A veteran’s birthday

Today would have been my father’s eighty-fifth birthday.

All my earlier blog entries have been about historical facts, or speculations, that I discovered through family research. Today is a bit different. I feel like writing about my father; and I cannot think of any facts that my family history research has revealed about “Doc.”

Dad’s name was Eugene Watts. He signed his name as “Eugene J. Watts,” but Joseph was not a middle name given at birth. It was his Catholic Confirmation name, which he bore with the pride that I am sure would have please the Bishop. When he was alive I did not know this, but Dad was not the first “Eugene” in the family. He had a granduncle with the same name; but I do not know if Doc knew that, or if Dad was named in honor of that gentleman. (So, I guess my family history research did give me some new fact about Doc—or at least his name.)

My father was a relatively quiet man, who very effectively and efficiently lived his life based on a few core principles. He was not loud or gregarious. He possessed a knack for economy of words, which is a trait that he did not pass along to his offspring. Although he did, surprisingly, leave us one poem, I have never seen a letter, diary, or story written by him. Never more than a crisp, factual, two or three sentence note. However, one day he felt compelled to leave a summary of his Army experience. This being Doc’s birthday, and with Veteran’s day having just past, I thought that I would share Dad’s characteristically concise chronology of his war experience.

Like many men of his age, and slightly older, Dad served in World War II. Moreover, like many of that number, his life was irreversibly changed by that service. In Doc’s case, there was a physical change, which the Veteran’s Administration categorized as a 40% disability—and a scar on this leg that was still pretty darn impressive three decades later. Although I have no real evidence as to how the experience changed him emotionally and spiritually, I have no doubt that it did—and that it therefore shapes me.


Anyway, the below words are my father’s. Hats off to him, and those he mentions, including my uncle Ralph “Juni” Watts, and Dad’s buddy Don Corrigan. We miss ya all.

--------------------------

Eugene Watts
USA #32929808
March 1943 – October 1945

Inducted March 30th, 1943
Fort Niagara—April 1st, 1943
Sent to Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri, for basic training (75th Division)
First furlough—October 1943
Home of 5 day pass Christmas 1943
Maneuvers in Louisiana, January 1943
Start of journey “overseas”—to Camp Polk, La.
Then to Camp Mead, Md.
Next to Camp Shanks, NY
Left Port of New York 3:30AM March 23rd, on a “liberty ship.”
Landed Belfast, Ireland, April 4th
Based in Coleraine, Northern Ireland
Shipped to Bristol, England May 1944 (Westminster)
Left from South Hampton, England, and landed on Omaha Beach June 13th.
Assigned Company L—115th regiment, 29th Division.
In battles at St. Lo, Percy, St. Germain, Vire, and Brest, France.
Wounded at Brest, Sept. 12th, 1944, right leg broken by shrapnel.
(Sometime between St. Lo and Brest, had a visit from Ralph, whom I had not seen in almost two years.)
Sent to evacuation hospital in France, placed in a “body cast.”
Returned to England via L.S.T (Navy landing craft)
Move to Army hospital at Southampton, England.
Shrapnel removed from right thigh after infection developed.
Left Southampton Sept. 21st, 1944 and moved to 74the General Hospital at Bristol, England.
Traction applied.
While there had a visit from Don who was stationed in England with the Air Force.
Taken out of traction and again placed in body cast for shipment home.
Moved to 110th General Hospital for P.O.E. (point of embarkation)
(met Miss O’Mara here, she was an Army nurse from Buffalo—Mariemont St.)
Left the 110th on Dec. 6th 1944 Army hospital ship.
Hospital ship landed Charleston, S.C. Dec. 25th AM (Christmas)
Sent to Stark General Hospital. Called home from there Christmas morning.
Then sent to Battey General Hospital at Rome, Georgia.
Leg brace applied Feb. 1st, 1945
Home on furlough shortly after leg brace applied (Feb.)
Sent to Camp Edwards, Mass. For rehabilitation.
Home on furlough again in August.
Discharged from Army Oct. 30th 1945.
Again met Ralph, both coming home, discharged. His train from N.Y. made connections with mine from Mass., at Albany, N.Y.
(A strange coincidence to end this short story.)

Monsieur Vauthrin?

The US Census records are consistent on the fact that my second great-grandparents were born in France. I am one-eighth French—12%.

I know that early Buffalo (my hometown) had French Churches. Due to a significant representation of Franco-Americans, the Buffalo volunteer fire department’s Engine 8 was know as “French 8.” There is a French and German Cemetery in nearby Cheektowaga. All this caused me to wonder about the community of French immigrants. Perhaps understanding more about their community, I could get some additional insights regarding my ancestors.

I posted a message on RootsWeb.com’s Erie County New York message board, mentioning some of my ancestors’ names, and indicating that I would be grateful for any insights about French immigrant society in mid-1800's Buffalo, NY.

Someone responded!

He provided some information about the small French community, and inquired about my ancestors’ religion. He also pointed out (the common reaction) that WATTS does not "look French." He wondered, “could it have been changed from something else?”

It turns out, that responder is professional genealogist, in Buffalo, specializing in Catholic families. His name is Glenn R. P. Atwell—and you would be amazed at the data he has compiled from Buffalo’s Catholic churches and cemeteries. Luckily, for me, Frenchmen with such an apparently non-French surname intrigued Mr. Atwell. I engaged Mr. Atwell for some brief but extremely insightful research, which proved a great investment.

It turns out that our family name was VAUTHRIN. How that became WATTS is still a mystery.

In later posts, I go into some details.