Big Dad Stories

1st if you haven't added yourself to the list please do so at MANDATORY SOUND OFF.

Big Dad told me a handful of stories when I was in Kindergarten and 1st Grade before he died. Luckily he told me the same stories over and over again often enough that I remember them. I found out after his death that he hadn't shared these with the entire family. Some of the things he told me aren't appropriate for a 1st grader to hear but that is what made them so good.

Hmm... where to begin.

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Frank Retzlaff (later to be known as Frank Retzlaff, Sr. and "Big Dad) was somewhat older than the rest of the boys who enlisted in the Texas National Guard during World War 2. His being just 4-6 (fuzzy memory) years older made him a big brother figure to all the raw 18 year olds who signed up to avoid being drafted. He became very popular and apparently also did some cooking for the men in his barracks.

Routine Inspection was a part of their lives, a part that was often failed. The extremely high standards of cleanliness were difficult to maintain, but not for Big Dad. With spare cash he had purchased duplicate items such as a shaving kit. This second kit, he never used. It's silver pristine blades and combs always looked brand new. Others in the group were often told to keep their footlocker as nicely as Retzlaff. Sometime during this time he got promoted to what I assume is a PFC.

The Drill sergeant would periodically announce an unplanned hike. This hike would require your rifle and full pack, about 60 pounds of stuff, and last at least 3 or 4 hours. Usually they would return to the base before nightfall. Big Dad didn't want to carry all that stuff so he loaded up his pack with wads of newspaper. This worked fine until one hike when they called for the recruits to make camp for the night unexpectedly. He had nothing! Luckily his buddies let him sleep in their tent, threw their coats over him and gave him their four rations which he cooked into 5 meals.

He was later stationed at some kind of supply depot in North Africa. At one point he got a two week pass to go to Paris to take an army cooking class. I have no idea what an army cooking class might look like but that does matter because neither did Big Dad. He only showed up on the last day, having spent the previous 13 doing things that are not appropriate to tell a 1st grader. Anyway, on that one day he learned to make split-pea soup. At the end of the day he got his certificate just like all the poor slobs who turned up for the entire course.

Back at the Supply depot, Big Dad was exposed to dozen of broken down old jeeps and various parts. They were considered scrap by the army and not really catalogued well. He took it upon himself to build himself a Frankenstein Jeep made of spare parts from the rubble of old jeeps. He was the only PFC in North Africa to have his own Jeep! He would drive himself and his buddies into town every now and then to do things that you shouldn't tell a 1st grader.

When he was being shipped out, he did his best to beg, bribe and sneak his Frankenjeep onto the ship they were going home on. The crane operator was busy, the gangplank was too narrow... problems prevented him from getting it on board. Eventually they sailed way, with his custom jeep idling on the end of the dock. Big Dad always ended this story by wondering whatever became of the old Jeep.

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Well there you have it. These are perhaps the most prized memories I have of my maternal grandfather. I feel somewhat odd sharing them on the internet but I suppose it's best his memory live on in case I'm in some kind of fiery automobile accident.