Recipes for Living Bob and Jean Oehlert

My parents, Herschel Allen Oehlert, Sr., and Emily Cecile Baldwin Oehlert, raised their family on a farm near Woodburn, Iowa, during the Depression years. Life was far from easy but we didn't think of ourselves as poor, because everyone was in the same straits as we. There were four boys: Herschel Allen, Jr.(we called him Allen), Joseph Donovan whom we called JD, and my twin and I, William and Robert Oehlert (Bill and Bob.)

We boys not only had the outstanding influence of our parents but our grandparents whom we knew well. Dad and mother lived on their farm. They were the kindest, most generous people I could ever hope to know. It is a small example but so typical that when the platter of chicken was passed at our family dinners, Grandpa didn't take a breast or thigh, he took the neck. I think of it as amazing that at eight years old, I came to the correct conclusion that he was the greatest man who ever lived. He came from Germany in 1871, and married our grandmother, whose maiden name was Penick. He died at the age of 86, from a fall while he was tearing down a house. My father also died when he was 86. Mother lacked five months of living to be 100.

Bill's life story is in the 3rd Volume of Recipes for Living, where he told about our childhood of receiving a good basic education during eight years of attending a rural school, Jackson No. 8, called the Lowe school. He mentioned a baseball team we gathered, including the four of us boys, in competition with the kids in town school. We had quite a rivalry. Bill and I graduated from the Woodburn High School, Allen and JD graduated from Clarke in Osceola.

Having become a parent, I can only imagine the trauma for our parents when all four sons were in the military service. The oldest, Herschel Allen Jr., enlisted in the Air Force while he as a student at the University of Northern Iowa. He had just completed his third year, having taken time off for one year to teach and earn enough to pay his tuition. I remember that in 1940 he recorded his prediction of war with Japan.

He was a Navy pilot, flying off Henderson Field in Guadalcanal. He volunteered for a mission. The commander of the squadron, Lt. Commander Van Voorhies, was the pilot of the plane, and Allen was the co-pilot. It was a night mission, 700 miles north of Guadalcanal. Their target was a Japanese installation, which was a communication center and weather station. There were three Japanese 'fighters that got off the ground. Allen's plane made six strafing runs over the target to knock out the installation, and on their seventh, they were flying so low, they were caught in their own bomb blast and killed. It was a mission he volunteered for and it didn't pay off. Their heroism was awarded with the pilot receiving the Congressional Medal of Honor, and Allan was awarded the Navy cross. They are buried in the National Cemetery in St. Louis.

I have a copy of the citation when he was awarded the Navy cross: "Secretary of the Navy, Washington D.C.: The President of the United States takes pride in presenting the Navy Cross posthumously to Lt. Jr. Grade Herschel Allen Oehlert, Jr., United States Naval Reserve. Service as set forth in the following. Citation: For extraordinary heroism as co-pilot of a bombing plane attached to Bombing Squadron 102, operating against the enemy at Japanese held Greenwich Island during the battle of the Solomon Islands, on July 6, 1943. Fully aware of the limited chance of surviving an urgent mission, voluntarily undertaking to aid in preventing a surprise Japanese attack against our forces, Lt. Jr. Grade Oehlert rendered gallant service through out the perilous 700 mile flight in total darkness through treacherous winds and without escort or support. Over the target he remained cool and courageous as his plane forced lower and lower by pursuing aircraft executed six bold, ground level attacks to annihilate the enemy's vital radio station, installations, anti-aircraft guns and personnel, and to destroy one hostile plane in the air and three on the water. Crashing into the lagoon off the beach when his plane was caught in its own bomb blast, Lt. Jr. Grade Oehlert has made a decisive contribution to Mission Completed in spite of almost insurmountable odds and by his valiant devotion to duty has enhanced the finest traditions of the United States Naval Service. He gallantly gave his life for his country. For the President, James Forestall, Secretary of the Navy."

Before that Allen flew PBYs, a Navy patrol plane. In November 1942, he was one of the crew who found Eddie Rickenbacker. This was a famous name in those years, and the Osceola Public Library has a copy of his autobiography. He had been in World War I and now he was a U.S. aviator in W.W. II. He tells in detail about the night the plane went down as they attempted to fly to Australia. They could not make contact so no one knew where they were. It became obvious they were lost, and crashed into the ocean. They were adrift in rafts. They checked their supplies, which included no water, four small oranges, a half dozen chocolate bars which the salt water had turned into green mush, and they discarded. Details of how all the crew but one survived the inadequate protection from the cold nights and sun beating down on them during the days, no water or food, and no knowledge of when or if they might be rescued. This continued for 24 days. Finally, on Friday, November 13, the sound of Navy planes were heard and they were rescued! Allen had a hand in that. The Woodburn Legion Post is named for him.

The tragedies of war were not only devastating to parents, but in Allen's case, he was engaged to be married to a girl he met while he was in college at Cedar Falls. Five years later she married a fine man in Sioux City. He died in 1990. I had a letter from her that she had written about six weeks ago, telling me she was going to have surgery and asking me to come to Sioux City to see her. I visited with her daughter and she said, "Come as soon as you can." Her mother had a brain tumor and died within three weeks. She was so much in love with Allen; she still wore the engagement ring he had given her. The daughter handed me 54 letters my brother had written to her mother. I began reading them, but I only read two before it began to seem like a violation of their privacy. She always remained close to our family. For all those years she sent cards to Mother on Mothers' Day, and mailed her the Readers Digest.

JD was always a good student. He graduated in 1938 from Clarke Community High School with the highest scholastic record ever achieved in that school. He was not valedictorian because his first two years of high school were at Woodburn. He went to the University of Iowa for two years and enlisted in the service. He was a P38 pilot and finished his college at USC (University of Southern California). After his discharge, he finished his life as budget director for the city of San Jose.

As Bill told his story in Volume 3 of Recipes for Living, "After graduation from high school, I was Dad's farm hand for awhile, then worked at the ordnance plant in Ankeny in 1944. I continued to work there until I received my notice from the draft board. Dad got me a deferment for farm work until October, 1945, when I was drafted and entered the service that winter. During my service years, I saw a good bit of the United States and had some overseas experience.

"My induction was in Fort Snelling, Minnesota; for basic training I went by train to Ft. McClellan, Alabama. While I was there, I became ill and was diagnosed with pneumonia. They kept me in the hospital for two weeks, in reconditioning for six and I had one week furlough, during which I came home. When I returned, I had nine weeks basic training then was sent to Camp Polk, Louisiana. I spent six months there in the Quartermaster Corps, which was responsible for getting rations out to the companies in training.

"From there we were sent to Ft. Sill, Oklahoma for three or four months, then to Camp Stoneman, California, which was near Oakland. From there we were transported by boat to Japan and were stationed on the northern Island of Hokkiado, near Sapporo, until September, 1947, when we went by rail back to Yokohama. We boarded a ship, sailed around the southern tip of Japan and went up through the Sea of Japan. Our port of call was Seoul, South Korea, where we picked up some army men who were returning to the States. I will never forget how happy they were to get on the ship and return to the states. They had a strong feeling that something was going to break loose between North and South Korea, which did develop several years later.

"We left that port and spent about 30 days getting back to San Francisco on a big, old troop transport, the C.G. Morton. We hit port in September, 1947, and were at Camp Stoneman for two weeks before being mustered out of the service. I was back to Woodburn in October, 1947."

Bob continued: I enlisted in the Marine Corp in June 1943, when I was 17 years of age. I had my boot training in San Diego, and asked to be in the Marine Air Corp. I took some of my training in Norman, Oklahoma in gunnery school, at the same time Gerald Edwards was there. He was in the Navy, and the Navy trained the Marines. From there I was sent to Cherry Point, North Carolina, where I was trained in B25, the Mitchell Bomber. I was a tail gunner and was sent to the Southwest Pacific. We went to Hawaii, Palmyra, Canton, the island Eddie Rickenbacker was brought to when he was rescued. I flew off an island possibly spelled Emiru. Without attempting to name them all, we went from island to island and then Guadalcanal. We did a lot of flying over a Japanese harbor, which we bombed.

When the war ended in August 1945, we were on R and R (rest and recreation) in Australia. That was an experience! That night the Brisbane streets were jam-packed! A lot of their men were in the military. I was about everywhere in the South Pacific but we fly-boys weren't in the toughest part of it. We could look out and see the flak and know what was happening, but it was the guys on the ground that caught it. I flew 35 combat missions while I was overseas and was discharged in April, 1946.

In my opinion, World War II was a war of necessity, but I question others. I went to the Vietnam Memorial when I attended the graduation of my granddaughter from Georgetown University. It was the most chilling experience I have had. I looked down the wall of 58,000 names of Americans who died, and had to ask myself, "For what reason?"

After I was discharged, I farmed and was a rural mail carrier. Jean Marie Mason and I were married on January 2, 1946. We are the same age and both attended Woodburn School. We shall soon celebrate our 60th anniversary. She's been a champ. She has had everything in the world go wrong with her. In 1983, she had ovarian cancer and underwent chemotherapy. In '84, she had colon cancer. In 1993, she had an angiogram and had to have it done over. In '98, she had a hip replaced, in 2000, she had a hip replaced, and she is currently recovering from surgery, having had four heart by-passes. She has been through the mill, but you could never tell it to look at her. She looks, thinks, and acts young.

I started carrying mail in 1949, and on December 28, 1961, I had an experience I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. I played Santa Claus in the Woodburn Methodist Church for Christmas and various kids came to sit on my lap. One was a little boy whose family lived on my mail route. One day there were three little kids playing at the top of a hill. The nature of roads in southern Iowa is lots of hills, no ditches. At the bottom of the hill, this little boy was absorbed in making a snow ball. The kids yelled at him to get out of the way, but instead he panicked and ran out onto the road. I did everything I could to avoid him but I ran over him and killed him. His parents took it well because they knew there was nothing I could have done to prevent it. That didn't remedy the situation and there is not a day of my life that I don't think about him.

That concluded my mail carrying. Whenever I passed that house, I felt pain. I couldn't do it any longer. I continued to farm, until I sold it in 1971 and moved to Indianola. I became a commodities broker, and I am still in the markets. They have treated me very well. Duane Sandage from Ames and I have a close working relationship. At one time Duane was the largest land broker in the United States, and his three children have done very well. He is a very charitable man, always helping people in distress. Jim Schipper used to work for him when Duane owned the bank in Ames.

Our daughter Karen went to school in Osceola, and graduated in 1966. She married Chris Friedlander from Scarsdale, New York, whom she met when they were both attending Drake University in Des Moines. They were married in 1970. He started a discount clothing store that grew into a company that has 2,000 employees. Their son, Samuel Corey, graduated from Vanderbilt University and did his graduate work at a film school in USC (University of Southern California). He has currently been nominated for several awards in that connection. Our granddaughter graduated from Georgetown.