Remembering brings the emotions back as well. Our mom (Elsie Bredimus) was a Blackout Warden when we lived in Des Moines. She had to check that people’s windows were dark at night. She checked for planes during the day. I can remember a chart with plane silhouettes in our home. We all sang the military branch songs. Our grandfather (Poppy) had a deep voice and led the singing.

Nancy remembers that there were large parades in downtown Des Moines. Military vehicles and veterans were the theme. People waved flags all along the route.

Our Bredimus grandmother (Mommy) had a Victory Garden. Both of our grandmothers gathered bouquets for the cemetery. All recipes were altered due to rationing. Our mom (Elsie Bredimus) made some concoctions with Spam. We had ration books. We had that bagged white grease to mix the orange tablet in to make Margarine. We called it oleo.

Nancy and I made floating Hollyhock dolls. We sold them on the sidewalk in front of our house. There were military men and their girlfriends strolling our usually quiet suburb. Nancy’s Shirley Temple doll had WAC and WAVE uniforms. We were proud.

Our father (Robert Bredimus) worked in an Ordinance Plant. I didn’t know that meant bullets until years later. He told us the little brass cups were fairy cups. It seemed reasonable when I was three.

We moved to Oakland at the end of the war. Patriotism was the norm.

We had newspaper drives and scrap metal drives. We marched in parades. The President seemed a hero. Life was good.

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