THE RAPE OF
HOWELL AND HAMBURG,
MISSOURI
(An American Tragedy)
by
Donald K. Muschany
COPYRIGHT
© 1978 BY DONALD K. MUSCHANY. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Howell and Hamburg vs. The United States
Government, 1940
The
year was 1939. Great Britain’s famous umbrella man, Neville Chamberlain, had
made his last appeasement walk to Munich, and the little paperhanger named
Schickelgruber (stage name—Adolf Hitler) had marched into Poland. This event
was the kickoff for World War II, as England and France declared war on the
little demon.
There
are those who decried Chamberlain’s jaunts, but others who say that he bought
some time for England, France and, ultimately, the United States. It makes
little difference which way you think—the world was stuck with it.
The
United States began to tool up to help the Allies, and thousands of War plants
began to take shape. Legislation was being turned out by Congress like today’s
newspaper, and our role, at least for the present, was clear; we were to be a
giant arsenal, but non-combatant.
The
horror of war was balanced a bit by the return of full employment, as we were
just emerging from the Great Depression of the 30’s.
The
talk of Selective Service brought many men to the cities from the country to
work in defense plants which carried a draft deferral for the workers. This was
a common practice in most areas.
But in
tiny Howell and Hamburg, Missouri, less than 35 miles from St. Louis, most of
the men stayed home to raise crops for the war effort until they would be
called for the draft. Morris Muschany, of the vibrant Muschany family, became
the head of the Selective Service System in the region. He was also the
instructor in the principles of appointed duties for tangent Draft Boards.
Muschany was typical of the flexibility of the men of the area; he was a
successful registered mortician, having been a farmer, general storekeeper, and
St. Charles County coroner. True, the draft board concept was new to him, but
it had to be done. This seemed to be an implicit motto of the Howell and
Hamburg residents from the very beginning . . . “It had to be done.”
A proportion of the young unmarried males
were drafted into what has been called “the peace-time draft,” and served their
hitches only to go back almost as soon as Pearl Harbor became a reality in the
next year. Before that, however, Howell and Hamburg had their own Alamo.
War is
the blood-thirstiest and hungriest of man’s happenings, and its food was
dynamite (in those bygone days). The Government needed vast sources of this
dynamite, or more properly trinitrotoluene (TNT), ironically discovered by the
founder of the Nobel Peace Prize. For safety reasons, this necessity must be
manufactured in a remote area, and near water for construction purposes.
Unfortunately for the residents, the area around Howell and Hamburg,
Missouri (some 18,000 acres) provided both of these requirements.
Yes,
the year was 1940 and the month was October. Autumn was rapidly approaching. As
big white lazy clouds floated in the pale blue sky, Jack Frost was busy
painting his majestic pictures of color harmonies upon the area. Brilliant
colored leaves drifted down to old mother earth; hickory-nut picking was being
enjoyed by the younger ones; in endless processions, the birds were returning
to the South; the cattle were getting long shaggy coats of hair; and the farmers
were cutting their stores of wood which would keep them warm when the roads
were drifted shut with glistening snow. A faint odor of smoke was in the air,
and the southern heavens were aglow with a brilliant red because some careless
hunter had thrown a match or cigarette into the woods and started a forest
fire. Then came Sunday. A day of rest and thanksgiving. Like little groups of
Pilgrims, the farmers, workmen, businessmen, wives and children of Howell and
Hamburg trod down the narrow roads to their community churches to give thanks
for the good crops and the many blessings that they had received during the
year. They were peaceful settlements, and as little groups of men and women
gathered to worship no one was aware of what the future held for them. No one
had ever bothered them so why should they now? In their own security, they
thought no one would harm peace-loving people; yet, they knew of the war that
was raging in Europe . . . well, that was over there, so no need for worry. I
can remember my grandfather telling me about the home and farm land that we
owned. It had been in the family for more than one generation, and all had
lived here and died here and that was just the way that my dad had talked many
a time. Yes sir, nothing like it. All this freedom, good friendship with fellow
neighbors, and if mom wanted to borrow some sugar from her neighbor that was
just fine; and whenever someone put in a quilt, all the womenfolk had to go and
help, and when butchering time came around everyone exchanged help and got
ready for old man winter. Being able to have all these comforts and fine
relationships with each other was incomparable.
