This is a war story? Where's the war?
No bullets, no bombs. Just a refreshing drink of water
I don’t know why I love this story, heck, the central character is a drink of water, no bullets, no bombs, no barroom brawls, but there’s something about it that speaks to the appreciation of things we take for granted, maybe that’s it. It was told by Reuben “Ruby” Goldstein when I interviewed Ruby and Tony D’Arpino together at Tony’s home in Milton, Massachusetts in 1992. Ruby was in Company A and Tony in Company C of the 712th Tank Battalion and they didn’t know each other during the war. But Ruby lived in Hull, Massachusetts and had a dry cleaning store, and Tony came in to get some clothes dry-cleaned and they got to talking, and they were fast friends ever since. After they both were widowed they would travel to the reunions together, accompanied by Tony’s daughter Ann. They both were such great storytellers that sometimes it was hard to get a word in edgewise.
Ruby Goldstein: Do you remember when we were on maneuvers in Tennessee? My tank was guarding a road — all simulation — and the water in our five-gallon can was awful. You couldn't drink it. There was a farmhouse up in Murfreesboro. I went to the farmhouse, knocked on the door, a woman answered, she was alone in the house, and I asked her if she had any fresh water.
I went back to my tank, dumped the five gallons of water out — I wasn't gonna do it in front of her house — came back, she took me in what looked like the side of a hill, a mountain, it was like a cave inside; we walked in, on rocks, and water came from the mountain. It was crystal-clear water. Took a drink with my canteen cup. Never in my life did I taste water that delicious.
So I filled it up, and brought it back to my crew. Then she says, “Are you fellows hungry?”
“Well, kind of.”
You know what she did? She went out, and she had some fresh-killed chickens. She took the chickens, she had them all cleaned up and ready, and we had southern fried chicken, and she went ahead and made biscuits for us. We were there for quite a while.
I had given her my address, and she mailed this to my mother, January 1, 1945. I was long gone, but she must have thought about it and wrote a letter to my mother. And this is the letter. It shows you, she must have had it for so long. This is marked Dec. 31, ’44, and this is Feb. 24, ’42. And my mother had this on her when she passed away; I found the envelope, sent to my house when we lived in Dorchester, 32 Holland Street. That’s her name, Mrs. Ed Phillips, Murfreesboro, Tenn.
“My dear Mrs. Goldstein, I am sure you will be surprised to hear from me. I am just a lady that lives on a farm where your son made camp over a weekend, and he asked me to write you, but I had so many to ask me the same. My husband carries U.S. mail, but we still live on our farm.
“I have a son in service now. He is 19 years old. We liked your son very much. We cooked supper for four boys. I don’t remember what we had for them now but fried chicken.
“They were fine boys. Mr. Phillips makes friends with all boys, and they came here for water, and we fell in love with all four.
“One of the boys liked walking horses and we had two, so he came and put shoes on one of the horses. I believe his name was Church. I don't remember the other boy’s name.
“After dinner, Reuben said he wanted to help with the dishes so he would feel more like he was home. My mother lives with me. She is 77 and he called her Grandma. They all called her that.
“He talked of you so much, I knew he was a fine boy. We would like so much to know where he is and anything you can tell us of Reuben and the other boys.
“We have only Charles, and you know what it is like to give up your all. He is in Fort McClellan, Ala. He left home Aug. 22 and it has not been like home since he left. I am trusting in God to take care of him, and if it be His will, bring him back a fine Christian boy.
“We gave food and cold milk to so many boys, and we were fond of these boys. Seems like they were tops to us.
“Soldiers camped on our farm and near us so often. One time the boys came here and asked if I knew of someone they could get to wash for them. Mr. Phillips said I couldn't lift water, and he couldn't be here, but if they would heat the water and put it in the washer, maybe I could help them. So early the next morning, four came and put the water in the washer, and it was filled twice that morning. I don't know how many I washed for, but if Charles needs anything I feel like someone will help him. For what we do for others, it will be measured back to us.
“Let me hear from you. Respectfully yours, Mrs. Ed Phillips, Murfreesboro, Tenn.
“P.S. Pray for Charles, too.”
“Feb. 24, 1945,
“Dear Mrs. Goldstein, I did not answer your letter because Charles came home for six days Jan. 19, and I do not know what to tell you about him. He was sent to Fort George G. Mead, Md. He stayed there over three weeks and he is now in the state of New York.
“He and four others were called out and sent to this place, and I do not know what he will be now. His buddies sailed a few days after they arrived in Maryland. There were 20 called out there, and Charles was in the ... So the second group of boys, the five were called out. I can say now the second group are gone, for it’s been two weeks.
“I feel what happens to him will be for the best, for I'm trusting God to take care of him. Now what is the latest news on Reuben and your other boys. I do hope Reuben gets over his wounds and will soon be back in the States. I do not see how mothers who do not depend on God can see their boys leave. I know three boys that have been in service for a year, and they left home believing that there is no Hell. May they have someone to explain the Bible to them and confess Christ as their savior. Charles is good to write us, and it helps so much. He had some real good pictures made while he was home. Would you like to have one?
“I feel that whatever happens to him, your letter gave me courage to fight on. There's a front here, and I try to do my part.
“My mother said tell you she wanted to hear from Reuben and she loved him and was praying for him. Do not wait as long to write as I have for Mr. Phillips. Mother and I did appreciate your letter and will be looking forward for an answer.
“With love and symphay(sic), Mr. and Mrs. Ed Phillips.”
That shows you how things happen, that there are beautiful, wonderful people with a lot of heart down there, because I remember going once, and I don't even remember where the heck it was, we were in a city, and they invited a group of us and we went to a country club, and these people were well off people. And we were treated, a couple of us were treated so royally it was unbelievable.
Even when I first went in, in Fort Riley, Kansas, there was a Jewish holiday, and we went on the bus, and went to Kansas City, it was Kansas City Kansas and Kansas City, Missouri, twin cities. So we went over the bridge from Kansas City, Kan., to Kansas City, Mo., and we all went to the YMHA, and people invited, we didn't know them, and two girls came, young girls, and picked us up in the car and took us to their home for the holidays. Two days, and they fed us and they treated us royally. Never knew us from a hole in the wall. And then they took us to the bus stop, and when the weekend was over, we went back to camp.
In those years, if you had a uniform and you didn’t have any money and you were going a great distance, and you were thumbing a ride, you were picked up, and the people didn’t have to be afraid of you. And they treated, if you didn't have, they would even buy you dinner; if you were going a long distance, and if you didn’t have any money they would give you money. You didn’t ask, you just didn’t say I didn’t have any money. They would be the one. The world has changed. Things are different. Today you’d be scared to pick up anybody.
Tony D'Arpino: I remember coming home on furlough and going to Boston. There used to be a lot of nightclubs there, and I remember one, the Blue Moon. You’d just be sitting in a booth. I’d buy the first drink. It didn’t cost me a penny the rest of the night. Any civilian that was around there, they kept bringing us goddamn booze all night. After a while, you didn't even want any more.
Ruby Goldstein: The feeling was there. Any branch of the service you were in.
Postscript: I found Charles Phillips’ obituary on the Internet:
Charles Ed Phillips
Murfreesboro - Charles Ed Phillips, age 95, of Murfreesboro, TN, went to be with the Lord on Tuesday, June 29, 2021. A native of Rutherford County, he was preceded in death by his parents, Ed and Azilee Short Phillips; his wife, Mary Ruth Phillips; and his sister, Elisabeth Phillips.
He is survived by his daughters, Connie Phillips and Kathy Neely both of Murfreesboro; along with an extended host of relatives and friends.
Mr. Phillips enjoyed fishing, mowing grass, and telling stories. He was witty and sharp and entertained many people with his vast knowledge of Powells Chapel and Walter Hill History. He proudly served in World War II with the United States Army in the European Theatre and spent the last four years of his life at the Tennessee State Veterans Home after suffering a debilitating stroke.
A special thanks to the staff at the facility for their love and care.
A graveside service will take place today, Friday at 2:00 p.m. in Evergreen Cemetery with military honors.
He was a good man.