New book tells story of a generation

THE PRINCETON CLASS OF 1942 DURING WORLD WAR II, The Individual Stories

Ed. by Charles B. Blackmar, The Class of 1942, Princeton University, $42 (595p)

The Class of 1942 presents a collection of their individual stories during World War II: intense reminiscences of honor, innocence lost and outstanding resistance amid extreme confusion and chaos.

"As the Princeton Class of 1942 gathered in Alexander Hall for its initial orientation meeting, the media were reporting international tensions of increasingly grave concern.

"Only a few of us thought, however, that our first substantial employment would be in uniform," writes Charles B. Blackmar, the editor of "The Princeton Class of 1942 During World War II: The Individual Stories."

The book is more than a historical project. Focusing on the theme of intensity of war, the individual stories provide an overall account of lives changing overnight and of individuals striving to make this transition as flawlessly as possible.

Some of them enlist before graduation; some do not even have the chance to complete their studies.Being directed by the uncertainty of what comes next, all of them accept their assigned roles and do what is expected of them.

The class ends up with 25 lost lives, seven prisoners of war, badly wounded and permanently disabled classmates, numerous medals and memories of intense moments.

These are the stories of America's best-educated individuals: some eager to serve for the cause, some just holding on to some cause to survive the most severe war of all times.

Geoffrey M.T. Jones, for example, a class member who had been brought up in France, volunteers for special duty with the Office of Strategic Services. He gets involved in top-secret planning and has quite exciting and dangerous experiences as a secret agent in France.

His love for the cause is so apparent by his words. "I carried a poison pill to swallow in the event of capture," Jones says. "In those days the Germans already had drugs that could make anybody spill their secrets. I couldn't take that chance. There were too many lives at stake!"

Another class member, Roland C. Shaw, volunteers to join the Army Air Corps after being thrown out of Princeton twice and suffering from delayed adolescence. After a successful combat experience, he is assigned to be an instructor pilot at North Carolina.

"After some weeks of trying to train students, I told my commandment that I had not survived the South Pacific to get killed by students and could I please be transferred back to combat," he says.

He was perhaps unaware that many of his classmates in the heat of war in Europe would have given everything they had for a position like his.

Each story told by a class member, or sometimes told by someone dear to him, covers a period of three or four years, usually starting with basic training in Princeton Reserve Officer Training Corps and typically ending with an endless journey home.

While the mere thought of returning safe and sane is what keeps them standing, they cannot avoid the painful effects of the intense moments inscribed in their minds.

"There is no such thing as 'The War Years'; they can't be dusted off like some record album and stored away from the rest of my life," says Charles E. Crandall. "There is nothing heroic or romantic about war; it is something to be avoided at all cost unless there is truly no option left."

Having left an "indelible imprint" on his soul, Crandall's days in war are marked by the deaths of many close friends and comrades, leaving him even today with feelings that are in his words "terribly raw."

The way he describes the battlefield explicitly reflects every social study made on the nature of the psychology of soldiers in war.

"Fear was always a strong presence on the battlefield," he says, "but the urge of not wanting to let the other guys down was even a stronger force and kept most of us from turning tail."

This is a psychology that allows continuous struggle for survival, no matter if a good friend is "blown right out of his shoes and left standing next to [you] on his fractured legs with no feet," he says.

The book covers real stories of other class members who get trapped in a ship after a Japanese kamikaze attack. They have to land their aircraft on water or have to parachute out after getting hit.

There are also passages from diaries they kept, in which little signs of humor still exist. Letters they sent during the war include words of honor and pride. There are interviews they gave after many years of not uttering a word about what they had gone through.

And there are also those who are immortalized as heroes, such as Eric Wood.

While three gun sections of Wood's battery withdraw from heavy German attack, Wood remains behind in an effort to get a howitzer on the road. This effort is short-lived as German troops force him to surrender.

Despite heavy fire in his direction, Wood escapes by running into the woods and is found dead days later. A monument now stands on the exact spot where he died, built by the people of the village he was defending.

In January 1990, two handwritten notes were found at the base of the monument:

"Some died for misguided nationalism and a madman's twisted vision. Others died for the freedom We still enjoy today. May we all work together For a world at peace And for harmony among men."

Reading this note again and again, trying to figure out why so many people risked their lives and would surely not hesitate to do the same thing should another cause arise, we come face to face with a statement that is worth thinking over.

To purchase a copy of the 1942 book, send a $42 check made out to "Princeton 42 book" to: Princeton 42 Book, c/o Tex Farrington, 9 Baynard Peninsula, Hilton Head, S.C. 29928.