Robert Lehr “Gummy” Rothermel was born in Gratz, Dauphin County, Pennsylvania, 10 July 1916, the son of Ira “Boucher” Rothermel (1890-1967) and Sarah E. “Sallie” [Lehr] Rothermel (1890-1976). On 10 May 1941 “Gummy” married Hilda “Tooter” Daniels (1917-1997) in Gratz and spent all of his life there, with the exception of the time he served in World War II
When asked to tell of his experiences in the war, he provided the following account of “Life on Guadalcanal.”
On August 13, 1943, I was inducted into the Navy and went to Great Lakes, Illinois for my basic training. After basic training, I came home on leave, and then left for California. We took off from there for the South Pacific where I was stationed on Guadalcanal, the largest of the Solomon Islands.
The temperature was always hot on the island, but it rained every day at some time. Due to the coral soil, the rains dried up quickly.
There wee no towns or villages. So the only place our company of men could go was to the U.S.O., which was about a mile away. While I was stationed there, three U.S.O shows stopped on the island. Jack Benny was one of them, Bob Hope was another; I can’t recall the third one.
John Buffington, a friend of mine from Lykens was stationed on another island called Tulage. This island was about twenty miles from Guadalcanal. One day John came to visit me, and he was also looking for his brother Earl Buffington, who was in the Marines. Earl’s unit had come to our island for a rest period. So, John and I went looking for Earl. It was a long winding road, and on the way we saw a sign listing the names of another company. To our surprise, the sign included the names of these Gratz fellows: Elmer “Jake” Hoffman, Neal Blyler, Wayne Leitzel, and John Peiffer. After spending about an hour with them, John Buffington and I traveled to the Marine Camp to visit his brother Earl.
My most frightening experience, while on the island happened one night after we had gone to bed. At two o’clock in the morning about a mile off shore, a submarine came to our harbor and torpedoed an ammunition ship. It was a direct hit, killing 247 sailors and army personnel. Shrapnel hit our camp, and three pieces hit the Quonset hut I was in. Fourteen buddies and I survived the ordeal. The impact of the hit moved our bunks. One of the schrapnels cut my buddy’s shoes in half besides his bed. The other two hit our lockers. It was a day I will never forger. I was on duty for two weeks, helping to recover bodies and parts of bodies.
After about two year’s over seas, I came back to the States, was discharged from the Navy from Camp Peary, Virginia in October, 1945, and came back to Gratz.
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