EYE DOCTOR PENS MEMOIR OF WAR
By Kevin Robillard, Correspondent

Watertown TAB & Press, MA
Aug 2 2007

WATERTOWN, MA – As an optometrist, Dr. Jacob Baboian has spent more
than 50 years treating people’s eyes. But as a musician, he – and
his children – have been pleasing people’s ears.

The 82-year-old Baboian, born and raised in Watertown, retired from
his optometry practice in May after 57 years "even though some of my
patients didn’t like the idea," he said.

Before becoming an optometrist, Baboian wanted a career in music,
but decided to go into optometry for the financial security, he said.

Then in the mid-1950s, he joined the Waltham American Legion Band. He
contacted Dot Hill, the band’s director, and he joined the band as
a euphonium player; a euphomium is a valved brass instrument similar
to a tuba.

"He was one of our best musicians," said Bill Eckerson, the band’s
former president.

Baboian shared his love of his music with his children. His son,
John Baboian, is now a professor of jazz guitar at the Berklee School
of Music in Boston who also plays trombone and tuba in the American
Legion Band. His daughter, June Baboian, is also a musician.

While with the Legion Band, the Baboians were able to travel to the
Soviet Union in 1990 and participate in a May Day march. While there,
they met a youth band from Armenia, their ancestral homeland, said the
younger Baboian. Armenian music began to play, and the two Baboians
joined the youths in dancing.

Later, as the band marched through Red Square, playing American music,
Jacob Baboian heard the cheering and had a realization.

"We marched in the streets of Moscow," he said, "They loved it. We
could see the handwriting on the wall that the Cold War would be over."

He graduated from Watertown High in 1943. Before graduation, he
was drafted by the Army to serve in World War II. Initially, he was
selected to serve in the Army Specialized Training Program, meaning
that he would attend college while still in the Army, according to
his World War II memoir, "The Combat Rifleman." After attending both
Rutgers University and the University of Delaware, he was sent off
to war.

"After D-Day, they need more recruits," Baboian said, "and the college
guys turned out to be them."

While in Europe, he served as a scout and a sharpshooter, starting
out as a private, first class. He and his friend, Roy Leach, served
as scouts. Together, they had more than a few close calls. As a reward
for surviving them, the two were treated with a pass to Paris.

"It was unusual. After living in foxholes, we were living in a hotel
between clean sheets," Baboian said of his and Leach’s time in Paris.

Upon returning to their unit, Leach and Baboian discovered that the
two infantrymen who had stood in for them had both been killed. This
allowed Leach to be promoted to squad sergeant, and for Baboian to
become buck sergeant. Shortly thereafter, Leach was killed and Baboian
became squad sergeant.

Three months later, in early March 1945, Baboian’s squad could see
the twin spires of the Cologne Cathedral in the distance, beckoning
them. Baboian would never make it to the spires.

He was hit by German shrapnel, damaging his head, hand, both legs
and chest. Fortunately, a steel mirror that his parents had sent him
for Christmas and that he kept in his pocket prevented one piece of
shrapnel from piercing his lungs.

As a result of his injuries, he had a metal plate inserted into his
head and had surgery on his hand. The surgery on his hand tied all the
nerves in his hand together, allowing them to heal and also giving
Baboian a unique sensation: anything his thumb feels, all the other
fingers also feel, he said.

Baboian was awarded a Purple Heart and a Bronze Star, following in
the footsteps of his father, Charles Baboian, who served in World
War I and was also awarded a Purple Heart after he was hit by German
bullets five days before the armistice.

After leaving the army, he was able to attend the New England College
of Optometry with the help of the G.I. Bill. He first practiced out of
his father’s house, but was able to move into his own office in 1958,
he said.

But Baboian said his friends from the war are dying off. They used
to meet up in packs of 50 or 60, and their numbers are now down to
the 30s. Baboian himself now has health problems and is in and out
of Massachusetts General Hospital, he said.

Still, John Baboian doesn’t his expect his father to change much in
his old age.

"He is a creature of habit," the son said, noting that when his dad
drives to his condo in Old Orchard Beach, Maine, he takes the same
routes and stops at the same places along the way. "All the waitresses
know him."

Info box ‘The Combat Rifleman’ For information on Dr. Jacob Baboian’s
memoir, "The Combat Rifleman," call 617-923-9182.