by Dave Thornton

The Life of George Chapin, a man of infinite Peace, was bracketed by War.

He was born the fall of 1919, a year after the Armistice of "the World War to End All War".

He grew up just in time to be called to fight in the Second World War.

As he died, the Nation was still licking its wounds from a great, nationally divisive, 16-year struggle in Southeast Asia.

Life began for Gerald George Chapin on the Owl's Kill Valley farm that has been in the family since 1836.

The land straddles Lauderdale Rd. two miles above Cambridge Village, reaching from a high, wooded ridge on the West, across Rte. 22 to the stream that drains the Valley.

George was one of five children raised by Florence and Walter Chapin. He was born at Mary McClellan and attended the Union School (Cambridge High School).

One of the family mementos is a picture of the Class of 1938, gathered on the front steps of the school. George is in the extreme lower right.

Like several other Valley boys of his generation, George meant to graduate from Cornell. But George was a few years younger. Where the others finished their degrees and went into service via the Reserve Officers Training program, George was called while a sophomore. He went on Active duty with the US Army on 27 August 1942, less than a year after Pearl Harbor.

Being a "college man", he was sent to Officers Candidate School. Graduating there, he was sent to North Africa with the 69th Armored Field Artillery.

WAR HISTORY

His family knows little about his war history, aside from the obvious. Years ago, he gave one taped interview to a student working on a class project at CCS. Hopefully, that tape is still on file somewhere.

In November 1942, British and American forces landed at Casablanca in "Operation Torch". It was a very bloody, relatively quick hammer blow against Rommel's Afrika Korps, which, by March, 1943, had driven "the Desert Fox" off the continent.

Several Old Cambridge boys served in that campaign, many with valor. Some were killed. Several others were severely wounded.

George seems to have served without mishap in the African campaign. A letter sent home in late 1943 indicates what everyone around George knew; that he was a quiet man, with a level head and a good sense of humor.

"Have been in North Africa for some time now," he wrote. "And although it was interesting for a time, I can't say that I recommend it as a place to live.

"In fact, I am beginning to wonder why the Germans wanted it so badly."

Later, a letter reached home from "somewhere in Italy". George had survived "Operation Husky", the invasion of Sicily. This involved 3,000 vessels moving 160,000 soldiers, 1,800 artillery pieces and 600 tanks from Africa across the Mediterranean to the large island at the southern tip of the Italian "boot".

It was the Allies' first large-scale invasion of the NAZI-help "Fortress Europe", and it was a success.

By August 17, Sicily was secure and the Allies could push across the Strait of Messina onto the Italian mainland.

On January 22, 1944 George was among 50,000 American and British troops that were landed behind German lines at Anzio Beach.

Not having sufficient armor to take advantage of their surprise invasion, the boys had to go on the defensive. "Waiting," as George put it in his letter home, "For plans to evolve for chasing the Germans up the "boot".

The Germans fought a tenacious delaying action, both on the ground and in the air. The Italian army surrendered early, but their homeland took severe punishment.

"There is absolutely nothing left here but heaps of rubble," he wrote. "Every bridge and culvert has been blown out, buildings are blown down across roads, railway stations, freight cars, etc. have been completely burned or demolished and the areas around them ruined."

The retreating Germans did part of the damage.

"For mile after mile, every single tie in all railroads has been broken in the middle and every single rail has a piece blown out of the center of it with a TNT block.

"High tension towers have been blown down and electric lines and telephone lines are an unsalvageable mass of snarled wire.

"As for water and gas mains in the cities... yes, anything the Germans have passed through will need plenty of reconstructing.

"Things are quiet here and one would never believe that we are at the front. We have an air raid at least twice a day but they are not diving at us and the nearest bomb has been two miles away.

"We (his artillery unit) usually shoot down one a day.

"I feel safer here than on the (Fort) Chaffee artillery range."

But he wasn't.

WOUNDED

On 2 May 1944, George Chapin was the victim of an accidental grenade explosion. It came just before the Allies cracked the German will at Monte Casino and sent them reeling up the boot toward Rome, Pisa and Bologna.

The wound ended his military service and left George permanently disabled. But it did not diminish his life.

For long before he became a soldier, George had met the love of his life, Miss Ethel Scharmann of Pittsfield, Mass. And together, they would build up far more than the errant grenade had torn away.

George's injuries were severe. He was right handed, but would learn to do everything left-handedly, for he lost his right hand.

With the right hand went most of his hearing and the sight from his right eye.

Ten days after his wounding, George dictated a letter to Ethel.

"Ran into an accident several days ago," he wrote. "Got blown from hell to breakfast. The results are tremendous.

"Aside from having a slightly twisted physiognomy, which is temporary, I am also missing my right hand....

"Though flat on my back at the moment, I'm still a long way from being out and it won't be long before I'll be seeing you again, because they can't use one-armed officers in this war.

"Don't know how long it will be before they get me out of here, but there should be some boats going your way.

"I'm sorry, honey, but it couldn't be helped. Love as always, George."

So soon after his wounding, George Chapin was unable to write his own letter to Ethel. He had dictated it to a nurse's aide "somewhere on the Anzio Beachhead".

To the letter, the aide appended the following note:

"May I be permitted to tell you that Lt. Chapin is one of the finest patients it has ever been my privilege to write a letter for?

"His morale and his spirits are so fine and I'd like you to know that he's a wonderful inspiration to the whole ward and to everyone with whom he comes in contact.

"It usually takes a very long painful time for a man to arrive at the point where his outlook is as sound, and as balanced as Lt. Chapin's. He is certainly one of whom you must be very proud.

"Sincerely, Anne Smith Read".