They had very different experiences.
Dad had already been drafted, about 6 months before. He always said that he thanked God for that happenstance, as it gave him time to be trained for his eventual job in the Artillery.
At that time, America was at peace. Europe was already engulfed in military action, and stories (and refugees) were streaming out, telling of atrocities and horrors. But, it didn't affect that many Americans, and most of the country was determinedly pacifistic.
After the country's experience in WWI, most Americans were resolute in their belief that the USA ought to stay out of troubles in other countries - both Republicans and Democrats were generally opposed to military action.
So, even though my Dad was serving in the Army, he - like most of his unit - fully expected to serve their term without seeing action. For my Dad, and a lot of others, it was easy money. And, as their housing, food, and medical needs were taken care of, the money was theirs to spend freely. Which, most of them did.
My Dad, an experienced poker player, made a fairly good addition to his income off the nearby games. He sent some of it home for his mother (who still had 2 kids at home), and used the rest for fun.
When Pearl Harbor was attacked, he, like most of the rest, were glued to the radio. They knew that this would likely be a game-changer. What most of them didn't expect is that they would be also declaring war on Germany and Italy. Their beef was with Japan. This experience is similar to what we felt after 9/11 - why the hell did we go to Iraq, rather than to Afghanistan (and Pakistan, that never got the payback they deserved for facilitating bin Laden's plans)?
Dad had time to digest the news and prepare for war. It was several years before he landed in Europe, in 1943. He made it in time for a fair amount of hostile action, including the Battle of the Bulge. He was cold, wet, dirty and miserable. As part of the Artillery units, he was generally a little further back from the Front. It was dangerous, but not as bad at those who flew the planes into the enemy's cities, or who were face-to-face with their opponents.
No, his war was mostly flash and boom. A LOT of boom. He lost a significant part of his hearing in that war. After, he was less social in groups - he couldn't hear well enough in noisy environments to participate. Only in small groups, or away from the noise, could he be a part of conversations.
I'd always thought of him as shy. It probably was less shyness, than inability to hear clearly. From stories he later told of his wild, mispent youth (gambling, drinking, and driving fast cars for his bootlegging buddies), he came home from the war a different man.
Mom was only 13 on December 7, 1941. She was in 7th grade at St. Luke's School, in Lakewood, OH. Her experience was very different.
Her only brother was 4-F for vision. He worked as a welder at a J & L Steel, where his Dad used some influence to get him a job. As he was otherwise fit for duty, he was isolated from the hazards, and yet able to fully participate in life. He really did have horrible vision, so there is no doubt the military made the right decision, but he always felt he had something to prove to the world about his manhood.
Without having personal worries about loved ones in danger, my mother threw herself into fully enjoying the war years. That sounds callous, but she was a kid - and a fun-loving, outgoing one, to boot. She was a temperament similar to Scarlett O'Hara, who fretted that "silly war talk" would spoil her fun. She had a lot more compassion and character than Scarlett, but definitely could relate to her desire to ignore the more unpleasant parts of war.
She went to an all-girls school - St. Theresa's Academy - now defunct. Her brother and sisters had attended Holy Name, a coed school, but transportation difficulties made that a less attractive option. Besides, her best friend was already enrolled, so she joined the crowd.
Mom was NOT the academic type. She made OK grades, but found the classes boring. She was always up for a prank or mischief, even in school. Because she really was a nice girl, if more than a bit frivolous, she kept out of serious trouble.
St. Theresa prided themselves on producing Nice Catholic Wives and Mothers. My mother was a stellar example of their work. She married at 19, less than a year after her graduation, and stayed married for 46 years. My father was in love with her to the end.
Mom participated in metal scrap drives, meatless Tuesdays, and other Support the Troops activities. One of the funniest things she did was to persuade her parents to host a party. With all her classmates in an all-girls school, they were woefully short of men.
That's when my mother had the bright idea of calling up the local Coast Guard station, and inviting any of the guys to a party.
Fortunately, my grandparents took their job as chaperones seriously, and - once the guys saw how young the girls were, and that they were being watched over at a no alcohol party - the older and wilder ones left, and the younger guys who stayed had a wonderful time.
My mother's reputation as a party-planner was made for all time.
Mom did pick up a boyfriend in high school. By the time she was 16, they were engaged. They broke up shortly after the war was over, when her Navy fiancee returned. A few months later, after graduation, she met my Dad, and only a few months later, they eloped.
For Mom, the war years were exciting. She would sing the songs of her teen years around the house. She had nothing but good memories of that time. She'd been safe, warm, and reasonably well-fed throughout.
My Dad had a different experience. He talked little of most of the war, focusing on a few of the funny stories of that time. There weren't many. Like many who slogged along, he spent most of the war uncomfortable, when he wasn't in danger. He'd been dirty for long periods of time, and often cold and wet.
The local infrastructure, by the time he got to see it, was trashed. The food he ate was mostly 'chow'. There were few nights in beds, little rest, and not much to see in the local environment that would have been worth going back to visit later.
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