payday, Dad said maybe 1/2 or more of men in his squadron, officers and enlisted men, began playing poker. The poker games could go on around the clock for a week till some one or two very lucky/skilled guys won all the money.
Just as I asked Dad, if he ever had any luck winning in the poker games in the Pacific, my Mother walked into our room. But she was standing behind my Father, so he didn't know she was in the room, Dad's answer was, well one payday I began a hot streak that lasted for two or so days, probably had won over $1500. I could see my Mother's face go from happy to one I easly recognized as OH OH! Dad sealed his fate when he then said, but my luck ran cold and lost most of it the next day or two of playing. Mother erupted with those words.
You see, Mom and Dad had married early in 1943 and his Squadron was sent overseas a few months before my older brother was born. Mom began chewing out my Dad for not sending any of the poker money home to her, with her trying to make ends meet, taking care of a baby by herself, on Dad's allotment check. I've left out the more colorful words Mom used. Before Dad could say anything, Mom stormed out of the room.
I just shook my head and commented, guess Mom had never heard this war story before. Then I asked Dad, why didn't you send Mom any of the money? He shrugged his shoulders and replied, Hell I couldnt. Enlisted men could only send home money equal to what they actually received on payday. Your mother got most of my army paycheck. I only got about $15 on payday. Then he commented, don't know what she could have done with the money I received overseas. We were always paid with money of where we were. So if I was on an island that had belonged to the Dutch before the war, then we were paid in Dutch currency printed by our government. She'd had a hard time spending it back home.
Never did ask Dad if he explained that to Mom.
