Published: July 03, 2008 08:26 pm            

Fishing and Freedom on the 4th of July

Awakened from a much needed catnap by the low hum of distant engines, J. P. Nolen knew instantly what was happening. The young man and his companions were concealed in their camouflaged “blind” and ready for action. Years of target practice and woodsmanship skills honed in the woods of Webster County were about to come to fruition.

Nolen and his compadres were concealed just inside the woodline when the German tanks came into view on the formerly deserted road. Tanks were stretched out as far as the eye could see. The Germans passed by silently except for the hum of their engines, unaware of the woods full of country boys that now had them in their sights.

Before long the tanks were stretched out in a line as far as could be seen in either direction. At the appointed time Nolen gave the signal and the tank gunner squeezed off a shot that exploded a German tank and the battle began. American tanks struck swiftly and took the Germans by surprise behind enemy lines as volley after volley struck home. Though the action was fierce and casualties were sustained, the southern boys were ultimately triumphant.

The Battle Continues



“Boom, ka-boom, boom, boom” Our sanctuary shook with violent force as the thunderous volleys woke us from a deep sleep. “Mike, help me, help me,” exclaimed J. P. Nolen with urgency in his voice. Startled from my sleep I tried to make sense of the situation, afraid to move even a muscle. Boom, boom, boom, came the loud sounds once again.

The battle raged outside and our safety was now in question. “They’re coming in on us.” They’re coming in on us. We’ve been hit and the roof’s coming down, help me hold it up!” exclaimed my mentor. As soon as I got my wits about me, I clicked my flashlight on and illuminated our room. There, I was relieved to see my grandfather’s long arms bracing against the underside of his bunk bed, as he held it up.

A storm had come upon us in the middle of the night and blown a couple limbs onto our camphouse. As thunder boomed and the wind raged, a piece of tin underpinning had also been blown off on one side and the resultant noises were loud and continuous. Though some 40 years had passed since Grandpa Nolen’s last triumphant battle thousands of miles away in Germany, the war continued on in Webster County, Mississippi.

Yes, World War II was raging once again and I was caught up in the heat of battle, if only for a few moments. This was the first time I had ever been in “battle” with him, but not the last, as it turned out. While the war had been over for many years, it bubbled to the surface occasionally when triggered by sudden noises during the middle of the night for J. P. Nolen. Otherwise, one would never have known what he and thousands of other American men and boys had gone through. Thankfully, my observance had come during a night at the deer camp and not actually in live combat.



July 4th Stripers



As dawn broke the hot muggy air was just a foretaste of what was to come later in the day. Casting my buck tail jig into the darkness I quickly reeled in the slack and felt a tap. Rearing back on the rod I drove the steel hook home, and the fight was on. A ravenous striped bass had taken my offering very quickly and my day had begun with a bang!

My grandfather J. P. Nolen had also cast out into the whitewater below the Ross Barnett spillway and hooked up with a striped bass of his own. A few minutes later he landed a 15 pound striper and the rout was underway. For the next couple of hours we caught and released many sea run striped bass. By 8 a. m. we were on our way back home for breakfast and a day of low key celebration, homemade ice cream and some much needed relaxation.

While that Fourth of July trip occurred back in the 1970s, it is still vivid in my memory and one of countless fishing trips I made to the waters around our state with him. You name it and we did it. And yes, occasionally we had some rough times in our lives, but never any problems with each other. After going to battle with him a few nights, I realized just a little of what he had gone through for me and others, way before I was ever born.

I’m constantly reminded that the price of my fishing and hunting trips is much more than the few dollars that I spend on them. Looking back on many happy fishing trips with my hero, I am more thankful every day for him and men like him, who gave almost everything they had to give us our freedom.

As we celebrate another joyous July 4th, I’ll be ever aware of the price of freedom paid in full for me by J. P. Nolen and other brave men. And when I catch another bass today, I’ll remember him and all of the good times we had in God’s wondrous Mississippi outdoors!

        

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