Readers Remember

My brother Mike was heading home from serving in the Air Force in England to be discharged in August 1945. I hadn’t seen my brother in 3 1/2 years.

I was one of the sailors on a troop train leaving Sampson, N.Y., bound for the West Coast.

At Indianapolis, two troop trains stopped side by side, separated by about 20 feet of concrete. Guys were hollering out, where are you from? One of my buddies two cars ahead of mine heard a shout: Youngstown, Ohio. Come to find out it was my brother Mike. I got to see him for about five minutes before his train pulled out.

What are the odds of two brothers meeting like this? It’s something I will never forget.

AL ORLANDO

Downey

During World War II, sharing and sacrifice were the accepted way of life for Americans. With shoes, sugar, meat, butter and gasoline all rationed, people cheerfully swapped or donated what others needed. If a husband, son or brother was coming home on leave, gifts of coupons or food ensured his sitting down to a royal feast. Whoever dared hoard anything that was in short supply became the neighborhood pariah.

When victory finally came, we civilians rejoiced in the fact we had helped bring it about. Whether on the home front or in the military, we were all in it together.

MARILYN JENSEN

La Habra

In 200 words or less, send us your memories, comments or eyewitness accounts of the 20th century. Write to Century, Los Angeles Times, Times Mirror Square, Los Angeles, CA 90053, or e-mail [email protected]. Letters may be edited for space.