Rally ’round the flag, boys and girls
On this Fourth of July week, my pick for Hero of the Republic is the indefatigable Rose Brady and the women of the Connellsville Canteen. Their service during World War II remains a shining example of patriotism, perseverance and good old-fashioned pluck.
Working out of an abandoned foundry building on Water Street, the 500 women volunteers of the canteen met every Connellsville-bound troop train and every passenger train with military personnel on board at the city’s nearby B&O train station. Light refreshments, smiles, and good cheer were served.
At a time when rail was the accustomed mode of transportation, there were quite a few trains to meet. During its two-plus years in operation, the canteen served more than 500,000 sandwiches and equivalent amounts of coffee, doughnuts, oranges and other items, including cigarettes.
(The World War II generation gorged itself on tobacco. The military during the war passed out 350 billion cigarettes. The fact that tobacco-use has plummeted in the years since is one way, at least, the country is better off.)
The number of soldiers, sailors, and Marines served was extraordinary. Between Jan. 1 and Feb. 1, 1945, for example, the women of the canteen passed out 29,283 sandwiches. On March 29, 1946, nearly a year after the end of the war in Europe, the volunteers were still at it, handing out 267 cups of coffee and 126 doughnuts.
Their devotion to duty warmed many hearts, touched many lives. Writing from war-ravaged Italy in September 1944, one American soldier wrote a letter to the canteen in which he described the elation on board his troop train as it pulled to a stop in Connellsville. He and his fellow soldiers knew they would be well-cared for, he said.
A grateful serviceman wrote on April 11, 1944, “We appreciate your coffee, sandwiches, cigarettes, and milk. … Our password is ‘Remember Connellsville.'”
Sgt. Howard P. Rankin wrote that Connellsville was “the only 24-hour Canteen I’ve seen.”
Another soldier, Michael Frenchak, wrote twice, both times from overseas. On July 9, 1944, briefly, “Maybe we’ll meet again – Bless you all.” On Oct. 27, 1944, a little longer, “All of us remember such places as your Canteen. Thank you for being there when a tired GI needs a hand. Thank you, people of Connellsville.”
Many years ago when I first researched the story of the canteen, I had the honor of meeting a few of the volunteers themselves.
One of these was Sally Richter. Born in Connellsville, Sally eventually moved with her husband and children to Grindstone. The family returned to Connellsville in the summer of 1943, following the death of Sally’s son Jack in North African combat.
Sally could not live in the house in Grindstone, with its memories of Jack. She could not bring Jack back. She could volunteer at the canteen, however. It was an imperfect substitute, of course; but it sufficed for a time. It was busy-work; it was catharsis. During World War II, nearly everyone had a job to do. The Connellsville Canteen was Sally’s.
It was Dorothy Keagy who told me, “You volunteered, you did something” for the war effort.
Rita Smyth did her part. She volunteered at the canteen and also for the Motor Corps, another Rose Brady creation, which ferried otherwise stranded local servicemen to their homes late at night.
Rita introduced me to the story of Bobby Burns, a 19-year old Connellsville lad who was killed in combat in Italy in the spring of 1944. Bobby and Rita’s brother Jimmy were best friends. A graduate of Connellsville High School two years before his passing, Bobby was one of hundreds of local men who left for the service from the B&O station, following an emotional parting with friends and family.
Bobby’s death brought home to Rita the harsh reality of the war. It also spurred her to greater heights of volunteerism.
Canteen leader Rose Brady had several passions, including Notre Dame football and antique furniture. The mother of seven children, she was married to insurance man and Fayette County prothonotary John Brady.
Before launching the canteen, Rose planned it out with her brother, Catholic priest Frances Bailey. She spent countless hours organizing the canteen, and then worked hard for its success. Her organizational skills were prodigious.
The enterprise Brady shaped burns as brightly today as it did nearly 80 years ago. The glow of the fire she set should be a lesson in service to our country for all of us.
Richard Robbins can be reached at dick.l.robbins@gmail.com. He writes about the Canteen in his book “Grand Salute: Stories of the World War II Generation” available at Amazon Books.