MEMORY LANE PASSPORTS BY R. AUBREY LA FOY A favorite pastime of mine when I was a kid was to visit my uncle and aunt home only ½ block from my house. My aunt was my Mother’s elder sister and my uncle was a printer. Uncle Ray always subscribed to the National Geographic Magazine and I spent hours poring through those magazines looking at weird people, their dress, customs, buildings, maps and styles. The magazine opened up a world far removed from our small tight nit community in Iowa. We could dream and wondered if we would ever get to travel and see some of those exotic places and people. Little did I know at that time (age10 or 11) that by the time I was 21 years old my journeys would take me clear around the world. In July 1943 I left Milford, Iowa and traveled west and west and west until I returned to Milford from the east in January 1946. When I was a kid the highest hill I had ever seen was Hi Point on the west side of Lake West Okoboji but before I returned home in 1946 I had seen and driven mountains in Burma and China flew over the Himalayans of Tibet. The largest boat that I had ridden on prior to 1944 was the Queen on Okoboji but before I returned home in January 1946 had voyaged on an ocean going vessel that held over 8,000 people and another that held 3,500 military personal. Wow! The largest body of water I had observed prior to 1943 was Big Spirit Lake and then I sailed across the Pacific Ocean, Indian Ocean, Bay of Bengal, Red Sea, Mediterranean Sea and the Atlantic Ocean. The Little Sioux River was huge when I was a kid but it didn’t compare with the Missouri River, Hooghly or Irrawadity in India, the Yangzee in China, Hudson River or the Mississippi River in the USA. I thought people from Minnesota talked different until I associated with fellows from Brooklyn and Texas but that was nothing compared with the languages in India and China. Years ago we would beg my Father to drive up past the Inn so we might see some of the employees but we found out in World War II the color of our skin was in the minority in India and China. I won’t even get into religions but when we found out that cows were sacred in India that was the ultimate. My Grandfather, two uncles and my father were butchers and that wouldn’t go very well in India. I also never had a good steak in India or China. We ate chicken and pork but no beef unless you call water buffalo beef, but chewing it was another venture. All of those adventures fulfilled the pages of the old National Geographic. In 1998 Connie and I celebrated our 50th wedding anniversary. We were married in 1948 while still in college at Iowa State Teachers College at Cedar Falls. To help us celebrate that occasion our three sons, Randy, Ray and Carl presented us with a trip to Mexico. The original plan was to go to Cancun, Mexico but because they had just had a hurricane there switched our destination to Mazatlan, Mexico. Prior to leaving on that trip we applied for a passport. Although I had traveled clear around the Earth, entered and exited six countries not counting the USA it was my first passport. Since that time I have had to secure another as the first one expired because of time. I will state also, that getting the second passport was a bit more complicated that getting the second especially since 9/11. My first encounter leaving the USA occurred in February 1944. The military outfit I was assigned were slated to go overseas. I was with the XX Bomber Command-B-29s Air Corps in Great Bend, Kansas. We trained there and in February told to gather our gear, assemble in front of the barracks and marched five blocks to a waiting railroad train. Each man was assigned a certain coach and in we went not knowing our destination. There were four of us in seats facing each other along with our gear. Our barracks bags were stored elsewhere. The only way we could tell where we were was to see the station names but finally we stopped in a military camp near Riverside, California. We embarked and assigned barracks. The following days we received physicals, shots and trained on how to scramble up and down some netting much like ones we saw in movies and newsreels. We never did know where we were going and rumors were ramped as we kept our winter clothing so guessing was Alaska or maybe Australia. After a week at that base we were again assembled with our gear and barracks bags and boarded a train. Upon entering the train all the shades were pulled and we were instructed not to peek or let them up on our journey wherever that was. The train trip lasted about five or six hours. When it finally stopped we got off the train we were on a wharf and berthed next to a huge ship. It was sure larger than the Queen on Lake West Okoboji. We were formed in single file carrying our gear and barracks bags and as we approached the gangplank our names were read and we answered with our Army Serial Number. My ASN was 37675696 and told to proceed where a sailor escorted us into the ship. The officer in charge never asked for my passport-Ha! Ha! I won’t go into great detail of life aboard a troopship for 33 days but it wasn’t pleasant but endurable. I recall that when Connie and I took a cruise to Alaska I felt like a King with my Queen after my first ocean cruise; a stateroom, real bed, shower, toilet and sink with fresh water and a view with a balcony. Our troopship’s stateroom had 400 men, four tier bunks, and salt water showers. The portholes covered over and welded shut and we were issued two canteens of water each day. The food on the cruise ship was great with all you wanted to eat and more, shows, entertainment, bars and lounges. What a contrast! The Alaskan Cruise was great but we still had to present identification upon leaving and entering the ship. Since that first venture to Mexico we have traveled to the Panama Canal, Hawaiian Islands, Belgium and Holland, Ireland and Mexico. The American passport is a valued piece of paper and one is always warned to keep it secure at all times. Several incidents come to mind relating to our passports having to be presented upon entering and exiting countries. I recall going to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico several years ago. We flew Alaskan Airline and upon disembarking the plane with our carryon bags proceeded into the terminal. Lines were formed and as one approached the Mexican officials there was a Stop and Go sign that flashed for each person entering. If the light was green you just proceeded ahead but if you got a red light you were stopped, presented your passport and the officials opened and went through your carryons. In all our travels to foreign countries that operation was unique. Passport pictures are much like your state driver’s license photos in that they are never glorious. Today it takes a longer period of time to get an American passport. Times change and I’m sure our president doesn’t have to show his passport upon entering foreign countries but I wonder if American troops have to have a passport to enter and exit Iran or Afghanistan?MEMORY LANE PASSPORTS BY R. AUBREY LA FOY A favorite pastime of mine when I was a kid was to visit my uncle and aunt home only ½ block from my house. My aunt was my Mother’s elder sister and my uncle was a printer. Uncle Ray always subscribed to the National Geographic Magazine and I spent hours poring through those magazines looking at weird people, their dress, customs, buildings, maps and styles. The magazine opened up a world far removed from our small tight nit community in Iowa. We could dream and wondered if we would ever get to travel and see some of those exotic places and people. Little did I know at that time (age10 or 11) that by the time I was 21 years old my journeys would take me clear around the world. In July 1943 I left Milford, Iowa and traveled west and west and west until I returned to Milford from the east in January 1946. When I was a kid the highest hill I had ever seen was Hi Point on the west side of Lake West Okoboji but before I returned home in 1946 I had seen and driven mountains in Burma and China flew over the Himalayans of Tibet. The largest boat that I had ridden on prior to 1944 was the Queen on Okoboji but before I returned home in January 1946 had voyaged on an ocean going vessel that held over 8,000 people and another that held 3,500 military personal. Wow! The largest body of water I had observed prior to 1943 was Big Spirit Lake and then I sailed across the Pacific Ocean, Indian Ocean, Bay of Bengal, Red Sea, Mediterranean Sea and the Atlantic Ocean. The Little Sioux River was huge when I was a kid but it didn’t compare with the Missouri River, Hooghly or Irrawadity in India, the Yangzee in China, Hudson River or the Mississippi River in the USA. I thought people from Minnesota talked different until I associated with fellows from Brooklyn and Texas but that was nothing compared with the languages in India and China. Years ago we would beg my Father to drive up past the Inn so we might see some of the employees but we found out in World War II the color of our skin was in the minority in India and China. I won’t even get into religions but when we found out that cows were sacred in India that was the ultimate. My Grandfather, two uncles and my father were butchers and that wouldn’t go very well in India. I also never had a good steak in India or China. We ate chicken and pork but no beef unless you call water buffalo beef, but chewing it was another venture. All of those adventures fulfilled the pages of the old National Geographic. In 1998 Connie and I celebrated our 50th wedding anniversary. We were married in 1948 while still in college at Iowa State Teachers College at Cedar Falls. To help us celebrate that occasion our three sons, Randy, Ray and Carl presented us with a trip to Mexico. The original plan was to go to Cancun, Mexico but because they had just had a hurricane there switched our destination to Mazatlan, Mexico. Prior to leaving on that trip we applied for a passport. Although I had traveled clear around the Earth, entered and exited six countries not counting the USA it was my first passport. Since that time I have had to secure another as the first one expired because of time. I will state also, that getting the second passport was a bit more complicated that getting the second especially since 9/11. My first encounter leaving the USA occurred in February 1944. The military outfit I was assigned were slated to go overseas. I was with the XX Bomber Command-B-29s Air Corps in Great Bend, Kansas. We trained there and in February told to gather our gear, assemble in front of the barracks and marched five blocks to a waiting railroad train. Each man was assigned a certain coach and in we went not knowing our destination. There were four of us in seats facing each other along with our gear. Our barracks bags were stored elsewhere. The only way we could tell where we were was to see the station names but finally we stopped in a military camp near Riverside, California. We embarked and assigned barracks. The following days we received physicals, shots and trained on how to scramble up and down some netting much like ones we saw in movies and newsreels. We never did know where we were going and rumors were ramped as we kept our winter clothing so guessing was Alaska or maybe Australia. After a week at that base we were again assembled with our gear and barracks bags and boarded a train. Upon entering the train all the shades were pulled and we were instructed not to peek or let them up on our journey wherever that was. The train trip lasted about five or six hours. When it finally stopped we got off the train we were on a wharf and berthed next to a huge ship. It was sure larger than the Queen on Lake West Okoboji. We were formed in single file carrying our gear and barracks bags and as we approached the gangplank our names were read and we answered with our Army Serial Number. My ASN was 37675696 and told to proceed where a sailor escorted us into the ship. The officer in charge never asked for my passport-Ha! Ha! I won’t go into great detail of life aboard a troopship for 33 days but it wasn’t pleasant but endurable. I recall that when Connie and I took a cruise to Alaska I felt like a King with my Queen after my first ocean cruise; a stateroom, real bed, shower, toilet and sink with fresh water and a view with a balcony. Our troopship’s stateroom had 400 men, four tier bunks, and salt water showers. The portholes covered over and welded shut and we were issued two canteens of water each day. The food on the cruise ship was great with all you wanted to eat and more, shows, entertainment, bars and lounges. What a contrast! The Alaskan Cruise was great but we still had to present identification upon leaving and entering the ship. Since that first venture to Mexico we have traveled to the Panama Canal, Hawaiian Islands, Belgium and Holland, Ireland and Mexico. The American passport is a valued piece of paper and one is always warned to keep it secure at all times. Several incidents come to mind relating to our passports having to be presented upon entering and exiting countries. I recall going to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico several years ago. We flew Alaskan Airline and upon disembarking the plane with our carryon bags proceeded into the terminal. Lines were formed and as one approached the Mexican officials there was a Stop and Go sign that flashed for each person entering. If the light was green you just proceeded ahead but if you got a red light you were stopped, presented your passport and the officials opened and went through your carryons. In all our travels to foreign countries that operation was unique. Passport pictures are much like your state driver’s license photos in that they are never glorious. Today it takes a longer period of time to get an American passport. Times change and I’m sure our president doesn’t have to show his passport upon entering foreign countries but I wonder if American troops have to have a passport to enter and exit Iran or Afghanistan?

MEMORY LANE

PASSPORTS

BY R. AUBREY LA FOY

A favorite pastime of mine when I was a kid was to visit my uncle and aunt home only ½ block from my house. My aunt was my Mother’s elder sister and my uncle was a printer. Uncle Ray always subscribed to the National Geographic Magazine and I spent hours poring through those magazines looking at weird people, their dress, customs, buildings, maps and styles. The magazine opened up a world far removed from our small tight nit community in Iowa. We could dream and wondered if we would ever get to travel and see some of those exotic places and people. Little did I know at that time (age10 or 11) that by the time I was 21 years old my journeys would take me clear around the world.

In July 1943 I left Milford, Iowa and traveled west and west and west until I returned to Milford from the east in January 1946. When I was a kid the highest hill I had ever seen was Hi Point on the west side of Lake West Okoboji but before I returned home in 1946 I had seen and driven mountains in Burma and China flew over the Himalayans of Tibet. The largest boat that I had ridden on prior to 1944 was the Queen on Okoboji but before I returned home in January 1946 had voyaged on an ocean going vessel that held over 8,000 people and another that held 3,500 military personal. Wow! The largest body of water I had observed prior to 1943 was Big Spirit Lake and then I sailed across the Pacific Ocean, Indian Ocean, Bay of Bengal, Red Sea, Mediterranean Sea and the Atlantic Ocean. The Little Sioux River was huge when I was a kid but it didn’t compare with the Missouri River, Hooghly or Irrawadity in India, the Yangzee in China, Hudson River or the Mississippi River in the USA. I thought people from Minnesota talked different until I associated with fellows from Brooklyn and Texas but that was nothing compared with the languages in India and China.

Years ago we would beg my Father to drive up past the Inn so we might see some of the employees but we found out in World War II the color of our skin was in the minority in India and China.  I won’t even get into religions but when we found out that cows were sacred in India that was the ultimate. My Grandfather, two uncles and my father were butchers and that wouldn’t go very well in India. I also never had a good steak in India or China. We ate chicken and pork but no beef unless you call water buffalo beef, but chewing it was another venture. All of those adventures fulfilled the pages of the old National Geographic.

In 1998 Connie and I celebrated our 50^th wedding anniversary. We were married in 1948 while still in college at Iowa State Teachers College at Cedar Falls. To help us celebrate that occasion our three sons, Randy, Ray and Carl presented us with a trip to Mexico. The original plan was to go to Cancun, Mexico but because they had just had a hurricane there switched our destination to Mazatlan, Mexico. Prior to leaving on that trip we applied for a passport. Although I had traveled clear around the Earth, entered and exited six countries not counting the USA it was my first passport. Since that time I have had to secure another as the first one expired because of time. I will state also, that getting the second passport was a bit more complicated that getting the second especially since 9/11.

My first encounter leaving the USA occurred in February 1944. The military outfit I was assigned were slated to go overseas. I was with the XX Bomber Command-B-29s Air Corps in Great Bend, Kansas. We trained there and in February told to gather our gear, assemble in front of the barracks and marched five blocks to a waiting railroad train. Each man was assigned a certain coach and in we went not knowing our destination. There were four of us in seats facing each other along with our gear. Our barracks bags were stored elsewhere. The only way we could tell where we were was to see the station names but finally we stopped in a military camp near Riverside, California.

We embarked and assigned barracks. The following days we received physicals, shots and trained on how to scramble up and down some netting much like ones we saw in movies and newsreels. We never did know where we were going and rumors were ramped as we kept our winter clothing so guessing was Alaska or maybe Australia. After a week at that base we were again assembled with our gear and barracks bags and boarded a train. Upon entering the train all the shades were pulled and we were instructed not to peek or let them up on our journey wherever that was. The train trip lasted about five or six hours. When it finally stopped we got off the train we were on a wharf and berthed next to a huge ship. It was sure larger than the Queen on Lake West Okoboji. We were formed in single file carrying our gear and barracks bags and as we approached the gangplank our names were read and we answered with our Army Serial Number. My ASN was 37675696 and told to proceed where a sailor escorted us into the ship. The officer in charge never asked for my passport-Ha! Ha! I won’t go into great detail of life aboard a troopship for 33 days but it wasn’t pleasant but endurable.

I recall that when Connie and I took a cruise to Alaska I felt like a King with my Queen after my first ocean cruise; a stateroom, real bed, shower, toilet and sink with fresh water and a view with a balcony. Our troopship’s stateroom had 400 men, four tier bunks, and salt water showers. The portholes covered over and welded shut and we were issued two canteens of water each day. The food on the cruise ship was great with all you wanted to eat and more, shows, entertainment, bars and lounges. What a contrast!  The Alaskan Cruise was great but we still had to present identification upon leaving and entering the ship.

Since that first venture to Mexico we have traveled to the Panama Canal, Hawaiian Islands, Belgium and Holland, Ireland and Mexico. The American passport is a valued piece of paper and one is always warned to keep it secure at all times. Several incidents come to mind relating to our passports having to be presented upon entering and exiting countries.

I recall going to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico several years ago. We flew Alaskan Airline and upon disembarking the plane with our carryon bags proceeded into the terminal. Lines were formed and as one approached the Mexican officials there was a Stop and Go sign that flashed for each person entering. If the light was green you just proceeded ahead but if you got a red light you were stopped, presented your passport and the officials opened and went through your carryons. In all our travels to foreign countries that operation was unique.

Passport pictures are much like your state driver’s license photos in that they are never glorious. Today it takes a longer period of time to get an American passport. Times change and I’m sure our president doesn’t have to show his passport upon entering foreign countries but I wonder if American troops have to have a passport to enter and exit Iran or Afghanistan?