Cliff Hall
Author / Voice Over Talent

Chapter 3

Guardian Angels Never Sleep

The story of your life is really the story of the relations between yourself and God.

—Emmet Fox

I couldn’t help but think about my grandfather as we departed Abilene heading for Germany. He had this look on his face that was so sad as he hugged each one of kids that morning. And why he couldn’t come with us was the mother of all questions for me. I was sure he wouldn’t have been that much trouble to take along. But as you might guess, Uncle Sam didn’t see things the way a four-year-old did because of my attachment to my grandfather was out of love. We were moving halfway around the world. So all I knew was that I probably wouldn’t see my grandfather again until we returned stateside. Whenever that was going to be. My mother, of course, did her best to explain it all to us kids, yet we were too young to understand it. Throughout the whole drive, we pretty much sat in silence. Then we reached New York City, where we were to catch the boat going over to Germany. I didn’t know though that this was going to be the last time I would ever lay eyes on my grandfather alive again. My Uncle Earl, my mother’s adopted brother, was supposed to be responsible for our grandfather’s care. But he didn’t want any part of being saddled with an elderly person. To him, he was more interested in the family property, which would be divided up between him and my mother should my grandfather die. He owned three farms. And if neither one of his children wanted them, they could easily be sold off and the money divided up. However, greed got the best of my uncle. So he decided he wanted it all. He put my poor grandfather in a nursing home shortly after we were gone. A place back then where old people go to die a slow death. After we had been in Germany for about six to eight months, my mother received the sad news that her father had passed away. Of course, she and us children were heartbroken over the loss, yet even stranger was the fact that while we were overseas. Somehow, my grandfather’s will was altered, leaving everything to my mother’s brother. I have to admit it was tough to think that a person such as him could ever do something like that to their own father and sibling. But Earl knew that my mother was in no position to fight him legally, not when we lived so far away. The inheritance itself was never challenged from that point on. Not to mention my mother was not able to attend her father’s funeral the way she had hoped to either, which, as you can guess, left quite a bitter taste in her mouth, enough that she never spoke to her brother again from that day forward. 

The Military Cruise Ship

It was a bright blue morning when we departed New York City harbor bound for Bremerhaven, Germany. And if I remember right, it was also in the springtime. We only had one scheduled stop along the way at Southampton, England. Then we would make our way up north to our final destination. I had never been on board a cruise ship before. So I didn’t quite know what to expect from the experience. The name of the vessel was the USS General Simon B. Buckner. A 9,676-ton light displacement class transport built by the Maritime Commission in January 1945, which the US Army took possession of in order to convert it into a sort of military dependents liner.  As strange as it might sound though, I do recall bits and pieces of the voyage. Things like the dining hall where families would meet to socialize and have meals together. I even recall the sound of the ship’s horn as it bellowed when we left port, then made our way out into the Atlantic Ocean, which seemed so endless to a youngster like me.
But one of the things, which stood out the most about this particular trip to me was waking up one afternoon in our stateroom where I found myself completely alone. I don’t know exactly how many days we had been out to sea by then or how this happened. But I do recall hearing my mother tell me years later that I had fallen asleep around seven thirty that evening, so she and my father decided not to disturb me. There was a movie playing at the onboard theater as well, which many of the mothers decided to take their children to see. Near as I can figure out from that point, my father must have decided to go to get a beer or something. He left me in cabin, thinking I wouldn’t wake up until he got back. I don’t know how I did it. But I somehow I managed to open the door to the stateroom. And as if no big deal made my way out into the corridor, which led to the deck area. I stood out on the deck itself looking about for a minute, trying to do my best to figure out where I wanted to start looking for my mother. Now imagine, if you will though, a four-year-old toddler—with no supervision whatsoever— strolling about on the deck of a large ship out in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, with the railing only a few feet away. Horrifying to think about, right! Now if that wasn’t a recipe for disaster, I don’t know what was. I wondered about for what seem like an eternity, watching the moonlight flicker off the ocean waves as they rolled by the ship side. A few minutes later, I was approached by a stranger. A man I had never met before who wore a dark-blue uniform that resembled a naval officer. I don’t recall his name exactly. But for the purpose of this tale, we will just call him Bill, and leave it at that. Of course, he seemed friendly enough. He glanced down at me with a smile. His rugged face did
show signs of concern added into it as well.