World War II Memoirs Of A German P.O.W.
An Old Familiar Friend Lost To Tragedy
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| Eugene J Hamlett World War II Memoirs Of A German P.O.W. |
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| Randolph "Bulldog" Jennings An Old Familiar Friend Lost To Tragedy |
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| The face you see in the above picture is of Randolph "Bulldog" Jennings. This is his page. He was a private in the 3rd Infantry Division, 7th Regiment, and is buried at the Arlington National Cemetary. Randolph was a friend of mine who lived not too far from me in Hurt, VA. Randolph, my brother, G.D. Hamlett, and myself went to enlist on April 3, 1943, only to find out that we were on the list to be drafted the following week. He was eighteen when he enlisted and I was nineteen. Randolph died a few months before turning twenty. I found out after I had returned from being a P.O.W. that Randolph had died around the same time I was captured. I think of him all the time, and wonder what his life would have been like had he made it through the war like me. I carried this picture with me throughout my whole experience as a P.O.W. Now when I need to see Randolph, I simply close my eyes. Of all the people that I had encountered in World War II, it is Randolph who has left me with the most profound memories of what War is like. It is his face I see whenever I think of all the men who never came home to their loved ones. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| After the three of us had enlisted, we were transported to Alabama to undergo thirteen weeks of Basic Training. And Basic Training was exactly what we got. It was during Basic Training that Randolph became known as "Bulldog." I'm not sure exactly how he got the nickname, but Randolph was the furthest thing from a bulldog in the whole army. Before being drafted, I had never gone anywhere outside of Virginia. I was just a poor country fellow with little education. Randolph was pretty much the same. We were as close as brothers. After we had completed Basic Training, we were given 10 days leave to visit our families. After our furlough, we received word that we were to be in Newport News because we were heading overseas. My brother G.D. was not going to be in our company. While that monstrous ship, the SS. Louis Pasteur, was leaving the harbor, my friend Randolph looked over at me and with tears in his eyes said, "I am never coming back." Little did I realize just how true his statement was. We were shipped out to Casablanca, Africa on September 20, 1943. The picture to the right is of Randolph and a girlfriend before we shipped out. After we arrived in Casablanca, we then boarded a train to Sicily, Italy, and then to Naples. Through all of this, Randolph and I were able to remain together. We often looked to each other for strength. As I stated before, we were just poor old country boys, and we were seeing things that we'd never even imagined. Europe sure was a long way from Virginia. We got seperated somewhere along the way. Each of us lost our lifetime friends when that happened. I had never felt so alone and lost. Not many days pass where I don't think about my buddy, Randolph. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| The pictures above were taken on May 10, 1973. I located Randolph's grave in Arlington National Cemetary, in Arlington, VA with the help of the Information Center. If I didn't have directions from the Information Center Attendant, I don't believe I would have ever found his final resting place. It is amazing to me just exactly how many tombstones there are. I can't help but wonder about some of the other young mens' stories, their families, and how they are dealing with their grief. All that Randolph's tombstone stated was Randolph T. Jennings, Virginia, PVT 30 INF, 3 INF DIV, World War II, October 19, 1924, March 8, 1944. Nowhere on his tombstone did it mention just how profound an impact that he had on all who loved him. Nowhere on his stone did it say how he bravely had served his country, his America. I only wish that his grave marker could be more than just a symbol of life lost, and military time served. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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