31 October, 2011

31 October 1944

438th AAA AW BN
APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.
Germany
31 October, 1944       1530

My dearest darling Wilma –

I don’t recall ever having used the expression before, but anyway – Happy Halloween, dear. I didn’t know whether I’d get a chance to write you or not today, but here I am at B battery, having arrived here about half an hour ago. All is quiet at the moment, and I found myself alone and with the opportunity to write. I had waited around all morning for the money to come in so that I could pay off the men, but I got tired of waiting and took off.

Yesterday was a banner day, sweetheart, with 2 letters from you, one from my Father, one form Nin Feldman, one from my nephew Steve and one from Stan Levine. The latter told me of his marriage – but in no detail except to say they spent a week at Atlantic City and were now back in Washington; Steve wrote a nice letter thanking me for a German helmet I had sent him and telling me about Latin School. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out who Mrs. Irv Feldman was – but it was once I began to read the letter. It was sweet of her to write and I enjoyed very much hearing from her. I’ll answer her letter soon.

Your letter of 16 October interested me a great deal, darling. Despite the fact that it happens over and over again – I am nevertheless amazed at the coincidences of our discussing the same subject at about the same time. I don’t remember the exact date that I wrote you, but I’ll bet it wasn’t far off from the 16th when I told you how I felt about your going out, hanging around etc. At about the same time – you must have been reading my mind, dear, because you tell me in no uncertain terms – almost as if you were refuting what I had written – how you feel about such things – and you couldn’t possibly have received my letter at that time. Concerning that letter, by the way, darling, I’m sorry I wrote it, but I had received a whole string of ‘blue’ letters from you and was feeling kind of low myself, I guess. I loved to read what you had to say about dating, going out etc., – and I believe you, dear. You must excuse what I wrote – but much as I’d hate it – I’d rather have you go out – than to feel you were becoming stale or stagnant. You have never implied that, dear, but I would rather anticipate such a condition than to let it occur actually.

You are correct in you observations about my folks, sweetheart; whatever their faults are – one of them will not be interference in our lives. If we ever want advice – I think we’ll have to ask for it. If anything – my mother – in particular – leans over backwards in that respect and I think that is unusual for a man’s mother. Anyway – as I’ve said before, darling, being in Salem will really keep us by ourselves a good part of the time and I think that’s the best way for a newly married couple because if they do have differences of one sort or another – they can usually straighten them out themselves – if they are left alone.

Darling – one of the officers from the Battery just came in and he’s going to show me around the battery. After all – I am here on an inspection trip. So I’ll stop now, dear; remember that I love you sincerely, sweetheart – and I love to hear you tell me the same. Love to the folks – and for now and always

My deepest love
Greg.

* TIDBIT *

about the Low-Level Attack on Aarhus

This information was extracted from an article titled "Mosquito Terror" that appeared in Britain At War Magazine, published by Green Arbor Publishing in London, Issue 40, August 2010.

Aarhus, a coastal town on the eastern side of Denmark's Jutland Peninsula, was the country's largest city. It was at the university there that the Gestapo had established its area headquarters. The site had become the location of many thousands of documents and dossiers on Danish patriots and resisters – information that was invaluable to the Gestapo's work. Not only did the buildings house the Gestapo, but they were also used as a short-term prison holding a large number of resistance . Of the 4-5 university buildings immediately adjacent to an autobahn, the Gestapo chiefly occupied College No. 4.

On 31 October 1944 a total of 26 de Havilland Mosquitoes from 3 squadrons, led by Wing Commander Reg Reynolds and his navigator, Squadron Leader Ted Sismore, took off from Swanton Morley just after 0900 hours the 1,000 mile flight, 700 of which were over the North Sea.

Each Mosquito carried two long range drop tanks full of fuel and 500 lb bombs fitted with eleven-second fuses. The bomb load of the last wave of attacking aircraft included incendiaries so that once the target had been destroyed the incendiaries would help burn any surviving Gestapo records. The fusing was arranged so that each of the 4 groups of 6 aircraft could drop their load without the risk of being blown up by bombs of their own section, leaving as little time as possible between group attacks.

En route, one of the aircraft hit a bird and had to return to base. The remaining 25 continued on and were joined by another from the RAF's Film Production Unit. They all were escorted by 8 North American P-51 Mustangs from a Polish squadron. The weather that day was ideal for a low attack. The group flew the entire way at about 50 feet, as was usual for this type of mission. They approached the target so low that they were well below the level of the roof and had to pull up to clear it as they released their bombs. They then continued flying as low as possible and at a high cruising speed until well out to sea on the way home.

One airplane actually touched the roof of the university, knocked off half its elevator and tail wheel, and ripped a gash in the bottom of the fuselage, lodging a lump of masonry within. The pilot had spotted a German shooting at them and, trying to silence him with return fire, had misjudged his height.

One of the Mosquito pilots recalled that during his approach he "could see lots of people giving the 'V' sign and waving." He added that "one man, plowing in a field on the way to the target, came to attention and saluted as we passed. Some of the Mosquitoes were less than ten feet above the buildings and I saw a man duck as the bombs from the Mosquitoes ahead of me passed over his head on their way into the building.”

Two bombs from the lead aircraft were seen to go in through the front door, with two further bombs through the two adjacent windows.One 500 pound bomb was dropped by one aircraft and the pilot in the following aircraft saw it strike the side of the building, turn upward as it entered, emerge through the roof and pass over his plane before it came down again.

The attack was estimated to have taken just nine minutes to complete. Squadron Leader Sismore later commented, “The raid was easy to plan and the target was easy to identify. When we left, fire was raging in the shell of the buildings and the result was what the Danes wanted. Altogether, we dropped 24,000 pounds of bombs.” Unfortunately, ten Danish civilians outside of the university were killed. Early estimates of enemy casualties were placed between 150-165 German and 30 Danes killed, most of whom were considered to be informers. Miraculously, most of the prisoners being held in the buildings survived.

Reports from the Danish Resistance on the success of the mission were already waiting when the Mosquito pilots landed back at their base by 1400 hours, just 5 hours after they had left. It was not known at the time but it was later learned that the Gestapo chief for Jutland had called a conference of his subordinates from all over the province and that they numbered 250. With the destruction of their records and the deaths of so many valuable informers and experience staff, the Gestapo in the Jutland Peninsula were practically neutralize for the remainder of the war.

The Film Production Unit was able to make three passes over the target, filming without interruption. Here are two of the photos which resulted:

CLICK ON IMAGE TO ENLARGE

Mustang pulling up after dropping bomb


Results of bomb drop

30 October, 2011

30 October 1944

438th AAA AW BN
APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.
Germany
30 October, 1944       1030

Good morning, darling!

It’s cloudy again but I feel pretty chipper today – for no apparent reason. I had a pretty good night’s rest except for a variety of short dream interludes which ranged all the way from a scene in which I was home and we were all together and I offered to supply the wine for the celebration because I still had some left from Germany – to a little episode which found me awakening and discovering my watch crystal, radio dial and the windows of the room I was sleeping in – all shattered because of some heavy shelling. When I actually awoke – I was disappointed sweetheart, for I would gladly have undergone the latter experience for a chance to spend a couple of hours with you. We don’t have the chance to call our shots, though do we?

Yesterday, dear, the day was broken up a bit by the showing of another Class B picture in the p.m. – “The Crime Doctor’s Strangest Case”. It certainly was a strange case! Anyway – it helped kill a couple of hours. We had a steak supper for a change – the result of some shrapnel killing a well-fed cow. The cow was butchered and trimmed within 2 hours after its untimely death and the meat was passed as good – by me, incidentally. That’s another one of a battalion surgeon’s duties, by the way. In the evening we listened to the radio and I read a couple of case histories in the “New England Medical Journal”. I was in bed at 2115 – pretty early for a Sunday evening. This morning I have a little work to do – which I probably won’t get around to doing until the p.m. Tomorrow I visit B – or Baker battery for 3 days.

There was no mail yesterday, but I was able to re-read your letter of 11 October and laugh again at your “drawings” of pumpkins, weeping willows – and what not! You do have artistic inclinations – don’t you, dear? Your “Autumn Leaves” was really something to see – and had you not labeled it – I know I would have recognized it nevertheless! Keep up the good work – but every now and then, darling, interject a little drawing – without a title, just to see if I can figure it out. O.K.?

And Halloween is tomorrow night and no celebration here that I know of – except for the booming of guns and the noise of Ack-Ack. It’s a long time since I went to a Halloween party – anyway; – probably the last one I attended in recent years – was when I was Resident at the Salem Hospital. I guess that was the last year I was really happy – until I met you, sweetheart, because the next year I was out in practice – and fundamentally, I was always lonesome. And when I finally did meet someone whom I wanted to marry – I had to go overseas – dammit. Oh well – we won’t go into that now. Anyway – we’ll probably open a bottle or two, play some cards – and call it a party.

I was really glad to read that you had finally received 51 pictures. I believe that was all I had. In an earlier letter you had mentioned that one letter containing some photos – had been opened and some removed. I’m glad you were wrong, darling. As for taking close-up pictures – well – I don’t like to pose – and a good many of the pictures I sent you were taken on the spur of the moment and without a chance to project myself into them. If the sun ever gets out and stays out long enough, dear, I’ll take a few – but the chances of having them developed seem pretty slim at this point. By the way did you get one Post-card size picture of my driver and me that was taken by a Belgian civilian? I’m glad you got the “Wilma” snaps – and incidentally – the “Wilma” is now off the jeep – but not for long. An Army Order just out insists that all names on jeeps – be of standard block letters; ours were old English and many others were of all sorts and sizes. As soon as it dries out – we’ll have your name re-painted, dear, in block letters – 3 inches high – and then I’ll have to take another picture, of course. The German Volkswagen has been turned into a trailer and we drag it with the jeep. The motor gave out and anyway it wasn’t too safe in this territory.

Well – here I go again closing up for the morning sweetheart – and reminding you once again that I love you more and more strongly – if that’s possible – darling. Someday I’ll be able to show you how much instead of just writing it – and only then will you really know how much. So – so long for now, dear, love to the folks –

All my everlasting love –
Greg.

* TIDBIT *

about "The Crime Doctor's Strangest Case"


What follows was copied directly from Internet Movie Database Site's review of "The Crime Doctor's Strangest Case" (1943), written by Dorian Tenore-Bartilucci and posted 24 March 2007. Maybe seeing this movie brought on Greg's "short dream interludes".

Dapper yet avuncular Warner Baxter, one of cinema's earliest Oscar winners, is put through his paces in this second entry in Columbia Pictures' "Crime Doctor" series, based on the hit radio series.


Warner Baxter in the Crime Doctor series

Baxter plays the title character, a.k.a. Dr. Ordway, an amnesiac who learned (in the first "Crime Doctor" movie) he used to be a gang leader. Since then, Dr. Ordway's been using his knowledge of the criminal mind to become an in-demand psychiatrist. Baxter's testimony had helped acquit Jimmy Trotter (a young Lloyd Bridges), who'd been accused of poisoning his previous employer.


Lloyd Bridges, 1943

Jimmy finds that even when you're proved innocent, it's tough to find a job when you've got "Accused Poisoner" on your resume. But does Jimmy follow Dr. Ordway's advice and get a fresh start with his new wife in a new town? No-o-o-o! Jimmy grabs the first job he can get, as assistant to a Realtor, only to find himself jobless and the prime suspect when the Realtor dies of poisoning. Dr. Ordway gets involved, and before you can say "It's old Mr. Withers! He wanted to get the land cheap!", he's up to his fedora in wily blondes disguised as brunette cooks, family skullduggery, a would-be George Gershwin who's careless with matches (played for comic relief by Jerome Cowan), and an anxious middle-aged lady (Virginia Brissac) whose freaky dreams may be the key to the mystery.


Jerome Cowan, 1943


Virginia Brissac, 1942

That dream sequence is surprisingly intense, with imagery of silhouetted girls plummeting off cliffs and hanging from nooses; it's almost like a welcome bit of comic relief when a sinister male silhouette holding a suitcase labeled "POISON" shows up! "The Crime Doctor's Strangest Case" may not be "The Maltese Falcon," but Baxter is an ingratiating lead and the flick is an entertaining way to spend 68 minutes.

After multiple twists and turns and surprise connections among the players, Dr. Ordway solved the crime.

This note of trivia was presented on the IMDB site noted above, same page:

In this movie, Gloria Dickson was married to the man (played by Jerome Cowan) who was habitually starting fires with carelessly discarded smoking materials.


Gloria Dickson, 1943

There are two scenes in the movie, including the final scene, in which he started such fires. When describing living with him, her character commented, "I'm practically cremated." Ironically, just two short years after this movie was released, Gloria was killed at the age of 28 in a house fire suspected to have been caused by a carelessly discarded cigarette.

29 October, 2011

29 October 1944

438th AAA AW BN
APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.
Germany
29 October, 1944        1000
Sunday Morning

My dearest darling –

Well – at last the weather has broken and the way I figure it, Germany owes us about forty good sunny days. Yesterday p.m. it really turned out fine and what a foot-ball day it would have been! They don’t re-broadcast the games over here – although in the evening we got some of the half-time scores. I really stayed up late last night, darling, but hell, it was Saturday night! But I was in bed at 2245; that’s at least an hour later than my usual retiring time.

We were over at the Colonel’s place again last night and had a swell game of Bridge. I was on the winning side again and I’m really enjoying Bridge more than I do Poker. We sipped Cognac – all during the game – some of the stuff I got in a recent trip. When we finished four rubbers, we sat around and talked and reminisced. The Colonel was in the class of ’33 at the Point and I guess he saw all the Harvard-Army games I’ve seen. We had a lot of fun ribbing each other.

There wasn’t any mail yesterday and the whole p.m. was a very dull one. I got off my usual Saturday report and worked a bit on our monthly reports which are due in a couple of days. That reminds me – another pay day coming up soon – and I guess I’ll send the bulk of it home. But there now exists a bare possibility of spending some money; they are beginning to give 48 hour passes to Paris and a couple of other cities – but it’s on a rotation system and I don’t suppose my turn will come up unless we’re in for a very long war.

By the way, dear, starting day after tomorrow we, or I, go out again on those 3 day inspection trips to the batteries, which means that I’ll be going out for 3 days – about every week or 10 days for about 4 weeks. It will help break up the time – although it’s somewhat of a nuisance.

Say, I’m sorry I made one set-up look so permanent to you, darling, although we did have the desks etc. It just happened to be the former office of the SS outfit in the town and was therefore quite complete and comfortable. But to move on is what we want most of all, dear, because it’s only that way that we’ll get home soonest. When we stay put for any length of time – as we have been doing recently – we get fed up. You ask me whether my outfit ever gets up to the front lines – and I can’t answer that; I’ll tell you about it after the war, dear. Your reaction to news about AA is understandable, though – because they are used for such diverse purposes and you couldn’t possibly arrive at any definite conclusions. We’ve had all kinds of missions, some good and some bad – but that’s the way with war.

You must have paid more than $1.00 Sweetheart to get such a swell palmistry reading; not that I don’t think you have all those qualities – of course! I know our palms – or what they signify will jibe perfectly – and that thought makes me happy, dear. I’m just waiting for the time we get the chance to “jibe” – so to speak –

Well – that’s all for now, sweetheart – I’ll have to stop now. Hope to hear from you this p.m. In the meantime – so long, love to the folks – and

All my sincerest and deepest love,
Greg

* TIDBIT *

about Another Hahn

Hahn, Germany was described in the 11 October 1944 entry. Although the description was accurate, it was not about the Hahn, Germany where Greg was staying at this time. There is more than one! According to Google Maps, there are six different codes for Hahn in three different regions. The one described in the 11 October entry was the first on the list below. However, Greg was at the third one on the list, just 6 miles from the center of Aachen, while the battle to take that city raged.

CLICK ON ANY IN THE LIST TO SEE WHERE IT IS

Hahn 56472 bei Marienberg, Westerwaldkreis, Rhineland-Palatinate
Hahn 56244 am See, Westerwaldkreis, Rhineland-Palatinate
Hahn 52076 Aachen, City region Aachen, North Rhine-Westphalia
Hahn 65232 Taunusstein, Rheingau-Taunus-Kreis, Hesse
Hahn 64319 Pfungstadt, Darmstadt-Dieburg, Hesse
Hahn, 35236 Breidenbach, Marburg-Biedenkopf, Hesse

Here are some pictures from in and around Hahn
in the City region of Aachen:

CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE

St. Maria Dolorosa in Hahn


Monk Rock outside Hahn
(It does look like a few monks, no?)


Another View of Monk Rock


Farmland of Hahn with leaves changing colors


Farmland of Hahn on a misty day, leaves fallen


Hahn in winter's snow

28 October, 2011

28 October 1944

438th AAA AW BN
APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.
Germany
28 October, 1944        1000

My dearest darling –

Good morning! Another Saturday a.m. – a football Saturday and no game to see over here. The Berkshires must be pretty this week-end, probably the last week before the leaves really start to fall. There are some small hills near here – as a matter of fact – this little village is situated in a valley, but the surrounding foliage is not very pretty, probably due to the fact that there’s been so much rain and so little sunshine. I imagine there must be a good deal of excitement in the States right now – with the election so close. I don’t remember whether or not I’ve told you already, but I voted some time ago – for Roosevelt, Saltonstall and Cahill. I hope Roosevelt is re-elected, although I’m beginning to get a little doubtful about it with the recent Republican trend. Roosevelt’s name is magic over here – and he is feared and respected by the Germans. His defeat would give Goebbels – whom I heard speak last night on the radio, and all the Germans – a tremendous lift – and I hope that doesn’t happen. I listen to William Joyce – the famous Lord Haw-Haw – most every night. He’s quite a speaker; keen, caustic and very often to the point. He keeps hammering away at the British and the fact that no matter who wins the war, Britain has lost it. He may be right. Every program ends with the statement – as a reminder – that we should always keep in mind that the Jews and Roosevelt started the war. I’ll be very happy on the day that I turn on to his broadcast and find him missing. He used to broadcast over Calais 1, Calais 2, Radio Paris, Radio Luxembourg; now it is Bremen, Cologne and Berlin.

Yesterday was an uneventful day – although the early evening was rather exciting and for awhile – worrisome. In the later evening – we listened to the radio and then I went to bed about 2200. I haven’t been sleeping too well of late – for no apparent reason except that I must be pretty well rested.

There was no mail yesterday – and the chances are that from here in, mail is going to be slow so that the APO can concentrate on packages. But I still have a couple of your letters as yet unanswered. Your letter of 10 October again mentions the subject of our future and what I want to do when I get back. Your attitude is certainly encouraging sweetheart and it is comforting to know that you’re willing to let me decide whether I should study when I get back or sail right into practice. Right now I honestly don’t know what I’ll do. A great deal will depend on the advice I get from Dr. Phippen and a few other of the men at the Hospital. But for the time being – I guess I’d better forget about all that and just think about the happy day when I’m actually back home getting married to you.

I’m very happy to read that you’ve started to get my mail again – even if it is in bunches. It certainly peps you up, darling, and the effect is good on me, too.

Oh – oh – here comes a few late patients and I’ll have to see them. I wanted to write a bit more this morning, but I think I’ll knock off now, darling, and then I’ll know this letter is completed. Your continued willingness to wait for me and your good spirit about it is excellent tonic, sweetheart, and I love you for it. I know you won’t be sorry.

Until later, dear, so long, love to the folks – and

My everlasting love
Greg.

* TIDBIT *

about Lord Haw-Haw


William Joyce a.k.a. Lord Haw-Haw

This biography of William Joyce was largely excerpted from the Answers.com website.

Lord Haw-Haw was the nickname of Nazi propagandist and broadcaster William Joyce. During World War II, Joyce broadcast a well-known English-language propaganda show from Berlin, often taunting Allied forces. Though never calling himself Lord Haw-Haw on air, he became infamous among Allied combat troops and British citizens.

Joyce was born in Brooklyn, New York, the son of an Irish father and an English mother on 24 April 1906. When he was three the family moved to Ireland, settling in County Mayo. Joyce was educated at a convent school in Galway. It was here that during a fist fight with another boy Joyce had his nose broken. He kept quiet about the injury and his nose never properly set, giving him the nasal broken drawl so familiar in his later broadcasts from Germany.

The Joyce family was in Ireland at the time of the Sinn Fein insurrections. Because they were Conservative and pro-Union, the family was very unpopular with the rebels. Joyce's early life was marked by violence, including an attack on his father's business and attacks on the family home by Sinn Feiners. When the British Prime Minister Lloyd George announced the Anglo-Irish Treaty of 1921 and the creation of the Irish State, the Joyce family left for England. Joyce was then 15 years old.

As an adult, Joyce joined several radical political organizations, including the British Fascisti at the age of 17. At a Conservative meeting at Lambeth's Bath Hall the following year, a squad of fascists under the control of William Joyce became involved in a fracas with left-wing agitators. It was here that Joyce received the famous scar that ran down the right side of his face from the lobe of his ear to the corner of his mouth. The scar was received during fighting in the meeting and Joyce had no doubt that the perpetrators were "Jewish Communists." This incident had a marked bearing on his outlook. He was reminded of his hatred of "the enemy" every time he looked in the mirror until the day he died.

When the British Union of Fascists (BUF) was launched in 1932, Joyce was quick to join. He made a name for himself as a dedicated activist and a good speaker very quickly. He wrote a series of articles for several extremist newspapers and gained a reputation as a skilled propagandist. He was described as a "brilliant writer, speaker who addressed hundreds of meetings... always revealing the iron spirit of Fascism." In 1934 Joyce was promoted to the BUF's Director of Propoganda. With his savage anti-semitism, Joyce began to alarm some members of the BUF. When asked about Jewish involvement in class war in 1934 Joyce snapped, "I don't regard the Jews as a class. I regard them as a privileged misfortune." It was during this time that the numbers protesting at major BUF meetings increased from a few dozen to a few thousand.

As Joyce gained power in the organization, he became more radical. He used his position as a platform for his deeply anti-Semitic views, blaming most of the era's political and social ills on "Jewish communists." He formed his own political party, the British National Socialist League, in 1937. The party proclaimed brotherhood with the Nazi party in Germany and championed similar causes. Joyce did not attempt to disguise his admiration for Adolph Hitler and Nazi policies. On August 26, 1939, Joyce fled to Berlin, narrowly escaping arrest in Britain under a law that mandated the detention of Nazi sympathizers and political activists.

Shortly after arriving in Berlin, Joyce formally joined the Nazi Party. He took a job working on an anti-Allied propagandist radio show. British journalists were quick to dismiss Joyce's broadcasts and portrayed him a mere stooge. He was dubbed "Lord Haw-Haw" because of his distinct nasal drawl. Listening to Lord Haw-Haw's show was technically prohibited in Britain under a ban on enemy radio, but the show was popular on the British home front. At the height of his influence, in 1940, Joyce had an estimated 6 million regular and 18 million occasional listeners in the United Kingdom. The program drew strong denunciation, but many simply laughed at its absurdity and obviously propagandistic content. On a few occasions, the program managed to frighten listeners with discussions of German saboteurs in Britain and with accurate details of British towns, such as descriptions of belfries and landmarks.

For his efforts Joyce continued to live a comfortable life in Berlin and in September 1944 was awarded the Cross of War Merit 1st Class with a certificate signed by Adolf Hitler. During the final stages of the war, with the Red Army approaching Berlin, Joyce moved to Hamburg. Rambling and audibly drunk, he made a final broadcast on 30 April 1945 – warning that the war would leave Britain poor and barren now that she had lost all her wealth and power in 6 years of war, leaving the Russians in control of most of Europe. He signed off with a final defiant, "Heil Hitler and farewell."

When allied forces moved to occupy the city, Joyce retreated to nearby Flensburg and was captured. He was shot in the leg in the process of trying to escape into a patch of woods. Joyce was turned over to British authorities and detained until he was flown back to Britain as a prisoner. One week earlier, the British government had passed the Treason Act of 1945 in order to prosecute citizens who seriously impeded or compromised the British war effort. The media attention surrounding Joyce's radio program and capture, as well as their portrayal of Joyce as a possible spy, encouraged the government to charge Joyce with treason under the new act. Although the courts could not substantiate charges of espionage, they did convict Joyce of treason based on his broadcasts and voluntary association and cooperation with Nazi officials.

He was adamant and defiant to the end. He showed no emotion when confronted by news and scenes from the concentration camps, blaming the deaths on starvation and disease caused by Allied bombing of communication lines. He also scratched a swastika on the wall of his cell whilst awaiting sentence. His last public message reported by the BBC was "In death as in life, I defy the Jews who caused this last war, and I defy the powers of darkness they represent." He was not yet 40 years old when executed by hanging on 3 January 1946. He was buried in an unmarked grave in the grounds of the prison.

27 October, 2011

27 October 1944

 
438th AAA AW BN
APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.
Germany
27 October, 1944         1100

Dearest sweetheart –

Friday morning and a quiet day I hope. When I say “quiet”, dear, I refer to my own inactivity and not to noise. The latter is something that doesn’t bother me very much any more – and darling, you’ll be able to scold the children as often as you want and I won’t even look up.

Yesterday I wrote you in the morning, as I remember it; in the early p.m. I took care of a couple of routine details and then I got to thinking that my detachment ought to have a radio – one of its own. I’ve been using mine here – but there are times when the officers live in one house and the medical detachment in another. Time hangs heavy for them too. In my various wanderings – getting my own radio fixed, I came across a Signal Company Corporal who had a re-built G-I radio. He wouldn’t sell it but was willing to swap it for a pistol. I was tempted to give him the one I just got – but it’s too good a souvenir, so instead I chased around yesterday and bought one for $30.00 and got the radio for it. The officers and med. detachment then pitched in and it came to only $3.00 per man. We have a swell radio and now we have almost continuous music, day and night.

Greg's radios may have looked like these
WWII-era Zenith short and long wavers

CLICK ON PICTURES TO ENLARGE

  

On the whole this detachment of ours is pretty well equipped with extra conveniences etc. compared with other divisions in our outfit. For example – we have 4 kerosene lamps and the kerosene to run them and kerosene lamps are impossible to get. You just have to know how to go about it. There I go bragging again – so excuse me, dear. But the army is a funny place – and you usually get only what you go after; nothing or very little is handed to you – but then, life as a whole is like that too.

In the evening – we drank some wine at the Colonel’s quarters and played some more bridge. At game’s end I was ahead 2 marks, but the rubbers were all close ones. Previous to that I received another letter of yours – 7th October and one from my brother-in-law – Irv – of the 16th – the best time in a long while. Your letter interested me a great deal, darling; that was the one in which you apologized for about 2 weeks of ‘blue’ letters and blamed it on Lois’ influence. I’m glad it was due to her. I couldn’t describe it exactly, but your letters were a bit different – and as you must know by now – the letters I wrote in answer – were anything but gay, and I know I wrote some things I didn’t mean. I believe I’ve already mentioned that, dear, and I know you understand.

You mention also – in that letter – that it was 11 months since we’d seen each other and that you didn’t think it would be that long. I did, dear, because I knew how long it takes a big Army to get things done. I have never actually tried to crystallize in my mind how long we’ll be separated, darling, but I’m always prepared for the worst – and anything better than that – is a gift. I’m happy you feel the same way I do about the immediate post-war status we may find ourselves in – I mean the fact that I may be in the States and still in uniform. Darling – I’ll want to get married – regardless of the uniform. As a matter of fact that would be a lot of fun – because married officers in the States have a swell time and we wouldn’t have anything like expenses and rent to worry about. Well that’s another thing we’ll have to wait for.

Say I hadn’t even thought about a gift for Stan; it just hadn’t entered my mind – but by all means – we ought to get them something. Now I do want to do this together – but only on the condition that I pay my share. I insist on that, dear, and I want you to tell me and I’ll send you a check – and don’t give me that stuff about your being a working girl! Get them whatever you think is right, dear, send it from us and that will be that.

Again it’s time to eat, dear, and by the way – won’t it be swell when we’re together and having our meals together and talking things over? Gosh there are so many things I’m looking forward to – simple things – but things I’m missing so much now – All for now, sweetheart; my love to the folks, and

All my sincerest love, dear
Greg.

* TIDBIT *
about The Signal Corps


Signal Corp Regimental Emblem

From Lone Sentry comes this information about the Signal Corps.

When Allied forces began their final advance across Germany, the course of operations caused single Armies to spread over hundreds of miles of territory. The Signal Corps' intricate system of communications was extended more than ever before. During these operations, First Army staff officers were in constant touch with all activities by high-power radio stations capable of transmitting and receiving messages over distances of more than 100 miles. Stations were mounted on jeeps and operated by the 17th Signal Battalion.


Signal Corps Jeep

As American lines advanced, liaison officers went forward to maintain a running description of the fighting. Messages were encoded by radio operators and transmitted to Command Posts. The high antennae carried with jeep radio stations often were added danger to radio operators. Easily visible, they drew artillery fire to such an extent that on several occasions officers demanded jeeps be drawn away from the vicinity of troops and installations.

One of the most interesting developments in field radio was the construction of a powerful 60 kilowatt mobile radio station. Called "Sigcircus," this mobile station had all the facilities of a fixed station of comparable power and was completely self-sufficient. It was equipped with broadcast and radio facsimile transmission facilities in addition to the normal message-handling radio-teletype channels. The station could also make recordings on wire, film and disc and carried its own Signal center complete with radio teletypes for simultaneous sending and receiving between Europe and the United States.

In addition to its primary mission, the Signal Corps also was charged with the responsibility of maintaining and repairing the equipment necessary to do the job, along with Signal Intelligence work and the processing of V-mail. The tremendous task of repair and maintenance of Signal Corps radio, telephone, teletype, cryptographic, radar and other types of equipment demanded that repair companies operate a system of workshops at Signal Depots as well as send crews of skilled technicians out into the field to keep front line equipment functioning. Thousands of Signal Corpsmen, many of whom came from similar jobs in civilian life, kept the equipment working.

Signal Intelligence, using the latest developments in radio, intercepted enemy transmissions and obtained information invaluable to field commanders in their tactical planning. Little known to the millions of GIs and civilians using the V-mail service was the fact that the Signal Corps was directly responsible for the laboratory processing of this handy form of personal mail. Working with the Army Postal Service, Signal Corps V-mail laboratories were set up in London, France and Iceland and rapidly photographed and printed incoming and outgoing V-mail on a scale that reached several million individual letters per day.

The success of American air and armored forces, the close liaison that carried all troops to victory was due in a large measure to superior Signal Corps equipment, developed specially for each branch and arm of the service.

Their expertise also contributed to the morale of at least one unit - the 438th AAA AW BN Medical Detachment and it's Battalion Surgeon, Greg.

26 October, 2011

26 October 1944

438th AAA AW BN
APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.
Germany
26 October, 1944       1300
My dearest fiancée –

Today – so far at any rate – has been quiet and peaceful and so here I am right after lunch, and ready to write to you. Yesterday i.e. – last night was a good one – we got some mail and I got 4 swell letters from you, a nice one from Bea, one from the Salem Hospital and one from Lawrence. Lawrence’s birthday is today, by the way – but I’ll bet he’s not celebrating; 3 days in camp – a soldier is pretty green. He wrote me that he had renewed my subscription to Time Magazine, sent me a box of Phillies De Luxe, for which he apologized, and asked me if I needed anything else. That was pretty thoughtful of him – considering he had enough of his own affairs to look after.

I enjoyed Bea’s letter too and the way she describes her household is really funny to read. I think we’ll enjoy visiting with them; don’t you dear?

One of your letters, sweetheart, was an old one from Sept 14th; it must have been misplaced in some APO or other because it was the only old letter in today’s delivery. You were really worried in that letter, dear, having listened to Gabriel Heatter the night before. Darling – you shouldn’t let these g-d’d commentators affect you so; by now you should realize that every one of them – including the so-called best – have been wrong on several occasions. They all stuck their necks out on when the war would end – and how it would end. You can see by now that they apparently know no more about things than you or I or millions of other like us. They’ve guessed and they’ve guessed wrong. Therefore I wouldn’t believe anything they say as gospel or even approximating it. We can draw our own conclusions, I think, on what the post-war world will be like. I don’t think there’s a decent working plan in anybody’s mind right now; I think life in the United States won’t be too bad for awhile because there’s bound to be a lot of work. From what I personally have already seen of destroyed cities and towns – it seems as if the whole world will be busy with re-building. I saw a city yesterday of the size of Springfield or Worcester, Mass.; I spent a good part of the day there, enough time to tour the whole city; there was not one street, one house, one business building, cathedral, museum, theater house that was not leveled. I had seen in France – a village or medium-sized town leveled – but I didn’t believe it was possible to destroy a city so completely. The same is happening to other cities in Germany and more is coming. The same has happened to cities in England. It will take years to re-build because they’ll have to start from zero. I’m not worried about the immediate post-war world, dear – and why should we look ahead now – farther than that?

I was very much interested in your remarks about my wanting to be a surgeon. I’m sorry I’ve groused so much about the subject – but you do realize, I know, that I can’t help but get moody now and then and I know also that you must excuse me for it. I have so damned much time to think. I end up thinking about everything – particularly things that affect us in the future – and that is one matter that indirectly will affect us, dear – i.e. the manner in which I make my livelihood. There have been times when I’ve had time only to consider my immediate safety, and the human mind is really a wonderful mechanism when it lets you forget such things and makes you bitch about the future. The fact is, sweetheart, that the most important and prime factor is that I return home safely. If I thought of that more often – I wouldn’t worry so much as to whether or not I’ll be a surgeon. I have so damned much to be thankful for – I should kick myself for complaining. I have – at present – so much more than a lot of other MD’s who didn’t finish their internships, or who hadn’t got started in practice, or who didn’t have a hospital appointment or who didn’t have some darn good contacts – or – and what is most important of all – who don’t have a swell girl waiting for them. So, darling, I’ll try to remember all those things – and I’ll worry about just how I provide for you – later. One way or another I feel pretty certain that I can take care of you – and that is what counts fundamentally – that and the fact that we know we love each other and want each other. We’ll figure out the details when I get back.

Now I think I’ll sign off for today, dear, and do a couple of things. I owe Charlie Wright and Col. Pereira letters. The latter is on maneuvers in Louisiana again and hates it. Charlie is at Fort Dix and not too happy.

All for now, darling; love to the folks and

All my deepest love
Greg

* TIDBIT *

about Gabriel Heatter
Commentator



Gabriel Heatter
Photo courtesy of Alfred A. Knopf via Old Time Radio

Extracted from Old Time Radio (© 1996-2006 James F. Widner) and Wikipedia comes this:

This child of immigrant parents was born on the east side of New York City on September 17, 1890 and moved to Brooklyn soon after. His mother woke Gabe and his brothers Max and Edward every day at 5AM to deliver baskets of food to poor people in the neighborhood (at that early hour so the people wouldn't be embarrassed by being seen to accept charity). For the rest of their lives the boys always woke up at 5AM. Heatter did not do well in school and found high school particularly difficult. Despite that, he had an ability to speak well as he was very interested in reading and the world around him. At 16 he became a sidewalk campaigner for William Randolph Hearst when Hearst ran for mayor of New York City in 1906. Despite the candidate's loss, he had an influence upon the young Gabriel.

His interest in journalism was piqued. Soon after high school, the young man began working as a reporter of social functions for a local weekly, The East New York Record. From there, he moved onto the Brooklyn Times. While still employed at the Times, he was offered a position as the Brooklyn reporter for The New York Evening Journal, a Hearst publication. His career as a journalist was solidifying.

In 1931, he wrote an article for The Nation magazine reasoning against the Socialist Party's existence in the United States. The appearance of the article prompted a New York radio station, WMCA, to offer him a chance to debate a prominent Socialist on the air. However, the Socialist was unable to show, so Heatter went on discussing his article in more depth. Listener's were impressed and WOR, a Mutual outlet offered him a position as a commentator and reporter, which he accepted now realizing his future was in radio news. In 1933, his big break came when WOR assigned him to report and comment on the Bruno Hauptmann/Lindbergh Baby Kidnapping-Murder Trial, the trial of the century at the time. This gained him national fame as his reports influenced public opinion greatly. Other better-known reporters of the time were there including Walter Winchell. His audience expanded again when in 1934, WOR became the flagship station of the newest network, Mutual Broadcasting. Perhaps the most difficult aspect of covering the trial was when, in 1936, he had to report on the execution. It was delayed, forcing Heatter to continue ad-libbing while awaiting word of when it would occur. His professionalism under pressure and his ability to keep the audience informed without resorting to sensationalism earned him critical praise.

With the coming of World War II, Heatter continued to report and comment on the day's events as war broke out over Europe. When the US entered the war and as times grew darker and darker, the news was simply not good. Finally, after the US sank a Japanes destroyer, Heatter came on the air reporting "Good evening, everyone---there is good news tonight." This became a catch phrase and prompted many letters and calls. Heatter continued to use it throughout his career as he became known more and more as a morale booster always looking for some patch of blue to include in the news. When the war finally ended, first in Europe and then in Japan, there were probably millions who would not have believed it until they heard it from Heatter. Indeed, his broadcast upon V-E Day is still considered a classic of radio commentary. He was just as influential upon coming generations of journalists as were more dynamic radio figures such as Edward R. Murrow. Eric Sevareid, Walter Winchell, Drew Pearson, and Fulton Lewis, Jr.

Heatter remained with Mutual until, like many of the Depression and wartime broadcasters and commentators, his influence gave way to a newer generation of broadcasters - those who made the transition to television, or started in TV bypassing radio entirely. By the 1960s, Heatter was all but retired.

The paradox was that this national comforter - and, in an apparent rarity for public figures, a man devoid of scandal - may have needed an awful lot of comfort himself, as Heatter admitted when he wrote in due course that one secret to his uplifting style was that by trying to pick himself up, he seemed able to pick others up as well. Insecure to the point of tears in moments alone, Heatter as often as not could barely compose himself when a stranger said hello to him or praised him; he was unable to eat what was put in front of him at formal affairs and often tucked a carefully wrapped sandwich of his own to eat; as much as he loved dog stories and his own dogs, strange dogs on the street terrified him; he was fortunate to have a wife and family who understood and supported him and never seemed to have assailed or criticized him for the insecurities his listeners would never have believed.

At the height of his fame, when he was getting a huge amount of fan mail, the post office delivered many letters that were simply addressed "Gabriel Heatter," without an address... and even one envelope that had no words on it, just two small pictures: the angel Gabriel blowing his horn; and an electric heater, radiating warmth.

That Gabriel Heatter was a powerful force in American broadcast reporting is unquestionable. He did not have all of the dramatics and dynamics of Edward R. Murrow, but Heatter's approach to newscast and commentary was an influence on reporters to come. After his wife's death, Heatter lived in retirement with his daughter until he died of pneumonia in 1972.

25 October, 2011

25 October 1944

438th AAA AW BN
APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.
Germany
25 October, 1944         1600

My dearest sweetheart –

As A. Sheridan said when she was accused of shirking on her Pacific Army Tour, “I should have stayed in bed.” All I’m trying to say, dear, is that I’ve been on the ‘go’ again all day today and have just come in. When I say I’ve been busy, don’t get me wrong, darling; most of the time it has nothing to do with sickness or injuries. It was so in today’s case and yesterday’s, too. You remember I wrote you yesterday that I was working on a deal to get some wine for the officers. Well it worked out – so well in fact, that I went back again today and got 3 times as much. All this is legitimate, by the way, darling – but it is not always apparent where the stuff is procurable. I happened to find out. Not only that but I managed to get hold of a dandy pistol – which I want only as a souvenir, of course. In this war – medical officers in this theater are not authorized pistols, although if you get one – it is permissible to carry one. Actually the Geneva Convention laid down the rule that medical officers may carry a pistol for self defense – in case of a crazed, armed soldier. I’m not worrying much about that and probably won’t wear this one, but they are hard to get and some of the line officers have paid as much as $50.00 for a pistol. Mine was given to me as a gift in return for a favor.

All this must sound a bit mysterious, sweetheart. I can’t help it – because at the present time that’s all I can tell you. I’ll tell you more – later.

Pictures from Greg's ordered trip to Aachen.

CLICK ON PICTURES TO ENLARGE

"Aachen - This cafe is not serving beer these days."


Cafe Vaterland is serving beer again these days


"Aachen - This house has sun-exposed bedroom as result of heavy
shellings and bombing. Note GI ammo boxes near tree."


"Aachen - Music Building"


Theatre Aachen Today


"Aachen"

In the meantime, and what is more important, I received your letter of 7 October and it was swell reading what you wrote – even though the subject matter – as it was the first time you mentioned it – was still confusing. I refer again to the “lovelorn” subject which it seems I took seriously, dear. I can see now that you didn’t mean it to be – but honestly, when you first presented it to me in writing, I thought you were and really couldn’t see why. I’m very happy to read that you didn’t pay much stock in the article – because actually I knew you’re far too intelligent and sensible for that. But I completely misinterpreted the whole thing and I must have really sounded off. I, too, don’t remember exactly what I wrote but I certainly didn’t mean to imply that I doubted your love and sincerity, dear; if anything – I was afraid of the opposite – and it just goes to show how a string of words can be misleading. The fact is, darling, that we do love each other and no other; we believe each other and we’re both sincere. If we would always remember that – we wouldn’t write things implying otherwise – and even if we did, we wouldn’t believe it. So I’m warning you, dear, no matter what you write – I believe only that you love me and want me to marry you! One more thing, dear, whether I sounded angry or not, I was not and I hope I never write a letter to you that sounds that way.

Well – now that that is clear – I can go and get my supper. We’re moving our eating hours ahead more and more and we now eat at 1645 – which makes a kind of long night – the kind of night I’m looking forward to having with you – over and over again. These are a little bit different, though – believe me –

All for now, my darling, until tomorrow. Be well, send my love to the folks and for yourself keep
All my sincerest devotion
Greg

* TIDBIT *

about Accusing Ann Sheridan


Ann Sheridan, 1944

Greg must have read something like this article, dated October 23, 1944, from Time Magazine:

Army and Navy - MORALE: Short Circuit
Monday, Oct. 23, 1944

Months of jungle misery had made G.I.s in the China-Burma-India (CBI) Theater a sensitive audience. Mere days of it also had their effect on some already sensitive big-name cinema stars. By last week the resulting strain was enough to rupture the CBI Theater's U.S.O. circuit, send sparks flying from New Delhi to Hollywood.


Sheridan hugs a soldier with a captured Japanese flag
In Burma, 1944

First sign of trouble came fortnight ago when Roundup, CBI's official, irrepressible G.I. weekly, complained that all too many soldiers were being disappointed by needlessly broken entertainment schedules. Citing cases Roundup said that Joel McCrea, "large, husky, over-six-foot male," called off his announced 60-day tour in Cairo when he heard that "CBI is tough." Paulette Goddard left the theater six days early when she "reportedly was taken ill." Pledged to 120 days on the CBI circuit, Joe E. Brown "suddenly remembered a previous engagement in North Africa . . . decamped after 37."

The final straw was added, said Roundup, when Ann Sheridan came home from a sharply curtailed visit, saying she didn't ever want to go back. Her reason: "It's too rough."

Prior Commitments, Enceinte Wives. Declaring that soldiers have a right to grumble "when entertainers show up with hammy routines that would get yawns at a free-dish matinee in Springfield, Ohio, and then dog it after a month or six weeks," Roundup's editors did so:

"These selfless patriots who, incidentally, are well fed, clothed, housed, transported and paid by the Army and the U.S.O., discover in a couple of weeks that CBI is hot, wet, full of mosquitoes and they suddenly develop prior commitments, serious ailments, enceinte wives . . . spend, in the case of Sheridan . . . and Co., a total of 35 days out of a promised minimum 60, pick up a little money and a lot of publicity and sneak back to the United States to recuperate from the whole horrible ordeal."

Hollywood Howl. When the complaint reached the U.S. last week, the indignant stars set up a howl of their own. Actress Goddard insisted that she had "played all but three days when I was ordered to bed by the Army physician." Comedian Brown, who has an outstanding record of devotion to soldier entertainment and whose soldier son was killed in a plane crash, angrily retorted that he "did all a 53-year-old man could do." The Hollywood Victory Committee blamed broken promises on Army snags, added that Ann Sheridan and Joel McCrea had both been, held up by lack of transportation.


Mary Landon, Ann Sheridan and Ruth Dennis
in China, 1944.

Taking up for herself, Actress Sheridan went even farther, offered to "fight boy fashion, no holds barred," with anybody who thought she had dogged it. In a letter to Roundup's editor, she claimed that her tour was made at considerable personal sacrifice, added: "I'm wondering if your wife, sweetheart or sister has bucket-seated her way 60,000 miles . . . at better than a thousand miles a day, playing even two bad shows, eating C-or K-rations more often than hot groceries, much of it standing up, and then when it's littler girl's-room time, go down to the men's toilet and wait till it's cleared so that the girl troupers may use it.

"And by the way," she added, "how long has it been since you left that swivel editor's chair to ride the Hump?"

24 October, 2011

24 October 1944

438th AAA AW BN
APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.
Germany
24 October, 1944       1100

My dearest darling –

If I don’t write too boldly, the sun which is out now, may stay out. It’s been a long time now since we’ve seen the sun – and it certainly is a welcome sight.

I wrote you late yesterday p.m. dear, and even later than that I received a couple of your letters – and they were good to see, believe me. In the evening, I played Bridge – and won 28 marks – and this morning I have already seen a movie. Sick call was very light and I went over to see the show because I’ll be too busy this afternoon to see it. When we have a movie – it is usually put on twice – early morning and early afternoon. The one this morning was “The Adventures of Mark Twain”. It was good – although the last half seemed to drag somewhat. This p.m. I’m going on a little mission – the result of which may be twenty or twenty-five bottles of some nice Rhine wine. That’s as much as I can tell you now, darling. If I get it, I’ll write you about it in the morning.

Something new is being added to warfare, by the way. A recent announcement from higher headquarters is that they are gong to give the boys 24-hour passes and open up a couple of cities in the rear. Hitherto – every city and town has been “off limits to troops” – and the only reason I’ve managed to get to so many is because I just go and the M.P.’s never stop me. I don’t think these passes will apply to officers – but even if they did – I don’t see any point in them. There’s really nothing to do and everyone has to be off the streets at dark – and it’s dark at 1830.

Your letter dated 5 October reminds me of the enthusiasm I expressed at the liberation of some of the Belgian cities. I really was enthused, as I think of it now. The situation here in Germany is so much different. Instead of enthusiasm we now have a feeling of compensation, or satisfaction at seeing German homes leveled for a change, and German civilians lugging stuff along the main roads, in wheel-barrows, on bicycles and all sorts of conveyances. To date I haven’t had the slightest sensation of pity – and I'll have to see a lot more before I’ll soften. The few Germans I’ve spoken with ask innocently why it is the Americans hate them; they wonder if all Americans hate them and they say that after all, the Americans declared war on the Germans. Can you imagine such crassness! You have actually to hear it, to believe it! And all of them, by the way, “hated” Hitler and are “glad” that we’ve come to deliver them. Such bunk I didn’t believe possible – but that’s what we’re meeting.

Oh – I’m glad you managed to get that Wilson flag. I wondered whether some censor might grab it. It’s really an interesting relic. Some Belgian or other was waving it madly in a small town we were passing through, and as our jeep slowed down – she threw it into the car. I grabbed it because it was the only one of its kind I had seen – although I’ve seen a half-hundred other styles of American flags.

And it was not a Count at whose Castle we stayed, sweetheart; he was an honest-to-goodness, bona fide Prince and she was a Princess! The title was Prince of Mèrode and they were both very charming – see? In the same letter, dear, you say you’ve received a total of 31 pictures. I do hope you got some more, because that makes about 19 missing. I now have 3 more rolls, still undeveloped; I’ve seen a good many things worth photographing in the past couple of weeks – but there’s been no sun out.

Well, darling, here it is lunch time again and time to go. The days are sneaking by, one by one, dear – and whether we seem to be going swiftly now or not – it’s one less day we have to wait. I’m happy that you feel you can wait it out. I know I can – and some fine day we’ll get married and forget all about war. Just think how wonderful it will be to see you all the time and know that you are mine for always. It seems so far away now – but it will come!

So long for now, dear and love to the folks.

My deepest love, Sweetheart
Greg.

* TIDBIT *

ORDERS!

The orders speak of bringing food from Aachen to Hahn, but clearly the intent was something different altogether! Perhaps some food was picked up with the wine...

CLICK ON IMAGE TO ENLARGE

23 October, 2011

23 October 1944

No letter today. Just this:

* TIDBIT *

about "Noblesse Oblige"

 
This article appeared in Time Magazine on 23 October 1944.

Blue blood has flowed as red from Britain's war wounds as any other kind of blood. For Britain's peers understand one prerequisite for those who would rule a democratic empire—they know how to die for it. Of all England's foreign wars, World War I took the heaviest toll of blue blood. World War II's toll may be even heavier.

Latest aristocratic casualty is Lord Stuart, youthful heir to the Earldom of Castle Stuart, who died on the Italian front. Two years ago his elder, brother was killed in North Africa. Other aristocrats who have died in World War II:H.R.H. the Duke of Kent, 39, brother of King George VI. He was killed in an airplane crash, flying to Iceland (1942).

The Duke of Wellington, 31, sixth of his line, who was also a Netherlands prince, a Spanish grandee, a Portuguese count. He was killed in Italy last year. To a mess steward who doubted his identity, the Duke once explained: "It's the same name so many pubs have."

The Marquess of Hartington, 26, eldest son & heir of the tenth Duke of Devonshire, owner of a 20,000-acre estate, husband (for four months) of ex-Ambassador Joseph Kennedy's daughter, Kathleen. He was killed in France a month ago.

The Earl of Suffolk and Berkshire, 35, 20th of his line, who succeeded to the title as a child after his father's death in World War I. A man of many parts (Australian sheep rancher, sailor before the mast, rare-books collector, scientist), he became one of Britain's leading bomb-disposal experts, was blown to pieces (with seven of his staff) by a bomb three years ago.

Lord Lyell, 30, posthumously awarded the Victoria Cross for valor in North Africa last year. Lord Lyell lived as a Scottish laird, died in a bayonet grapple inside a German gun pit. He was the first peer to win Britain's highest award in World War II, the fifth ever to win it.

Lord Shuttleworth, 26, captain Royal Artillery, killed in action last year. The third Baron Shuttleworth, he was also the third of his family to die in battle. His father was killed in World War I; his brother was killed in the Battle of Britain.

Lord Clive, 38, a direct descendant of Cliveof India. One of the tallest men in the House of Lords, he sat there as17th Baron Darcy de Knayth, a peerage created by Edward III. A fighterpilot in the R.A.F., he was killed last year.

Lord David Douglas-Hamilton, 32, son of the 13th Duke of Hamilton, Scotland's No. 1 peer. A boxer who captained Oxford, he married Prunella Stack (Britain's "Perfect Girl"), with whom he toured Britain preaching physical fitness. Their son, born in July 1940, was a "perfect boy." Last August, Squadron Leader Douglas-Hamilton was shot down, killed.

Sir Robert Peel, 21, sixth baronet; ordinary seaman, Royal Navy. A descendant of the famed British Prime Minister who founded the London police force, he was drowned when Japanese planes dive-bombed and sank his ship in the Indian Ocean two years ago. His mother, comedienne Beatrice Lillie, learned backstage of her only son's death, went on with her show. She inherited his fortune of £150,000.

While the U.S. had no such aristocracy, it did have Hollywood Stars and Sports Stars risking their lives for their country. Only one, Glenn Miller, did not make it home alive. Here is an (admittedly) incomplete list of actors, producers, writers and athletes who served in WWII. Some were famous before they served, and others earned their fame only after the war.

Eddie Albert,USN, Well decorated for service in the Pacific
James Arness, US Army, Rifleman
Desidero A. Arnez, US Army-Special Services
Gene Autry, USAAF, flying over the Burma Road
Lew Ayers, Anti-war but served as a medic in the US Army in the Philippines
Robert "Bob" Barker, USN F4U Pilot
Richard Boone, USN TBF Flight Crewman
Ernest Borgnine, USN in 1935 serving 10 years, 4 in combat
Mel Brooks, US Army, Combat Engineers, Mine clearing and deactivation
Charles Bronson, USAAF - 25 combat missions
Raymond Burr, USN
Red Buttons, USAAF Cpl
Frank Capra, USAAF-FMPU Col
Art Carney US Army, Wounded on D Day
Gower Champion, U.S.C.G.
Julia Child, OSS
Lee J Cobb, USAAF-FMPU Cpl
William Conrad, USN F4U Pilot
Jackie Coogan, USAAF Glider Pilot; CBI theater
Jackie Cooper, USN
Bill Cosby, Navy, Gunners Mate 3rd Class, Honorary Chief Petty Officer
Joseph Cotten, USAAF-FMPU
Robert Cummings,USAAF, Flight instructor.
Tony Curtis, USN, Submariner
Sasebu "Sabu" Dastigur, USAAF B-24 Gunner
Jim Davis, U.S.C.G.
Joe Dimaggio, Baseball star, USAAF, Special Services
James Doohan, US Army
Kirk Douglas, USN
Eugene "Gene" Evans, US Army Sgt.
Douglas Fairbanks, Jr, USN, Worked with British Commandoes
Peter Falk, Merchant Marines
Norman Fell, USAAF B-25 Gunner
Bob Feller, Baseball star, USN, Combat in the Pacific
Henry Fonda, USN
Glenn Ford, USMC, Camera crew from Normandy thru Europe.
John Ford, USN - FMPU Capt.
Larry Forrester, RAF Fighter Pilot
Clark Gable, USAAF, Too old to be a pilot but went on many combat missions
George Gobel, USAAF B-26 Flight Instructor
Arthur Godfrey, U.S.C.G.
Walter Grauman, USAAF B-25 Pilot 12th AF
Hank Greenberg, Baseball star, USAAF, Captain
Dashiell Hammett US Army Signal Corps
Red Harper, U.S.C.G.
Mitchell Healy, USAF Lt Bombardier
Van Heflin, USAAF-FMPU Lt
George Roy Hill, USMC F4U Pilot
Tom Harmon, USAAF, Burma Road, MIA for 30 days, WIA
Sterling Hayden, USMC, With the Yugoslav partisans
Van Heflin, US Army, Artillery officer
Charleton Heston, USAAF, Gunner on Bombers
William Holden, USAAF-FMPU
Tim Holt, USAAF Lt B-29 Bombardier
Dennis Hopper, U.S.C.G.
Ralph Houk, Baseball star, US Army, Tanks in Europe
Rock Hudson, (Roy Fitzgerald), USN
Russell Johnson, USAAF Lt Bombardier
Ken Kavanaugh, USAAF, Bomber Pilot
William Keighley, USAAF Command Staff 8th AF
Brian Keith, USN, Rear Gunner
Gene Kelly, USN, Documentaries for the Navy.
Ralph Kiner, USN, Bomber Pilot.
Arthur Kennedy, USAAF-FMPU
George Kennedy, USAAF Armed Services Radio
Norman Krasna, USAAF-FMPU
Alan Ladd, USAAF-FMPU Sgt
Arthur Lake, U.S.C.G.
Burt Lancaster, US Army Special Services
Tom Landry, later a Football Coach. USAAF after his brother was KIA
Harold Livingston, USAAF C-46 Pilot 8th AF
Joe Louis, Heavy-Weight Boxing Champ, US Army, Special Services.
Jock Mahoney, USMC F4U Pilot Instructor
Karl Malden, USAAF Cpl 8th AF
Lee Marvin, USMC, WIA.
Walter Matthau, USAAF SSgt 8th AF; 435 BG
Victor Mature, U.S.C.G.
Kevin McCarthy, USAAF Sgt
Ed McMahon, USMC, Flight Officer instructor
Harold McNear, USN
Gary Merrill, USAAF B-24 Air Crew
Ray Milland, USAAF Flight Instructor
Glenn Miller, US Army Maj Special Services (KIA)
Cameron Mitchell, USAAF Lt Bombardier
George Montgomery, USAAF FMPU
Robert Montgomery, USN, On PT boats and Destroyers
Clayton Moore USAAF FMPU
Wayne Morris, USN, Flew 57 combat missions, Fighter Pilot, Pacific
Audie Murphy, US Army, America's most highly decorated soldier in WWII
Stan Musial, baseball star, USN
Barry Nelson, USAAF Sgt
Paul Newman, USN TBM Crewman
Hugh O'Brian, USMC, Drill Instructor
Edmond O'Brien, USAAF Cpl
Laurence Olivier, RNAS Utility Pilot with 757 Sqn
Jack Palahnuik, USAAF B-24 Pilot
Jack Palance, USAAF, Badly injured and medically discharged
Sam Peckinpah, USMC
Sidney Poitier, USN, (under age)
Tom Poston, USN Pilot
Tyrone Power, USMC, Fighter Pilot
Robert Preston, USAAF Intelligence Officer 9th AF
Gene Raymond, USAAF Intelligence 8th AF; 97 BG
Ronald Reagan, US Army Reserves (bad eyesight), Made Training Films
Pee Wee Reese, baseball star, USN, Special Services
George Reeves, USAAF Sgt 8th AF
Lowell Rich, USAAF B-29 Navigator
Ralph Richardson, RNAS pilot 757 Sqn
Cliff Robertson, USN
Dale Robertson, USAF Pilot ATC
Jackie Robinson, baseball star, US Army
Gene Roddenberry, USAAF C-46 Pilot 8th AF
Andy Rooney, Correspondent Stars and Stripes
Mickey Rooney, US Army Special Services
Dan Rowan, USAAF, Pilot in the Pacific
Martin Ritt, USAAF PFC
Robert Ryan, USMC, Drill Instructor
George C. Scott
Peter Sellers, RAF Ground Crew
Richard B. "Red" Skelton, US Army Special Services
Enos Slaughter, USAAF
Kent Smith, USAAF-FMPU
Robert Stack, USN Aerial Gunner
Rod Steiger, USN
Craig Stevens, USAAF-FMPU
George Stevens, USAAF-FMPU
Jimmy Stewart, USAAF, Flew 20 Combat Missions in Europe
Ralph Story, USAAF P-51 Pilot 9th AF
John Sturges, USAAF-FMPU
Don Taylor, USAAF-FMPU
Robert Taylor, USAAF Flight Instructor
David Tomlinson, RAF Flight Instructor
Jack Warner, USAAF-FMPU LtCol
Dennis Weaver, USN F4U Fighter Pilot
Ted Williams, USMC, Flight Instructor
Woody Woodbury, USMC Fighter Pilot
William Wyler, USAAF-FMPU LtCol
Darryl F Zanuck, USAAF-FMPU Col