It is now 80 years ago that my father, John McKenzie, was spending the Easter season in basic training at Camp Croft in South Carolina. A few weeks later, he would be shipping out to join the campaign that was about to commence in Europe.
During the second world war, Camp Croft was a WWII Army Infantry Replacement Center located near Spartanburg, SC.
John arrived at the beginning of January 1944 to begin basic training. During an interview in 2000, he recalled that upon arrival he was a typical wartime recruit: “you’re green, and you’re scared, and you don’t know what else to do, and you do what you’re told.” Weekdays were filled with drilling and training, but weekends offered a chance to relax and explore the nearby city of Spartanburg.
During the first week of February, John attended the Soldier’s Recreation Center of First Presbyterian Church in Spartanburg. The following week, the church office sent a postcard to his family back in Illinois to let them know of his visit: “We enjoyed having him with us and we look forward to his return.” The card was signed by a member of the Soldier’s Entertainment Committee.
I have no direct evidence that John attended any Sunday services at First Presbyterian, but there is good circumstantial evidence that rather than returning to a Camp Croft chapel service, he may have at least returned to First Presbyterian Church on Sunday, March 26, for a morning Easter service. John sent home three postcards that were each dated March 26, 1944. On the back of the one with a nice color picture of First Presbyterian Church, John wrote that he thought it was a “pretty” church. On the card featuring the Greyhound Bus Depot, located just a few blocks from the church, he noted that he was spending Easter afternoon at the U.S.O. in Spartanburg. Finally, the third postcard contained his Easter greetings to the family.
While traveling recently through Spartanburg, I had a chance to drop by First Presbyterian Church. It was on a Sunday morning and I did not wish to venture inside since my wife and I did not have time to linger and we did not want to interfere with the Sunday services. We did however take a few snapshots of the exterior. The church’s appearance is almost a perfect match with the pictures John had sent to the family, creating a “you were there” feeling for me. As a casual observer, the only obvious changes I could see were that a newer addition to the part of the building nearest the street corner had been constructed, and the sign in the front lawn is newer and larger than the old 1944 sign visible in the postcard.
After the war, the Army sold the Camp Croft property and the former camp area has since been completely converted to civilian use, including residential housing and businesses, and a significant portion is now Croft State Park.
It was a neat feeling to be in the same area where my Dad had spent that Easter season, and maybe even that Easter Sunday morning, 80 years ago! It was also exciting to observe that First Presbyterian Church seems to be carrying on a vibrant ministry in the community today, just as they were doing in 1944.
I will echo my Dad’s message from that Easter 1944 postcard and wish a Happy Easter for all of you.
MATTHEW McKENZIE 