I was just one week past my ninth birthday when the day of infamy occurred...December 7, 1942. My father was already in the army and due to be discharged, but because America was now at war, he was kept in the service and sent to Australia where he would spend the whole of WWII as a medic. He and my mother were divorced and she was going with a fellow by the name of Andy who was drafted and sent to Ft. Niagara, NY, where he would spend the whole of WWII as head baker. He actually had been sent overseas, but was returned when they found out his two brothers had just been killed on D-Day.
Mom worked as secretary to the lieutenant in charge of the PX, and I was given a pass to enter the fort anytime I chose to do so. I loved eating at the PX...the hamburgers were thick and delicious, as were the milkshakes that were made with real ice cream. Andy, Mom and I would go to the movie on base for ten cents. There were German POW's kept at the fort and some of them worked in the same office as my mother. They would greet me with their thick German accents every time I arrived to meet my mom for dinner and a show. One of them even made a bowl for my mother. Many of them liked the US so much (even as a prisoner) that they fought to come back after the war. Bet that wasn't true of American soldiers that were held in German or Japanese camps as POWs. The fort is gone now and a public park has taken its place, but the Officers Club is still there to bring back memories.
East Amherst, NY