Bernie Reinhart “Life” Story February 10, 2010

I was born February 14, 1925 on a farm near Carey, Ohio. Our home did not have electricity, inside plumbing or a furnace. We did have kerosene lamps and a pot- belly stove. We lived in a log-cabin home with clapboard siding. During the winter, we stacked corn fodder around the perimeter of the home to keep warm. 


I had 3 older brothers and 4 younger sisters. One sister, died shortly after birth. All the children slept upstairs, 4 boys, in one bedroom and 3 girls in another bedroom. With no heat we would place a soap stone on our living room pot belled stove, heat it and take it upstairs and move it all over the bed before we crawled into bed. Many times in the morning we would find ice on our blankets from our breathing. Our mattress and blankets were made out of straw from the wheat fields.

We lived on a 120 acre farm, a large garden, plenty of milk and meat, having 10 milking cows, 50 head of sheep, 100 laying hens, 10 brood hogs and 7 working horses. We grew mostly corn, wheat, oats, soy beans, sometimes tomatoes and sugar beets for selling. Dad always depended on supply and demand and not government aids. 

Since, my three brothers arrived first in our family and I being the 4^th boy my brother Frank tells the story that when I arrived my Mother slapped my Father because she wanted a girl to help with the house work, and my Dad wanted another boy to help with the farm work. I never found out if that was a true story. I really don’t think so.

With four brothers in one family and only 5 years apart brought only many interesting shenanigans in which I will mention a few: My brother Frank was four old when he climbed to the top of our 40 ft barn with an umbrella hoping to jump off and while at the very edge with his legs hanging over our midwife at the time yelled, “Franklin, you come down from there right now” and with that he came down and received one heck of a spanking.

Another time before we went to school, we went into our barn and found a beautiful mother skunk with 3 little babies tagging along, I jump upon the hay rake standing near and grabbed this cute little skunk that proceeded to spray all over me. I went to school only to have the teacher send me home immediately. Needless to say, Mom ended up burning my cloths.

We did something bad I guess, my Mother (Esther) told my Dad (Linus) to take us to the wood shed, which by the way, was too often I thought, that meant a good whipping. My Dad said, “Now Esther” and my Mother said “Don’t you Esther me”. Anyway, we went to the wood shed and before my brother Frank got hit, he started to scream so loud that my Mother came out on the porch and yelled, “Linus, you don’t have to kill them”.

One time a Bee Hive burned down in our neighboring town of Fostoria, Ohio. My father took us over to see the results and after we arrived home, my brothers would ask me, being 7 years old, what burned down in Fostoria, Ohio and I would reply, “B I”. I could not say beehive, so from then on through school and until I joined the Navy, everyone in our community called me B. I. To this day when I go back home no one knows my name other than B.I.

I started to school when I was five years old and by the time I was six, I had to milk two cows before going to school. Dad would follow around to make sure that I pumped all the milk out of each cow serviced. I did additional chores before walking over a mile to a one room school house. This school house was equipped with a pop bellied stove for heat, eight grades and only one teacher. During the winter, especially if it rained and froze during the night, the snow, being so high, covered with ice; that we would take a short cut by walking across the tops of the fence rows.

I learned to swim, at six years old, when going to a pool, man made mud hole , nine miles from home when a seventeen year old neighbor pushed me into the deep end and kept yelling “swim” until I reached the bank. So I dog paddled all the way to shore.

Looking back, some 11 years later, I passed a 3 miles swim test, in the Navy air force, that required swimming in deep water through fired oil slicks by splashing water and coming up for breath, removal of my pants, tying knots in the leg ends, throwing the pants over my head collecting enough air for a floating device and swimming the rest of the way. Thank God for the neighbor boy, who establish a work and ethic in me that lasted for the rest of my life.

Another time a fifteen years old neighbor took us four boys and four of his friends over to the same mud hole in his Model “A” Ford. Four sat in the front seat and three in the rumble seat with two of us sitting on either side with our feet in side the rumble seat. On our way home and driving quite fast we hit the groves in a cross road, all roads were gravel roads, and at every cross road there would be deep groves cause by vehicles turning that threw the car flipping over several times, landing into a farmer’s field. The next thing I remembered was a farmer coming at us with a lantern, it was night time, helping those still pinned in the wreck and consoling those that were thrown clear. The results were unbelievable in that my brothers Harold received a broken collar bone, Donald had 3 fingers scrapped and broken, Frank had a hole in his buttock from landing on a steel post and I and the rest were just shaken up. Five of us were thrown completely away from the car. The next day, we all, including the newspaper and the townspeople, viewed the car and no one could believe that we all had survived this completely demolished automobile. It had flipped over front to back and rolled over several times.

My brother Frank, ten years old and I eight years old decided to run away from home, one night, so we shinnied down the side of the house, 2^nd floor, by way of the lightening rod wire and proceeded to run away on our, one and only silver king bicycle. Mom told Dad that she heard some noise at the side of the house and Dad looked and said, “It’s BI and Frank, just let them go, they will be back”. Needless to say, we got about two miles away from home and chickened out, came back and nothing was ever mentioned of our escapades.

I can not talk about myself unless I first say something about my Dad as to his influence on me. Dad’s philosophies were “If you do not have anything good to say, don’t say anything at all”. “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you” and “If a task is once begun, never leave it until it is done”. Also, both Mom and Dad had great attributes of which I know that I inherited and of which my children often disagreed, namely: Strong faith, Strong work ethics, Disciplinarian, Strong family relationships, Strong sense of community and a Good Marriage. For this, I thank God every day.

Jake LaMotta, ME, Carmen Basilio

I participated in football and boxing during high school days. I graduated at 17 years old and joined the Navy in 1942. I participated in the sport of boxing throughout my Navy career and after some 4 years, four broken noses, four cracked ribs, four broken thumbs and cuts over both eyes; I was awarded one of the light- heavy boxing champions of the South Pacific. Quite an award for getting beat up. I am pictured above with Jake La Motta & Carman Basilio, former Pro World Boxing Champions.

Reminiscing, about my Navy boxing career, I fought this well muscled bound guy, while in Seattle, Washington. My manager, apparently, saw some anxiety in me. So, he said, “Hey, looks are only skin deep, this guy is a bum”. Well, in the first round he broke my nose and I was bleeding very badly. My manager wanted to stop the fight, but I didn’t want to quit. So, he said, “One more round”. Fortunately for me, the next round the guy really came after me like a mad dog. The first punch I landed, a straight right hand that broke his nose, blood spattering all over, he kept wiping his blood and looking at his injury while I kept punching until the referee stopped the fight.

Another time, while at sea, we often had fights to entertain the sailors. During one of these events, I fought a guy that was stopped because of my nose bleeding, another broken nose and for the next 3 months, I begged this guy to fight me again. The more he avoided me, the more irritated I became until the match finally was scheduled. I, finally beat him decisively. You know what, after this match, he and I became the best of friends. Paper stories below!

Chicago

Florida

I didn’t pay anything for these accolades or maybe I did pay a little because I have heard said, “That guy is a little crazy at times”. All other news worthy articles, if one wants to call them news worthy, including rewards, sorry to say, went down with the ship. These two articles were sent home doing my fighting days in the states.

The above, mentioned stories, are mentioned because they project a great lessons, in that one should never stop punching, working for if you really believe in or want, for if your desires are strong enough, any task will be attainable. Never let your adverse emotions control your actions. They maybe right or they may be wrong but no matter who is right or who is wrong doesn’t really make much difference in one’s short life. Grudges are so ineffective, time consuming and detrimental to ones health and welfare for all anyone continues to does is nurse, rehearse and curse without the other person knowing of the grudge. So, confront the issue head on, get over it and stop beating, physiologically, yourself up.

I often wondered why, managers, arm chair quarter backs and even people in the stands know how to win a fight or a game even though they have never participated in the sport. Many times I kept thinking to myself, “why in the hell,” doesn’t my manager fight this guy? He seems to know all the proper moves”. Later on in life, I realized that without a manager I probably would have lost more contests. I do know that one becomes a robot and does what the trainer says no matter what else happens.

I have stopped going to fights and games because of all the critiquing that goes on during the rounds or after the fight or game is over. It drives me crazy.

When I was discharged from the Navy, I considered boxing but my wife, to be really honest, hated the sport, calling it “Animalistic”. For many years, I maintained and used a heavy punching bag that hung in our basement and a speed bag that hung in our garage. Still hoping that I could make some sort of come back later on in life, I, now, realized that my wife had more common sense than I could ever muster up.

However, it still is in my blood because I continue to watch every boxing match and football game shown on television. I guarantee you and do know that if my Dorothy where here, I would not be watching or attending to many “macho” sports events.

I remember one time a friend ask me, “If I ever thought of divorce?” I said, “No” I never have” then he ask, “Dorothy, did you ever think of divorce”? Dorothy said, “No, I have never but I have thought of murder several times”. I am sure, at that point in time, she was speaking from the heart.

Next Bernard joined the Navy and it left another void in our home with three of our brothers going into service. Many more neighborhood boys went into service before the end of their senior year in high school. That meant, for me there were no more dates, movies or dances however for those of us left at home, with gasoline rationing, etc. we could only go to church on Sundays and to the grocery store sometime during the week because no stores were open on Sunday. There were no TVs, so we just listened to the radio

After Navy boot camp, I aspired to become a Navy Pilot. I was sent to Navy Pier for Aviation Mechanical School for 8 weeks during which I met my future wife to be Dorothy Trossen. She was visiting her aunt in Chicago. Then to my surprise, my brother, Harold, with his new wife Mary Fran (Dorothy’s sister whom I never met before) came to visit me at Navy Pier while on their honeymoon. Soon after, my brother boarded his assigned Aircraft Carrier and was shipped out to sea. In fact, prior to this meeting, I had never met any of the Trossen family because I was in the Navy when he got married.

The Trossen family resided in Cleveland, Ohio and formally lived in Chicago. Dorothy was a student Nurse at Saint Alexis School of Nursing in Cleveland, Ohio. I had only 2 dates with her while stationed at Navy Pier. The following week, I was sent to Radar school in Memphis, Tennessee for 3 weeks training, then to Hollywood, Florida for Gunnery School for 3 weeks and then to Opaloca Air Base for pilot training. Unbeknown to me, Don, my brother, was missing in action and my mother was writing to the Navy Department stating that she already had a son missing action, another son that was over seas and that was enough sacrifice for one family. Mothers always know best. Right?

Needless to say, like a dummy, I was anxious to get into action and asked to be transferred and was assigned to an Aircraft Carrier. By this time, both of my brothers were in action, Donald flying (B 17) and Harold a gunnery officer on an Aircraft Carrier.

The Navy accepted my petition to ship out. I flew as a Machine Gunner, in a Torpedo Bomber airplane off an aircraft carrier, called, “The Bismarck Sea”.

While waiting to be shipped out, I met my new sister-in-law, Mary Fran, in LaJolla, California where she was staying and working while my brother was at sea. Within a few days my new sister-in-law convinced me to buy and send her sister Dorothy, an engagement ring for which she loaned me $100 dollars. Can you believe becoming engaged after “only” two dates? “Yes” things were very different in those days and “yes” she was quite a sales lady and a beautiful person too. I must have been a quite a salesman to because she accepted the ring. Don’t you think??

A letter written by my sister Mary Lou, the 5^th child and 1^st daughter of Linus and Esther Reinhart, remembers the day Donald went into service. Virginia, the youngest of the Reinhart children, attended the first grade that same day, so it really left a void in our in our home. We were so worried about Donald going into the Air Force. Harold was called into the Navy, a senior at Ohio State University and the Navy left him complete his college education.

One day, the mail man drove into our driveway and Frank (the only brother left at home) was outside and the mailman gave him a letter from the War Department, he threw it on the kitchen door and left the house for he surmised that it was bad news. Dad picked up the letter and read it to Mom, Rita and me. It said, “Donald was missing in action”. Mom just knew he was dead. She was so upset we had to put her in bed and call the doctor. He came, out to our farm, right away, gave her a sedative and told her to stay in bed. This was 11:00 in the morning and at 4:00 in the afternoon, the same day, a call came that said, “Mom’s mother was dying”. Grandma did die several days later. It was a very sad funeral.

We, next, heard from the Navy Department that Brother Harold’s ship, the U.S.S. Kadasham Bay, was hit by a Japanese (Kamikaze) pilot. One of many pilots that died for Japan under duress. We later learned that Harold, fortunately, was safe. We, next, received a telegram from the Navy Department that was all blacked out. We turned on the radio and the news said, “The U.S.S. Bismarck Sea, Bernie’s ship, was sunk off Iwo Jima. Again, we didn’t know if he was alive. We all prayed every day that the boys were safe. We, also, heard that two boys and friends from our neighborhood were killed in the service. Needless to say, we were all just living in a fog. By Mary Reinhart, sister.

I was shipped out and after several engagements and 3 major battles; my carrier was sunk off Iwo Jima, being hit by 3 Suicides Airplanes Planes (kamikazes) and a Torpedo.

(More information and coverage of the above action will follow)

Brothers meet in the Admiralty Islands: South Pacific

When trying to capture the Philippines Islands, the Japanese’s navy made us retreat to Manus in the Admiralty Islands for reinforcement, supplies etc. for the sole purpose of going back an securing the Philippines in which we later did accomplish. During the time that my ship was in Manus, unbeknown to me, at the time, my brother’s ship was also there. 

 

It was during the Christmas season, so I took a small boat over to his ship and we had dinner together. Our ships did go back and secure the Philippines. Later during our return, my brother’s ship was hit by a Kamikaze, suicide, plane. He was manning the guns shooting at the planes coming in loaded with explosives when one of the planes got through, hitting his ship causing a big hole but not sinking the ship. His ship then sailed to Manila where it was repaired, welding underwater, by the Navy Seals and it was the first time this feat was ever tried and it was successful. By the way, the Jap plane hit in my brother sleeping quarters area. Fortunately, no one was injured because all personal was above deck trying to shoot down Japanese planes.

During my Navy career I attended Mass only a few times because, more often than not, there were no priests available. Anyway, my interest was not there even though before every boxing match I did not fail to make the sign of the cross and after I won the match I, also, failed to give thanks. Now to the point of this letter!! There were two young men on our ship that were very undisciplined, ornery and troublesome. We, all, maintained that they would have intercourse with a snake if someone would hold it. Now that is bad. Anyway, after one Japanese plane hit our ship and I was topside removing a pilot from another carrier, the Saratoga, which had been hit, the pilot was crying and beside himself because his friend was taking off from his carrier when he was directly hit by another Japanese plane. Then after the second Japanese hit our ship, plus a torpedo our captain said over the loudspeaker, "ABANDON SHIP," ABANDON SHIP”. I proceeded to help the injured and yell for everyone to abandon ship. Looking around I saw these two men mentioned above just kneeling at the aft elevator with their hand folded looking skyward.

I then yelled again,” ABANDON SHIP," and jumped into the water. I never heard or seen those two men after the event. So, as the story goes "No one has ever seen an Atheist in a Fox hole” rings very true to me. I say, “No one ever wins in a war”.

Sure people will say, “We won the war” but after reviewing all the young and innocent people lost, I ask, “Did we really win the war?? I don’t think so!!

Finally to the rest of my ship sinking story, we where about 7 miles off shore, after strafing and bombing all day, when the first plane struck our ship at 7:00 PM. When the second airplane hit, the captain ordered, “Abandon Ship”.

Of course, all hell broke loose on board ship; during this event, men were screaming and other were dying or dead after the first plane hit. The personnel that were in charge of untying the life rafts had cut all the lines that held the rafts including the line that tows the raft along side the ship until it was filled with men. The ship kept moving because the Suicide planes were still coming in, diving at our ship, it was nighttime and our ship being on fire gave the enemy an easy target. The mentality of the enemy was that it was an honor to die for their country. While all this was going on, our life rafts were drifting away, empty. This all happened in the month of February, the water was extremely cold, same as the ocean waters around the state of Washington. 

When I jumped overboard my life vest came off and disappeared. So, I kept swimming and treading water away from the exploding ship for along time until I found several life rafts in a group that was quite a safe distant from my ship that was still moving away. I boarded one of the rafts and proceeded to pick up some 8 screaming sailors. The water was very cold, turbulent and the high waves were tossing us around like a tree leaf. Many other sailors, in the water, were screening and crying for help, while our other ships in the area were throwing lines over board hoping to save more men however the Japanese were still coming in, strafing, dropping bombs and firing torpedoes. Many of the men who grabbed the lines would not let go, called a death hold, and were sucked under and killed by our own ships propellers. Remember, when I said, “The ship was ablaze” it was like daytime on the ocean and when the ship went down it was pitch black. There were waves 8 to 15 feet high, very viscous and turbulent. Every thing became very quite, just the water’s mammoth waves were hitting us and with “death” grips, we were holding onto the raft. After about 2 hours in this cold, freezing water, I truly felt that we were not going to make it out alive. Funny thing, I was not afraid and I was not going to give up when I finally saw this big monster of a ship, in the blacken night, coming out of the water toward us, I screamed, as loud as possible, then the ship, a destroyer Escort, flashed it’s large search light on us, pulled along side and picked us out of the water. Unfortunately, there were only 4 of us remaining on the raft. The other five, unbeknown to me were washed overboard by the high waves in the dark. Again, it was so dark that one could not see the hands in front of their faces. When they pulled me aboard my right knee was almost frozen so they sat me down and loudly insisted that I drink what I thought was ginger ale, however it turned out to be straight whiskey. I proceeded to vomit all salt water that I had swallowed in which ultimately saved my life. I was informed that in another seven minutes I could not have been saved. Why so much intake of salt water you may ask? Remember, our ship was loaded with 110 Octane Gasoline, Bombs, and Torpedoes and each time any of these exploded, I was trained to dive down into the water, as deep as possible, to avoid the heavy debris that kept coming down. For some 90 minutes I was up and down many times during this unfortunate event. Fortunately I was one of the 370 survivors out of over 1000 Seaman. I attribute my survival to God, my physical condition and lots of luck.The next morning many men were buried in the sea, dieing from water intake and cold weather exposure.

I was transferred to a Troop Carrier. I was really surprised when the sailor that pulled me aboard, stationed on this ship was a man I played high school football with while living in my small home town of Carey, Ohio. This carrier took many wounded Army, Marine and Navy men back to a Saipan hospital. No one and I mean no one, can comprehend or visualize the suffering, screaming, and begging of these many injured men, bleeding, dying and calling for some family member for help throughout the entire hospital journey. The situation was unbelievable. (Sorry more tears). Later, we were taken to a hospital in Hawaii. Yes, sorry to say, the lucky one never comes back. Many that do come back are maimed for life, physically and mentally. I see it every time I volunteer, some 500 hours so far, at the Tucson VA hospital. Families and friends are still crying openly about those who need care. It is a damn shame. Everyone who wants war should be made to participate on the front lines and fine out how bad and ridicules wars are. I maintain that no one wins and personally believe that their macho attitudes would drastically be changed. I have visited the above scene (ship’s explosion) many, many time throughout my life and it has been a turning point in my road to Christianity.

A Cursillo weekend, a short course in Christianity, surely had a large impact on my life however the above mentioned event surpasses all others. Yes, maybe, all of us need some tragic event in our lives to appreciate the need for some higher being to assist us in our life’s travels.

Two standout events happened in my life that really was unexplainable. The first one after attending the weekend mentioned about, I was invited to attend a weekend for future leaders in Pittsburg Pa. in which there were several speakers and after the speeches we were to discuss the talk, four men at each table, regarding its relationship to our individual lives. At my table there was an well muscled individual in a tank top shirt, with the word “Hate” tattooed on his left hand just below his knuckles and the word “Love” on his right hand. It appeared to me that every time I would discuss a subject, he would always disagree. Needless to say that it bothered me enough that I began praying that he would bump me enough, some how, that I would have to prove to him that I could physical turn his hate into a broken nose or whatever. Anyway, we all took a break by going into the chapel to pray. I would not even sit near him and here I was attending a Christian seminar. Shortly after entering the Chapel, this guy stood up and openly apologizes to the Lord for not being able to pray but would like to sing the Lords prayer. He started to sing, when he was about half way the song, tears started to row down my cheeks and becoming quite embarrassed I reached for my handkerchief when out of nowhere came this voice saying, “What are you so ashamed of” and looking around no one was talking to me, then I heard it again. Now, that is a shocker! Anyway, as we, all went outside where everyone was hugging and thanking him. I finally went up to him and gave him the biggest hug, tears and all, that I have ever given to anyone. “Yes, we did become friends after that event; in fact we both became leaders in many Cursillo weekend events. He worked in Pittsburg and I in Ohio.

Another note worthy event was after working some fourteen weekends in many different positions, I receive a telephone call from Defiance, Ohio, some 50 miles away, asking me to put together and direct the next weekend. Keep in mind that the guide lines were that one could only be director once and I had already did it twice, so I said, “Thank but no thanks, explaining the written guide lines terms”. He said, “I understand but we really need you for the job, so please pray on it, sleep on it and let me know” I said, “OK” knowing full well that I was not going to go there”. And besides I had my business to run. At the time the call came in Dorothy and I were sitting in our living room reading the newspaper, so after the call I proceeded to sit down and continued to read the paper when I heard very clearly, “The Lord called your name, listen closely you will hear the same”. I turned and ask Dorothy, “What did you say”? Dorothy said, “What is wrong with you? I did not say anything”. Then I heard it again, got up, went directly to the telephone, dialed a number and before I said anything this voice on the other end of the line said, “Thanks, Bernie, I really do appreciate your acceptance”. Now, if that doesn’t shake ones thinking, nothing ever will. It sure did mine.

Life is a gift and a miracle, so it behooves all of us to reap any and all avenues necessary to make this an enjoyable, peaceful and rewarding journey.