Photos: top: Jean and Bob Palmer Jr. bottom: Russell 'Hutch' and Barbara Hutchison
Two
guys met in college at the University
of New Mexico. They hit
it off and became good friends. Russell ‘Hutch’ Hutchison would meet Barbara
and Bob Palmer Jr. would meet Jean. The four of them did everything together.
It was the establishment of a life long friendship that would have some very
defining times that bonded them and their off spring together.
When
WWII was upon them, they with the rest of the nation took it to heart to
protect their country. Bob and Hutch were civil engineers. As Hutch was with
the Corps of Army Engineers he served in the Philippines. Bob joined the Navy
Seabees*.
The
two men served in the Pacific. Their wives, who had become good friends, stayed
in touch, corresponding by letters with them. Barbara and Jean both lived in Albuquerque just blocks
away from each other. Frequently, they got together just to socialize, share
tears, food coupons, victory gardens and meals - even gasoline when it was
available.
Then
one day Barbara received a telex from the State Department that Hutch was
missing in action and was feared to be captured or killed. This was in 1942.
She nor anyone would not learn more until the end of the war. No amount of
inquires from Barbara, her parents, Hutch’s parents could produce any information
about Hutch.
Can
you imagine? Not knowing the fate of your husband for over two years!
The
war went on. The tide turned. With the advance of the allied forces, Bob and
his division of Seabees came, with horrific sacrifices, to all the battle
scenes to rebuild the airstrips, the bridges, the roads and the quarters for
the fighting men.
Bob
would receive letters from Jean back home about life in Albuquerque, about Barbara and ‘no word of
Hutch’.
Fatigue
and exhaustion strained every fiber, tendon and every soul and yet, left the
mind to ponder when it should have been better to rest but could not, would
not. Never! Never let go of life and love and decency. Never! And so, Bob would
be taxed with his love for his best friend and the thought that Barbara was
worried a hundred times more than he – nay, infinitely times more.
The
war was being won. Only in reflection could you look back and discern, yes,
these were decisive victories and that it was suddenly going to be over. On
Okinawa the allied forces readied for assault upon the main islands of Japan.
Russia was pouring into Manchuria suddenly – in eight days annihilating the
entire Western Japanese Imperial Army front with its’ learned blitzkrieg. With Russia poised to invade the islands of Japan
from an unprotected Western front, Truman threw down the gauntlet.
The
war was over.
Bob
walked through the medical facilities on Okinawa.
What needs were to be arranged?
Suddenly
from a group of survivors from the Bataan Death March, someone called out,
“Bob!”, in a weak voice, barely audible. Bob turned around and looked at the
group of Americans. He looked into each skeletal face, each pair of sunken
eyes. He did not recognize anyone. Was it his imagination? Maybe the person had
called to someone else. Standing there scanning the faces, once again he hears,
“Bob, it’s me!”
Bob
steps forward looking at the unrecognizable features of a tortured skeleton
among many other tortured skeletons, “Yes”, he says, “Who are you? Do I know
you?”
“Bob,
it’s me. Hutch.”
With
unbelieving eyes, his soul discerns the voice. Bob steps forward. He kneels
next to this soul and takes Hutch’s hand in his. Holds it. Looks deeply into
his eyes and cries. He leans forward and embraces Hutch. Tears come to Hutch’s
eyes in joy and gratitude in seeing his best friend for the first time in
years.
Releasing
each other from their embrace, Bob leans back and says, “I’ve got to call Jean
and tell her. She’ll go over and tell Barbara. Barb, as you can well imagine,
is living day to day, waiting.”
…
Bruce Hutchison, Hutch’s son, is the godson of Bob Palmer Jr.
Happy
Father’s day!
* Seabees
were the Navy and Marine division’s engineers – roads, airfields, bridges, etc.
Wow....that is an amazing story. I just stumbled on this blog while hitting "next blog" on top, and usually just scan and move on. Yours, however, made me stop and pause long enough to read it. This is powerful history here. Amazing.
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