76 years ago, the first American baby born in occupied Japan drew a breath and started yelling. He was so loud, the hospital nurses called him "first sergeant."
It was me.
The army wasn’t prepared for babies in occupied Japan, so wrapped in a hospital sheet and an olive drab Army blanket, I was driven home in an Army jeep. I was fed rice and condensed milk from olive drab C-ration cans.
Second Lieutenant Lucian K. Truscott III and his wife, retired Red Cross girl Anne Harloe Truscott, are shown here outside their quarters, which had been confiscated from the Japanese, in September of 1947.
Seventy-six years later, I celebrated my birthday in Milford, Pennsylvania with Tazzy the Box Cat, our dog Ruby, our newest member, Graycie the gray cat, and my beautiful wife, Tracy Harris. As an old rock and roll band used to sing, what a long strange trip it’s been.
Happy Birthday Mr. Truscott IV. Im right behind you; I will be 66 in June. I love all the stories an I think you have almost interesting life. I have enjoyed your stories since my cousin Linda Hopper introduced me to you. She is one of the only Democrats in our long family line. We are from Mississippi and Tennessee. I actually found her through a DNA match attempting to find my dad's real father. I was able to do that and found Linda both at the same time. She and I are in a minority in the family with political views. I have learned much from both of you.
Happy birthday! I’m glad you still have such a strong voice!