By Meridith Kohut
There were ways to battle tedium in the long stretches at sea: poker games, movie nights and dishes of ice cream. But for Gilbert Garcia of Houston, Texas, it was mostly the poker winnings he relished.
At sea, Garcia was perhaps the best poker player on ship. He boasts being able to win hands despite other players sharing their cards with one another in an effort to beat him.
By Lynn Maguire
Rafael Fierro graduated from a small Texas high school in May of 1939, hoping to go to college on a basketball scholarship; but rather than donning a basketball jersey, he put on the uniform of a U.S. soldier.
"I went to the Sanderson [,Texas,] courthouse and signed up as a volunteer," wrote Fierro in comments to the Project. "On February 20th, 1941, I received orders to report to Ft. Bliss [in] Texas ... for boot camp."
By Jennifer Yee
Like many veterans coming home from World War II, Henry Falcon remembers having a difficult time adjusting to American society. His return to the peace of America was a stark contrast to his three years of fierce air combat as a gunner on bomber missions over Europe.
By Xochitl Salazar
Manuel Espinoza's father, Concepción, was struck by lightning in 1930 while working on railroad tracks in Colorado.
The older Espinoza's death had great repercussions: His young widow, Ventura Mendoza Espinoza, and their three sons moved to San Antonio, Texas, to stay with her parents. Ventura began working and her boys helped her out. In time, though, Espinoza would join the Navy and survive battles in the Philippines before returning to start a life of his own.
By Bianca Camaño
Education was always important in the Esparza home. So from an early age, Angel Esparza expected he and his six siblings would graduate from high school and go on to college.
Esparza attributes his high educational goals to his mother, Guadalupe Vega Esparza.
"My mother was pro-education like you won't believe," said Esparza, who was born in El Paso, Texas, in 1922. "We were all going to get all the education possible, so we did."
By Sandra Freyberg
Growing up as the oldest of six girls, Concepción Alvarado Escobedo learned early what it means to take responsibility. Even when she was hardly more than a toddler she helped her mother take care of her younger sisters. Later, she washed diapers, first boiling the clothes and then scrubbing them on a washboard.
By Israel Saenz
Davie Elizardo never asked for much. For a woman who grew up without an education, doing field labor throughout the day and watching one of her brothers go off to fight in the Pacific, the wellbeing of her family is all she needs.
"I just want that my grandchildren find good work and not have to struggle," Elizardo said. "They have very good opportunities."
To struggle and work hard to get by was so much a way of life for Elizardo, she hardly noticed it.
By SHELBY DOWNS
Miguel de la Peña's first injury in World War II landed him in the infirmary for two days. His second injury landed him his wife of 58 years.
After first suffering a concussion at Normandy in July, Mr. de la Peña was wounded by another artillery shell in Bretagne, France. He ended up in a hospital in Taunton, north of Liverpool, England, where another injured soldier persuaded him to go on a double date with two of the nurses there.
"I met her on a blind date and I became blind right away," Mr. De la Peña said.
By Shelby Downs
Miguel de la Peña’s first injury in World War II landed him in the infirmary for two days. His second injury landed him his wife of 58 years.
After first suffering a concussion at Normandy, de la Peña was wounded by another artillery shell in Bretagne, France. He ended up in a hospital in Taunton, north of Liverpool, England, where another injured soldier persuaded him to go on a double date with a nurse there.
"I met her on a blind date and I became blind right away," de la Peña said.
By Alyssa Armentrout
As U.S. Army medic Santiago Craver drove his ambulance up to the pick-up site in Northern Africa, one of the wounded men glanced up at him from below.
He had a familiar face.
"It was one of my friends who used to work with me at William Beaumont Hospital," Craver said. "It was Leo. His fingers had been cut off."
When someone else got in the driver's seat, Craver went back to care for the wounds of the old friend. As a member of the Medical Corps in Northern Africa during World War II, it was a familiar scene for him.
