Russell Kingston–From Farm Boy To Prisoner of War

Russell Kingston Day

The following was taken from a tape my father, Russell Kingston, made for me several years ago. He shares some of his experiences growing up, as well as his time as a prisoner of war in North Korea. I would like to point out a couple of things up front: One, these are not all of his P.O.W. stories.  Some are just too disturbing to include here. There are times I wish I hadn’t heard them myself. Two, Dad jumps around a lot in his telling. I could tell when listening to the tapes that he became emotional and had to switch back to the farm years, or something else more comforting. The words are his, just as he spoke them, with no changes.

I’m happy to add that, as of this writing, Dad is very much alive and doing well. –Wade Kingston

Young Russell Kingston with catfish

This is Russell Kingston.  I’m gonna tell a few things of my life history.  I was born 12/21/31 to John and Gola McKinney Kingston.  I have lived on a farm all of my life, my childhood, and when I became a teenager I decided I would go in the army, which I did.  I joined the army May 11, 1950, went to Ft. Knox, taken seven or eight or ten weeks training and I was sent home for 18 days delay in route.  I went to Chicago, transferred from that train to another and went to Seattle, Washington and stayed there for a day or a day and a half, caught a plane and went to Tokyo, Japan. I spent one afternoon, one night and part of one morning in Tokyo.  Caught a train and went to Sasebo (Nagasaki), Japan.  From Sasebo I caught a ship which they said was Japan’s second-best ship and when I woke up the next morning I was in Pusan, South Korea and when we got off the ship, they told us to take a look at our enemy, which there were prisoners lined up on the railroad as far as you could see—North Koreans, so they issued us more ammunition and told us to go to our outfits.  I asked them where was I going and they said “You are going to the First Cavalry, Eight Regiment, K Company,” and I said, “Where is it?” and they said “Somewhere between here and the 38th Parallel.” I said, “How will I get there?”  And this officer said, “Well, soldier you have two feet don’t you?”  I said, “Yes, sir.”  And he said, “Well, use them.” Continue reading “Russell Kingston–From Farm Boy To Prisoner of War”

Kentucky Wonders

Kentucky Wonders

Two years ago I published a short eBook about my grandmothers. I am now making it available for free here.

Kentucky Wonders

Recollections and Recipes of My Rural Grandmothers

By Wade Kingston

Copyright © 2015 Wade Kingston

All Rights Reserved

Dedication

For Gola and Esther

Thank You

I would like to thank Helen Roulston. She has been a teacher, a mentor and an inspiration.

She has also been a terrific editor and a loyal friend.

Prologue

I grew up in rural western Kentucky of the 1950’s and 60’s. We didn’t have much money, but we had a lot of family. As a child I loved every member of our family, none more than my grandmothers.

I learned from my grandfathers by working beside them. From Grandpa Kingston I learned how to farm everything from corn to tobacco. And though I’m no Abe Lincoln, Grandpa Hammons taught me to swing an ax like I meant it. My grandfathers worked hard to provide for their families, and they had difficult years.  We tried to be understanding when they were short-tempered. In truth, they could sometimes be grumpy old men.

My grandmothers were different. In many ways their lives were more difficult than their husbands.’ They shared all the hard work with the added burden of childbirth. But they still managed to be warm and loving women. Grandchildren were greeted with a smile and a hug; their persistent questions were patiently answered. Most of what I know of our family history and country life I learned from my grandmothers. Continue reading “Kentucky Wonders”

Toby

Toby
Toby

Grandpa’s mule was sick.

Sam watched as the pitiful old animal walked around in a never-ending circle. “Toby” had been walking for days, plodding steadily through the hot sun and humid nights.

When Grandpa first discovered Toby making his circle, he called to the animal. But Toby’s ears did not turn toward Grandpa as they always had, nor did he falter in his gait. The big animal did not alter his steadfast plodding, even when Grandpa laid a strap across his broad back. Grandpa had not the heart to continue beating the faithful animal, so he let him be after that. The veterinarian told Grandpa to just shoot Toby. Grandpa told him thanks, that he would do that. But when it got right down to it he couldn’t. Grandpa told Sam, “Toby will come to his senses. You just wait and see.” Continue reading “Toby”