I have visited more than seventy countries, not counting the U.S. or Canada. Some of these I visited while I was in the United States Navy, so Nelina didn’t see all of them.

When I was a youngster at Carroll District #8, we used a large book in our Geography and History classes. It had six or seven full-page colored pictures of places all around the world which I would dream about, hoping to see some day. History and Geography generated in me a passion for travel. After Nelina and I were married, I discovered that she had this same addiction. As a result, we never needed much of an excuse to go almost anywhere. Being self-employed, and always having capable help, we could always be ready on very short notice. “Thank you, brothers, Milo and David.”

Since Nelina and I were always interested in the Holy Land we decided to surprise my folks, who were on this same trip, by joining them in Beirut, Lebanon. They went by ship, we went by plane. Dr. Free was aware of this secret surprise and cooperated as we arranged our meeting. The reunion took place as we were standing on the dock and greeted my parents loudly with a Dutch phrase. They were surprised and happy to see us. The seas were rough for their voyage and they experienced some seasickness, so solid ground for them was welcome indeed.

We saw all the usual tourist attractions around Jerusalem and Jordan, Syria and Lebanon. We also visited Dr. Free’s “dig” at Dothan. Israel and Jordan were still at war, so Dr. Free did not take the party into Israel. We said goodbye to our folks and crossed “no man’s land”, carrying our own baggage. It was a weird experience because we could see soldiers above us in bunkers with rifles. This was 1954 and accommodations were marginal. It was interesting for us to see with our own eyes the rivers, seas, mountains and cities that we had often read about in the bible. We took several rolls of pictures. Back home we enjoyed sharing them with small groups. Nelina is a beautiful soloist and often sang, “I walked Today Where Jesus Walked” as we showed slides of the Holy Land.

We returned home through Holland and met Grandma Hoeven’s only brother whom she had not seen for more than fifty years. They were surprised that we could understand them in their native tongue. We took them out to dinner but Uncle Cor hesitated about going out since in all his life he had never eaten in a restaurant.

Our relatives shared with us their wartime experience in Holland during the German Occupation. One of their relatives, a young boy, hid under the bed during a German search. The Nazi soldiers found him and they never saw him again. This was a very difficult time for our relatives and for the entire population of Dutch people.

Vester and Ester Dick moved to Santa Cruz the same day we did. He was a commercial photographer and soon set up a successful operation in his garage. He heard about a need in Nigeria, Africa, as a mission photographer. Vester was a missionary kid who had been born in China. He had a great burden for the lost in all nations. When news came of the need for his services in Nigeria, he closed his business and took his family to Lagos, Nigeria.

Why am I adding so many words about the Dicks at the start of out trip with the Krafts? Reason one: The Dicks became very special friends. Reason two: Vester died just a few weeks ago as I write this.

Back there in 1957 we made plans to visit the Dicks after a few stops in Europe. After studying our maps, we found that it was very little farther to continue east and go around the world to California and home. We won’t go into the problems of improper visa signatures. They eventually proved to be a blessing because we visited other missionaries on that trip. Vester and Ester were waiting for us at the Lagos Airport with a rented car. We enjoyed seeing their work with the African Challenge magazine published by the Sudan Interior Mission. As I wrote this section of my memoirs I learned that our traveling companion, Roy Kraft, died very suddenly in his sleep. I have often asked people, “Who (aside from your parents) had the greatest influence on your life?” Nelina and I agree – that would probably be Roy and Jeanette Kraft. Roy was a great preacher because he didn’t get all messed up by going to seminary and learning Greek and Hebrew and then trying to explain to us Iowa farm boys what each syllable of the original Middle Eastern languages meant. Roy spoke to the worshipers where they lived. As we and his family look back on his life and ministry, there is a great satisfaction in knowing that the thousands who heard and accepted the Lord through his ministry will multiply through an ever widening circle of reproduction until the Lord returns.

After Roy’s funeral Nelina and I wrote to Jeanette and her family to express our condolences. Following the salutation we added:

We cannot give you any new thoughts or assurances which you do not already know, and I don’t have all the answers how this is going to work out, but believe that you will again know Roy and live in a dimension that is beyond our wildest dreams, where there will be no more sorrow, pain or sickness. Wow! What a future!

Nelina and I always give funds through the Gideons for ten Bibles in memory of friends who have gone to be with the Lord. May we close this letter with a song?

Think of stepping on a shore… and finding it Heaven
Of taking hold of a hand… and finding it God’s hand
Of breathing new air… and finding it Celestial air
Of feeling invigorated… and finding it immorality
Of passing from storm and tempest… to an unbroken calm
Of waking up… and finding yourself home.

Yes we have lost another friend, but only for a while.

Sincerely,

Nelina and Vic Bogard

Those who live in the Lord never see each other for the last time.

While in South Korea we visited my cousin Ben Sheldon and his wife Amy, missionaries in Andong, with the Presbyterian Board. They showed us many sights in their adopted country which the average tourist never sees. We worshipped in the Young Nak Presbyterian Church which, I understand, has one of the largest congregations in the world.

A young Korean named Edwin Kang made our acquaintance. Ben Sheldon told us he was trying to go to the United States for further study. Ben was of a different opinion. He felt that Edwin had sufficient training and could help with their work at once.

A short time after we returned to Santa Cruz, this bright lad was at out door early one morning. We told him he could stay in our home for one week. Later that morning I was going to fly our plane to Monterey. He gladly accompanied me. The plane had dual controls, so I let him fly for a short time. I also showed him how to drive a pickup truck.

At dinner that evening he was very slow in coming down to eat. Since he had just arrived from Korea we assumed that he was resting.

“No”, he told us, “I was writing my friend. I told I’d been in the U.S.A. less than a day and I piloted a plane and drove my first car.”

Edwin Knag still keeps in touch with us. He trip to the United States is a real success story. He went to a Presbyterian seminary on the East Coast, spoke Japanese fluently, and returned as a missionary to Japan. He has married a lovely lady and has two sons who are in professional work today. The last I heard from him he was doing missionary work among the Japanese people in South America. We have found that many Asians have great determination to succeed. To quote Edwin in the letter to his friend about the United States: “This is one great country!”

We both drove vans with minimum accommodations. As I re-read Nelina’s journal on this trip I see that nearly every day she wrote, “Rain today”. This did not hinder us, however. We’d unite the two vans and put a tarp over the opening and cook out under the cover. We kept a portable potty inside. Each evening we would play cards or other games.

Bill had done considerable planning ahead for this trip. He told us that a short side trip to Dawson City was a must. This proved to be a wise move, inasmuch as there is a considerable amount of interesting history in that city.

I have often enjoyed reading poems of Robert Service. Among them are, “The Cremation of Sam McGee”, “The Shooting of Sam McGee”, and others. Service’s home in Dawson City is now a small museum. College students read poetry during the afternoon visits. If you enjoy his poetry, I would recommend that you visit the Robert Service museum in Dawson City.

While waiting to board, the passengers are treated graciously. All kinds of goodies and drinks were spread before us. Everybody was in a good mood for the flight.

After leaving the ground, the angle of climb is so severe you can hardly walk forward. The plane needs only 20 minutes to reach 60,000 feet above sea level. When it passes mach 1.00 the air passing over the plane sounds different. I anticipated that there would be some vibration but there was none. The Concorde’s oval windows are about 4”x 6”. As you look through windows across the aisle you can see the curvature of the earth. And when passing from daylight to darkness, traveling eastbound, night descends so quickly one would think that someone turned out the lights.

These fascinating statistics were presented to passengers:

Speed: Mach 2:00- 2:04 OR 1,480 miles per hour
Altitude: 60,000 feet above sea level
Time: 3 hours and 20 minutes to span the Atlantic Ocean
Supersonic time: 2 hours and 29 minutes
Temperature on the nose cone: 260 degrees

Our landing at Heathrow was so smooth the passengers applauded loudly. The pilot soon came on the public address system and said, “Thanks for the applause. I cannot take any credit for it. However, I did set the headings when we were about fifty miles out and the automatic pilot landed the plane”.

What an enjoyable experience it was.

Two museums especially offered remarkable displays of collected artifacts. One is “The Armory” in Moscow, which holds some of the costliest treasures in the world such as gold plates, crowns, bushels of diamonds and pearls, and the largest collection of chariots used by Kings and Queens of the world. In front of “The Armory” hangs the largest bell in the world.

The other museum, called “The Hermitage”, is in St. Petersburg. This former winter palace of the Czars now houses the greatest art collection on earth. As a Dutch farm boy from Iowa I never studied much art, so I could not appreciate fully the beauty we beheld. However, I did take note that the buildings were absolutely spectacular.

While in the former Leningrad I asked our guide to direct me to a book store where I could buy a book on the life of Vladimir Lenin written by a Russian and translated into English. I stood in line to be waited on. Then I stood in another line to purchase Lenin’s biography. When it came time to pay, I learned that the price was eight rubles but I only had six. So, I took out a Traveler’s Cheque but was informed that the clerk could not cash it in the bookstore.

At that I sort of threw my hands up in frustration. Suddenly a young, 18-year-old girl stepped up and asked, “May I help you?” I told her about my dilemma and she quickly said. “I’ll get it for you.” Upon returning, I handed her a $10 bill U.S., which was worth about 50 rubles. “Oh, no!”, she exclaimed. “This is my gift to you.”

Nelina got her address and told her we would send her some books from the United States. She told us her name was Irine Polinskya. I’m sure some readers have heard this tale before, but bear with me. There might be another part of the story you haven’t heard.

Irine’s address was misplaced and I had forgotten that I gave her my business card. Some time later we received a letter from her telling about some of the problems in her country. She included comments about the spiritual and moral decay in Russia. Nelina was pleased to have Irine’s address. Now she could go out and buy the books she had requested.

We discussed the possibility of buying her a ticket to come to the United States. Pan American Airways informed us that, indeed, it was possible to pay for the ticket in the United States and have Irine pick it up at the airport in St. Petersburg.

Gathering together the passport, visa and letters to the Russian government was the easy part. Approval from her parents was harder. Her mother remained reluctant to send her young daughter half way around the world to visit two old people in the United States. When we went Irine our family picture which included 18 of our clan, her mother put her stamp of approval on the visit because, she said, we looked like “such a noble family”.

I can’t go into all the “O-o-ohs” and “Ah-h-hs” Irine expressed when she was here. If you must know, ask me. I enjoy telling it. Irine was with us for a month. We took her to all the local sight including San Francisco, our cabin in California’s Gold Country, a trip to Disneyland and other attractions in Southern California. After a month she returned home with a suitcase filled with electric toys for her brother and clothes for herself.

While Irine was visiting us we invited the Russian professor at University of California at Santa Cruz to dinner to discuss a U.C. scholarship. He told us later, “You don’t have an average Russian girl – Irine is brilliant. However, scholarships are difficult to obtain.

About a year after Irine returned home she inquired about procedures to obtain a scholarship. Since she didn’t have a degree she would have to be present to take an entrance exam. Again we made it possible for Irene to return to the United States. Nelina and I spend about six of the winter months in Palm Springs, so Peggy and Vic. JJr. Suggested that they take on the responsibility of caring for Irine. Peggy did a good job of mothering Irine for more than a year.

Our Russian friend took the exams and Stanford University offered her a four-year, “Full Ride” scholarship taking Irine through to her Ph. D. Her date of completion of her thesis was scheduled for December 1999. In the meantime, Irine married a young Russian at Stanford and made several trips to Europe to conduct research. Her parents (both engineers) received a permanent visa to move here also, along with her younger brother, Peter (also brilliant). He received a “Full Ride” scholarship to the University of Berkley. Irine and her husband now have a son they named “Itzy” (Issac). She told us she is planning to write a book entitled, “May I Help You?”

Don’t we live in a great country?

Because of my job on the ship, the cutter Duane, I had the keys to the brig and became quite well acquainted with Wolfgang, the German officer we captured. He spoke English very well. For a man just pulled from the frigid Atlantic, he still displayed a sense of arrogance that was hard to comprehend. He made no secret of his loyalty to Hitler and being a Nazi. We exchanged address but were out of contact for 43 years.

Nelina and I enjoy traveling the world and looking up old friends and acquaintances. On several occasions during our travels we tried finding Wolfgang , but the part of Berlin where he lived had been destroyed and the streets renamed. Finally, I called a German Consulate in San Francisco. The staff said there was an agency in Germany that offered a service of looking up individuals who were being sought by others.

We soon heard from the agency with a note stating they had forwarded my letter to him. If Wolfgang wished, they said, he could contact me. We soon received a letter telling us he was planning a trip around the world, stopping for a few days in Japan to visit his son, and then traveling on to meet us in Santa Cruz.

Inasmuch as Life magazine had made the sinking of the German Sub one of their featured articles, with photographs in the June 7, 1943 issue, Nelina suggested notifying the periodical and informing the editors about this upcoming reunion. Wally Trabing, a columnist for the local Santa Cruz Sentinel News, heard about this meeting and suggested he and I have lunch.

After asking many questions, Wally suggested he write an article before Wolfgang arrived and then another article after he attended our first meeting. Wally’s ability to verbalize the questions and answers were outstanding in his article.

The following is taken from the May 25, 1986 issue of The Sentinel. These are answers by Wolfgang to Wally’s questions:

As a result of the explosion of Depth Charges, the batteries cracked and poisonous gas began to form inside the Sub. As the boat rose to the surface, many sailors escaped by riding bubbles to the surface. “We were certain that the enemy would open fire on us. When the boat surfaced, I certainly didn’t expect the Americans to stop their ship dead in the water and pick us up. We would never have done this.”

The two articles are too long to share fully here. Wolfgang did try to explain how it feels to “pop up” out of the water, knowing you are 600 miles from land and dead-center in the sights of your enemy’s guns.

I had many questions as well regarding that trip and about life in the German sub under attack. Most of Wolfgang’s answers were given with single syllables and very vague. Finally he said, “I don’t like to discuss it”. He added, “I put my life on the line for Hitler. He deceived us. I lost my only two brothers. It should have never happened.”

Wolfgang’s stay in our home was a pleasant visit. He told us that after the war he worked for the Siemens Corporation and lived in New York for seven years. His best friend in New York turned out to be Jewish.

When speaking about spiritual matters, Wolfgang did not agree with the claims of Christ. I gave him two books, “Mere Christianity” and “Surprised by Joy” – both C.S. Lewis. Upon arriving home he wrote a letter of thanks and added, “The books I shall treasure and read very thoroughly. Maybe they will enlighten me and change my belief.”

One month later a letter dated 8-28-86 arrived with the following paragraph:

In the meantime I perused the book by C.S. Lewis. I am sorry, but he did not catch me. According to him I am a lunatic, as he says on page 50, if I don’t agree with him.

When we visited the Verlohrs in Hamburg the following year they were very hesitant about showing us any of the historical sites relating to World War II. We expressed a desire to see “The Eagle’s Nest”, often referred to as an engineering marvel, digging through rock to build a road and an elevator to the top of a mountain to make a small retreat for Hitler. Wolfgang told us it was deteriorating badly and not worth seeing. He did show us some other museums and interesting sites.

On the last day, Nelina tried to direct his thinking toward eternal concerns. She reminded him that it was through the providence of God that we were sitting there together. “I think God has a plan for you”, she said. Wolfgang sort of shrugged and reached for another cigarette. We knew our visit was over. We have not heard from him since.

Afterwards we traveled to Ramsteim Air Base to visit my brother Calvin who was an Air Force Chaplin there. When we arrived he asked if we had seen “The Eagle’s Nest”. We told him about our experience with Wolfgang, to which he replied, “It may be one of the most interesting places to see in Germany. It is a view that must be seen because it cannot be described.”

Nelina was eager to return, even though the extra mileage would take us two more days. So we decided we would save it for the next trip. But we have never gone back.

I have given the names of Peter and Pauline Day as a heading for this section for a good reason. Forgive me, but what happened provided a most interesting side trip.

When you want to have lunch in Great Britain the most popular places are small pubs along the country roads. We stopped at an attractive pub and went inside. I wanted to order a 7-UP, or something similar, to go with my lunch. I had been having trouble making people in Great Britain understand what I wanted to drink. The tables in this pub were small and close together. I came back to our table complaining to Nelina about “these Englishmen who can’t understand their own language.”

A couple sitting next to us overheard my grumbling. When I told them of my problem the lady said, “Why, that’s ‘Fizzy Lemonade’”. Peter and Pauline Day offered other tips that day about ordering food in England. Before we parted, they invited us to join them at their table. This was the beginning of a valuable friendship. You can’t list friends on a financial statement but friends are by far among one’s most valuable assets. I told the Days that we were scheduled to catch a plane from the South Hampton Airport to Jersey for a two-day visit.

“Call us when you return,” they said, “and we’ll go out to dinner.”

After returning from Jersey we checked into our hotel and phoned the Days. Peter said, “I’ll be right over to fetch you.” Instead of going out to a restaurant, we were amazed to find that Pauline had prepared a delicious English meal for us. What a wonderful evening we had in their home. On the following day, we had tea in a cute little teahouse at New Park, an area where many horses are permitted to run wild.

Afterward, the Days accepted out invitation to come to California. I sent Peter a book by their own countryman, C.S. Lewis titled, “Mere Christianity”. During our discussions in their home, Peter raised questions about creation vs. evolution. Later, when he visited us in our home in Santa Cruz he told us, “After reading the book by Lewis I’m about seventy percent on the way.”

The Days were in our home over Easter 1985, so we went together to a Sunrise Service at the Duane Davidson home. Duane spoke about the resurrection as he stood on the edge of a steep hill and ended his message by shouting loudly, “He is risen!”

Later that morning Pastor Marv Webster spoke at the regularly scheduled church service. His dynamic message focused on the same theme – “He is Risen!” Peter didn’t disagree with anything he heard and seemed to be very moved.

On the following day we took out motor home affectionately called “The Bogie”, to our cabin, to Yosemite National Park, to Palm Springs, to Disneyland, and many other interesting sites. The evening after visiting Disneyland we again talked about spiritual matters. I said, “Peter, what hinders you from accepting the Lord and becoming a Christian?” Immediately he answered, “Not a thing.” The claims of Christ were presented, he made his confession, and I congratulated him as a brother in Christ.

The next day, as our friends prepared to leave for England, Nelina and Pauline went shopping in a very exclusive area in Los Angeles. Suddenly a horrible thing happened. Pauline found “a ladder in her tights.” This meant “a runner in her nylons.”

My knowledge of English grammar increased dramatically during the visit to America of our new friends.

While the girls were out shopping I challenged Peter, “Let’s read a chapter from the Epistle of Paul to the Romans on the first of every month at the same time of day and then write each other a letter. We’ll do it for the next 15 months. On the last day as we read Chapter 16, Nelina and I will come to England and read the last chapter together in C.S. Lewis’s house at ‘The Kilns’.” We read Paul’s Epistle to the Romans as planned, but we didn’t go to C.S. Lewis’s house for the reading of the final chapter.

I challenged Peter to share his newfound faith with his friends in England. He assured me that the Brits take their “religion” very personally and don’t spread it around “like you Yanks.”

What a pleasant two weeks we enjoyed – and all because I wanted to order a 7-UP.

Following is a letter from our friends written in 1988 to help us celebrate our 50th wedding anniversary:

Pauline & Peter Day

Wishing Well Cottage

South Gorley
1938 1988

Victor and Nelina Bogard

A Story of Making Friends – with apologies to Robert Service

‘Twas in the summer of ’84, we worked for an Arabian Sheikh. We toiled as guardians to his sons, our fortunes so to make. But they were very difficult, so spoilt and rude were they that we gave in out notice and gladly sped away.

Mid-day in deepest Somerset the weather can be hot. We dallied at a wayside inn, a drink and lunch we got. Just then into that crowded bar a massive stranger strode and by his side a lady fair, a tapestry she sewed.

“Two Seven-Ups, please,” I heard him say. His voice was strong but low.

The barmaid looked quite blank at him. “That drink I do not know.”

I got up quickly from my chair, these people I must aid. For they are from home. I said, “It’s fizzy lemonade.”

“Oh, thank you, ma-am,” the stranger said, “I sure have trouble here. Nelina wants a bite to eat, and I don’t like your beer.”

“Let me help you, sir,” I said. “Now tell me, what’s the matter?”

He said, “What’s a Ploughman’s Lunch, and what’s a Fisherman’s Platter?”

My husband Peter then joined in and soon we all made friends. And we were anxcious to be nice, for the beer to make amends. “I’m just a farm boy from Iowa,” said the stranger tall and wide. “I’ve traveled through the British Isles, with Nelina by my side.”

“It’s been great to know you and I’ll tell you what I’ll do. When we come back from Jersey, we’ll come and meet you.”

We thought that was a great idea. A hotel we would book and planned how we would bring them home, and what good food I’d cook.

And sure enough, they kept their word, to Bournemouth they did come. And visited us, and talked and talked. Oh, it was all such fun!

And thus began our friendship with those folk we love so well Victor and Nelina, there is so much more to tell… Of how we went to Yankieland and met them both once more, the holiday of a lifetime, all California we saw. Oh yes, we love them dearly, there’s still more we could say but time is short, so that’s all for now…

Happy Golden Wedding Day!