This is the third of four posts from Nancy Hubener Warner b.1937
In August of 1944 my father was sent to Walter Reed Hospital where he was diagnosed with cancer. Six months later, in February of 1945, he was transferred to Cushing General Hospital in Framingham, Mass. It was a new military hospital built for the wounded soldiers of World War II. It was dedicated in 1944 and had a capacity of 1,800 beds.
It was then that we moved to Framingham. We were in the lst, 2nd and 3rd grades at Hastings School at Framingham Junction. Often when visiting at the hospital we saw trucks carrying men with POW written on their clothing. They looked like us but Mama explained that they were prisoners of war from Italy and Germany who had been captured and were now working jobs at the hospital. We daily saw the results of the war in the injured servicemen that were patients there. My father never left the hospital. He died in December of 1945 and was buried in Arlington National Cemetery.
I remember standing in line with my mother, by the Arcade downtown, whenever she needed anything that was rationed. Actually I don’t remember butter, but a plastic bag filled with something white…..(lard, oleo?) that had an orange ball inside. To get whatever we considered butter, we had to burst the ball and knead the whole thing until it looked and tasted like butter. Remember? Who knew the difference?