By the fall of 1940, Fred Oldfield registered for the draft, as all young men were required to do. But Fred also had the chance to pursue his art education. “My brother Whitey’s occupation was mostly gambling,” Fred wrote. “He became friendly with a drifting artist and paid him $2 a day to teach me to paint. Whitey spent ten dollars on me, and I learned as much as there as in any school or class I ever attended.”
Tragedy was on the way. A building in the town of Toppenish exploded, a shocking event picked up by the national news. The York Daily record wrote, “Seven Killed in Warehouse Blast.” Closer to home, The Observer of LaGrande, Oregon wrote, “Fiery Tomb Results From Terrific Gas Explosion.” Among the seven people killed was Fred’s idolized big brother Pat, who left behind is wife, Alice, their five year old son, Jerry, and another baby on the way.
Fred’s Mother never recovered from the loss of her oldest son, and died the following May and Fred, at loose ends and looking for a change of scene climbed into steerage and headed for Alaska, not yet a state but the rumor was that there were gold nuggets in the streets. Not exactly true. There wasn’t even a room available in Sitka and Fred was short on funds, but he finally found a place to put his sleeping bag in the attic of an old hotel with dozens of other guys. In the basement, he found some 9 inch linoleum squares on which he painted pictures which turned out to be his first sales.
“The proprietor was fascinated by my efforts and she became my first agent,” Fred wrote. “She would go from bar to bar selling the paintings for me. She couldn’t wait for the paintings to dry and took them from bar to bar selling them for about $10 apiece, which was a healthy amount in those days.”
By then the US was at war, and Fred made his way home, picking up money by painting patriotic scenes on the bomber jackets of enlistees on the way to join the Army Air Corps. (Joella would love to find one of those jackets for display at the Western Heritage Center.)
In preparation for writing her book, Better than I Deserve, Joella Oldfield made an amazing discovery. On a shelf with items ready to be thrown away, she found a box full of the sketch diaries that Fred had kept all of his life. The ones he kept during World War II were of special interest. Like this entry for January 7, 1942 when Fred was getting used to Army life.
“We saw a show on sex hygiene and had the Articles of War read to us. They can shoot you for almost anything, and court martial you for putting cream on your pie. In his case, the one thing in our favor is we don’t very often get pie.”
Or the next day, January 8, “A few of the boys went for haircuts and when asked if they wanted to keep their sideburns, and answering yes, they brought them home in a paper sack.”
Fred wrote about running up what may be a record for going AWOL, but the Army must have seen something to love as he kept going away, and they kept taking him back. He was finally sent to Adak in the Aleutians and on November 14, 1942, he wrote, “The names came out on the bulletin board of the men staying here. My name was missing. So I’m on the sailing list and glad of it.” But Private Oldfield was still in Alaska at Christmas, “Best Christmas I’ve had in a year and the worst in twenty-five years. It sure was miserable. We had burnt turkey of course, and it was surprisingly good.”
Fred ended up in the famous A Company of Army Engineeers which built the aristrips from which the decisive attacks in the Pacific were launched – so he definitely played his part in winning the war. He wrote that he often felt guilty being pulled away from the necessary defense work to paint pictures and murals in mess halls and chapels. On June 18, 1943 he wrote, “I painted a picture in the theater for the Chaplain. It was a picture of Christ. I did not do too good, but it did not look bad from a distance.”
By January of 1944, victory was in sight but Fred wrote he’d have to stop writing in his diary, because it might be impounded until after the war because of the sensitive information in it, so he ended the last entry, as he is called to create a campaign to sell war bonds, with a special memory of the men he served with, “the Engineers, and the organization I will always be proud to have served with. I salute you, Engineers!”
Don’t miss seeing Fred tell some of these stories in his own words at the 20th birthday of the Oldfield Western Heritage Center on Friday, June 25. There’s a day of free fun and family activities from 10:00 am to 3 pm followed by the evening gala: celebrating 20 Years of Tunes, Tales and Togetherness. June 25, 5:00 to 8:30 pm in the VIP Tent on the Washington State Fairgrounds.
You’ll have the chance to hear Fred himself share some of these special tales in the video “Cowboy”.
Tickets for Gala Evening Program $75 per person – all proceeds will benefit The Children’s Art Program.
Coming Soon: Part 3 – Fred Oldfield Comes Into His Own As Premier Western Artist.
If you missed Part 1, click here.
In my estimation, it was an all-around better time – a much more rugged time – in the history of America.
They endured and paved the way for posterity.
Those of us who are here now should be grateful.
Opportunity and oppression are in the mind of the beholder.
Dear Brian,
I just saw your comment, As a contemporary of Fred Oldfield, I think what it was that all of America was agreed on what was right and what was wrong and what was expected of each American. Now, we’d just come out of WWII so it was easy to agree. I can’t agree that entirely about opportunity and oppression being in the mind of the beholder, BUT there’s a lot of truth to the story of the little kid cheerfully digging through a pile of horse droppings because, “There’s a horse in here somewhere.” It would be good to feel we were all united in pursuit of a common goal.