Preston Brooks Mayson

West Point, 1955

Be Thou At Peace

Posted by Cliff Jones on April 5, 2009:

Pres and I first met in 1942-1943 when our fathers were stationed at Fort McPherson in Atlanta. We lived in a row of lovely old quarters along the north side of the parade ground and having the run of the post, discovered all sorts of interesting things to keep us occupied. With his late brother Morgan, we caged donuts from the troop mess halls, familiarized ourselves with the variety of tactical vehicles then parked on the parade awaiting shipment to Europe - a vast, hidden, playground - and in general poked our noses into everything. In those days, the activities of a group of ten-year-olds was pretty much ignored. A favorite destination was the post salvage yard, known to us as the dump. Neat stuff was just laying around begging to be hauled off, and no one cared. Our major acquisition was the receiver of a fifty caliber machine gun - no barrel or guts, but what a find. I recall that we got it about half-way home before caving to exhaustion and leaving it in a roadside ditch. I also recall one evening after supper, playing outside in the woods behind our quarters in the dark, we decided on a game of "war," with rocks. No direct fire allowed, only indirect fire lobs. I took incoming right on the top of my head, prompting a quick visit to the emergency room. Good days with good friends. RIP.

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