At 84, K.V. Gibson still doesn’t know why he doesn’t have a first name. People always ask him what K.V. stands for and he just answers with his characteristic chuckle.

“Don’t know, but I sure had a hard time getting paid in the Army because of it,” he says.

But there isn’t much about K.V. that falls under normal. He didn’t exactly have the most ideal childhood. Born in Drakesboro, Kentucky, on June 25, 1925, K.V. was welcomed into the world without a father. Things didn’t get much better for K.V. as life went on – his mother died when he was only eight. Life without parents for K.V. meant he had to rely on his older siblings for nearly everything. He admits that growing up the youngest of six siblings all depending on each other wasn’t the easiest start in life.

“We really didn’t have anything,” he says.

Still, humble beginnings didn’t keep K.V. from pursuing a bigger purpose in life, especially when war came. Despite the fact that he was just shy of the legal age to join the military, he spent over five years serving America during a few of the roughest years in history — World War II. During an April day in 1943, K.V. remembers seeing some friends headed out in a truck.

“I was standing on the side of the road when my friend V.H. Irwin and a few of his buddies came by. When I asked them what they were doing, they said they were going to join up,” he says. “They told me to come along.”

K.V. says that he knew he wasn’t old enough, but his friends just told him to lie about his age anyway. When he showed up with his friends for the physical, the recruiters asked for his age and he told them he was 18.

“They didn’t really check all that out,” he says. “So, it worked. I had to change my birth date a little.”

K.V. says he cleared the physical with no problems except one. When he got on the scale, they told him he was three pounds underweight.

“They told me to eat bananas,” he says. “So, I ate as many as I could, and by the time I reported for basic training, I had gained the weight.”

K.V. bounced around the U.S. — even going to cooking/baker school in Denver — before being shipped out to Naples, Italy, for his first tour of duty. It took six weeks for the ship to cross, and when the soldiers arrived, they weren’t exactly showered with rose petals.

“We had to run to the army trucks when the ship unloaded. There were bombs going off everywhere,” he says.

In fact, K.V says there were so many bombs that the trucks had to stop three times in order for the soldiers to run into the woods for cover. Things didn’t seem to get much better for the soldiers once they arrived to their destination. They all had to live in tents and deal with the bombs going off every hour of the day and night. K.V. says he still thinks about those days.

“It’s hard to forget that,” he says. “We were living off of powdered everything ... eggs, milk, you name it.”

But his time spent in uniform wasn’t the stuff of nightmares. K.V. and several other soldiers volunteered to drive convoy trucks when the regular drivers went on strike. The road to Pisa was rough and dangerous and there were to be two trips down that road. K.V. knew a job had to be done.

“We (the ones who volunteered) never really knew why the drivers went on strike, but I wanted to do what I could,” K.V. says.

Those trips were the cause of two injuries that K.V. sustained in the call of duty. Flak from bombs hit him in the face and once on his leg. He says he didn’t even realize that he’d been hit in the leg when it happened.

“I just remember something hot touching my leg and I just brushed it off,” he says. “Before long, I had an infection.”

The infection landed the volunteer driver a few days in the hospital. Before he knew it, two years went by before he was allowed leave to go home. The 90-day break was much welcomed, but the ship that would take him home was anything but a joy ride back to the states.

“That was the dirtiest ship I’ve ever been on,” K.V. shares. “Everyone gambled and a few men were even thrown overboard. Two or three men lost their lives over gambling on that ship.”

Unfortunately, the passengers turned out to be just one part of the tumultuous voyage back to America. Even the weather seemed to have its own agenda against the soldiers coming home: the ship had to battle its way through a hurricane. K.V. says he saw a sight he will never forget.

“I went out on deck towards the end of the ship, and I looked out to the front and all I saw was the ship going down towards the water,” he says. “I hurried up and went back inside.”

The ship was even said to have sunk off the coast since it was known it had gone through the hurricane. They finally arrived two weeks late to its destination, the port at Newport News, Virginia. K.V. was just glad to be alive and make it through the rough storm. When his 90-day leave was up, he reported back to the ship in New York, along with some unwelcome passengers.

“There were German prisoners on the ship with us,” he says. “They had more money than I did and they were prisoners.”

K.V. and his fellow soldiers knew little of having money. They only received $22 a month while in the service and an extra $6.50 in combat pay. The next few years for K.V were spent in France, where he left his wallet in a theatre (and ran back for it), and in Germany, where he met his first wife, Rose Muriel, whom he almost ran over in traffic.

“I remember jumping out of the truck and apologizing to her,” he laughs. “I’m not sure what she said to me. I think it was in German.”

However, she didn’t seem to hold his bad driving against him. They soon married and had two children together. Today, all he has from those days are his memories and the faded, recycled green military jacket that still hangs in his closet, some 60 years later. The jacket – where numerous buttons and ribbons are pinned and another man’s name is written in the torn fabric at the collar – reminds him of the days he slept in tents and drove trucks down dangerous paths for his country.

“I’m glad I served this country. I’m proud to be one of the ones who went over there and helped,” K.V. shares.

K.V. is still exercising his volunteer spirit and helping by doing electrical work and building ramps for those in need through his church, Greenwood Baptist, where he and his wife, Marie, have been members for 12 years.

–VS