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Andy Landforce Oral History Interviews

May 2013 - October 2015 – 11:00a.m.

Video: “Military Training and the Racial Divide During World War II” . June 28, 2013

Location: Veteran's Lounge, Memorial Union, Oregon State University.
Interviewer:  Mike Dicianna

0:47:58 - Abstract | Biography | Download Transcript (PDF)


Mike Dicianna: Today is our second session of interview with Andrew S. Landforce, Andy Landforce. It is June 28th, 2013. We are conducting this interview in the Veterans Lounge of the classic Memorial Union Building on Oregon State University campus. Present are Andy Landforce, our narrator; his daughter Debora Landforce. My name is Mike Dicianna. I am an oral historian with OSU Special Collections, and I am assisted today by Adam Lamascus, a colleague and oral historian also from OSU Special Collections. So now we've got the official things out of the way.

Today I would like to get as much into your experiences during World War II as we can, and it's all up to you, as far as where we go with this. But what I'd like to do is kind of take it as your path through the war. And let's go ahead and start with your graduation, and commissioning as a second lieutenant in the US Army, right here at Oregon State College in June of 1942. When you graduated, you were one of the—you were the first class of graduates from the ROTC program during the war. And OSU became known as the West Point of the West. But you led this. What were your feelings as you got that commission, and you graduated, in the sense of, the nation was at war?

Andy Landforce: My opinion started out when I entered Oregon State College. It was required that you take ROTC, and my attitude was, and the family attitude was that I did not want to join the ROTC program. And when I graduated with a second lieutenant commission, and the war was going on, I said, "Wow! One more time I lucked out in requiring me to do what I ought to do. Because as an officer, I'm hoping that I won't be digging ditches for the Army." And we had pride in the fact that we were officers, and many of us feel like we earned it—earned it on this regard: when you don't want to something, and you do it because you have to, it takes discipline to apply yourself, and say, forget about whether you like it or not, just do it. You're supposed to, that's just what you ought to do.

And so, the war then changed everything, because I went to college with the main purpose of getting away from common labor, and here I'm going into the service. I didn't pay my way, earn my way, and pay my—and earn that to go to war. I was probably the most disappointed person, student, because I didn't want to go to war. Don't believe in it then; still don't believe in it now. After experiencing war, I have an opinion that I can't bury. I don't like it when Oregon State College, University, plays the University of Oregon, and they call it a civil war. Don't people know what war is? There ought to be a better way to describe the rivalry.

So, I then took a look at—what's the future? And the future is, as an officer, what you are capable of doing, the decisions you make may save lives. You are going to study hard to do it right. And so that's the same principle I've used all my life: you work as hard as you can, do the best you can, and cope with the rest.

MD: That's great. Now in July, I understand, of 1942, you entered officers' training school at Camp Roberts in California, northern California. And I understand that you had kind of an interesting tent-mate, Will Rogers Jr. What's the story about him?

AL: [0:05:00] Yes. We went—that was on July the 14th, 1942, that I went to Camp Roberts, and Will became my roommate, and when I found out he was Will Rogers' son, first thing is our family really enjoyed Will Rogers, with his humor, and his philosophy, and everything. His son was a spitting image of his dad—interested in politics, a very intelligent person, clean-cut in morals and attitude, and left you with a feeling, this guy's got quality. And so I got a good start, in starting to admire the men that are selected to go into the service.

MD: Interesting people that you run into throughout your life. Now, I understand in September, you were transferred to Fort Sill, Oklahoma, for advanced artillery training, and I understand you were able to be trained on some of the big Howitzers, But it also said that you—after the rest of your class shipped out, you were put in charge of training in the motor pool, motors and motor maintenance. How did you get that job? Did you have experience, that they put you in that job?

AL: I was one of the graduates in that class, of those 155 Howitzers, and I got the assignment, and I don't know why. I don't think I was an outstanding student, except maybe I had a little better luck in field firing. Because of being a farm boy, I knew when there was a long explosion or shorter explosion, because in the artillery, you shoot one that is short and one that is long, and to go into a fire effect on the third round. The whole battalion shoots. And since I walked over the fields, and so on, I think I had better luck in saying it's long or short, and calling for—maybe. So, I lucked out again.

MD: [Laughs] Now, we have got a little bit of this information on the last—with our last session, but tell us again the story about your wedding at Fort Sill, in Oklahoma, to your wife Evelyn.

AL: Well, thank you. This is a favorite subject. When I'm back there, I met Evelyn at Oregon State, and in this room here, I got acquainted—or in this building, we used to have nickel dances down at the main auditorium. And that's where I developed a friendship, close enough to where we hiked up Bald Hill on Sunday afternoon. I'm back in Fort Sill, and she was the finest girl that I had talked to, visited to, and kicked the leaves around. It cost five cents for a glass of Coke in those days, and I didn't have five cents. So the girls I went with were willing to walk. And so they had closing hours, and I lived over here in Associated Men's Halls at Poling Hall, and she lived in Waldo Hall. I'd call her up, and we'd go for a walk about 20 minutes before closing time.

And so I'm back there, and I write her a letter and ask her if she would marry me. She came back to Fort Sill, Oklahoma. I arranged for Major Lively to be our minister at the Historic Fort Sill Cottage, stone cottage, a beautiful place, and because I had about 20 of my classmates from Oregon State here. Then I got Mel Cummings, Lieutenant Cummings to be—and his wife. His wife Alice was my best—was Evelyn's flower girl—no, bridesmaid. So we got—she came back. She took the train and came back, and we lived in a lot in Oklahoma for the three months that I was there, and we got acquainted. [Laughs] It has lasted for 69 years, married..

MD: Yeah. [Laughs] So after your training at Fort Sill, I understand you were assigned at the 275th Field Artillery Battalion, and that was also in Camp Phillips, Kansas. And after that period of time, you were—this is such an interesting story—you were transferred to the Army Air Corps, to a unit that trained sled dogs for rescue of downed pilots and downed equipment. [0:10:06] So you went to Montana, and tell me—tell us more about that whole experience, and what that—and how did you get that job?

AL: Yes. This was another moment in my life that we treasure, in that we're the 275th Field Artillery Battalion, training to go overseas, and we came to a time, oh my gosh, when I think about it, one more time Evelyn and I went through, where we changed the beneficiary on my life insurance to her. And right at the last minute, I got orders to leave the 275th Field Artillery Battalion, and report to the War Dog Reception and Training Center, Camp Rimini, Montana, into the Air Corps. The assignment was to turn out 55 dog teams with ten dogs to a team.

The justification for that operation was that if we would save one bomb site, on a bomber that was going over the Arctic, it would pay for the whole operation. And so there were three of us, Lieutenant Patenaude and Lieutenant Mayes as officers, and we had about 60 drivers, which are—dog drivers were the finest people you've ever met. I mean, and my opinion is, people that have dogs that like them, and that they like them, they have the qualities or leadership or citizenship you like to be around.

Mike, I've got to tell you, we didn't do a lot of strict military courtesy. It was wonderful. So the camp is divided into its—we need to eat, and we need to have the laundry and all of the other things. Plus, we had to have a warehouse where we made sleds, where we had leather, and cut the leather into strips and treated it. So the sleds were all made, and tied together with leather. Then the dog harnesses were made.

But we had around, I was going to say around 1,000 dogs, but we—and Lieutenant Mayes, his job was to go through the Canada and Alaska and buy candidates for sled dogs. And one of my favorite dogs couldn't make it, the Norwegian elkhound: built right, got fur, can stand cold weather, can stand—didn't have the right mentality. He would pull. I adopted one of the dogs. I got a discharge for one of the dogs and sent her home to Evelyn's parents. As long as it was fun pulling, he was a good puller, but when it got to be work, he quit. He disqualified. So anyway, then Lieutenant Mayes also equipped and trained pack dogs for packing, individual pack dogs.

And when we got through with that assignment, which is at the winter time, in the wintertime—and I had a private team of dogs that couldn't make it. They weren't strong enough, persistent enough, crazy enough to pull until they drop. And so my wife and I traveled on old railroad bridges and like this, as we laid out training routes. So the drivers had to go through their certain training. We went across the mountains to Deer Lodge, Montana, and back again on an overnight trip—everybody, including me and Evelyn, for training. And when we get the 55 teams trained, the camp was closed.

And then I went from there to Fort Benning, Georgia, where I was then transferred and was appointed company commander of the 37-35th Quartermaster Trucking Company. But I must say that the association with the quality of men, and equipment, and the spirit! Nobody worried about [unclear]—they worked; they enjoyed making a good sled. And when you've got a sled, you are anxious to go out and see how it worked. And so it was a busy, busy group, and another inspiration.

MD: Very interesting story of some of the unsung units of World War II.

AL: [0:15:05] Yes.

MD: And they had such an important job, to protect the very, very secret northern bomb site, as well as—as well as the downed pilots.

AL: Yes. Yes, right.

MD: That's great. So now—

AL: One thing I must add, that in the Battle of the Bulge, dog teams were sent to the heart of France, and from there, they were out on rescue missions, and it's cold in Europe at that—and we had dog teams, some of the dog teams, that came on that assignment. And I just lucked in again, when I went to get the payroll for my company. I walked onto a bridge, and there was a dog tied around the edge of the ship, and where's the driver? We had old home week for seven minutes while I went off to get the payroll. It was amazing!

MD: That's something. Now, we're going to get into a part of World War II history that is kind of underrepresented, as far as the stories out there. And it's an important story that needs to be documented, and the fact that you were put in command, as a white officer, into an all-black unit that was a quartermaster truck corps. And this was—all of the units were segregated at the time, but they had white officers. Now, did you—what were your feelings about being put in charge of an all-black unit? Was that an issue with you?

AL: No, no. I took command, and it doesn't make any difference what the color of your skin is; I have responsibilities. I took command of the 37-35th Quartermaster Trucking Company. All of the soldiers were from the south. And there were four Caucasian officers with me. And I think I was a little bit dictatorial with regard to color, that, skip it. I come from a family that looks at you as people. Whether you are six years old or 60 years old, you are people. And we got along fine.

These young men that came in were not very well formally schooling educated. Some couldn't write their name legibly. We were going to make truck drivers out of them, and mechanics. And right off the bat, you knew—right off the bat, you learned and appreciated the diligence. These officers went at their assignments; they liked it. And I can remember that they didn't like this military courtesy. Basically, this was one of the things that we dwelled on a lot, because the Army depends upon the person getting instructions and following them, and doing what they are supposed to do. So we had good, good rapport. And basically it was one of the more pleasant times in my life working with the 37-35th.

Then—then the 35-33rd, with Captain Talbott, they were on maneuvers to go overseas. I don't know what the length of time that I was with the 37-35th, because we got trucks, and we went up hills and down, and we tried to teach you to be sure and put it in a lower gear when you were going down steep hills and stuff. But Captain Talbott lost his life on—while they were on maneuvers, and I got orders to report as the company commander for the 35-33rd Quarter Company.

And this was a whole different ballgame! There, I'm the only Caucasian. My officers are black officers, and every—the feeling against me was obvious. If a dog can look at you and tell you whether you are happy or unsure, human beings can react to body language. You can tell if a person is compatible with you, or dislikes you. [0:20:03] And I'm Caucasian, and I am disliked. I am terribly disliked, and so you could feel the mutinous attitude. But we worked it out with—well, the regimental commander was smart enough to see that—we called, we visited, and he said, "I will support you on anything that you need to do." So I had some disciplinary things.

And right there, I learned one of the things that I think's important for a commanding officer and a person, or a CEO and an employee in a company: if you are performing your services like you should, as company commander, I want to come in and talk to you. Don't receive orders from somebody else, and court martials you, or takes and disciplines you. As a company commander, I want to talk to you face-to-face, so we can exchange ideas. On the principle: there is no crime in having a difference of opinion. The fault lies in the bitterness of your controversy. So stay stable; stay decent to one another, and lay it out the way it is. And that way, you can walk out of there feeling good about yourself, and as company commander, I'm still in charge. And so, the colonel of the battalion, or the regimental commander, backed me up on everything.

And then we're on maneuvers and Major Zimmerman came out and inspected my company, and we were not able to follow the rules and regulations yet; I did not get cooperation. And so when I asked the colonel, I needed a new first sergeant, and the first sergeant I had was a beautiful man, big man, about 6-foot-4, would have made a wonderful tight end. [Laughs] Anyway, then I was the one that disciplined him, and tried—but in walked Sergeant Coleman. One day I'm out there in the field trying to get things straightened out, and a Jeep pulled up, and this Sergeant Coleman, African American from the word go, my size, walked up and says, "Captain Shaw, I'm Sergeant Coleman, reporting for duty, sir." And that was one of the, another great breaks in my life, to meet one of the finest men I've ever known, as a leader and a commander.

MD: Now, just to fill us in, what was—what was his actual rank? Was he a master sergeant?

AL: Oh, I'm a captain by now.

MD: Yeah, you were a captain, but what was, what rank of sergeant was it? And what was his full name? Do you remember that?

AL: No. And furthermore, we were together for all of those years through Europe and the southwest—we never socialized. Captain Shaw, youse white and us black. And we didn't socialize. In other words, where did you go to school? What's your background? We never got into any personal relationships whatsoever. We were strictly military. I mean, it was Sergeant Coleman—you didn't say, "Hey Coleman, do this or do that." It was Sergeant Coleman, and he took charge of the company. And he was like the lieutenant, like the regimental commander.

After about three or four days, when we were to—trying to get the things going, he comes up and says Captain Shaw, I've got to talk to you. And we go into my tent, and he explains to me, "I know how to handle these men and you don't. I need your authority to back me up, and I will run this company. And Captain, you are never, never to touch one of my soldiers. Every time you address a soldier, it's Soldier So-on, or Corporal So-on, and you salute every one of my men. And I'm going to require them to salute you. Because, you are not saluting the man, you are saluting the uniform, and they are saluting your uniform. Forget about the men behind. We have a duty to perform. We have an assignment that we've got to perform."

And that taught me quite a bit about being an administrator. [0:25:00] Because then, to get service from my employees, know what's going on, and come out and watch it, and I—oh, my gosh, I almost lost command there one time. I come in, and one of the soldiers was scrubbing the floor at our barracks that we happened to be in. And he was having an awful time wringing out the rag. And I said, "Soldier So-and-so, let me show you how to do that easy, because I have scrubbed floors." And so I showed him how to get down there, to take that rag down there and bring it up, and just funnel all of the water off, and the dirt goes into the bucket.

And that was a mistake, because that—that indicated something on this—on the training from—that many of the American blacks had, that they were dictated to about the Caucasian was a supreme race, or whatever it was. But, Sergeant Coleman straightened me out on that, and I didn't do that anymore. But I listened to everything Sergeant Coleman laid out, and then I followed up on it.

But I found out another thing about us human beings—whether you are black or white, we can stand a little compliment. We can soak up some ego nourishment when you do a good job, and we recognize it. And I think this was one of the keys to the fact that, as we went on, I got good cooperation from the soldiers. Now, I think I got cooperation from practically all of the 200 men except about six, which couldn't get over this black and white business.

MD: Yeah. Fill us in, just basically, just basic information. How many men were under your command? How was the structure of your unit put together? How many trucks, and what type of trucks did you have?

AL: Two-and-a-half ton GMCs were the ones that crossed Europe. How they got them across that big ocean, I don't know. But anyway, it was amazing to me. And as I remember, they had about 200, put into four platoons, and a lieutenant in charge of each one of them. One platoon would be the motor vehicle maintenance—motor vehicle, because we had lots and lots of need for mechanical help and motor maintenance. Motor maintenance was the key to keep it going. And then, so, I'd lay out the performance to my second lieutenants, who then went and carried out with their individual groups. And to me, another real key in the Army is the corporal who is in command of six men. He's in just a little squad. Because, I think when you get more than four men working together, you've got conflict. [Laughs]

MD: Now, did you—I know, like I say, you wouldn't have a racist bone in your body, but did you run into some of your fellow officers that were perhaps from the south, or that were what we would today consider to be racist? And did they treat their soldiers differently than you did? Did you run into that at all?

AL: Yes. If you, as a Caucasian, came from the south, you expected to boss. You expected them to walk on one side of the street, and not drink out of the same fountain that you did, and they unknowingly or knowingly catered to this kind of behavior, which was totally contrary to my whole philosophy, and personality, too. And I tried to point out—I tried to point out some of the leadership things, qualities that Sergeant Coleman had. I mean, it's recognized the world over that a good commander has a lot of self-composure, has a positive thinking, has the personality to listen to arguments, [0:30:02] or to be condemned and not let it bother you; don't let it touch you, and then just be calm and respectful. And when your action is good taste toward the other person, this is leadership.

This is really—even men who had a strong prejudice against me, I felt they responded to being treated as a normal human being. I responded to them, because I had some of the finest human beings that I've ever associated. Lieutenant Long was another person that you admire and respect. And I had sergeants in my company that were—well, I learned. I learned that just because you're black or white, there's no difference. There was a certain percentage that didn't follow the—didn't have good morals, didn't follow the rules, found themselves in trouble. But there was a large segment that was just like the rest of society, that were pulling their tugs tight and enjoying it.

MD: Let me mess with your microphone here for a quick second. [Microphone noises]

AL: Jeez, I tugged that right off, didn't I? [Laughs]

MD: [Laughs] [Pause] Now, throughout your time in command of the 35-33rd, you speak about some attempts that were made on your life. Now, were those kind of like isolated, or was this something that was kind of rampant within these all-black units with white commanders?

AL: Yes. Sergeant Coleman pointed out six people, six men in the company that just could not accept me at all. His advice: be careful. Don't get in positions where they might shoot you. Or, don't get in positions where they killed Captain Talbott. He was in his parabola [?] tent, and he'd gone to bed at night, and you had your cot right there. All you had to do was take a grenade, pull the pin, roll it under there, and he's gone. So I'm sorry to say, and have to admit it, that I carried a .45 loaded, and I actually had a carbine, a 30-caliber carbine that I practiced shooting from the hip, so I could hit a plate at—across the room without any—and so this is a terrible relation with a human being, but this was another case of self-defense on my part.

A close one with Sergeant Coleman—I'll give you one incident where he saved my life without equipment. We are in, I think, in Göppingen, in Germany, and I have—we went in and occupied houses, and had—we zeroed in on schoolyards, because there we had space for trucks. And I'm in this room, and somebody, someone unknown to me, guesses where I'm in there, and shot in there, but they hit on the floor right in front of me, and I grabbed my gun and took off for the door.

And who did I meet in the door right there? Captain Talbott, "No, no, no, no!" This was set up. If I'd have stepped out there, he pushed me back, and Captain—I mean, he ordered me around physically. He grabbed ahold of me physically and said, "Get back in there," because—I'll never know, but I think if I'd have gone out there, I would have had it right there. But that was one instance that was so clear, then another one in the Philippines, but that's another—

MD: Now, was Sergeant Coleman a big man?

AL: No, he was just my size.

MD: Oh.

AL: [0:34:58] Yeah, about 160 pounds, a hundred—just my size. But [laughs] I think the body is a servant of the mind, and his mind had the capabilities of being one great person.

MD: Now, you speak about when you first got to your unit, that you never, for fear of having a grenade rolled under your cot, that you never slept in the same place for the first couple of weeks. You moved your bedroll around?

AL: The first night out—the first night out, I slept outside on the ground with the sleeping bag that was provided by the Army, and with a loaded gun. Then of course, I think the first two nights I changed places. But then Sergeant Coleman came in, and—but I never—I never slept on a cot next to the wall. And that isn't part of Sergeant Coleman's training. You know, an Army cot is very easy; you just move it out and put your—and go to sleep on it. And so I got over being afraid at night in three or four days. Yeah.

MD: Sad state of affairs, but like I say, a very interesting time in the U.S. Army's history. And you having a major part in this, and your story, is very important for World War II historians, as well as future generations, to know that this was an issue in the military, and it is vastly underrepresented in the war stories. You don't hear about this, and so it is very important. Let's ship out.

AL: Oh.

MD: I understand that you—that the unit shipped out, and that you went through Boston, England, where you landed in the continent when your unit was shipped overseas?

AL: Yes. We left Boston, and went to England, to Liverpool in England, and there we regrouped. And then we went across the Channel. We went across the Channel and we hit the beaches. But I don't know anything about Omaha Beach then. And then we walked. We walked then up, and there were, up the side, on the other side of the English Channel, onto fields, and that we had tents and we had good equipment. So we stayed in the field out of Le Havre, France, for a while, until our trucks come in, or whatever it was.

And I don't remember just how we shifted out of there, but I kept—but Sergeant Coleman was very anxious, or very thoughtful, in saying that this was not a time to fraternize with your officers. You maintain a military relationship with your officers. As an illustration, you require the officers to wait until you start eating. And out there, under bivouac conditions, it was—but I did. And we followed his instructions, and we got through, and then got our trucks eventually.

MD: So you landed on the continent. Was it D-Day plus a number of days?

AL: I have no idea how long that was afterward, because there was still some ordinance of one kind or another left. And some of the—I remember the pill boxes that were up on the hillside, but there was nobody there now, and a peaceful situation. But I remember the feeling of the staring. And we got one man here in Corvallis, Oregon, that lived through Omaha Beach, and that's Steve Bessey [?] on June the 6th. So every June the 6th, it's a time to count your blessings that you're still alive, and he's younger than I am.

MD: So we're in Europe, and now your unit—I noticed that you talked about having various different missions. Now your unit, was it assigned to—what Army was your unit assigned to?

AL: [0:40:01] As far as I know, the Sixth Army.

MD: Sixth Army.

AL: But that's a memory, and the unit—the results came to me. The battalion, I think, had five companies, or something like that. And then we would report to this depot to pick up telephone lines, and gas, and equipment and food, and report to you, to the next company, carry that to you. And so, you're my lieutenant; you've got my assignment, the communications, and so I've got another platoon that will do this. Sometimes we would carry a lot of gasoline, a lot of fuel, and then sometimes, a lot of ammunition, and that goes to a different group. And so we were behind the front, behind the line, the whole time, just supporting, supporting.

And one time when we were in Charmes, France, President—General Eisenhower came in on a Jeep. The war's going on. He comes in, and I'm the company commander, and when I see these four stars on there, I think, "Holy cow!" And so I had the presence of mind to say, "Hello, General Eisenhower," when I saluted him, because I lucked out and I guessed it was the right man. His concern in looking over my company was, "Do you have enough food? Are your men happy? Do they clearly understand their missions? Are they carrying out their missions to your satisfaction?" I mean, that was his supervision of me. Food was one of the major things, to be sure you had enough to eat.

MD: Now, I hear that you supported General Patton during the Battle of the Bulge.

AL: Yes, yes.

MD: In December and January of 1944. Now, what was that function? Did you guys—were you following Patton's column with supplies?

AL: We were following it, yes, yes, because it moved through very fast. And new assignments, and language barriers that we had, so we had to clear things up on where do you deliver these goods that we've got? And then the communications on supplies that go—where are the supplies needed, and then, where do they go? And that was our—so we were quite a ways behind them, but we saw the results of it, and so on. But, I never feared for the population. I never feared resentments from the German people. I wasn't afraid.

I don't remember what city we were in, but I took over a factory where I could—it had big yards for the trucks. And in that factory was an enclosure where the German people had captured some of the Russian folks, and kept them under control. And when we moved in, they wanted food; the Russian people wanted food. And I remember that was one of the major concerns.

MD: So as you're traveling across Europe, are you, like, living in tents, moving from city to city, setting up headquarters in small towns and buildings? What were your living conditions?

AL: Just think, how discourteous, how unkind, how mean! When we moved into a town, and we came, and you had a house, you had a group, especially around a school, we moved you out, or we moved in with you. And there was a—we didn't going to stay very long. And we just had really—we got by with a lot of harmony, or without conflict. Even though you may have lost a brother, a father, a sister along the line, [0:45:02] I don't remember having to—having to have confrontations with the German people. And then here, it's—but, so we stayed a lot in homes, or schools. Schools were wonderful, because you had rooms.

But we all had tents. I, the company commander, had tents. And then, I forgot what city we went into, but we were going to stay there several days. And that's when we set up my parambular [?] tents, and some of the more permanent structures that we had. But the thought of moving in, and kicking you out is just terrible, and you know, I don't remember what town, but we went into a school, and the schoolmaster and his wife lived there, and I moved in with them. And they just left me with a nice bedroom and bathroom, and, oh, dear!

MD: Well, I tell you what, before we end the war, how about if we have lunch?

AL: Really? Well.

Debora Landforce: Would you like a break, Dad?

AL: No, he's bringing me back. I'm trying to visualize situations, and I don't know dates. And I think—

MD: We'll put dates together.

AL: And so on. But—

MD: Well, we want to take a little break.

AL: As we talk about the war, you're generating the absolute ridiculousness of war! And when I think the human being is capable of so much happiness! Why do we hate? Why do we still allow a segment of the population—as we are sitting here, think of the thousands of Homo sapiens that are fearful of their life, or get up with revenge. I'm just not made that way. I like the feeling of a bonding of love, when that woman says, "Dad, we've got to go bluefishing."

DL: [Laughs]

MD: [Laughs]

AL: Okay. Now, this is one of the finest emotions of love that the human being is capable of assessing and enjoying. Why are we smothering that all over the world? Anyway. Okay, we ought to have lunch. [Laughs]

MD: I'll get you going, yeah. [Laughs]

DL: [Laughs]

AL: I don't know. [0:48:06]


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