The Military Ex-Prisoners of War Foundation has established a National Scholarship Program for heirs of Ex-POWS, and provided its first six Scholarship Grants totaling $12,000 for these young college students.
            “We hope this is just the beginning,” said President, Paul Dallas.
             In its short history, the Foundation has made several Grants to help fund local Chapters and/or Departments Scholarship programs, but now that our membership is shrinking so rapidly, we will be asking the rest of America to give us a hand. Our next goal is to provide 12 Scholarships for this coming year – But now we want to introduce you to the first six recipients who received our first Scholarships:
           The highlight of the meeting was the approval of six college scholarships for $2,000 each to the following recipients, all heirs of EX-POWs: Jeffrey Herendeen of NY (pre-med), Joseph Coleman of IL (mechanical engineering), Benjamin Newport of NC (business), Kelly Carlsen of CA (physical therapy), Jared Haynie of MO (chemistry), and Randall Simon of AZ (animation/media).
            2007 was the first year the Foundation has been able to implement a scholarship program. The Board increased the scholarship fund for the 2007-2008 year. Anyone who is a descendant of a former military prisoner of war with a GPA of 3.0 or above may apply for a scholarship. 
           For applications, rules and requirements, or any other information please write me, Dorris Livingstone, Military Ex-Prisoners of War Foundation Scholarship Program, 1561 Glen Hollow Lane, S., Dunedin, FL 34698. or send E-Mail: dorris2001@aol.com . All applications must be postmarked no later than April 1, 2008.
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Each of our Scholarship Applicants were asked to write a brief article about their Grandfather’s combat or/and their POW experience…We are inserting a paragraph or two from each article. (Editor: We did not edit any of these articles)  
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 Joseph A. Coleman            Grandson of Arnold A. Koehler

        In reading your request to write about my grandpa’s experience as a prisoner of war, I knew this would be the most difficult challenge in fulfilling all the requirements for this scholarship application.  You see, my grandpa doesn’t talk much about his experience while held captive by the German’s in World War II.  It isn’t that he doesn’t remember the specific details or even that he is bitter or angry about what happened.  It is simply that he can’t talk about it.  Even after almost 62 years, grandpa still is haunted by his memories of what happened.
          Sleep for me, and I think most people, is something we take for granted, but my grandpa hasn’t slept a full night since he was captured.  During the day, grandpa can try to occupy his thoughts and busy himself, but at night when he sleeps, the nightmares come and he wakes drenched in sweat and his heart pounding.  Because of this, I can’t ask him to talk about his experience and knowingly make it worse for him to get some restful sleep.  Believe me, I wish grandpa could sleep as a normal man does and dream of silly things that don’t make much sense instead of reliving horrid events through nightmares night after night.  Grandma tells me that it is especially hard for him to get any sleep around Christmas time, which is the time of year when he was captured.

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Randall Simon                Grandson of Arthur Bloomberg

            In October of 1944, my grandfather was taken to another camp, this time it was a starch factory where they made potatoes into powder to make feed for hogs.  He had to carry heavy bags weighing 220 pounds on his back.  He was there for four months.  By February 1945, German officers came into the factory and told the prisoners they had an hour and a half to get out.  Everyone was fleeing the advancing Russian army.  Six days a week for six weeks, my grandfather walked 600 miles across Germany.  As they were walking the saw German soldiers with horse-drawn wagons pulling their supplies.  Then my grandfather knew the Germans had to be losing the war.  Thousands of people were marching down the road with cows, and horses, and wagons.  My grandfather said it looked like a John Ford epic film.  He watched the Germans burn their own factories so the allies couldn’t get them.  When they arrived at their final destination the prisoners found out that President Roosevelt had died.
            That next morning, my grandfather woke up and heard the other prisoners yelling “They’re gone!”.  Most of the Germans were gone and a German officer gave my grandfather his rifle.  He was surrendering.  The American prisoners took the Germans down the road like they were their prisoners.  In the distance, my grandfather could see the American tanks, at least a hundred of them.  When they saw them, the people in the tanks threw the American prisoners K-rations.  Then, my grandfather saw a group of about thirty to forty Holocaust survivors.  He ran into a bakery and demanded that all of the bread be given to the holocaust survivors.  They took the bread and said nothing.  They were like zombies. 

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Jeffrey Herendeen      Grandson of Lawrence Herendeen

           On December 18, my grandfather left Limburg, and arrived in Muhlenberg, Germany at another camp known as Stalag 4B on December 24, 1944.   However, this switch turned out to be the hardest, and not because of the camp, but the journey itself.  My grandfather and the other prisoners were forced to travel in a box car, packed in like sardines.  There were no toilet facilities on the box car and the Germans would only make one or two stops a day.  The prisoners were required to urinate in a helmet liner and empty it later when they finally got out.  The train they traveled in had Red  Cross Flags on the front, but this didn’t always guarantee protection.  Sometimes the Germans moved munitions with the Red Cross Flags and because of this, there was a possibility that American troops could still advance on the train.  The prisoners were given only a loaf of bread and a little water to drink.  So my grandfather and the other prisoners went the five days with practically nothing to eat.

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 Kelly Carlsen               Granddaughter of Frank V. Hokr

          “After clearing the plane I pulled on my rip cord, but nothing happened.  When I looked at the D-ring in my hand, the wire to the pins was cut short next to the handle.  Throwing off my flight gloves I unsnapped the cover of my chute and fed out the pilot chute by hand.  When the main canopy snapped open it was full of small holes.  Because of the holes in the main chute I was descending rapidly.  I had fallen among a bunch of tall young trees which snagged my chute and softened my fall.  I was still hanging in my chute harness when armed troops captured me.  I was now a POW, somewhere in Czechoslovakia.”
          “My first thought was “Thanks God! I’m still alive!” but as the soldiers aimed their rifles at me, I wondered how long I would survive.  One of the riflemen said, in heavily accented English, “Vell, for you der var is over!”  I had not suffered any injuries during the flak barrages, the fighter attacks or during my bail out.  Now the question was, “What happens next?”
            With rifles pointing at me from several directions, there were no thoughts of escape, just calm.  I had been captured (and) I was led down into some kind of cellar.  A wooden door was slammed shut and I was left in the dark.  Some time later a man opened the door and gave me some greasy soup with a few potatoes and a small piece of ham floating at the bottom.”
                           After being transferred to a POW camp---------------Lastly, this passage, being my favorite and most reflection worthy of my grandfather’s experience as a prisoner of war.
               “I now began to make new friends.  The POWs in my room, I learned, called ourselves “Kriegies” from the German word Kriegesgefangener (prisoner-of-war).  It was a totally different kind of life.  Being behind barbed wire, with machine guns aimed at your every move outside the barracks, made you realize what a precious thing freedom is.  Also how fragile it can be.”

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 Jared Haynie     -     Grandson of Marvin Miller 

            Towards the end of April, the camp knew the war was coming to an end.  Grandpa had endured a 500 mile march and was liberated by the 104^th Timber Wolf Infantry Division.  We appreciate the service of my Grandpa, Marvin Miller, and hope to emulate and fulfill his same passions and loyalty he has.  Of his experience he says. “We have a great nation.  People have fought and died.  I think of my crewmen that didn’t it back.  And I just wish that the younger generation would have the respect for this country, for the flag that we served under, and take into consideration the freedom that we have in this great land.  I’ve had occasion to travel in other foreign countries, and there’s never a place like this great land of America”.

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Ben Newport                                   Grandson of Coy Newport

             My grandpa served our country to the fullest extent he could.  He sacrificed his life for years and even went through the extremities of being a prisoner of war.  Thankfully he lived to tell of his time, and thankfully I knew him long enough to respect what he did for our country first hand from him and not from others telling me about him.  He went through the worst times an American soldier has ever seen and lived to tell about it.  His time in World War II is part of our important American history and I will be telling my kids about it to keep his and our country’s history alive and well.

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 Ed. Note – Sherrie Bieber, another of those “Angels” that the past National Service Officer Director , Steve Yarema,  so appropriately called them, will be leaving us this month. Sheri told us, “My work as an NSO is so important to me, I just can’t find the time for anything else.”
         We will miss her at the Foundation, and at the Times.                 

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