Tuesday, December 22, 2015

The Spirits of Camp Iron Mountain


In Mama's bedroom closet
To this day on her top shelf
There's a flag folded three corners
Laying all by itself
    ---The Statler Brothers.     Silver Medals and Sweet Memories

By 1942 the desert war against Germany was going badly. To solve this problem, the army designated a number of training grounds in the Arizona and California deserts.

General George Patton was commander of these training grounds.

We decided we wanted to visit one of these--the Iron Mountain Desert Training Center.  

We didn't know if we could manage the old dirt road to it, but we did.  Barely.  We got bogged down in the sand at one point, but the old girl (our F350) bumped and ground its way through it.  Whether we get back out again tomorrow is another story.  (Note to family:  if we don't return in March, please send help).

The camp is about three miles by one mile in size.  It is surrounded by fence, thankfully.  There are turnstiles for entry.  These serve to prevent entry by OHVs.  



But it also appeared that few people come there.  We saw only one pair of footprints in the entire compound.

There are no structures per se because none were built.  The men lived in tents.

But these tents were not erected in a haphazard fashion.  Instead, the men created acres of roads, sidewalks, gardens, and tent "areas."  They created these paths and roads with rock borders.  These remain---their commanders perhaps recognizing the need for order even in a hostile desert environment.  Or maybe it made the boys and men feel more like it was a home.  





Also remaining are two chapels.



Vicky and I walked the length and the breadth of this place.  It was so quiet.  It was like we were on hallowed ground.  

We were both frequently lost in our thoughts.  Over a million young men and boys came through these training centers during WWII.  All were full of hopes for their futures.  

And yet it is likely that, for some of them, the last letters their mothers ever got from them were sent from this camp.  

For those mothers, this was their boys' last home, and the war didn't end for them with the victory over Japan or over Germany.  

In fact it never ended for them.

I don't think the rest of us can ever understand the courage of mothers, like Vicky who also did this, who see their sons go off to war.  

This was a special day for us.













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