The airfield on the central plain of Martha’s Vineyard is beginning to shape up as something more than raw earth, mud, and the destination of building materials trucked over the roads from the st
Mary Carr, 88, made a journey back to the Vineyard last Friday. The last time she was here, 67 years ago, war raged in Europe and in the Pacific. It was a time in the nation’s history when people all around her made huge sacrifices. In that year, she lost her husband.
For Mary, this two-day Vineyard visit was a rekindling of fond memories. It was also about Memorial Day and loss and sharing her personal story with others.
The password for that drop was George Washington. If you heard a rustling and you didn’t know who was there you would say “George,” and if you received the password “Washington,” then you knew it was your own troopers.
They were Islanders and they served their country in World War II, in all branches of the armed forces, men and women, most of them barely beyond their teens. This weekend the Martha’s Vineyard Museum opens the second part of an ongoing exhibit that features among other things a powerful collection of oral histories from Vineyarders who served in World War II.
Rationing, blackouts, prisoners of war and air raid drills — all were very real facts of life for Islanders during World War II. In an ongoing exhibit the Martha’s Vineyard Museum has captured some of the many recollections of Vineyarders from those years, both at home and abroad. Titled Those Who Serve — Martha’s Vineyard and World War II, the exhibit features oral histories, photographs, film footage and artifacts. The exhibit will be expanded into a second part on Memorial Day weekend.
The Vineyard was a frightening place for a young girl to be during World War II, but exciting too. Servicemen were walking the streets before their deployment to Europe. Navy and Army pilots conducting training exercises overhead occasionally came crashing into the ocean. And there were the constant rumors of enemy spies and submarines along the Island’s shores.
For the sheep grazing in pastures above Vineyard Sound, the patches of weathered canvas beating toward Holmes Hole were barely worth a glance away from meals of September grass. Farmers, townspeople and public officials, however, greeted the approach of some four dozen English-flagged vessels with a bit more alarm.
