Biography of Nicholas V. Sawick
CCCMan, Company 1219, Shrewsbury County, Vermont & Unknown Company, TVA, Speedwell, Tennessee
In 1933 I was inducted into the CCC at Camp Dix, New Jersey. We traveled by train as a group from New York to Vermont, a slow but enjoyable experience. For most of us this was our first trip away from home. My first assignment was in Shrewsbury County, Vermont. I think the camp was Camp #1219. There were 250 men in the camp, and, since the CCC was run by the army, we were supervised by four army officers, one sergeant, and one medical officer. We slept fifty men to a barrack that was heated by two wood stoves, one at each end of the barrack.
Once a week, we had Inspection, and our beds and footlockers were checked. Inspections were carried out by the camp staff, no higher ups ever came to the camp. The only ceremonies we had were flag raising and retreat. The discipline in the camp was good, there never seemed to be any problems. We had no military drill, but as war came closer, the officers offered to do military training for men who wanted it. This was done in town on Monday nights. Everybody volunteered. I guess that we wanted to be ready for whatever was coming.
There were few amenities. At lunchtime, we marched into the mess hall and sat randomly, or if we were in the field, we were served lunch from a mobile field kitchen. We were fed well. In Tennessee, I had the best baked beans I have ever tasted. The canteen sold toothpaste, brushes, candy, and, I think, I.D. Bracelets. Otherwise, we wore government-issued dog tags. Our basic uniform was army fatigues.
Our main jobs were fighting forest fires and building roads. The only tools we used were a pick and shovel, a sledge hammer, dynamite and raw youthful muscle. It took a month and a half to build a six mile dirt road, using cracked rock, produced by breaking down larger rocks with a sledge hammer, as a base and dirt topping. The road would have two purposes - to serve as a fire trail for firemen to bring equipment into the forest and to provide an access road for tourists. The road ended at the home of Calvin Coolidge, which became a tourist attraction.
Mostly we made our own recreation. The camp bulletin board might advertise a movie or a party, but these were rare. We might hitch a ride into town or to another camp to see friends, or take a bus to some city to see a movie. There was no recreation hall so no movies were shown in camp. There wasn’t even a radio to listen to. There was a baseball field, and some guys played ball, some played cards, and some read books.
As you can imagine, social life was limited. However, opportunities did arise. On one occasion, the camp posted a notice about a party in Rutland, a lovely town twenty-five miles away. I was not on the list of fellows allowed to go, but that didn't stop me. I sneaked into the truck that was taking the guys into town.
It was a great party, but Sergeant Burns spotted me and had a fit. There was no love lost between us, and he decided to punish me. He refused to let me ride in the truck back to camp. Having no other choice, at midnight I started walking. It was pitch-dark. No light, no cars, no hope of a lift. Even in the summer, in the Vermont mountains, it can get pretty cold at night. When I felt really chilled, I snuggled up to a cow sleeping in a field to get some warmth. Fortunately, the cow did not object.
To the astonishment of the entire camp, I arrived at reveille, made roll call, ate breakfast and then went to work. At nineteen years old you can do anything! I even went AWOL for a week to see my mother, but the CCC forgave me.
After my time in Vermont, I left the CCC, but rejoined about six months later. They assigned me to a three month stint near Speedwell, Tennessee where I worked on a TVA project. With a team of mules and plow, we excavated and leveled land. We even relocated an old cemetery to make room for a dam and reservoir. The work was so hard that one of the mules dropped dead in his tracks.
The CCC was a great experience for a young man. We were earning money in the Depression, thirty dollars a month, twenty-five of which was sent home to our parents, five of which we kept for ourselves. My sister mailed back to me the money that was sent home and somehow I managed to spend it. We learned about things like good manners and good habits. It was a healthful environment. Our youthful energies were put to good use, and we gained experience and maturity.
When I left the CCC, the only clothes I had were my CCC underwear and a brown, semi-uniform outfit that they had given us. I got a job in Manhattan in a factory that made paper products, like shopping bags for big department stores. I've had a lot of jobs since then, but I have never forgotten or regretted my time in the CCC. I think that every generation could profit from this kind of experience.
----- Nicholas V. Sawick
LINKS
BACK TO James F. Justin Civilian Conservation Corps Museum Biographies
BACK TO JUSTIN ORAL HISTORY ARMY BIOGRAPHIES HISTORY PAGE
Also Be Sure to Visit
James F. Justin, Civilian Conservation Corps Museum
Justin Museum of Military History
Please Share your Stories! E-mail the Curator to share or discuss or with any questions!
Copyright 1999-2019 John Justin, All Rights Reserved