438th AAA AW BN
APO 527 % Postmaster, N.Y.
England
24 February, 1944 1345
Dearest darling Wilma -
I’ve really been a different sort of fellow since I heard from you concerning the possibility of our becoming engaged. I’ve felt close to you up to now, dear, but just the thought of being engaged to you makes me feel so much more attached to you. I wrote my folks and told them what I had in mind and how I felt about you. I know they’ll be heartily in favor of it. So the big question is your folks. I’ll not write them until I hear from you in answer to my letter of a couple of days ago.
This morning, dear, it was beautiful outside. There was a good sky and a fairly strong sun. The air was still ‘twangy’, but there was just the earliest suggestion of Spring to it; it was the kind of morning we used to look for our baseball mitts and start throwing ‘em around. I took a ride to the Station Hospital where a couple of our men are. The countryside looked so fresh and clean. Gee wouldn’t I love to have had you to go walking with or riding with! I got back at noon, ate, and after a few things were taken care of – I started this letter.
In one of yours, which I received a few days ago – you mentioned an incident about a Jewish nurse named Aronson. I remember the name because I had a patient by that name who died – by the way – following an operation for an ovarian cyst. She was extremely fat and a poor surgical risk. Dr. Finnegan operated and I assisted. She died from a condition called paralytic ileus – which means the bowel distends and refuses to work. It occurs occasionally after an op. and more usually in old, obese people. Anyway – this nurse was related to her. I didn’t know she lived in Salem – and I don’t know why she should wonder if I were married. I’m not worried about rumors, darling, because in this case it’s no rumor. Anyway, you should have told her you were going to marry me – and that would have taken care of the matter.
By the way – you mention a “Valentine” gift. Now, darling, I never used the word “gift” as I remember. I said ‘trinket’. However – I do think of you, Sweetheart, all the time, and if anything I send you makes you realize that, I’m glad. I don’t think I mentioned to you that I’m sending you copies of the Stars and Stripes – our daily newspaper. We were under the impression that it was not allowed to be sent. I heard last week that is was permissible. From point of view of news, it will be late, of course; but I thought you might like to look over a paper that’s printed solely for soldiers. I also enclosed a rather quaint map of London which I got on one of my trips. It’s laid out in streets and gives you a perfect idea of what London is.
I don’t know, dear, what letters of mine you have found ‘changed’ – for I don’t feel that way. If I haven’t written, darling, how lonesome I’ve been – it’s not because I’m still not so – terribly so. As a matter of fact I’m glad that some of my letters sound somewhat free of that spirit. I can assure you, dear, that if I wrote you exactly how I feel sometimes – it would only make you unhappy.
Sweetheart – in reference to your question as to how much I’m telling you – and how – etc. – believe me, dear, I’m telling you all I can. If I tried to tell you more – it would only be censored. The fact is that there’s practically nothing that has occurred since my arrival here that you don’t know. By now you should have figured out about when I arrived and where. You also ought to have guessed what our mission has been so far. Have you? Beyond that – there’s not a darned thing that’s really secret. The whole country is so small that to localize one’s self is really unnecessary – even if allowed. Did you get a card from me recently, by the way? If I ever change significantly, dear, you’ll probably be aware of it in one way or another – although a space between letters is not necessarily indicative of that – as you now know.
Well, darling, that’s about all for now. The Colonel’s coming over this p.m. and we’ve got to get ready for him. This is the Army, you know. Solong for now, then, dear, and you have
I’ve really been a different sort of fellow since I heard from you concerning the possibility of our becoming engaged. I’ve felt close to you up to now, dear, but just the thought of being engaged to you makes me feel so much more attached to you. I wrote my folks and told them what I had in mind and how I felt about you. I know they’ll be heartily in favor of it. So the big question is your folks. I’ll not write them until I hear from you in answer to my letter of a couple of days ago.
This morning, dear, it was beautiful outside. There was a good sky and a fairly strong sun. The air was still ‘twangy’, but there was just the earliest suggestion of Spring to it; it was the kind of morning we used to look for our baseball mitts and start throwing ‘em around. I took a ride to the Station Hospital where a couple of our men are. The countryside looked so fresh and clean. Gee wouldn’t I love to have had you to go walking with or riding with! I got back at noon, ate, and after a few things were taken care of – I started this letter.
In one of yours, which I received a few days ago – you mentioned an incident about a Jewish nurse named Aronson. I remember the name because I had a patient by that name who died – by the way – following an operation for an ovarian cyst. She was extremely fat and a poor surgical risk. Dr. Finnegan operated and I assisted. She died from a condition called paralytic ileus – which means the bowel distends and refuses to work. It occurs occasionally after an op. and more usually in old, obese people. Anyway – this nurse was related to her. I didn’t know she lived in Salem – and I don’t know why she should wonder if I were married. I’m not worried about rumors, darling, because in this case it’s no rumor. Anyway, you should have told her you were going to marry me – and that would have taken care of the matter.
By the way – you mention a “Valentine” gift. Now, darling, I never used the word “gift” as I remember. I said ‘trinket’. However – I do think of you, Sweetheart, all the time, and if anything I send you makes you realize that, I’m glad. I don’t think I mentioned to you that I’m sending you copies of the Stars and Stripes – our daily newspaper. We were under the impression that it was not allowed to be sent. I heard last week that is was permissible. From point of view of news, it will be late, of course; but I thought you might like to look over a paper that’s printed solely for soldiers. I also enclosed a rather quaint map of London which I got on one of my trips. It’s laid out in streets and gives you a perfect idea of what London is.
I don’t know, dear, what letters of mine you have found ‘changed’ – for I don’t feel that way. If I haven’t written, darling, how lonesome I’ve been – it’s not because I’m still not so – terribly so. As a matter of fact I’m glad that some of my letters sound somewhat free of that spirit. I can assure you, dear, that if I wrote you exactly how I feel sometimes – it would only make you unhappy.
Sweetheart – in reference to your question as to how much I’m telling you – and how – etc. – believe me, dear, I’m telling you all I can. If I tried to tell you more – it would only be censored. The fact is that there’s practically nothing that has occurred since my arrival here that you don’t know. By now you should have figured out about when I arrived and where. You also ought to have guessed what our mission has been so far. Have you? Beyond that – there’s not a darned thing that’s really secret. The whole country is so small that to localize one’s self is really unnecessary – even if allowed. Did you get a card from me recently, by the way? If I ever change significantly, dear, you’ll probably be aware of it in one way or another – although a space between letters is not necessarily indicative of that – as you now know.
Well, darling, that’s about all for now. The Colonel’s coming over this p.m. and we’ve got to get ready for him. This is the Army, you know. Solong for now, then, dear, and you have
My sincerest love
Greg.
* TIDBIT *
about Censorship in WWII
about Censorship in WWII
The censors were sensitive to two important areas in World War II. First, they didn't want a soldier to say anything that would be of value to the enemy. Second, it was considered very important in wartime for officers to know about morale issues.
Of primary importance, both at home and overseas, was the secrecy of where and how strong the troops were. "Loose lips sink ships" was a common phrase in WWII. Here are a few posters for both the soldiers and the folks back home:
The soldiers were all given guidance on what they could say, so one might think they would know how to avoid getting their mail intercepted, but not all did. From "Loose Lips Sink Ships: Eyewitness to History" comes this excerpt from a document given to soldiers entering a battle area:
Finally, although no taboo was mentioned in the ten prohibitions listed above, the censors confiscated letters that used graphic language dealing with sex. Some senders would keep having their letters confiscated, never receiving any notice of the offense. Sadly, letters written in foreign languages by immigrants or the children of immigrants, more comfortable communicating home in their native language, usually were not delivered because the typical censor didn't know what they said.
While the main purpose of censorship was to keep information from the enemy, reading the outgoing mail also provided military officials with information about the beliefs and behavior of the troops, especially complaints and misconduct. Officers were watching for any weakening of desire among the troops. Morale reports by intelligence personnel censors included remarks about Army food, military leaders, furlough policies, entertainment facilities, race relations, mail service, popular rumors and enemy propaganda. Censors classified and tallied comments reflecting the soldiers' collective state of mind, giving a range of opinions, emphasizing the most common ones. This was done in an anonymous fashion although the authors' rank, division and APO were identified. Through this intelligence officers could track shifts in soldiers' concerns and attitudes over the course of the war.
The enlisted soldier was censored by an officer in his unit, and the officers were self-censored. They didn't have anyone looking at their mail regularly, although the higher level staff or base censors would randomly check officers' letters to keep an eye on them. Officers seemed to say more in their letters, possibly either because they knew better what was allowed or because they knew their mail often was not censored.
Of primary importance, both at home and overseas, was the secrecy of where and how strong the troops were. "Loose lips sink ships" was a common phrase in WWII. Here are a few posters for both the soldiers and the folks back home:
The soldiers were all given guidance on what they could say, so one might think they would know how to avoid getting their mail intercepted, but not all did. From "Loose Lips Sink Ships: Eyewitness to History" comes this excerpt from a document given to soldiers entering a battle area:
THERE ARE TEN PROHIBITED SUBJECTS
1. Don't write military information of Army units -- their location, strength, materiel, or equipment.
2. Don't write of military installations.
3. Don't write of transportation facilities.
4. Don't write of convoys, their routes, ports (including ports of embarkation and disembarkation), time en route, naval protection, or war incidents occurring en route.
5. Don't disclose movements of ships, naval or merchant, troops, or aircraft.
6. Don't mention plans and forecasts or orders for future operations, whether known or just your guess.
7. Don't write about the effect of enemy operations.
8. Don't tell of any casualty until released by proper authority (The Adjutant General) and then only by using the full name of the casualty.
9. Don't attempt to formulate or use a code system, cipher, or shorthand, or any other means to conceal the true meaning of your letter. Violations of this regulation will result in severe punishment.
10. Don't give your location in any way except as authorized by proper authority. Be sure nothing you write about discloses a more specific location than the one authorized.
2. Don't write of military installations.
3. Don't write of transportation facilities.
4. Don't write of convoys, their routes, ports (including ports of embarkation and disembarkation), time en route, naval protection, or war incidents occurring en route.
5. Don't disclose movements of ships, naval or merchant, troops, or aircraft.
6. Don't mention plans and forecasts or orders for future operations, whether known or just your guess.
7. Don't write about the effect of enemy operations.
8. Don't tell of any casualty until released by proper authority (The Adjutant General) and then only by using the full name of the casualty.
9. Don't attempt to formulate or use a code system, cipher, or shorthand, or any other means to conceal the true meaning of your letter. Violations of this regulation will result in severe punishment.
10. Don't give your location in any way except as authorized by proper authority. Be sure nothing you write about discloses a more specific location than the one authorized.
Finally, although no taboo was mentioned in the ten prohibitions listed above, the censors confiscated letters that used graphic language dealing with sex. Some senders would keep having their letters confiscated, never receiving any notice of the offense. Sadly, letters written in foreign languages by immigrants or the children of immigrants, more comfortable communicating home in their native language, usually were not delivered because the typical censor didn't know what they said.
While the main purpose of censorship was to keep information from the enemy, reading the outgoing mail also provided military officials with information about the beliefs and behavior of the troops, especially complaints and misconduct. Officers were watching for any weakening of desire among the troops. Morale reports by intelligence personnel censors included remarks about Army food, military leaders, furlough policies, entertainment facilities, race relations, mail service, popular rumors and enemy propaganda. Censors classified and tallied comments reflecting the soldiers' collective state of mind, giving a range of opinions, emphasizing the most common ones. This was done in an anonymous fashion although the authors' rank, division and APO were identified. Through this intelligence officers could track shifts in soldiers' concerns and attitudes over the course of the war.
The enlisted soldier was censored by an officer in his unit, and the officers were self-censored. They didn't have anyone looking at their mail regularly, although the higher level staff or base censors would randomly check officers' letters to keep an eye on them. Officers seemed to say more in their letters, possibly either because they knew better what was allowed or because they knew their mail often was not censored.
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