Submitted by Sunny McComber, Omaha, Nebraska During World War II, all the troop trains in my area were greeted—lovingly—by the ladies of North Platte, Nebraska, at the North Platte Canteen train station with cakes, pies, cookies, doughnuts, coffee, and TLC, as this precious young cargo headed for embarkation points. Grocery shelves were often nearly empty, and the American women had to be creative in the kitchen. I don’t know who came up with this cake, but I was 6 years old during the attack on Pearl Harbor and 10 when Omaha Beach was stormed. In those four years, my mother made a lot of “stuff.” This cake was a favorite. My mother was especially “creative” and called many meals “succotash” because it wasn’t determined just what was in it—leftovers, for sure, and the base was almost always elbow spaghetti—now more commonly known as macaroni—or egg noodles. It’s funny—but not really—as …