Where does time go? This was a much repeated question at the annual reunion of the 45th Inf. Division in Oklahoma City last week. It hardly seems possible that nearly 55 years have passed since I joined this outfit in Italy.

The 45th Div. served both in WWII and Korea, so our reunions are attended by veterans of both wars. Without name tags showing service in which war, it would be tough to separate the two groups. None of us look like kids!

After all of these years, it is fun to visit with old buddies and remember some of the places we saw; and usually someone in the group comes up with a soldier’s name I have been desperately trying to remember.

All of us remembered how we used to look forward to mail call. One of the fellows told about his buddy receiving a “Dear John” letter from his girl back home. One of my friends, who is a Choctaw Indian from Tulsa, Okla. spoke up and said, “I used to get one of those every week or two.” A young lady from New Jersey asked him how he could possibly handle such a situation. His reply was “Oh it didn’t bother me at all — You see, my name is John Brown."

At the memorial service. an interesting film of the Division’s activities during both wars was shown while a list of 170 names of comrades was read. This list was those who were members of the 45th Div. Assn., who died during the past year.

The Chaplain in charge of the memorial service concluded with this little story: Nine year old Tommy was puzzled by the list of names on a plaque in the sanctuary of his church.  The minister explained to Tommy that this done to honor the men listed, who died in the service. “Oh, I understand now”, Tommy said – “but ‘ was that the eight-thirty or the eleven o’clock service?”