20 February, 1944

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 527 % Postmaster, N.Y.

England

Sunday Morning

20 February, 1944        0930

Dearest sweetheart –

One thing you won’t have to worry about is my staying in bed late. For one thing, I expect to be busy with my work and the hospital, and for another – I never did indulge in the well-known luxury. Maybe I never had the right incentive, dear. I’ll probably be able to change on very short notice though.

Down here – some of the fellow are allowed to sleep a bit later on Sundays, but I inevitably awaken at the usual hour. This morning there’s very little to do and that’s why I’m writing so early.

Well yesterday I got a few letters from you, Sweetheart, and most welcome, too. I got one from January 19th, Feb. 2, a V-mail from February 4th and an airmail from the 7th of February. I read them all with interest and noted particularly your various moods, dear, in your writing. In one – you seemed just a little bit tired, darling, and in that connection I wanted to mention this before – you know how much I love your letters and want them, but I know that sometimes if you’re out for a day or an evening, that it must be difficult for you to get a letter written. In that case dear, you know I’ll understand. If you’re very tired or blue, or upset in any other way, it’s hard to write. In my own case it’s different. I can usually write almost any time of the day or evening. If I happen to be blue or discouraged (I’m never physically tired), I wait and sure enough, later in the day I feel better and then I write. And I know I have more time than you, anyway.

You wrote in one of your letters that you had had a serious talk with your parents about us, dear. I’m glad that the result was pleasant and satisfying, as you put it. They’re right about dating, and I believe I’ve expressed myself on that score before, sweetheart, so enough said. I will say this. I marvel at your will power and lack of desire to go out. It so chimes with my own feelings, that I’m amazed at it all. We must really be in love, dear, and for that I’m glad.

You mention in the same letter about your hesitancy in going over to my house too often. We’ve been very frank with each other, so frank – that I mentioned the matter even before you did – but only in anticipation, dear, of your reaction. Engaged – or unengaged, it makes little difference to me or my folks. You’ve met my family enough times now to know how plain and real they are. The fact is, I brought you to my house in the first place. That meant a great deal to them, because unlike many fellows, I was not in the habit of bringing girls to my home. You can verify that very easily. So that it was sort of understood that when I did bring a girl to meet my folks, it meant that that was the girl I intended to marry. I know my folks understand that just as I’ve explained that to you now. Please feel free in every sense of the word to visit my house as often as you can. As a matter of fact – if my folks don’t invite you very often – it’s because they don’t want you to think that they are taking too much for granted from you. I know – they’re like that. I’m sure they love you, darling, because that’s what I hear in every letter, and I know nothing will please them more than our marriage.

Last night was another quiet night, dear. One of the officers from the other half of our battalion came over and we played cribbage and sipped beer. I heard a re-broadcast of a Dinah Shore program and also one by Xavier Cugat. I enjoyed one number particularly – ‘Green Eyes’. Today I shall read and relax again. I’m amazed at my lack of boredom. I enjoy sitting around without bothering to ‘dress-up’. Incidentally, you’ll have trouble with me when we’re married, darling, trying to get me to do just that. I love to hang around in old sport shoes, baggy flannels – and guess what – my new sweater of course!!

Well, Sweetheart, that’s all for now I guess. I hope to hear from you again today – although I can’t kick if I don’t. Best regards to everyone and all my love is yours, darling, all of it.

Greg

* TIDBIT *

Xavier Cugat and his Waldorf Astoria Orchestra
Perform Green Eyes

19 Februrary, 1944

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 527 % Postmaster, N.Y.

England

19 February, 1944      0930

Dearest sweetheart –

Saturday morning has become inspection morning once more. There was a time when it was felt that once overseas – we could do without the pomp and circumstance that we had in garrison back home. But here we are having it again. I suppose if we ever get to some real front lines – action will have to stop on Saturday mornings to allow inspecting officers to come around. We’ve already been inspected this morning, dear, and everything was found to be all right. They don’t usually bother us very much, anyway – but it’s the idea of it that I don’t like. Oh well – enough of that.

The Saturdays really do roll along. Despite almost 20 months of being in the Army and having one day just like the other, I still can’t shake that feeling of having done something a little bit different on the week-end. I don’t suppose I’ll ever lose that feeling, darling, and it’s just as well.

In that connection, dear, – you ask me to write more about my activity. Do you mean what the outfit is doing etc. – or my own.? I think you refer to the latter – but I don’t know what more I can write you, Sweetheart, beyond which I already have. The sum and substance of it is that I just don’t have any activity – and limited as yours has been, dear, I can assure you that mine is even more so. Don’t forget I don’t have friends, relatives, etc. to call on the phone. The only familiar faces I see are those of the soldiers around me. And when I’m blue, dear, I don’t have my mother and father to talk things over with. I’m not complaining though, because our position could be so much worse! But getting back to my activity, in sum and substance it goes somewhat like this: breakfast between 0700 and 0730; listen to BBC at 0800 – news; shave 0830+; sick-call 0900 and generally over about 1000; visit gun section 1000-1200 and then lunch. After lunch, darling, I’ve been writing you and then at 1400 I’ve been teaching first aid, medicine etc. until about 1530-1600; between 1600-1700 I usually do some reading or check up on our reports or some such thing. At 1700 we eat and from then on we hang around in quarters. I’ve told you what that amounts to, already. How does this program vary? It doesn’t very much, dear – but occasionally we go to a movie or some U.S.O. or special service program on the post. Our time off is 48 hours about every 2 weeks – I went 3 weeks ago and as yet have nothing in view to make me go again. Once you miss the pass, it’s missed, dear – so I won’t be going anyway for about another week.

Another question you asked, sweetheart, was whether or not I changed my mind about going out. Darling – it isn’t a question of changing my mind at all. I didn’t make up my mind about not going out with girls. I knew I didn’t want to, I had no desire to and what’s more dear – that’s the way I still feel and I know I’ll continue to feel that way. I just can’t conceive of being with anyone else but you, darling. I couldn’t be hearing from you daily and writing you as often as I can – and feel otherwise. You and only you, dearest are my main theme and you are the only one who interests me.

I got two letters from Eleanor yesterday, one from my brother and two cards from my father – one from N.Y., the other from Pittsburgh. I hadn’t known he was on his way to Ohio. Eleanor wrote me about my bank balance and that my government checks were arriving on schedule. Lawrence wrote me about school, etc.

And so there you are, dear. That’s about all for now – but I do hope the mail situation has straightened out for you. You must by now have received a whole batch of my letters. Your inability to ration them is like mine. I just can’t wait and I read them all when they arrive. I love to have you tell me you love me, darling, and I love to tell you the same. How am I doing in that respect? At any rate – you must know I do – and how much. I want you to always remember that, dear, until I can prove it to you in person. So long for now, sweetheart and for now

All my love

Greg

Regards to the family

Love

G.

18 February, 1944

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 527 % Postmaster, N.Y.

England

18 February, 1944       1030

Dearest darling Wilma –

Well this makes a run of 3 days of bleak wintry days – and yet it never gets as cold as our own dear New England. Today we are having snow flurries, but it hasn’t amounted to much. Nevertheless I’ve been sort of reluctant to do much traveling about in an open jeep, so here I am again at the Dispensary, getting off an early letter to you, dear.

Last night we spent another nice quiet evening in our quarters. Thursday is ration day and we got our allotment of gum, soap, chocolate bars, matches and tobacco. One of the boys had received a box of chocolates – Apollo, I didn’t know they were still making them. They came in rather good condition and we gorged ourselves. All of us had some reading material, and we just sat around and took it easy. I received 2 copies of the Boston Herald yesterday, January 4th and 8th. Despite the age, dear, you’d be surprised at what good reading they make. Just to see a familiar picture or read the name of a street you know – is very satisfying. And the sport page keeps you up to date on home activities. In addition – I got my first copy of the Pony Edition of Time Magazine. It was the January 31st copy – and reading a magazine here that is only 2 weeks old or so is something. I’m glad my brother sent me it.

CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE
   
The Apollo Chocolates Box
F.H. Roberts Co., Boston, MA Since 1898

Anyway you can see, darling, that I had plenty to read. I came across an old physiology and anatomy book down here and I think I’m going to review a bit of the stuff I’ve become rusty on.

Gee – one item in the news this morning was on the morbid side. No doubt you got it before this. I refer to the 100 soldiers missing after the sinking of a troop ship in European waters. I guess I'm lucky to be safe on land. I’m glad more for your sake and the sake of my folks – and I’m glad you didn’t have to worry about me when you heard of that sinking. It must have been a terrible shock to a good many families at home. I guess most of us thought that our troops were safe from that hazard.

I got a letter from you yesterday written January 18th – which is a way back. Every now and then we get older letters, but I don’t mind very much. Enclosed was a clipping – or rather cartoon from the Traveler which was very cute. How is your driving coming along, darling? Don’t worry though – if you want to put the car in that way, why that’s the way you’ll put it. On second thought, we’ll limit that just to your car. I see by the various additions that you have a good imagination, sweetheart. I like that, because I have one too. Blotting out of the clouds and drawing in the sun – is very symbolic, and I’m sure it will be that way for us. The dog is assuredly a Scotty, if you like them, too.

This cartoon was included in the letter of 18 January, 1944.

I guess you’re going to be a very practical wife, darling. Very few girls know much about the value of money and very few girls know much about loans, interest – etc. It will be nice to have a wife who knows about money, what we’re doing with it and how it’s being saved or invested. I assume of course that we’ll have money to save and invest, dear. After the war, sweetheart, and as soon as we’re married – we’ll go over all that together. We’ll appraise what insurance I have, see if it’s enough and the right kind, plan for the future etc. I have a little money in savings which perhaps could be used to better advantage, although when I last heard, it was still bringing about 3% interest, compounded quarter-annually. I also have a little money invested in cooperative shares which seemed to me to be the thing to do – at one time. We’ll use a good part of it getting a car, starting our home, getting clothes, etc. – but hell – with any kind of break, I’ll make more, I know – because I did reasonably well without any particular incentive. I’ll really have something to work for with you as my wife and the prospects of a family. Gosh – I get a big kick out of thinking about such things, darling.

I’ll stop now – but continue dreaming, if you don’t mind, sweetheart. I feel very close to you when I think and plan of the future. We’re going to have a grand time together, dear, and to say that I’m looking forward to it is to utter the world’s greatest understatement. So long for now, darling and you have all my love

Greg.

* TIDBIT *

About the Sinking of the USS Leary
and the Loss of 100 Men

CLICK ON PICTURE TO ENLARGE

The USS Leary (DD-158)

From The blog of Jerome Prophet comes this incredible story of the tragic sinking of the USS Leary by Lt. Scott Robinson, H Division, USS North Carolina Historical Detachment.

On 17 December, 1943, CTG 21.14 commanded by Captain A.J. Isbell aboard the USS Card (CVE-11), left Casablanca and steamed in support of convoy GUS-24. Orders from Washington detached the Card group, Leary (DD158), Schenck (DD159), Decatur and Babbitt, to track down a U-boat concentration around latitude 45N, longitude 22W. The Card was one of the "jeep" (escort) carriers and the destroyers were old WWI vintage four-stack destroyers.

Just before dusk on the 23rd, the seas were so rough that a Wildcat and her crew were lost from the deck of the Card. An additional sailor was swept off her flight deck. While the air crew was recovered, the sailor was nowhere to be found in the rough seas. Decatur's steering gear room was flooded and she was being steered by hand.

Captain Isbell had no way of knowing that group Borkum (13 subs) had rallied and lay in waiting for their prey 85 miles dead ahead. With the rough seas and the stricken Decatur, Isbell could not evade the group and decided to press ahead. The die was cast.

At 2200, U-305 sighted Card and ordered the wolfpack to close. At 2230 Card's radar picked up her first surface contact. Soon, there were too many to track. Card, with Decatur in close proximity had to make best speed dead ahead to outrun the wolfpack. Leary and the stricken Decatur followed the Card and took evasive action. Things began to happen in rapid succession. The heat was on and the ships were in the middle of a cauldron of war and Mother Nature's fury.

Several subs pursued Card through the night. At 0630, she was able to launch her first aircraft and a sub was immediately spotted 7000 yards on her port quarter. The subs dove under the safety of the waves and Card was spared. Meanwhile, the two destroyers, Schenck and Leary, were engaged in battle with the remainder of Group Borkum. Torpedoes were seen in the water heading for Schenck. The closest was one that went right under her bow. A wave had crested just in time and the Schenck was spared. She steamed towards Leary to join in a systematic search of the region.

As Leary moved out to chase the more distant, Schenck made a 4th contact and lost it at about 2500 yards. She sighted a U-boat diving and evaded a torpedo to port. She closed to 800 yards and at 0145, began a nine depth charge pattern. The U-boat was damaged and surfaced at 0215. Schenck closed for the coup-de-gras. The boat dove. At 0229, secondary underwater explosions were heard and a brief surface contact was made. A distress signal was intercepted. As Schenck closed on the stricken U-boat, she slipped under the waves with no survivors. An oil slick surfaced. This was the end of U-645. The U-boat sank with 55 men and group Borkum's Doctor.

A series of mishaps were rapidly occurring aboard Leary. At 0158, Leary commanded by Commander James Kyes, made radar contact and fired a star shell to illuminate the target. This only illuminated her own position for the shadowing subs. As the sub submerged to periscope depth, there was a misunderstanding and Leary's guns continued to fire. At 0208, when sound contact was gained, the squawk box between the sound room and bridge failed to function and almost two minutes elapsed before Commander Kyes got the word, and, too late, ordered right rudder.

U-275 had been watching Leary for almost ten minutes. At 0210 as Leary commenced her turn, Oberluetnant Bork fired two well aimed Zaukoning torpedoes. They hit Leary in rapid succession. One in the after engine room, and one in the after hold. All power was lost. The crew in the engineering spaces were killed outright by severed steam lines. She listed to starboard by 25 degrees and settled rapidly. The torpedo men barely had time to safe her depth charges. This action undoubtedly saved many lives. The entire aft section of the destroyer became a tangle of twisted metal and human lives extinguished. Leary began to break apart and settle. RT Butch Hauer started the auxiliary generator and called to Schenck for assistance. As Schenck was taking an oil sample, Leary five miles distant, had reported that she had just been torpedoed. U-275 's fish had hit their mark. Schenck headed at flank speed to aid her sister.

Three or four minutes after the explosions, the Executive Officer, Lt. Robert Watson, concluded a quick inspection. He reported to Commander Kyes. Kyes ordered abandon ship. BM Walter Eshelman directed men to jettison all floatable gear and abandonment was professional and orderly as if a drill. Watson reported that everyone except himself and the skipper had left and obtained permission for one more look around to see if any wounded men had been forgotten. U-382 had moved into position and launched a third torpedo. It struck at 0241 in the forward engine space. Leary broke apart and went down fast. Commander Kyes ordered Watson and Hauer over the side and handed his life jacket to a black mess attendant who had none. Commander Kyes was never seen again.

As the ship slipped beneath the waves, her bow rose high in the air. The steam escaping from the spaces and the constant blowing of her distress horn made an eerie, haunting sound. Men swam away from her as fast as they could, dragging the injured and weak behind them. They had to escape the suction of the ship, and any secondary explosions from unsafed depth charges. Over 60 men were killed instantly by the explosions, and about 100 were now in the 43 degree water. As Schenck arrived on the scene, she could not pick up survivors. The water was infested with Group Borkum. A rain squall developed and pounded the waters. In a bold move, Commander Logsdon slowed Schenck and dropped her gig in the water with four men aboard. He gave the order to a young Lieutenant (jg), "Save as many as you can. I don't know when we'll be back. Good luck and may God be with you." With that, the gig was in the water among the survivors. Schenck pressed on to chase Borkum out of the area.

In the water, there was no officer, no enlisted man, no black, no white. They were all sailors fighting to stay alive. Afraid that, at any moment, a U-boat would surface and machinegun them all. Not only were they fighting the enemy, they were now fighting the cruel sea. One by one, they slowly succumbed to their injuries and slipped beneath the waves. The strong fought to hold on to the wounded, but their hands and arms ceased to function.

Four hours later, when day broke on Christmas Eve, Schenck returned to the site. She slowly steamed among the debris and bodies. Her crew tried to identify the dead from the names stenciled on their clothing. She pulled 59 hypothermic and injured men from the water. 97 United States sailors perished on Christmas Eve of 1943 in the icy North Atlantic.

The captain, James Ellsworth Kyes, was born in Everett, Washington on 16 April 1906 and had graduated from the United States Naval Academy in 1930. He was awarded the Navy Cross posthumously for "extraordinary heroism" during this action. There is a memorial to James Kyes erected by his Annapolis classmates at the site of the abandoned mining town of Monte Cristo in the Cascade Mountains in Washington where his family ran a hotel. The memorial sits under a large tree he planted as a young boy. There are no buildings left at the town site, only the memorial and the tree. It is a 4 mile hike to reach Monte Cristo. The road is not open to automobiles.

Also awarded posthumously was the Navy and Marine Corp Medal to Lt. (JG) Anthony Kerasotes, for heroism in connection with operations while serving as Doctor aboard USS Leary on 24 Dec. 1943. When Leary was struck and heavily damaged, Lt. Kerasotes immediately initiated medical procedures on the scores of wounded personnel. When the word was passed to abandon ship, he helped ensure the injured were transported over the side. When the final, fatal torpedo struck Leary, he was continuing his medical attention to the injured and was one of the last personnel to enter the water. While in the cold water, he helped ensure the men were all taken care of and continued to swim between groups encouraging and assisting them until he himself drowned.

In April 1937, USS Leary had become the first United States naval vessel to be equipped with search radar, which was installed by the Naval Research Laboratory. The radar set included separate antennae to send and receive in the VHF band (1.5 m). Now Leary became the third (and last) American destroyer to be sunk by a German U-boat.

17 February, 1944

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 527 % Postmaster, N.Y.

England

17 February, 1944      1240

Dearest sweetheart,

I’ve just finished lunch and here I am somewhat near the usual time – ready to write you. Today is just like yesterday, with perhaps less rain – but with the same rawness and general nastiness. Fortunately I can do pretty much as I please – and so I haven’t been out very much in the past two days.

One of the officers here has two officer friends stationed not far away. One of them is a Bombardier, the other – a Navigator – but both in different outfits. They were down to visit us last night and it certainly was interesting to get first hand information about some of the raids these boys had been on over Germany – all the ones you must be reading about in the papers at home. What struck me was how matter-of-fact both of them were. Also I was impressed with the pride each showed in talking about his “Fort”, what ‘she’ had been through, and how ‘she’ could ‘take it’. I could tell you lots more, darling, that would be interesting – but not allowed.

Yesterday I got a letter from Col. Pereira at Fort Bliss. He seemed pretty upset about things. It seems that they’re disbanding his outfit, and many more just like it – because of an excess. The officers and men are being absorbed by other outfits; many of the other men are being re-classified. He himself asked for Foreign Service and as a result had to have another physical. They checked his eyes and found them poor. So now he’s in a hospital down there awaiting someone’s decision about whether or not he stays in the Army. I think he’s a fool for being sorry, myself – but he actually is bitterly disappointed about it.

I was interested in your account of the preparation for Fran and Dick’s wedding. I’m glad, dear, that you did go out and get a chance to get dressed up. I was envious, too, but am willing to wait my turn. I haven’t yet got your account of the actual wedding but I hope you had a really good time. Did you wear an evening gown, darling? I’ve never seen you in one, you know.

Don’t you worry about my keeping track of the kisses, sweetheart. And doubling the number of kisses doesn’t bother me at all, I can assure you. We’ll probably have to take it slow at first, because if we both end up with sore lips – it will be too bad. I’ll give you the single figure from time to time, dear, and you can figure that the same holds for you – that is – if you think you can keep up with me, darling. The last figure, by the way, was 4850. The new figure is 5199. Kisses will be paid off at the demand of the creditor. Joint kisses will be considered as a single kiss; all kisses interrupted by a phone call or any other extraneous disturbance will be considered no kiss. Time limit – at discretion of the kisser. If these rules are satisfactory, sweetheart, it’s a deal.

I’m glad you feel that I really love you when I write I do. You know I found saying nice things – somewhat difficult. I could never say them just for the effect. After I got to know you, darling, and felt the way I do about you – it was the easiest thing in the world for me to express myself. I just hadn’t met the right girl until I met you, dear, and once I did – well I really know whom I love and how much.

Dearest – I must run along now over to the Dispensary. I really should be there right after lunch, but if I don’t write you early I feel as if I haven’t really started the day and that’s why I sneak over here and try to get a letter written. Now I can go over to the dispensary and see some soldiers, give a class and take care of a few other matters. I love you, dear, and no matter how envious you may be of other couples getting married, etc. – you can’t envy their amount of love – because I’m sure no fellow loves his girl more than I love you. Will you always keep that in mind?

So long for now, Sweetheart. Until tomorrow – you have

All my love,

Greg

Regards

Love

G

* TIDBIT *

about Bombardiers, Navigators and
Pride in the Flying Fortress

Following are excerpts from the Pilot Training Manual for the B-17 Flying Fortress, which was issued to B-17 pilots during World War II and was considered to be the "textbook of the B-17". This information was copied from Marshall Stelzriede 's War Story site.

The B-17's incredible capacity to "take it" -- to come flying home on three, two, even one engine, sieve-like with flak and bullet holes, with large sections of wing or tail surfaces shot away -- has been so widely publicized that U. S. fighting men could afford to joke about it. Here are two examples:

CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE

But the fact remains: the rugged Forts can take it and still fly home. Why? The B-17 is built for battle. Its wings are constructed with heavy truss-type spars which tend to localize damage by enemy fire so that basic wing strength is not affected. Because of its unusual tail design, the airplane can be flown successfully even when vertical or horizontal tail surfaces have been partially destroyed, or with one or more engines shot away. Even when battle damage prevents use of all other control methods, the autopilot provides near-normal maneuverability.

The following diagram shows the B-17 and the location of her crewmen as they worked:

The navigator's job is to direct your flight from departure to destination and return. He must know the exact position of the airplane at all times. Navigation is the art of determining geographic positions by means of (a) pilotage, (b) dead reckoning, (c) radio, or (d)celestial navigation, or any combination of these 4 methods. By any one or combination of methods the navigator determines the position of the airplane in relation to the earth.

Instrument calibration is an important duty of the navigator. All navigation depends directly on the accuracy of his instruments. Correct calibration requires close cooperation and extremely careful flying by the pilot. Instruments to be calibrated include the altimeter, all compasses, airspeed indicators, alignment of the astrocompass, astrograph, and drift meter, and check on the navigator's sextant and watch.

Accurate and effective bombing is the ultimate purpose of your entire airplane and crew. Every other functionis preparatory to hitting and destroying the target. That's your bombardier's job. The success or failure of the mission depends upon what he accomplishes in that short interval of the bombing run. When the bombardier takes over the airplane for the run on the target, he is in absolute command. He will tell you what he wants done, and until he tells you "Bombs away," his word is law.

Under any given set of conditions -- groundspeed, altitude, direction, etc. -- there is only one point in space where a bomb may be released from the airplane to hit a predetermined object on the ground. There are many things with which a bombardier must be thoroughly familiar in order to release his bombs at the right point to hit this predetermined target. The bombardier should be familiar with the duties of all members of the crew and should be able to assist the navigator in case the navigator becomes incapacitated.

For the bombardier to be able to do his job, the pilot of the aircraft must place the aircraft in the proper position to arrive at a point on a circle about the target from which the bombs can be released to hit the target. Consider the following conditions which affect the bomb dropped from an airplane:

ALTITUDE: Controlled by the pilot.
Determines the length of time the bomb is sustained in flight and affected by atmospheric conditions, thus affecting the range (forward travel of the bomb) and deflection (distance the bomb drifts in a crosswind with respect to airplane's ground track).

TRUE AIRSPEED: Controlled by the pilot.
The measure of the speed of the airplane through the air. It is this speed which is imparted to the bomb and which gives the bomb its initial forward velocity and, therefore, affects the trail of the bomb, or the distance the bomb lags behind the airplane at the instant of impact.

BOMB BALLISTICS: Size, shape and density of the bomb, which determines its air resistance. Bombardier uses bomb ballistics tables to account for type of bomb.

TRAIL: Horizontal distance the bomb is behind the airplane at the instant of impact. This value, obtained from bombing tables, is set in the sight by the bombardier. Trail is affected by altitude, airspeed, bomb ballistics and air density, the first two factors being controlled by the pilot.

ACTUAL TIME OF FALL: Length of time the bomb is sustained in air from instant of release to instant of impact. Affected by altitude, type of bomb and air density. Pilot controls altitude to obtain a definite actual time of fall.

GROUND SPEED: Controlled by the pilot.
The speed of the airplane in relation to the earth's surface. Ground speed affects the range of the bomb and varies with the airspeed. Bombardier enters ground speed in the bombsight through synchronization on the target. During this process the pilot must maintain the correct altitude and constant airspeed.

DRIFT: Determined by the direction and velocity of the wind, which determines the distance the bomb will travel downwind from the airplane from the instant the bomb is released to its instant of impact. Drift is set on the bombsight by the bombardier during the process of synchronization and setting up course.

16 February, 1944

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 527 % Postmaster, N.Y.

England

16 February, 1944        1015

Dearest sweetheart,

I’m at the Dispensary now. Sick call is over, the place is clean and quiet. It’s raining a steady downpour at about a 50º angle – much like a New England rainstorm during a Northeaster. Because the weather is so wet and bleak outside, I’ve decided not to visit any of the sections this morning and that explains my writing at this hour, dear. It’s warm and comfortable in here and quiet enough to dream. I shaved a short time ago (electric razor – because I don’t have to have my face too smooth these days, darling). I’m sitting at a desk, smoking my pipe. I’m wearing the conventional O.D. shirt and trousers and wearing a sleeveless O.D. sweater.

Here's a listen to the Bugle Call for Sick Call:

In front of me – across the room and between two windows – is a sketch of some plasma bottles and how to use the needles, tubing, etc. for the administration to a soldier in case of shock. At my left, above a row of benches is our bulletin board, particularly conspicuous with a large scale Venereal Disease chart which I made up recently. It traces the cases month by month that this battalion has had and I’m glad to say that for 2 consecutive months the graph-line has been on zero, dear. Now, don’t you feel better about human nature? At my right wall is a large scale map of the section of England we’re in, with many familiar New England names on it. That, sweetheart, about completes the picture of myself and my surroundings on this mid-February morning.

For the past several nights, darling, I’ve been getting a tremendous amount of rest and sleep. Some of the line officers have gone to various schools here and there’s no one around who can get off to go to a movie even. So I’ve just been sitting around, listening to the radio and reading. I got a big kick out of one program the other night – over the American Forces Network; it was a re-broadcast of a program by the Boston Symphony Orchestra, with Serge Koussevitsky conducting. I closed my eyes – and presto! I was back at Symphony Hall.

Darling, yesterday I got your letter of January 24th and was I glad to get another small picture of you! I didn’t want to ask you for another just like the one you sent me – but I did want one for my wallet. The first, dear, as I’ve explained – I shall always keep out on some shelf, stand – no matter where we are. The other I’ve got in my wallet in the cellophane jacket around my Identification card. The data is on one side – and your picture (over mine) is on the other – so that now, Sweetheart, in addition to everyone else the M.P.’s will get to know you, too, – every time I show my card. My, dear, you’ll have quite a following!

CLICK ON PICTURES TO ENLARGE

I enjoyed your letter of the 24th very much and was surprised when you mentioned that we had known each other for 6 mos. The date, frankly, had slipped my mind – and I sat back to ponder about it. Six months, Sweetheart – that I’ve known you. Our association is really taking some age with it. I wonder how much more or better I would know you now if I had been around – all of the six months. That question arises in my mind very frequently. In other words, darling, will you or are you loving me as a symbol of someone you knew and cared for – but didn’t get to know too well – or am I able to stay in your mind as vividly as when I was seeing you frequently. I want so much for the latter to be the case. No matter what the length of our separation is destined to be – can I continue to hold your love and interest by mail alone? Dearest – I hope so like I’ve never hoped for anything before; I hope that whatever power attracted me to you – never diminishes. If that is so – I have no fear that when I come back – that we’ll really feel that we’ve known each other for a long time. How about the reverse? Sweetheart – there’s not a doubt in my mind at all. In the few months that I was around, I saw you often. We were alone enough to exchange ideas – important ideas – from point of view of marriage. We were alone enough to have physical contact, too, also an important point, and I believe from what contact we had that we’ll be quite compatible from that angle. Do you feel so, too? I’m glad we had enough to find that out, because without it no matter how much we felt we loved each other, that question would be in both our minds and would be troublesome. Do you feel as certain as I do, dear? I’ll be interested in what you have to say.

Well, darling, I’ll have to close now because a couple of things have turned up that I have to attend to. I hope, dear, that from my letters, what I say and how I say it – that you realize how much I love you, how certain I am of my love for you, and how much I want you to be mine in every sense of the word – If you do realize it, dearest, it should make waiting for me, just a little bit easier. I hope so.

Best regards from Charlie and Pete who are always asking for you. Regards to your family and our friends. For now, Sweetheart, you have all my love and remember I will be

Forever yours,

Greg.

* TIDBIT *

about Plasma in World War II

CLICK ON PICTURES TO ENLARGE
   
Medics administer Plasma on a Normandy beach

Plasma is the liquid portion of the blood--a protein-salt solution in which red and white blood cells and platelets are suspended. Plasma, which is 90 percent water, constitutes 55 percent of blood volume. Plasma contains albumin (the chief protein constituent), fibrinogen (responsible, in part, for the clotting of blood), and globulins (including antibodies). Plasma serves a variety of functions, from maintaining a satisfactory blood pressure and volume to supplying critical proteins for blood clotting and immunity. It also serves as the medium of exchange for vital minerals such as sodium and potassium, thus helping maintain a proper balance in the body, which is critical to cell function. Plasma is obtained by separating the liquid portion of blood from the cells.

In 1938, Dr. Charles Drew, a leading authority on mass transfusion and blood processing methods, set up a blood plasma system. By 1939, Dr. Drew had set up a blood bank at the Columbia Medical Center. He made a breakthrough discovery that blood plasma could replace whole blood, which deteriorated in a few days in storage. This discovery played a major role during World War II where many countries experienced extreme casualties.

Blood was urgently needed for wounded troops as war raged across Europe in 1940. Dr. Drew was chosen by the International Transfusion Association to organize the Blood for Britain project. This program collected, processed and transported 14,500 units of plasma - all within five months. Dr. Drew's scientific research helped revolutionize blood plasma transfusion so that pooled plasma could readily be given on the battlefield, which dramatically improved opportunities to save lives.

Plasma as it was supplied

Fearing the U.S. would be drawn into World War II, the American armed forces requested development of a similar blood collection system. In February of 1941, Dr. Drew was appointed Director of the first American Red Cross Blood Bank. He established an effective plasma collection and preservation organization - a model for today's volunteer blood donation programs.

Because of its ability to reduce death from shock caused by bleeding, dried plasma became a vital element in the treatment of the wounded on World War II battlefields. By the time the program ended in September 1945, the American Red Cross had collected over 13 million units of blood and converted nearly all of it into plasma. "If I could reach all America," said General Dwight D. Eisenhower, supreme commander of Allied Expeditionary Forces, "there is one thing I would like to do--thank them for blood plasma and whole blood. It has been a tremendous thing." At war’s end, some 1.3 million plasma units were returned to the American Red Cross, which made them available to civilian hospitals.

The development of the Blood program in World War 2 was a real landmark, and the increased use of Whole Blood as well as Plasma was fundamental to medical success in saving the lives not just of wounded men but of generations to come.

15 February, 1944

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 527 % Postmaster, N.Y.

England

15 February, 1944 1115

Dearest darling Wilma,

I don’t expect to finish this before lunch, when I’m left alone. I haven’t written to you in the forenoon for some time now. I happen to be free at the moment.

I’ve just looked at your letter of the 31st in which you toasted me at dinner. That was thoughtful, darling, and believe me – I would have given anything to have been with you that evening. Incidentally, you’re still a two-drink girl, aren’t you, dear? It’s just as well. I never could like a girl who was heavy drinker – and boy! there are plenty of that kind around.

Your news about the 570th was interesting. They should be through their training by now – but the usual procedure is maneuvers and then overseas. Incidentally no outfit like that one is in the E.T.O. – so if they do come overseas – it won’t be in this direction. I guess it’s just as well I stayed with this battalion, dear, because I do feel it has been lucky so far. And yet in my early days here – I couldn’t help but think that had I stayed with them we’d have been engaged and who knows – even married. But everything must be considered as happening for the best. The ability to leave you and find that I love you more – your loving me, even though I’m away – that adds up to an awfully strong point to our love for each other. I have never felt more certain about anything, sweetheart, than I do about my love for you, and I know you feel the same way about me. But I don’t want you to feel ‘years older’, darling. And the feeling for fun etc. shouldn’t leave you at all. If anything – you should merely be saving it up, because that’s what I’m doing.

Late last night I got your letter of January 22. You can see how screwed up the sequence is, but each letter is a symbol in its own right, and the order really makes very little difference. You give me some of the reasons which led you to give up your job, and I don’t blame you one bit. Of course – as you say – being my wife would be a 24 hr. job, but it would entail being my companion, confidant, mother of our children – and what job that you know of gives you a 50-50 split of the profits, darling? And all expenses, naturally. The job is yours, dear, and I’m not advertising for anyone else. And don’t forget. I am not asking for previous experience!

I suppose working in the bridal shop must have been hard to take, dear. I think about our getting married very often when I’m alone. I wonder what it will be like, will I be excited, nervous, in a hurry to get the actual thing over with, I think not. I’ve had so much time to think about getting married that I know I’m going to enjoy it immensely. I suppose when the time comes I’ll feel somewhat differently, and you’ll be there to remind me of it – i.e. that I said I wouldn’t be nervous.

You mention reading; you certainly should do some if for no other reason than to keep your mind working. I’m not doing a heck of a lot myself, for that matter – but I try whenever there’s something available.

Darling, I must mention again how nice it is to get your letters and find that you still love me. I know I keep repeating that – and I’ll continue to do so. I don’t want you ever to forget my appreciation. Your letters have been so helpful – you’ll have no true idea until the time comes when I return home to you and tell you. I’ll be able to tell you what my thoughts and feelings were on these long winter days and nights in a faraway spot, alone a good bit of the time. It’s then that your letters stand out like beacons, darling, giving me the lift that nothing else could match. I’ll tell you about it, someday, and you’ll really know what I meant.

I love you so strongly, dear, that I know my words are constantly falling short of what I feel. But I can only repeat over and over again that I love you and won’t rest completely easily until I can marry you, call you my wife and take you with me to our own home. Then, perhaps, darling, will you know what I mean and how I feel when I say I love you strongly. For now dear, I can only say so long, once more, but keep in mind always that my love for you will always exist and grow stronger. For now dear –

All my love

Greg.

* TIDBIT *

about Carolyn Gardner and Roe v. Wade

In yesterday's letter, Greg spoke of Dr. Stuart Gardner and his wife Carolyn Gardner. What he did not mention, but probably knew, was the story of how Carolyn Gardner contributed to the eventual Roe v. Wade decision giving women the right to choose whether or not to carry a pregnancy to term. Much of the material here was taken from a book written by David J. Garrow. This book, Liberty and Sexuality: The Right to Privacy and the Making of Roe v.Wade was published in 1994.

An 1879 Massachusetts statute, brought about to fight debauchery, stated in part:

whoever sells, lends, gives away an instrument or other article intended to be used for self-abuse, or any drug, medicine, instrument or article whatever for the prevention of conception or for causing unlawful abortion, or advertises the same, or writes, prints, or causes to be written or printed a card, circular, book, pamphlet, advertisement or notice of any kind stating when, where, how, of whom or by what means such articles can be purchased obtained, or manufactured or makes any such article shall be punished...

Anyone who violated this statute faced stiff fines and imprisonment. The first successful change in the law came from Margaret Sanger's 1916 arrest for opening the first birth control clinic in America. The Federal case that grew out of her arrest resulted in a 1918 decision, which allowed women to use birth control for therapeutic purposes. The next amendment of the law came in 1936 when doctors were given permission to distribute contraceptives across state lines. While this decision did not eliminate the problem of the restrictive "chastity laws" on the state level, it was a crucial ruling.

On June 3, 1937, five days before the American Medical Association’s landmark birth control resolution acknowledged that contraception merited a physician’s attention – Lieutenant Charles Duffee and 3 others of the Salem, Massachusetts Police Department, armed with a search warrant signed by John McGrath of the Salem Board of Health, raided the North Shore Mothers Health Center on Flint Street in Salem, one of seven birth control clinics operated by the Birth Control League of Massachusetts (BCLM). Undercover policewoman Beatrice Clark and a female colleague had just left the clinic. Dr. Lucille Lord-Heinstein was in the midst of seeing patients, and the patients were detained and questioned while the officers packed up the clinic’s medical records and supplies. Dr. Lord-Heinstein, nurse Flora Rands and social worker Carolyn T. Gardner were arrested and taken to Salem police headquarters for questioning, and all three women were charged with violating the Massachusetts birth control statute by distributing contraceptive devices.

The Salem clinic had been operating for seven months, and the BCLM had heralded its opening by announcing that it had “the backing of a large committee from Salem and nearby towns, comprised of leading physicians, ministers, public spirited citizens and representatives from the boards of welfare agencies.” The BCLM had also noted that, in the opinion of its lawyers, “advice given for medical reasons does not come under prohibitions of our statute.”

But when the three Salem defendants appeared in court on June 22, Judge George Sears refused to return the patient records that had been seized and set trial for July 13th. The prosecution’s first witness that day was Policewoman Clark, who testified that she had first visited the Salem clinic in late May under a false name, and then had returned on June 3 along with a civilian woman, Rose Barlotta, whom she had paid for her assistance. Mrs. Barlotta had been examined, was found to have severe hypertension, and was fitted for a diaphragm, which she had turned over to the officers as evidence. Defense attorney Robert Dodge put all three defendants, plus three well-known Massachusetts doctors and prominent clinic chairwoman Dorothy Bradford on the stand, and Judge Sears said he would reserve his decision.

On July 20, Sears entered a verdict citing a previous Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court affirmation concluding “I must find the defendants guilty” even though they did not believe “they were acting contrary to law.” He imposed a fine of one hundred dollars upon each of the defendants, and the league filed notices of appeal. The cases against the three Salem defendants, plus a fourth colleague, clinic volunteer Pamelia Ferris, were set for a hearing in Superior Court. On October 15, Essex County Superior Court Judge Wilford Gray upheld Sears’s verdicts against Lord-Heinstein, Gardner and Rand and levied a hundred dollar fine against Ferris.

Fifteen Massachusetts doctors wrote to the membership of the Mass Medical Society to ask that each doctor join in a statement of protest. “Two fundamental rights of physicians have been violated,” they declared. “First, in the seizure and holding of confidential medical records by the police; second, by police interference with the right of physicians to practice medicine in accordance with accepted methods.” Within several weeks more than 1700 Massachusetts doctors, more than one third of those in the state, joined their petition of protest. However, on May 26, 1938 the Massachusetts court unanimously affirmed the Salem convictions, saying that the statute was clear and relief should be sought by changes in the law and not from the judicial department. The Massachusetts League decided to appeal to the U.S. Supreme Court as to whether a state legislature may interfere with the practice of medicine under the guise of police regulation of morality and health.

On Monday, October 10, 1938, the US Supreme Court dismissed the Massachusetts League’s appeal of the Salem convictions. The Gardner ruling, as it became known, shocked and disheartened the Massachusetts activists.  On Friday the four Salem defendants appeared in court and each paid their hundred-dollar fines.

In 1965, Griswold v. Connecticut,, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that the U.S. Constitution protected a right to privacy. The case involved a Connecticut law that prohibited the use of contraceptives. By a vote of 7–2, the Supreme Court invalidated the law on the grounds that it violated the "right to marital privacy". The argument was built on the claim that it was a violation of the Equal Protection Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment to deny unmarried couples the right to use contraception when married couples did have that right under Griswold. Justice Brennan wrote that Massachusetts could not enforce the law onto married couples because of Griswold v. Connecticut, so the law worked "irrational discrimination" if not extended to unmarried couples as well. Since Griswold, the Supreme Court has cited the right to privacy in several rulings, most notably in Roe v. Wade in 1973. The Supreme Court ruled that a woman's choice to terminate a pregnancy was protected as a private decision between her and her doctor. And that is the story of how Carolyn Gardner played a part in the events that led to a woman’s right to choose.

POST NOTE: 10 years after this was written, a woman's right to choose was astonishingly lost by a decision of the US Supreme Court, against the will of the majority of Americans.  The quest for freedom-to-choose endures.

14 February, 1944

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 527 % Postmaster, N.Y.

England

14 February, 1944       1230

Dearest Valentine –

I have never before really felt that I had a Valentine until this year – or at least had what the word ‘Valentine’ stands for. Whatever it is, I’m glad you’re mine and I’m yours. I wonder if you got the cards I sent you. The choice was limited in this country, but anyway – you must know what I mean.

Back about a month ago I began thinking about Valentine’s Day and how girls like to be remembered on such days, and how you were being left out in the cold, so to speak. That worried me, darling, because I don’t want you to miss out on completely everything. Anyway I wrote to a couple of places, dear, and I hope you were remembered. I won’t mention what or where. If you got it, darling, I hope you were pleasantly surprised. If not – well then I’m the one who is disappointed. Today is a bleak, barren type of day, dear, but only moderately cold. Last night I was listening to the American Forces Program and heard the news from home. It seems as if winter has really set in – in New England. I’m glad you’re not working now, sweetheart, because it would have been awful to have trudged back and forth by street-car in that kind of weather.

This week I’m supposed to have another 2 day pass – this past week-end as a matter of fact. I’ve had no particular incentive to go though and so far, have no plans. Perhaps the latter part of the week one of the boys will be able to take off and I’ll go. I’ll let you know later.

Yesterday, darling, I got an awfully nice letter from Carolyn Gardner, Dr. Gardner’s wife. I believe I wrote you recently that I had received a Christmas card from him – from the Pacific theater. Well he wrote his wife and gave her my address and she wrote me. She’s a very interesting person and a nice hostess. I’d say she’s about 33-35. She did Social Service work before marrying Stuart. He’s about 46-47. They’ve been married only about 5-6 years and have the cutest daughter of about 2 years of age – named Marcia. When Stuart went into the Navy, Mrs. Gardner did some social service for awhile at the Salem Hospital. Then she went to live with him at Newport and rented their house. (They live on Chestnut St.) When he went West, she went to Springfield where her folks live and she wrote me from there. It was a very newsy letter about a lot of people from Salem she’s in touch with. She’s planning to return there soon and occupy an apartment because the house is too large for her, the baby and the maid, and she said she’d write me again from Salem and bring me up to date. I know, sweetheart that the Gardners will be good friends of ours when we live in Salem. And I know they’ll like you, dear, not only they, but everyone who meets you – and it won’t be because you’re my wife either. I’d hate that. I know of a couple such cases in Salem – doctor’s wives who get by only because of their husbands. But in your case, darling, I know I’ll make even more friends – because of you. And that’s not flattery, either, dear – because after all – I’d only be fooling myself.

I got another nice letter from you written January 31st. You tell me you’ve re-read my letters from Christmas on and you cried. Why do you cry, darling? Is it what I write? I’m glad you feel the way I do in respect to our agreeing on so many things. It is surprising too, that we seem to be so compatible. And we are finding out a good many things by correspondence though, aren’t we? I know that when I return – we’ll know each other completely and thoroughly and that we won’t feel strange. And learning how to kiss you, dear? Will that be difficult do you suppose? Wait and see.

I’ve got to run along now, dear. There’s a patient waiting for me at the Dispensary – question of appendicitis and I don’t want to keep him waiting. Charge for the call? Three dollars? Five dollars? No – the usual – on the house! Well – that’s the way it is. I’ll write tomorrow, darling, and for the time being, so long and

All my love

Greg.

Regards to your folks.

Love

G.