Pvt Johnson

Bernard Johnson was born at home in Milwaukee, WI on September 15^th, 1921, the second of five children.  The Johnson children were educated in Catholic schools thru the 8^th grade and went on to a public high school.  Young Bernard didn’t find high school much of a challenge after 8 years of Catholic education, but his teachers though he was an able student.  He became a member of the school wrestling team, doing well enough to place second in the city championship his senior year.

 

Bernie helped out at home with chores like all the Johnson kids.  At 14 he got a job pumping gas and washing cars at a filling station a few blocks from home.  After high school his boss gave him a job as a mechanic’s helper and he was soon doing some of the easier repairs by himself.  His seemed to have a natural aptitude for mechanical devices. 

 

Because of his wrestling background Bernie started training at a boxing club.  Money was tight and he almost had to quit the club but caught a break and was able to make some extra money working as a bouncer at a club down town. He was getting ready for amateur matches in Milwaukee’s new Golden Glove competition when his draft notice arrived. 

 

Kurt, his favorite uncle, was a private eye and tried to get Bernie interested in that line of work after high school.  His uncle took him out to a gravel pit a few times and taught him a little about shooting, first using an old hunting rifle “because everyone starts with a rifle” and then a revolver.  Bernie humored his uncle, even worked for him a few times as a “bodyguard” for some visiting big-whigs.  He didn’t mind helping Kurt, but didn’t see himself as a private detective.

 

Bernie had always been good at math and what he really wanted was go to college and study engineering or maybe accounting.  He knew this was beyond his means, and was thinking he might open his own auto repair shop.  But he still had a lot to learn as a mechanic and opening a shop would take money.  Just like his boxing hobby, the plans to open a garage got put on hold by the war.

 

After his group had completed their entrance examinations they were sent to a waiting room. A sailor came in and asked if anyone wanted to join the navy.  Bernie thought about that for all of 5 seconds and said to himself “I can’t swim, why the hell would I join the navy?”  So old Uncle Sam sent him off to be an infantryman and he wondered if maybe he should’ve asked for the navy.  One of these days I’m gonna learn to swim!

 

Basic training seemed to whiz by, Bernie was in pretty good shape to begin with and he tried not to attract attention from the drill sergeants.  He got chewed out a couple of times, but the D.I.s had bigger problems than Private Johnson to worry about.  Bernie got picked as a rifle grenadier and at first he didn’t think much of the Springfield ’03.  After training on the Garand in basic this seemed like a step backwards, but given a few days on the grenade ranges the ’03 earned his respect.

What came as a big surprise was that after years of wrestling, boxing and working as a bouncer he learned just as much about hand to hand combat from the Army in a couple of months.  Even more surprising was that the Army couldn't teach him anything about what they called silent killing he didn't already know.