The Moth - Veterans Day: Scott Young & Tom Sitter

Episode Date: November 11, 2021

This week, two stories honoring Veterans, and a can’t-miss interview with 98-year-old WWII Vet Tom Sitter. This episode is hosted by Jon Goode. To see the extras for this episode, head to our website: themoth.org/extras Hosted by: Jon Goode Storytellers: Scott Young & Tom Sitter

Attention Houston! You have listened to our podcast and our radio hour, but did you know the Moth has live storytelling events at Wearhouse Live? The Moth has opened Mike's storytelling competitions called Story Slams that are open to anyone with a five-minute story to share on the night's theme. Upcoming themes include love hurts, stakes, clean, and pride. GoodLamoth.org forward slashordSlashHuston to experience a live show near you. That's theMoth.org-FordSlashHuston. Welcome to The Moth Podcast. I'm John Good, your host for this week. Originally coined as Armistice Day by President Woodrow Wilson in 1919, The point is armistice day by President Woodrow Wilson in 1919, the day we now hold his veterans day is a day that elevates and celebrates those who stood up post around the world in

defensive freedom. Every year, on November the 11th, we remember and honor their commitment, service and sacrifice. Our first story this week comes from Scott Young. Scott told this story at a grand slam in London, where the theme of the night was lost and found. Here's Scott, live at the mouth. APPLAUSE If I'm complimented at all on my physical appearance, it's usually one of two things.

My thick, full beard or my beefy muscular legs. I get both from my mother. She's only five, but she is built thick and has a her suiteness many men would envy. I grew up to the accurate smell of the wax she boiled mornings to remove the whiskers from her chin. Yet all I ever heard growing up was just like your father. Now I knew that wasn't physical because my dad six four and had a baby smooth face and as my mother liked to say had to run around in the shower to get wet, he was so skinny. Not the jeans I got.

So what was it about me that made me like my father? It's hard being compared to a ghost. See, my father died fighting in the Vietnam War when I was only two. He was 21 and he had a choice. He could get released from active duty one month early or he could spend a week on leave in Hawaii with my mother and I.

He chose to get out of active duty early. He died a war hero, killed by mortar fire, rescuing injured soldiers on the week he would have been in Hawaii with us. On my mother's birthday. If you wrote it as fiction your editor would cut it because it's not believable, but it's my life. My father was drafted because he quit his job, left my mother and I and took off to San Francisco for what he hoped to be the second summer of love. I can hardly blame him for that. He came back with a draft notice and said he was against the war

and he wanted to ditch the draft and for my mom and I to run away to Canada with it. My mother said no. My mother said be a man and fight for your country. Her regret is deep. Now when kids would ask me about my father and I'd say he died in the war, they'd always say, I'm sorry, and I'd say, don't be, I never knew him. I was super defensive and I was, I resented their pity, but I was, you know,

I was angry and I didn't know why, so I just sort of buried those feelings. I did know that the Vietnam War veterans didn't get any parades. Nobody spoke with pride of serving in the One War America lost. And nobody back then honored my mother, and I, by calling us a gold star family. The Vietnam War was a mistake. It was an embarrassment.

And there was no space for me to be proud of my father, this war hero, so I wasn't. I was 24 when I decided to go to Bill Clinton's inauguration, kind of little assamely idea. And I was bullied by his win, hopeful for the future. And I wanted to see this monument that they'd built for the Vietnam War veterans, and I knew my dad's name was on,

and I didn't want to make a big deal out of it, so I purposely decided I wouldn't choose which day I would go there. So it was the third day I was there, and I found myself standing on those steps of the Lincoln Memorial looking down at the black gash of granite and decided it was time. And when you enter, you can give them the name of a person and they'll print out a piece

of paper that shows you the location so you can find it. And I couldn't believe what the paper said. It said Ronald L. Young, born January 19th. it was January 19th. He died when I was two. We never celebrated his birthday. The only birthday I thought of with my dad really was my mother's. The day he died, which was always a miserable experience, but still, I randomly decided to go that day.

I found my father's name on the wall. I randomly decided to go that day. I found my father's name on the wall. I ran my fingers over the etching, facing the high black gloss of the Vietnam War memorial is like seeing yourself through a mirror darkly. All of the complicated feelings around the Vietnam War are embodied. In the monument designed by Myelin, it is a splendid visual metaphor. I could see the Washington monument proud reflected as though through a bleak haze. And I reflected for the first time in my life on my own loss.

Standing there in the sea of flowers, a mementos notes, American flags of all sizes, burning candles everywhere at my feet, I was overwhelmed. I suddenly realized, you know, all those times people said, sorry, and I said, don't be I never knew him, was exactly why they were sorry. And why I was so sorry now. I wept. A stranger came up to me and put their arm around me while I cried. When I finally looked, I was stunned to see it was just a young girl, too young to be

the daughter of anyone on the wall. She bared witness to my grief. We didn't speak. We didn't have to. I've now lived 30 more years than my father did. I never fought in a war, and I don't think I'm anybody's hero, but people still say, well, honestly, mostly my mother, you're just like your father. And now, now that makes me proud.

Thank you. That was Scott Young. Scott has always been a storyteller. From spinning fantastical tales on the playground, to publishing articles about LA Nightlife, to creating marketing narratives as a creative director, Scott believes that we find life's meaning through story. To see some photos of Scott's family and of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, head to our website, the moth.org slash extras. Our next story teller is Tom Sitter. Tom told this story at a story slam in Madison,

where the theme of the night was karma. Be sure to stick around after the applause to hear a one-of-a-kind conversation that I had with Tom, veteran to veteran. Here's Tom, live at the mall. Thank you. Hi, my name is Tom Sitter, 93 years old, and so breathing. Now, during World War II, I found myself in France. Now, the Battle of the Bulge had started in December of that year and continued through January. We got there, it was pretty much over, but we were, I was in a medical battalion, and

we had to clean up pretty much. We carried bodies and parts of bodies and prisoners to station hospitals into the eight cents. Now, over there, we ran into our arch enemies, the ninth armored division. These guys were all tankers, and they were mean. And we had all both trained in Kansas during the near Fort Riley during World War II. And I was in the cavalry at the time.

We had these great uniform boots and breeches, and they really turned a lot of heads, and we knew it. We were pretty cocky. Anyway, we go into town, and when the tankers would be there, oh, by the way, in 42, they still had horse cavalry down in Fort Riley, in addition to the mechanized cavalry. So when we go into town of Tankers being these bars, they come and we'd come walking in and they'd say, I smell horse shit. The twenty nights must be here. And we gave as good as we got.

As a result, there were a lot of fights going on, a lot of, a lot of them. And we'll go to instigate fights. We'd sing a cavalry song, bear with me. I would say the cavalry, the cavalry, with dirt behind their ears, the cavalry, the cavalry. They drink up all the beers, the infantry and tankers and the Corps of Engineers. They couldn't whip the cavalry in 100,000 years.

That created quite a... Thank you. Thank you. That created a lot of fights to them. Anyways, when we got over to Europe, we ran into the Ninth Army Division. I'll tell you how. When we first landed in the 20th Army Division,

12,000 men, tanks and armored cars and jeeps and everything else. The first thing they did when we landed in France was to break us up into segments and they put us with the first, the third and the ninth army. So we were part of the ninth army and up near the, up near the Rhine. We were next to the British and Canadian troops. And during that time, we did ambulance studies and moved, moved, wounded and dead. But we noticed when we got up to close to the Rhine,

our heart sank. We knew, first of all, the Germans, when they retreated after the bomb, they blew up bridges all the way. And we knew that when we got to the Rhine. They blew up bridges all the way. We knew that when we got to the Rhine, we saw that immense body of water. We knew our heart sank. We knew we were going to have to cross it, probably in rubber rafts or tiny boats. So we didn't look forward to that. My rosary got a pretty good workout during that time. Anyway, finally, this was in by now was February of 1945.

Now the Rhine River started as a trickle in the Swiss Alps and when it goes northeast to be flowing into the North Sea, it becomes a huge river. You know, hundreds of yards across and we just were frightened at the thought of crossing this. By early March, we had good news. Someone had captured a bridge at Ramaghan. It was a railway trussel bridge. And it was captured by our old arch enemies, the Ninth Armored Division. Great guys. So anyway, we finally, we reunited the 20th Armored Division,

finally went to the point where we were gonna cross. Now, the Ninth Armored Division had fought terribly hard to win that. The Germans tried to blow up the Trestle Bridge and what happened, and some of the charges for some reason got only known as they didn't go off. So the Ninth Army had to go into that Treskel, crown under fire, and to cut wire, cut wires, remove charges that didn't detonate. At any moment, they thought the thing would go up into their face.

And then at the top of it, the bridge note was intact, but it was tilted and very shaky. You couldn't get a vehicle across there. So the Daint Armor dismounted had crawl under fire, went across that bridge one at a time under fire, and it savaged the bridge head on the other side of the river. And they held that bridge head, those lucky solos, so it was held that bridge long enough for pontoon bridges to be built, where we were. those lucky so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so- were for tanks and trucks. But as we got onto this pontoon, I can tell it was shaky. We were swaying from side to side and dipping and everything else. And the water was choppy and the water was black and it was cold. It was in March. And we knew that we made one mistake that ambulance was going to

go into the water with us in it. And in doing so, we're going to wreck that pontoon bridge, which means that if we survived the water floating downstream, our own troops would have been shooting at us. And who were waiting across the bridge, of course. Well, we finally got across the bridge. We went over and on the other side of the bridge, we reunited. And the 20th Army Division was attached

to the second, the 7th Army. And we swept through Germany, and now we went through a long manheim in Augsburg and South and East, and finally got to Dechau. Now that's another story along the way. And we got to Munich, and finally we crossed the river and got into the veria. As we headed towards the Austrian border, we almost reached it on May 7, 1945.

And the war ended. Now, yesterday was May 7. And I mean, talk about 72 years. And to just say I'm here, Ta-Tel and that story, because I wouldn't be here, had it not been for those incredible bravery of those glorious bastards, the Ninthor Division. Let's hear it for Tom Sitter. Tom was born on August 16, 1923 in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. He's a retired building and fire inspector in World War II combat medic who served in the European Ryan Land and Central Europe campaigns.

In his 40 month army service, he was a motorcyclist both the mechanized Calvary and military police, a medic, bugler, boxer, and litter bearer. Litter bearer is not what it sounds like. In this instance, litter means stretcher. Tom currently resides in Madison, Wisconsin. In the conversation you're about to hear, it is my distinct honor and privilege to speak with Tom about his life and service in the Army. Hello, this is John. Is this Mr. Tom Sitter? It's the same, yes. Fantastic. It is an honor and a pleasure to have this conversation with you.

First off, as always, I'd like to thank you for your service, for all that you've done for this country and for us. I myself, I was in the Marine Corps, I'm doing the first desert stone. And guys like you definitely like paved the way for guys like me to come along and just follow in your footsteps. You were a very young man when you joined the army,

like 20 years old, is that correct? I just turned, yeah, I just turned 19. Just turned 19? 1942, yeah. Wow. So what inspired you to enlist? I had a Hollywood version of what the war was all about, you know, as I had no idea what of what the war was all about.

You know, I had no idea what war and it was really like, but we all filled with enthusiasm on those days, young guys. Right. So once you got in and got enlisted and did boot camp and went over, how did that change you as a person? Like once you saw what war really was, how did that, I guess, inform these formative years of yours? Well, over a long period of time, it made me a pacifist.

And abhorred war. I wasn't so after, well, after I'd been in combat for a while and then I lost my very best friend of Roy Sanders who was killed with 36 infantry. I gradually, it wasn't a sudden thing. It was like over the years. I just thought that war was so useless. Nobody really wins in a war. What's one of your most vivid memories from your combat days? Our division was one of two that liberated that cowl, the concentration camp, and that is something I will never, never, ever forget. It was just mind twisting to see people treated like that.

Well, on May 7, 1945, when Germany surrendered, with all you had been through, like, how did that feel to you? Do you remember that day? Yeah, I tell you. For one thing, the war was winding down. We knew the last week or so of the war. There was hardly any resistance at all. Germans were coming out of the woods with their hands up, hundreds and hundreds of Germans trying to surrender. It had to be very careful. Some of them would come out of the woods and get shot.

Oh, well. When you heard they surrendered, you knew ahead of time, but when you got the official word, was it just thoughts of like, oh, well, we're heading home now? Yeah, we were down in Bavaria, very close to the Austrian border in Berkdisgarten, which was Hipper's mountain retreat. I had the privilege of going through that place too. That was really something to never forget. We were going through, we got everybody who was on the road. See, everybody

assumed that Hitler was hiding down there. When the war was ending, we were on a race after we left that cow to get to Berkshire's garden to capture Hitler and Martin Bournemon. Oh wow, okay. The French were also headed in that direction and a hundred and first airborne. A hundred andst airborne got there first. So they took over the Berkshire and so when we got there, we were swarming through the place like a bunch of locusts trying to get souvenirs. I didn't pick up a couple, but anyway. I heard a couple guys, hey, sitters, sitters, come in here.

I walked in this big bathroom. It was the largest bathroom and we assumed it was settlers. And they're both taking a leak into the bathtub and I went with them. So I want to be known as somebody that pisses and hittores past stuff. Listen, I think you should get business cards and that should be. Yeah, I thought they had the show on two years ago.

I've got a secret. I think it's on that show. They never guess in a million years what I did. Oh. So, after you, you know, after your enlistment, it over, after you got out of the army, how was your adjustment back to civilian life? We got back, I hear millions and millions of young guys looking for job jobs are really hard to find.

And you didn't have much choice, but we got out early enough in January of 1945. And the bulk of the guys getting discharged were still in service. So we got ahead of a lot of guys, but we were unskilled. We had to take whatever job was offered, but I was struggling along with a lot of other guys. The skills that we learned in service were not helpful. All right. So now, you know, at the age of 98 years young, having, you know, lived through World War II and having served and having seen everything that's come since all the other

wars, what advice do you have for like the younger generation or the world at large today? Oh, boy, probably all the things that my mother taught me try to be honest. It's never never lie to yourself. Uh, it's, uh, many of us have done that. We've done things ever wrong. We can't be lied to ourselves to do it. Keep people like you would treat themselves. And, um, I've learned to take big a tree.

I don't, I don't have much hate for a thing, but a lot of disgust for people that are bigotry. Which is something because, you know, World War II, I mean, part of what said the root of that war is bigotry. You know, at the root of bigotry is ignorance, and then, you know, once you're around a group of people and you get to know them, then you're like, oh, wow, most of what I've been told is in true. Yeah. And, you know, in the military, they would always say, you know, we're all the same in a fox hole.

There is no black, no white. We're just, we're in here together trying to push toward the same goal. And speaking of goals, I heard that a few years back, you won the story slam in the Madison. Yeah, I won. Fantastic. That's the best experience. I'm bragging now, but I was probably the first one to ever get a gem. Oh, I love it. I love it.

You should put that on your business card. You're a native in Hitler's tub and the first person to get a 10, the Madison story slam. Well, Tom, thank you so much for your time today. We greatly appreciate it. It was nice talking to you. All right, bye bye. I always eat. Shit.

To see some photos of Tom, hit to our website, themoth.org slash extras. That's all for this episode. From all of us here at the Mouth, have a story worthy, weak. John Good is an Emmy-nominated writer raised in Richmond, Virginia, and currently residing in Atlanta, Georgia. John's work has been featured on CNN's Black and America, HBO's Deaf Poetry Jam, and TV Ones vs. Inflow. He has written a collection of poetry and short stories entitled Conduit and a novel entitled Midas.

John is a fellow of Air Sarah and Bee and current host of The Moth Atlanta. This episode of The Moth Podcast was produced by Sarah Austin Janess, Sarah Jane Johnson, Julia Purcell and me, Davie Sumner. The rest of The Moth's leadership team includes Katherine Burns, Sarah Hab Johnson, Julia Purcell, and me, Davie Sumner. The rest of the Moss Leadership team includes Katherine Burns, Sarah Habermann, Jennifer Hickson, Meg Bulls, Kate Tellers, Jennifer Birmingham, Marina Clucche, Suzanne Rust, Brandon Grant, Inga Gladowski, and Aldi Casza.

All Moth stories are true as remembered by Storytellers. For more about our podcast, information on pitching your own story and everything else, visit our website, themoth.org. The Moth Podcast is presented by PRX, the public radio exchange, helping make public radio more public at prx.org.

Thank you.