Coming Home

The U.S. Navy's camp at Happy Valley, near Chungking, was shutting down in early 1946 and my father was getting ready to come home. As the last American officer at Happy Valley, he was ordered to liquidate the supplies there, including all of the vehicles, arms and ammunition, then close down the camp.

Don had grown frustrated by the rampant corruption he'd seen in China during the six months he'd spent there. That was especially true during his final month at Happy Valley, as he watched high-ranking Chinese officers carry away crate loads of valuable American gear and supplies for their personal stash. He cabled General Tai Li in Shanghai explaining the situation, but Tai Li cabled back, "You have your orders." So whenever possible, Don gave the Navy's belongings to impoverished monasteries nearby. That rankled the corrupt Chinese officers, but they couldn't complain about it because they knew he'd snitch on them to his superiors if they did.

After Don shut down the U.S. Navy camp at Happy Valley, he boarded a sampan (a traditional Chinese boat) and, with a large crew guiding the way, he floated down the Yangtze River to Shanghai, sitting on the bow for much of the journey while smoking cigars. It was one of the most memorable and enjoyable events of his stay in China, he said later. He didn't realize it at the time, but more than 50 years later he would float down the Yangtze River once again, but this time on a comfortable, commercial tour boat.

After Don arrived in Shanghai in January 1946, General Tai Li sent him an invitation to meet in the general's office. My dad accepted the invitation but had some trepidations because Tai Li was a feared and powerful man.

Don's fears were unfounded, however, because during their meeting, the general offered my father a promotion as well as a house with several servants, a new car and a large salary if Don would stay in China and continue training the Nationalist troops to fight the insurgent Communist army. Don wanted to accept the position, so he eagerly called Anne back in the U.S. and described to her Tai Li's generous offer. He asked Anne if she'd like to come over to China and live there for the next few years. Anne had been living at her mother's house in Bismarck, North Dakota for the past eight months while Don was in China, and she had her hands full taking care of their one-year old daughter, Dorothy.

Anne wasn't enthused about moving to China, though. In fact, as my father recalled years later with a sheepish grin, "She told me to get my butt home." Don therefore turned down General Tai Li's considerable offer and, indeed, "got his butt home." He spent a few more weeks in Shanghai, then boarded a U.S. Navy destroyer escort, the U.S.S. Richey, that was heading back to America. The ship had been named – in a sense, coming full circle for Don – after a U.S. Navy ensign who was killed on December 7, 1941 during the surprise Japanese attack that had plunged America into World War II and which inspired him to volunteer for the navy the next day.

Don's Last Letter to Anne
Before Coming Home

My father wrote this letter from Shanghai a few days before he boarded a ship to return to America after being overseas for nine months.

Shanghai, China

February 7, 1946

My Dearest Anne & Dorothy:

Boy honey am I walking on air. I go home on the first available transportation for mustering out in Seattle. Will be leaving here in a day or two for the receiving ship and should be leaving Shanghai for the states within two weeks. That means I should be home sometime in March. I'm so excited about getting home I can hardly sit still long enough to write this.

I went down to try and send telegrams to you and the folks but was disappointed on that score. There was a sign there saying that because of strikes in the states telegrams could only be sent to New York, D.C., or Frisco. I thought those strikes had been settled by now but I guess not.

I no more than land in a place when I have to start packing again but this time I don't mind a bit.

That's about all for now so goodnight Darling. It's going to be heaven being with you and little Dorothy again honey.

All my Love

Don

Don carried his gear onboard the U.S.S. Richey in Shanghai, along with a few boxes filled with souvenirs that he'd salvaged from Happy Valley. The boxes included a gleaming Smith-Corona typewriter that would've otherwise found its way into the hands of a Chinese officer in Chungking, as well as a brand new 30.06 rifle. I was surprised when my dad told me that in 2002 because I never once saw him fire a gun. Indeed, the wartime stories he told me were a surprise since he was about the last person I could ever imagine who would harm someone, given his quiet and peaceful demeanor. But as he told me, he had a job to do during the war, so he did it.

The crew on the U.S.S. Richey warned Don that crossing the central Pacific in February could be rough, but Don bragged to everyone on board that he was an old Navy man who never got seasick. The Richey left Shanghai in early February and, not surprisingly, soon encountered a tremendous storm. Don's bunk was in the rear of the ship, just above the propellers, and as the ship bobbed in the western Pacific plowing through the towering waves, the stern repeatedly came up out of the water, then crashed back down.

Sure enough, Don got sick – very sick, in fact, and for the rest of the trip, the crew teased him about being an old Navy man who "never got seasick." After the storm, it was a pleasant and smooth crossing across the Pacific and, following a brief stopover in Honolulu, the Richey pulled into a berth at a Navy dock in San Pedro, California. It was the same berth, in fact, from which Don had left America nine months earlier bound for India. From there he was going to head north by train to his parent's house in Skykomish, Washington. Anne and young Dorothy were planning to meet him there and, with the war now over, start their life together.

It was fortunate, in retrospect, that my father had turned down General Tai Li's generous offer to stay in China, because the general was killed in a plane crash shortly after their meeting, about the time my dad was crossing the Pacific on his way back to the U.S. And three years after the plane crash (which was determined to be an accident and not sabotage), China fell to the Communists. Some historians have argued that if Tai Li hadn't died in the crash, the fate of China might have been very different. My father wasn't concerned about any of that, however, because he was simply elated about being back home. And with his wife, Anne, he was looking forward to starting their new journey.

Above left: The Glen Line building on the waterfront was the U.S. Navy's headquarters in Shanghai after the war.

Above left: Riding on the destroyer escort, the U.S.S. Richey, across the Pacific in February 1946, heading back home after the war.

Above left: Docked at crowded Pearl Harbor in Hawaii during Don's return to America.

Above right: His dinner menu in Honolulu. This was Don's first "American" meal in nine months.

Above: My mother, who was waiting back in North Dakota, was excited to get this telegram from Don (the ship actually docked at San Pedro, California, not Charleston, South Carolina). Coming home at last!

Don resumed his studies at Western Washington University in Bellingham in the spring of 1946. Anne enrolled, too, but quit a few months later after becoming pregnant with their second child. After graduating in 1947, Don taught elementary school for a few years, then he earned a doctorate at Columbia University in New York City with help from the G.I. Bill.

He became a professor of Education at Michigan State University in 1954, then the Dean of the School of Education at San Jose State in 1968 and finally, in 1980, the Dean of Education at Portland State University. He spent much of his career planning and building schools in developing countries around the world and, partly from that, in 1994, he was named one of Western Washington University's 10 Most Distinguished Alumni of the past century.

He retired in 1987 and he and Anne moved back to Bellingham, near Western. Anne passed away in 1999 and Don in 2002. During their lives they raised five children, all with names starting with the letter "D," including Del, their youngest, who wrote this story.