I am Raymond Renaud, Sr., born May 27, 1916.
Father: Alexandre Renaud
Mother: Rosalie Rodier Renaud
I was the 6th born of 8 children.
2nd born, Bertha died in infancy. Yvonne and Terri were born in Mary Lane Hospital.
All children born at home at 52 Aspen Street, Ware, MA. Dr. Gafney delivered all of us.
Lived in 4th tenement house on ground floor, left apartment and 1 bedroom in attic and 1 bedroom, large kitchen and living room used as bedroom by my parents and I. They had a double bed and I slept on a chesterfield. I didn't bother them, because they had 2 girls after I was born.
We had no electricity and washed in iron kitchen sink. Saturday was bath time and father put large galvanized wash tub in middle of kitchen floor to wash in. I don't remember sequence of baths, but were left to bathe.
Had only large cast ion stove in kitchen to heat and cook by.
Toilet was in corner of kitchen at front entry door from street. Toilet had wood box above toilet for water reservoir and toilet paper was Sears Roebuck catalogue.
Monday was wash day. Dad brought in wooden wash machine with udder-like drive to stir clothes. This was turned by a big wheel. I think there was a wringer and 2 rinsing tubs. Young as I was, I helped my Mom as much as I could because I felt sorry for all the work she had with all us kids.
Icebox was in front hall at kitchen door. I was the elected one to empty water pan under icebox. I was also paid 10 cents weekly by Aunt Lina to go to their house every night to dispose of their garbage. Some went to the chickens and some in outside pail. Our Saturday meal was beans. My Mom made up a big baking container of beans all culled and washed and soaked overnight. All ingredients added and early Sat. morning I'd take the beans in my wagon (summer) and sled in (winter) to Chaput's Bakery to bake all day in a brick oven--cost 25 cents. I'd go get it at suppertime. Always took small spoon with me to take a taste of beans. We ate supper of beans and had enough left over to take bean sandwiches to school a good part of the week.
School: A French convent was almost a mile from our house and we walked it. Baby grade (we called it) up to the 8th grade. We brown bagged it. No school lunch in those days. Studied French 1/2 half day and Enghsh 1/2 day. I think I was intimidated by nuns. I was mediocre in school until 1926 when a compassionate nun named St. Mathilda took me in tow and had new life. I kept in touch with her all my life until she died up in Montreal. She was a Saint. We all knew her--Mom, my wives and Aunt Dora. Irene, Dora and I went to celebrate her 75th anniversary as a nun. What a woman!!
At this point in life, all our close relatives lived less than 1 mile apart in Ware. We lived at 52 Aspen. My god-parents lived two houses away next to my Gramp's house. My Aunt Emma Leblanc ran a little family store in her front room. Gramp's house was next to them. Aunt Rosanna was acting mother of Rodier family cause Grandma Rodier died at young age. Rosanna married late in life to Frank Hudon, an old widower. They lived right across street from Gramps. Aunt Mary married to Henri Desfarges and lived in a 2-tenement house next to the Hudsons. Uncle Alfred Rodier lived on Dale St., one street from our house. Alfred and Liza Rodier had one daughter. Uncle Victor and Maryanne Rodier lived on North Street, across Campbell's Field from Gramp's house. Grandma Renaud lived with two daughters Jennie and Rose on Vigeant Street, which was 2 streets from Gramps at a diagonal. My Dad and I visited Grandma Renaud's every Sunday as a rule. Aunt Jenny had a player piano she played for us. I pumped it to play and we all tried to sing to words on the roll of music. My Aunt Emma lived in a basement apartment in lower Vigeant St. George and Emma Dansereau and children Jeannette, George, Valmore, Normand, Lawrence, Doris, Paul, Juanita, Estelle all lived in this basement. Wow!!
Uncle Eli and Elizabeth Rodier lived in Hennessy block apartment at corner of W. Main and Parker Street. They had no children. Uncle Orez and Priscilla Rodier lived on Eagle Street near family cemetery. Priscilla was second wife. They had Cousin Ernest (first wife) and Priscilla bore a girl, Florence. In later years when I was a teenager, they moved to Plainville, CT. I stayed with them to be with Cousin Ernest some summer vacations.
Our family was bigger than that of all the Rodiers put together, but I believe we lived a better and fuller life even though we were poor. We never were beaten. We were punished by losing privileges. Dad was the boss and just a look from him could make you afraid to cross him. We had a small row-boat on Snow's Pond and I learned to fish from Dad. We caught yellow perch and horned pout mostly, also black bass and pickerel. I took the boat by myself at 8 or 9 years old, before I learned to swim. I could skate (ice) when I was 8 and had a BB gun at that age. I guess Dad was a good teacher because I never hurt myself or anyone else by having these freedoms.
At Aspen Street, most of our deliveries were by horse and wagon. Milk was delivered by a farmer, Mr. Demers, in a low-bed wagon. It had a roof to keep weatherproof. Farmers came into town with wagons to sell anything they produced to sell and they sold dry goods for daily use. A Mr. Forsley, a good Jewish man came to Ware at regular calls in a Ford. He'd take orders and deliver clothes that were previously ordered. He came all the way from Worcester.
At Aspen Street from 1920 to the end of 1926, I could recognize several cars as they came down the street. I knew them by sound of their motors and the blast of the horn. Uncle Victor had an old Star. Orez had a National touring car. Fred ran Chevies. Uncle Ely and Henry Desforge also had Chevies.
We had a lot of fun because of the Aspen Rod and Gun Club at next house to us. The men, father Alex included were card sharks, horse shoe players and also "Quoits" a game like horse shoes but used a heavy round disk like a 6" washer and quite thick and heavy.
I could describe many things that we enjoyed because of the closeness of our neighborhood. Donut fry evenings at Gramp Rodier and winter nights pouring homemade taffy on clean snow and eating it by the gobs.
Mom could take 4 or 5 cottontail rabbits and prepare and cook them with vegetables in extra large bake pan with a topping of drop dumplings. We'd clean it all up because that's all you got.
It was hard times to live in but it taught us to appreciate all the things we had later in life.
We had a great man for a doctor, Doc Gafney, he was there to bring us all into the world. When he made any visits near us, he always dropped in to visit Mom (no fee) and give her some salve for her ulcerated legs. It was antiphlogistic. He was very big bodied and once sat in our armchair and broke the arm rests.
We moved to Canal Street in late 1926 around Christmas time. Mom was pregnant with Terry. Yvonne and Terry were born in early Mary Lane Hospital. The building later was used for nurses to live in when they were off duty from the new hospital.
Canal Street was a big change for all of us. We had our first electricity. We lived in the second tenement at #3 Canal. A Mr. Carpenter lived in # 1 with a son and daughter. He was a widower and later he married Aunt Jenny Renaud and moved with her to a house in back of the new Fire Station. His daughter Jeannette later married my cousin Lawrence "Molly" Dansereau.
We all lived much better because of the electricity and more room for us. It was great for my father because he lived across from the mill, Otis Co., a cotton mill.
My oldest sister, Alfreda, who worked in Monson State School, married some time later and her son, my nephew Alfred Veroneau was born in Rutland, Vt., in late 1927. About a year later the father brought the baby to Ware and Mom Renaud took over the care of the baby. Two aunts tried to care for him but they failed and he was a mess. It took less than a year for my Mom to make him a very healthy baby. Mom was a great person and patient mother to all of us. Dad was more impatient, but he never abused anyone. He held a tough foreman's job in Otis Co., but he didn't play favorites or pick on anybody unfairly. Monday morning was his toughest day of the week because quite a few of his help drank all weekend. Times were dry but the town had all the moonshine that anyone wanted. I saw this one Sunday when Dad and I visited the Dansereaus on way to Granma Renaud. Uncle George was asleep in bed with a 1/2 gallon jug of rotgut by the bed on the floor. I never forgot the sight, and was glad I never saw my father drunk. Late in his 40's he began making home brew and I helped to cap the bottles.
I guess that Mr. Carpenter, who lived at 1 Canal, met my Aunt Jennie through us, because they married and moved to Park Street back of Fire Station. Then Granma Renaud lived with them and died soon after at 94, with most of her family around her bed. I entered the house on an errand for Mom and heard crying and praying so I ran home and told my Mom that she died.
A Mr. Barbean & family moved into #1 Canal. They had a boy named Sylvio. He was older than me but I never got too friendly because we went to Newberry's 5 & 10 store and he told me to pocket all the small things I wanted. I didn't pocket any but he had quite a few stolen items. I never went to stores with him again.
In 1929 the mill sold off all its real estate and Dad had my Uncle Al Leblanc, my godfather, bid on our house. At about $950.00 only he and another bidder were interested so Uncle went to see who he was. It was his uncle from Gilbertville, so he explained that he wanted the house for his brother-in-law and he quite bidding. We (Dad) got it for $975.00. After that the folks at #1 moved and we took over the first tenement.
We really enjoyed these first few years at Canal Street. We lived without electricity for 9 years of my life, so even if we didn't waste it we enjoyed having decent light to work by and to enjoy. We were so poor that we were taught not to waste power because it was an additional cost every month.
These were busier years for me because I was still the "go fer" guy. Dad and I picked all the apples at a Mr. Clark's on Church Street. He had only 2 children so he let Dad keep most of the apples for our larger family.
I took the drops down to Fred Renaud (no relation) on lower Pleasant. He had a small cider mill and pressed our apples. I remember taking two 25 gal. 1/2 kegs in my wagon one at a time. Dad made it into hard cider and doled it out to friends and relatives. The kids and Mom & Dad drank sweet cider until it turned vinegary.
We also picked berries. Dad was a very good picker but I never was as fast as him because I liked to observe nature around me and also ate quite a bit of the good fresh picked berries.
We also picked nuts and cherries at farms around Ware. Dad knew all the out-laying farms and folks would let us take any that they wouldn't keep for themselves.
I wanted a paper route but none were available because times were so bad. Finally I was offered a route with 40 odd papers but it cost $1.00 a paper to buy the route and we couldn't afford it. Times were still tough.
I joined the Boy Scouts at twelve and soon learned to swim. I loved the Scout movement and stayed in it through my teens. Later I became an Assistant Scoutmaster with a troop and later still a Scoutmaster. We had a log cabin at Hardwick Pond and camped there a lot. We had a few canoes and two rowboats. The cabin had a huge fireplace with poor draft. We made fires in it and it sometimes smoked us out. At Christmas vacation one year, we chopped a hole in thin ice and jumped in, all of us. We didn't repeat that too often.
I believe that about this time, I was a dreamer. I'd get catalogues of sporting goods and make up lists of equipment that I would need to go on long trip into the wilds, such as Alaska and northern Canada. I'd make lists of all the things I'd need including rifle, ammo, hunting knife and small axe and hatchet.
I think it over now, and I wonder if I was planning all this to get away from family I loved, but no brother to buddy up with and compete with me.
My dad was very good about taking me in tow and teaching me to hunt and fish. He taught me to find my way in the woods by day and by night. I was too short and light to do much good, but I even went out for football in my 2nd year of high school. I took a beating and stayed with that only one season.
I made the biggest goof of my whole life at this time and I am sad to admit it. I quit in my junior year in high school.
I asked my dad to sign my papers to enter the army at 18 years old. Dad refused and got me a job in the Otis Company cotton mill in his department. I was the spare hand and "gofer" boy. Dad also promised if I'd last a year at this and it didn't kill me that he would sign my "God Dam" papers in a year.
Reason that he was much against the Service was because he was close to our police chief in Buckley. Chief was a good cop and never put his young lads in so called "Reform School." He'd take them to Springfield in his car and make them enlist in the Service. Great idea and it worked great, but it gave my dad the idea that all service men were bums.
I worked for dad a full year in 1934 and 1935 from June until July 1935. The mill was a tough place for an 18-year old. It was dirty, dusty and very noisy. The weave room was above us on 2nd floor and the looms made the worst noise I ever heard when in the room itself. We lived across the street from it, but it was muted a bit by distance.
To avoid swallowing the dust the men chewed tobacco and the women used snuff under their tongue or in their cheek. I did as all the women did and chewed gum or sucked on hard candy. I had to work hard enough that some of the men pitied me and probably thought dad was mean to me.
I knew that dad was right. He never liked being in millwork and he felt bad that I did this, but he never took it out on me. We still fished and hunted together at every chance we had.
About this time, dad asked me if I smoked, and I told him I tried it with the gang on the street. He knew that the kids my age picked up buts in the street, so I told him I picked them for my buddies, but never put them in my mouth. Dad was addicted to tobacco. He chewed in the mill. Smoking was banned anywhere on Otis property, even in the yards inside the fences. Dad chewed plug tobacco, loved his pipe at home and smoked 2 cigars on Sunday. He told me if he could stop the habit, he'd give anybody $500 for getting him to stop. That is why I'm glad I never did smoke any my kids never did either.
In July of 1935, I asked dad to sign my papers. He did so without any outward sign of his feelings, but I knew he was not in favor of it. I enlisted on July 14, 1935, and was sent to Fort Devens, Mass. I did six weeks of basic training and was assigned to the Infantry in the 66th Light Tank Company. We went on the range the first week of September and I fired the 30 caliber and the 37mm cannon in a tank from World War I. My hunting and shooting experience enabled me to get an Expert medal.
All this qualified me to a stripe as Private 1st Class and $5 a month extra for a full year as a full gunner. I went from $21 a month up to $35 a month. Quite a raise, because corporals only earned $42 as 2 stripers. My dad was very proud of me for this. He never showed this to me, but I heard it from everyone in Ware that knew us.
I bought my first car, a 1929 Ford Coupe for $75. I had lots of friends to go out with me because of this car. We all pitched in for gas and ran around as teens do, but on a much more economical scale.
Fall of 1936, I was driving to Devens from Framingham with a buddy that lived there and I fell asleep at the wheel and ran into a telephone pole. I had a broken collarbone and my buddy wasn't hurt at all. I was in Devens hospital for awhile and Allen's mother (foster) came into ream me out. The head nurse had to walk her out to leave me alone. Sad part is I went on that trip just to accommodate him. He was no more a buddy.
I'm relating all this to get to my going to Hawaii. While recuperating with my right arm in a sling my outfit was in Vermont for mountain training. One day a Corporal Hudon told me to mow a steep grass bank in front of the barracks. I was in quarters sick which meant only light work. I told him I couldn't pull a heavy cast iron reel mower up and down that slope.
When the outfit returned, I was ordered to report to the Company commander, a captain. He got my story but took Hudon's side of "my refusing an order." He made me a private again which is what Hudon was going for. I asked for a transfer to any Foreign Service place. The captain told me to leave the room or he'd put me in the guardhouse, the brig.
I waited until the first sergeant said it was safe to ask for my transfer and got me permission to speak to the captain. He tried to talk me into staying with my outfit, but I told him I did not want to be anywhere near a sneak like Hudon. He gave me my transfer and on 12/16/36, I sailed from the Brooklyn Army Base dock on my way to Hawaii.
The ship I sailed on was a 550 foot long ship from World Ward I days, the Chateau Thierry. I was seasick from Cape Hatteras to the vicinity if Florida. We sailed through the Panama Canal and up to Frisco. We laid over at Fort McDowell in the Bay. We had some leave in Frisco and I liked it very much. We sailed on to Honolulu and arrived there on January 1, 1937. I was assigned to the 13th Field Artillery as a private. I was given K.P. for a week, the first week I was there. That was standard procedure in the Service.
I started my week on Monday. I peeled potatoes all morning. I was given part of the afternoon off, but I stayed to clean up some of the pots that were all carbon from the heat. A soldier in a tee-shirt came in and asked me why I was doing this for it's a form of punishment.
I thought he was being wise so I asked who he was. He said he'd been made the new Mess Sergeant, because he had been in restaurant (his Aunt's) trade for years.
He explained to me that a cook had a case of gonorrhea and was to be replaced. He asked me if I'd cook for him. I said, "No cook and baker's school for me." He said did you ever cook at home. I admitted that I did quite a bit of it. He said if I took the job, he'd help me if I ever needed help or advice. He promised that I'd be rated as soon as anyone was leaving.
I took the job and worked as 2nd cook for a couple of months. I got one rating raise in one month and at three months I was a first cook at 1st Class and 4th Specialist. I was paid $45 a month and I worked one day on and two days off. The mess sergeant ran the Mess and had only Saturday afternoons and Sunday off.
I liked the life even though there wasn't much privacy for most of the men. I was in Battery B of 13th Field Artillery. My outfit slept on the second floor and consisted of about 110 men. Headquarters Battery with about 110 men occupied the third floor. The bunks were separated by squads with tall wall lockers between squads. Corporals were in end positions with their squads. Sergeants had separate rooms along rear sides of rooms.
Cooks slept in back room off of dining room on ground floor, because we had to go to work at odd times and also were allowed to rest at any time when off duty.
I played a lot of tennis and ran the mile, but I did it mostly for the exercise because I'm not built to run. I tried to go out for boxing, but the instructor watched me try out and recommended that I try something else because I cut too easily. Hawaii service was great for sports and college on the U.S. West Coast use to pick the best prospects for their schools.
I experienced a major earthquake during my first year and while there we had Amelia Earhart land at Hickam Field, Honolulu on her ill-fated flight with Noonan. I believe it possible that Japanese secret activity in the Pacific area could be the cause of her disappearance.
My dad died in 1937 and I learned of it after his burial. No round-trip home in peacetime. I always felt guilty about his death. I felt that I let him down. He also was probably affected by the fact that his mill was going down south. He disliked being a "mill rat" and was glad that I got away from it in time. I put in for a Dependency discharge, but it didn't take effect until my 2 years were almost over with.
I arrived home, discharged in July 1938. I firmly intended to stay and be of help to mom, and got a job in shoe shop at $18 a week as a sewing machine repair helper. Anna Wawrzonek also worked in same room and you all know what happened from that point on. We hit it off from the beginning and had a wonderful life together. We had a very bad fall hurricane and flood followed it. Canal Street was flooded, but only the cellar was flooded. We had to evacuate and we stayed with relatives until it was over. Mom lived on Water Street and that was all under water.
We kept company and were married on the coldest day of winter January 20, 1940. Uncle Fred and Aunt Dora rode us to Worcester in a little Crosley car. What a ride. Boarded a bus to Boston and stayed at the best hotel at that time. Hotel was the noisiest place we could have picked. The next, Sunday, we got up to attend church and the hallway was littered with liquor and mix bottles. What a mess!!! There was an American Legion State Convention group staying at the hotel.
Attended church and later attended a Duke Ellington big and show and also an Ice Capades show. I worked in Ware Woolen then and my boss said to get back to work on Tuesday, but I stayed out until Wednesday.
We lived with mom's folks at Pulaski Street and it wasn't much fun at all. I was recalled by the Reserves in February 1941. I was back in Devens. Mom had a miscarriage and I believe that the miscarriage was caused by my being called in. I knew nothing of the following but I think it went this way as I remember it. A selectman in Ware named Claude Lavallee liked my mother and she told him my fix. He was a delivery man for our grocery. He worked with someone of some power and I was given a temporary release from service to go back and work while my poor Anna was recovering from sickness and shock.
I guess she felt a lot better with me at home, so I had a hard time convincing the wife that it was wrong to conceive another child. The services advised us to tend to all affairs as if we wouldn't return to our home.
Wife said she wanted a baby anyway and at any cost, because she'd have the baby to remember me. So you know the rest. Dear wife got pregnant and I was recalled and Ray Renaud, Jr. was born at about 5 p.m. on April 27, 1943.
I shipped out of Staten Island, New York, at the same time 5 p.m. on a slow boat to Oran Africa. It was a 14-day trip spent dodging U-boats all over the Atlantic shipping lanes (convoy). What fun! ! !
We landed in Oran, Algeria, about May 13, 1943, about the time that the desert war in North Africa was ending. We were on the fringe of the desert and conditions were rough. Sandstorms were the norm and got into everything including our stomachs, so we had a constant dose of diarrhea.
When the planning for the Sicilian invasion was put into General Patton's hands he reviewed all his troops and disliked Tank Destroyers (us) so he left our Battalion in Africa and did the Sicily job without us. We didn't mind that a bit.
We trained all summer with the forces that came in to get us ready for the next job after Sicily.
We made the Italian invasion at Salerno on September 9, 1943. This was D-Day of Italy. It was a tough landing but when you're in it, it all seems like a dream, a make believe, but not to the many young men we lost and that were wounded. One never forgets that and never cares to go into details of it. It's best forgotten.
We finally made our way inland and fought our way all the way to the mountains of Venafro, Italy, just before the Casino Monastery.
We were pulled back from there and returned to Salerno (our invasion port) to do more training to break in new replacement men.
We did our next invasion at Anzio, Italy, on D-Day plus four or five days. That was where Uncle Joe Brunell was captured with the 3rd Ranger Battalion. They were brave but too Gung-ho and all 800 plus were boxed in and became prisoners of war.
I don't care to dwell on memories of the war, but I'll explain how I got to a Staff Sergeant rating. I shipped over as a Corporal Tech, a 2 stripe rating. While still in Africa, the Battalion Ammo Sergeant, a 3 striper died of a urinary infection. They made me take this rating because of my ability to find hard to find places to establish camp areas by use of co-ordinates and landmarks. They also gave me the fuel supply section because that Sergeant couldn't find his way anywhere under war conditions. I had a Corporal to carry out any plans when I was not around. That is 2 Corporals, one for each section. I also had a 3/4 ton weapon carrier for my use and carried small arm ammo and grenades of assorted kinds. At full complement, I had 26 men most of the time.
I received my fourth stripe, Staff Sergeant at Anzio. The top NCO was a Technical Sergeant, a five striper. We were all in Headquarters Company as supply personnel. The Technical Sergeant and his driver were both killed in a big supply building at the docks by a shell from a Railroad gun in Rome about 25 miles away.
I was to take his place but it was explained to me that it was not fair for me to be promoted that fast they made me a Staff Sergeant in ReCon Company and the Staff Sergeant from Recon. Went up to Technical Sergeant in Headquarters Company. I knew the fellow involved and liked him, so I fell in with this and he and I remained good friends. I remained a Staff Sergeant until discharge.
We had a rough stay in Anzio. The enemy had the advantage being up high in the mountains and could look down our throats and pick off any move made by us. We slept in an underground we made for ourselves. We were bombed nightly. Some fun!!! We lived this way and the front would give a little and take a little.
We finally broke out about May 7th or 8th and pushed the Jerries back beyond Rome. We got a few days leave around Rome and when the front was stable they shipped our outfit, the 645 Tank Destroyer Battalion and with our 45th Infantry Division we shipped back to Salerno to break in new troops again.
We invaded Southern France just before the D-Day invasion in Normandy. We were in a feint invasion to keep the Germans guessing. We galloped through the rest of the war with the Germans on a fast retreat. We would even bypass outfits and the mop-up troops would take the prisoners. We went from Grenoble near Marseille and were in the Rhone Valley all the way to Nancy, France. We were in Alsace Lorraine in the Saar Region for part of the winter until weather broke and we crossed the Rhine River at the German city of Wurms. We took city of Hamburg and then turned south and went all the way down taking Camp Dachau on the way and we went through Munich and the war ended for us there! ! !
We were given short leave to visit the site of the winter Olympics and also the Oberammergau Passion Play site. It was beautiful there. A conditional peace was signed on May 7th and the official end of war was May 8th.
We were trucked back the way we fought but rode in trucks and stayed at camps. I have pictures of them in my album. We shipped out of Marseilles and rumors were afloat that we would get 10 or so days at home; and ship off to the Pacific because of our valuable experience.
I think if they would have done that, I might have been the first to desert to Canada, after what we went through.
We were saved from that by the Atom Bomb. We landed in Virginia and I went to Devens by rail.
At my final physical the doctor asked if I had any ailments from my service. I ended up with a touchy right knee and I told him so. He wanted to put me in for a small claim to get the Veterans Administration process started. I asked how long for this. He guessed at 6 months or so and I took my touchy knee and went home to my wife and son, whom I had never seen. Good move and never regretted it.
Goodbye U.S. Army and I was home in a week!!! Amen