One Catholic Priest and Dominos (Greatest Generation Series) (March Edition)

            “Eddie, you would better benefit the world by quitting school and getting a job.”  Thus, the dominos began to fall in young Edwin J. Liedike’s life.  Seventeen years old and just beginning Catholic High School in Philadelphia, the priest did not see young Eddie going any place while in school.

            December 12, 1944 and Edwin (Eddie) is headed for Camp McClellan, Alabama for Basic Training.  This is the next domino to fall for Edwin, from Pike street in Philadelphia, when he was drafted.

            I sat comfortably in the living room of their ranch home, nestled in the woods of Montgomery County.  A two-decked organ set in the corner.  “He likes to play,” says his wife, Joan, sitting to my right.  “He also plays the drums,” she continued.  This beautiful home had burnt down in 1987, just after the home was built in 1986.

            I turned the conversation to who they were and more specifically who is Edwin Liedike?  He freely spoke to me about his brief stint in the US Army.

            After leaving his 17 week long basic training, he found himself at an embarkation point in Virginia.  “Mothers of America stopped that,” he says, “Too many boys dying,” continued Edwin, who sat in front of me.

            As the dominos continued to fall, he found himself next at Camp Howese in Texas.  A temporary Army camp where he now learned the use of the flame thrower, which he described with a chuckle as singeing his eyebrows.  The conversation was effortless as we smiled at each other.  A box of letters he wrote to his mother sat in a black shoe box in front of him now, as he accessed them for information.

            Embarking from Fort Ord, he got word that the war in Japan was over while on a navy ship.  This sigh of relief was short lived as he found himself in the Philippines.  He witnessed one shot, which rung out over head striking high on a vehicle in front of him.  It was a Japanese soldier, one of the 10,000 who had not gotten the word that the war was over.

            “There were so many soldiers in the Philippines that they didn’t know what to do,” he described the scene.  He continued to tell me, “I went to the lieutenant and asked to go to Japan, part of the occupation army.”

            After seven weeks, Staff Sergeant Liedike (a tech T sergeant) found himself in Japan in charge of publications and field manuals.  One month shy of two years, twenty three months in service ended.  So did the smile as he looked introspective.

            “Edwin’s brother served in the Army,” his wife began while looking at him.

            “Bob was both in the invasion of Europe and Battle of the Bulge,” Edwin continued.  I asked and he told me that he was with the 28^TH ID (infantry division) of the Pennsylvania National Guard during Battle of the Bulge.  “He married a French girl,” he continued.  They both had also passed in the past two years, I learned, as he looked solemn.

            He met Joan at a doggy roast he said.  “We would bring 6 hot dogs and a case of beer,” he smiled as he clarified what a doggy roast was.  Joan had just graduated from high school.

            “He was twenty two, I was eighteen,” she added.

            After a couple of short jobs, post-war, Edwin was led to a job with Sears, Roebuck & Co., where he opened catalogue sales offices.  He remained with them until retirement at 59 years old.  When he left, he was doing interior design for new Sears stores.

            At the ages of 87 and 83, Edwin and Joan have been married for 63 years.  They have four children, “One girl, then a boy, and then two more girls,” Joan told me.  They also have ten grandchildren and three great-grandchildren.  Eddie took some pride in telling me that he played drums in a small band called Eddie and the Flying Saucers.  “We played fifties,” he added.

            I looked around toward the end of our interview.  I was moved by what one Catholic Priest and dominos started.  I told them it brought you to right here.  He smiled and shook his head affirmatively.  As I was leaving, he asked me to remember his brother, Bob, in my writing.

            Bob, we honor you and what you also gave to our country.  We honor you for what you stood for in your family in life and afterwards.

            As I walked out the front door, I turned back and looked at the ranch house in the woods, and smelled wood burning from a fireplace nearby.  I pictured a domino standing outside the front door, leading to many more, ending with three great-grandchildren & the new set of dominos and again thought of one, Catholic priest.