The Swellesley Report

The following is a first-person historical narrative to commemorate the first V-J Day, sent to The Swellesley Report by former Wellesley resident Channing Wagg. In addition to his written report, we spoke to Mr. Wagg for a while by phone to clarify some points. Although he now lives elsewhere, Mr. Wagg says he’s never forgotten that day when Wellesley took to the streets to celebrate the end of World War II.

For some historical context, V-J Day, which means “Victory Over Japan Day,” is now officially observed in the United States on Sept. 2. On that date, aboard the Navy ship the USS Missouri, while anchored in Tokyo Bay, Japan, Army Gen. Douglas MacArthur signed the Instrument of Surrender for the United Nations, and Fleet Adm. Chester Nimitz signed for the United States. In addition, Japanese representatives signed the official Instrument of Surrender. 

However, it was on Aug. 14, 1945, that President Harry S. Truman announced that Japan had surrendered unconditionally, effectively ending World War II. This news triggered immediate celebrations across the United States. 

Many other countries including Australia, the Netherlands, New Zealand, South Korea and the United Kingdom celebrate Aug. 15 as V-J Day. On that date in 1945, Japanese Emperor Hirohito broadcast the surrender to the Japanese people on Radio Tokyo.

Here’s what Mr. Wagg recalls about how August 14, 1945 unfolded in Wellesley, Mass.

A day like no other

When Japan announced its surrender, it stopped formal hostilities for the United States in World War II. I was exactly six and one-half years old that day, too young to grasp its larger significance, but old enough to remember the pandemonium in usually sedate Wellesley Square that evening. And pandemonium it was, freed like an uncoiling spring by the ending of 1,346 days of US direct involvement in combat operations (December 7, 1941 – August 14, 1945), spanning the 3,300 nautical miles across the Pacific from Pearl Harbor to Tokyo. The announcement also marked and end to the the flow of telegrams, some 100,000 of them, beginning, “The Secretary of War desires me to express his deep regret….”

Two of those telegrams were delivered on Solon Street, where I lived with my maternal grandparents and my mother from spring, 1944 until early 1946 while my father, drafted just before his 37th birthday, served in the Navy which included time at Sea Gate Naval Hospital, Brooklyn. My father made it through the war. But not every family on my street was as lucky.

One telegram brought bad news related to fleet action in the Pacific. The other telegram relayed information about the crash of an airplane with MIT Radiation Laboratory personnel aboard testing radar equipment.

Another household had received news earlier that year that a son had been evacuated from the Battle of the Bulge. His mother told us his evacuation was due to to a self-inflicted gun-shot wound. Another family received bad news about a fireman who served on a destroyer off Okinawa.

Indeed, World War II dealt a heavy hand to four families on our short road with under a dozen houses.

One soldier on Solon St. got through more lightly. We kids knew him only as Dick, who lived in the house at the corner of Brook and Solon Streets. He came back from Europe and occasionally would talk and joke with us kids, something like an older brother. He went back to school at Babson on the G. I. Bill. One day the gang went by his house, and his sister told us he had a date. We asked who with and she told us her name was Bubbles Dolly. That gave us something to talk about.

A celebration in the streets

On August 14th, The bells of the Wellesley Congregational Church pealed continuously from late that afternoon until almost midnight. The Square was filled with automobiles jammed with passengers, most drinking. Those who couldn’t fit inside the car jumped onto the running boards, bottle in one hand, the other gripping a hand strap. Horns were beeping, bugles played, people yelled, waved flags, kissed each other, confetti showered around. The War was over, finished, the vengeance of Pearl Harbor done with. Peace was finally here.

Eighty-one years later, Woodlawn Cemetery has its share of graves marked with a small flag in commemoration of military service performed. V-J Day is now observed throughout the United States on Sept. 2, the date of the formal signing (with the exception of Rhode Island, which sticks with August).

I just wanted to remind folks about V-J Day, and tell everyone what it was like in Wellesley. As one of the few left who can remember the August 14th that Wellesley Square erupted in laughter, tears, bells, and celebration, it seems important. These anniversary days matter, and taking a few minutes to remember means something.

Sincerely,

Channing Wagg
Former Solon St. resident, from 1944-1948