27 February, 1944

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 527 % Postmaster, N.Y.

England

27 February, 1944    Sunday Morning

Dearest sweetheart –

Some of my men have just left for church and it’s reasonably quiet right now. Again there’s just the faintest touch of Spring already in the air – and I’m willing to wager, dear, that Spring here in England will really be hard to take – if everything the poets have said about it comes true.

Yesterday, darling, I got some bad news – not from home or you – but from right here in England. We have, or the Red Cross has a system of traveling Clubmobiles, so-called which travel over the countryside stopping at certain spots to give the soldiers some hot coffee and American type doughnuts. Well one of them hit us yesterday for the first time. I was getting my share – out on the road where they stopped  and was talking with another officer. One of the Red Cross workers yelled out from the truck and asked if I were from Boston; she thought I sounded as if I were. I said ‘yes’ and ‘why’. She asked me if I knew a fellow from Boston named Zetlan. Well, dear, that’s a rather odd name and I knew she must be referring to Maurice Zetlan – Al’s younger brother – who I knew – was a Bombardier here – in a Fort. So I told her the fellow I knew was actually from Salem and she said that I was right and added that he had a brother named Al. I was then sure we were talking about the same fellow. The crux of the story, darling, is that he was killed about 3 weeks ago when his plane crashed during a take off for a bombing raid. I can tell you this because the death has been published. Well I was stunned. It seemed that she met him a few months ago and got to know him really well. He was a swell fellow, very nice looking and from what I heard – a helluva good bombardier. It must have been a terrific blow to Al and Lil because they were very fond and proud of him. Their mother and father died within the past 3-4 years and the boys were very close to each other. I felt rotten all day and realized I had to write. I had written Lil only a few days before in answer to her letter that all was well at home. Honestly, dear, it was one of the most difficult letters I’ve ever had to write. The only solace I was able to give them was the fact that I knew where he’s buried and if possible I promised to go to his grave and say a prayer or something.

Well, Sweetheart, I didn’t want to write you about it – but I promised to tell you everything that goes on – and I thought you ought to know about this – having met Lil and Al.

Darling I well remember that night at the Copley when you acted so “forward”. Are you squirming, dear? I will never let you think you proposed to me, though, because actually, you didn’t. What you did do – was to hint that something like that from me wouldn’t entirely find a deaf ear. And I was thrilled at the thought. When I actually told you I loved you – I honestly don’t know myself. I know I felt like telling you very early – but I was unaccustomed to talking or sounding like that – and it was difficult for me to say the words. Darling – you sure did change me a lot – in that respect.

Concerning Leap year and your authority – Miss Rogers – all I can say is Phooey!! Anyway – our status is settled and you don’t have to ask me. I won’t have it anyway! If I want to marry someone – I want to do the asking, for if anything – I wouldn’t want my wife throwing the fact that she proposed – up to me. Now – let’s get it straight right now, sweetheart: I am asking you to marry me – the very first chance we get. I hope, darling, that I’m making it very very clear.

In closing, darling – I will criticize a recent artistic attempt on your part, to wit, an angel? with a harp. I’ll excuse the shape of the harp, but Sweetheart – the angel looks at least 2-3 months pregnant! Nuff Sed!!

So long – dearest, I love you very very hard and make no mistake about it. Will you marry me?

All my deepest love –

Greg

Regards to everyone

Love

G.

* TIDBIT *

about the Loss of Maurice G. Zetlan


2nd Lieutenant Maurice G. Zetlan

Maurice Zetlan usually flew with the crew of "HANG THE EXPENSE", below:

CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE

"HANG THE EXPENSE"
with both her Flight and Ground Crews (left to right)
Standing: John (NMI) Mytko, John R. (Dick) Johnson, Frank E. Valesh,
Maurice G. Zetlan, John E. Booth, Paul J. Carbone, Sherman M. Nelson
Kneeling: Nels O. Davidson, Lloyd M. Holland, Louis (NMI) Black, Jr.,
Roy (NMI) Urich, Herschel H. Broyles, J. Sambrailo, Ernest M. Jordan,
Harold C. Wildrick (The Crew Chief)

But on Monday, 24 January, 1944, according to John R. (Dick) Johnson, Zetlan had asked off the crew for personal reasons and this day was flying with A.O. "Four Mile" Drummond on an aircraft named "SKIPPER".

That day, at 7 am, both "HANG THE EXPENSE" and "SKIPPER", B-17s of the 100th Bomb Group, (known as the bloody hundredth, for the losses they suffered during the war) took off from their base at Thorpe Abbotts, near Dickleburgh, Norfolk. They set out to bomb a metal works at Frankfurt. They were part of a large formation of aircraft from many USAAF bases in the area. Due to bad weather the planes were recalled while over France.

"SKIPPER" (42-3307), of 351 Squadron, did not get as far as France. The pilot, Arch Drummond, was one of the group's more experienced pilots. As the B-17F withdrew its undercarriage in the semi-darkness, the crew kept a wary eye out for other bombers, as aircraft level with them and above were difficult to see. "SKIPPER" continued climbing straight ahead. At 700 feet, Arch, and his co-pilot Claude E. Schindler were horrified to see the lights of another aircraft, a B-24, coming across their path. The captain flashed his powerful landing lights to warn the approaching aircraft to keep out of their airspace. The plane did not alter its course. To avoid a collision, the bomber dived steeply and banked right. The pilot then tried to level out, but hit the left wing on a barn, at High London Farm Shelfanger, Norfolk, about 7 miles from Thorpe Abbotts.

"Skipper" before a flight and after crash and loss of Zetlan

The impact ruptured a fuel tank and the B-17 caught fire. The aircraft then crashed through a group of trees, and came to halt in a meadow, approximately 300 yards from the farm, with debris strewn everywhere. During the initial impact, Maurice Zetlan was thrown through the front nose, apparently breaking his neck. He died instantly. When the plane came to a standstill the rest of the crew quickly left the burning aircraft, aware "SKIPPER" was loaded with highly inflammable incendiaries. First at the scene was Farmer David Drummond of Old Boyland Hall Farm, Bressingham. He found the other 9 airmen suffering from shock, sheltering by a haystack .

The Crew of the B-17 Flying Fortress "SKIPPER" were:

    Lt. Arch J. Drummond (pilot) - slightly injured
    Lt. Claude E. Sdchindler (co-pilot) - slightly injured
    Lt. Frank J. McGuire (navigator) - injured with burns
    Lt. Maurice G. Zetlan (bombardier) - killed
    Tech. Sgt. Sidney A. Cary (top turett gunner) - injured
    Tech. Sgt Talbert E. Spenoff (radio operator) - injured
    S/Sgt. John R. Pendleton (gunner) - injured
    Sgt. Steven M. Szekely (gunner) - injured
    S/Sgt. Guthrie H. Head (right waist gunner) - injured
    S/Sgt. Nicholas Perovich (tail gunner) - injured

Maurice's usual aircraft and crew also met with difficulty that day. On their January 24, 1944 Frankfurt mission, Roy Urich was blown out of the tail section of "HANG THE EXPENSE". Urich, to everyone's surprise survived and became a POW. Legend has it the 100th crews saw Roy hurling through the formation still in his seat with his guns still firing. Dick Johnson recalled it this way:

We were recalled shortly before reaching the target and bombed a power plant as a target of opportunity. It was supposedly near Zukunft but I cannot verify this as my log for this mission was not returned to me.

It was a slow go home as we were bucking a very strong head wind. For reasons I will never understand the lead aircraft took us directly over an airfield near Ostend. I called Frank and he called the leader. All he got for his pains was a call to shut up by Magee Fuller. We were sitting ducks at 12,000 feet and a ground speed of about 95 knots courtesy of that head wind. I actually saw the guns go off on the ground (There were four distinct flashes) and a few seconds later there was one hellava jolt. I can still hear Paul Carbone calling on the interphone to say "Roy's gone!" The aircraft nosed up sharply and Frank, fearing a stall and a spin, gave the order to standby to bail out. However, he snapped on the AFCE (automatic pilot) and found he had elevator control by these means. This enabled him to bring the bird back under control and he told us to stick around.

There was no rudder control at all and the elevators answered only to the AFCE. Only the ailerons answered to the stick. Once things were under control Frank called "Mayday" on the emergency channel and two P-47's were right there. I plotted the shortest route to the English coast and Eastchurch was the first airfield we saw. The air sea rescue pilots kept urging us to jump but once they saw we were committed to land they buzzed the field to keep it clear for us. Frank offered us the chance to jump but all hands elected to stay with the aircraft. We did, however, take the precaution of assuming ditching stations during the actual landing. It proved to be an unnecessary precaution as Frank and John combined to grease that thing in.

I cannot remember how we got back to Thorpe Abbotts but we probably had to take the train. We also probably had hangovers as the RAF at Eastchurch were generous with their whisky. By the time we did get back the lead crew had been sent on a 7 day flak leave and we were kept twiddling our thumbs. Just before they were due back we were sent on a similar leave. This kept us apart for almost two weeks which was probably good thinking on the part of the brass as it just may have prevented bloodshed. I guess I have never fully forgiven them in my heart and I'm still sore that Valesh and Booth did not get a medal for bringing that airplane home.

Here is a picture of the tail after "HAND THE EXPENSE" returned to England and landed at East Church fighter base.

"Hang the Expense" with Tail Damage

26 February, 1944

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 527 % Postmaster, N.Y.

England

26 February, 1944      0945

Good morning, sweetheart –

It’s kind of damp and raw here today – but maybe it’s nice in Newton now. Anyway it’s another Saturday morning and they sure are rolling by.

Yesterday, darling, I wrote you about inspecting officers, etc. There’s only one thing more irritating than getting ready for inspections – and that is getting ready and not having the inspectors show up. That’s what happened yesterday and my boys were pretty angry about it because they really work hard getting ready for one. Yesterday, too, I didn’t get any mail from you dear, but that was the first day in some while that I’ve missed.

I’ve just re-read a letter of yours from early February in which you mention some dizzy song about horses eating oats – or something. No dear – we haven’t heard it here at all. As a matter of fact the current rage, for some reason or other, is still “If I Had my Way etc.”. Some orchestras have started playing “They’re Either Too Young etc.” recently but no one here has even heard of “People Will Say We’re in Love” which I imagine must be well on its way out at home. They really don’t have a decent band here at all – from those I hear on the radio, anyway. They never seem to loosen up at all. It was a pleasure the other morning to hear a re-broadcast half-hour program with T. Dorsey and company. He really gave out with “The One O’Clock etc.” and an oldie “And the Angels Sing”. It was in the morning and during sick call at the Dispensary where we have a radio. I had to stop what I was doing just long enough to prance about a little.

Oh incidentally – I don’t think you’ll have trouble with my women patients. They were nice to me, Sweetheart, but don’t forget, I was single and some of them must have had their motherly instinct aroused in them. (heh! heh!) When I’m married, dear, I think it will make a great deal of difference – and besides, you summed it up when you said you could trust me. I love you, darling, and how could I be interested in other women, let alone my patients?

Darling I found amusing your statement that you played cribbage with yourself. That must have been something to watch. Did you cheat very much? I accept any challenge regardless of how many tricks you have learned, dear.

I’m picking up some of the loose threads from a few of your letters of the past 10 days or so. You mention having seen “Berkeley Square.” I can’t really remember whether I read it or saw it – or what. I can say this though, darling – I’ve been to Berkeley Square and can’t see why they’ve written plays about it or written songs, either. That one about the ‘Nightingale Sings in Berkeley Sq’ is really silly – after you’ve seen the place. I suppose though that in each case there’s some hidden significance.

I’m glad, sweetheart, that you’re doing a little reading. It’s awfully easy to get out of the habit and also very easy to start reading worthless books. I know that in past years I was guilty of the former. I’ve caught up a little since I’ve been in the Army – whenever I can get a hold of a book. The last one – I mentioned – “Oliver Wiswell’ – by Kenneth Roberts. Darling I wish you’d get hold of that book and read it. It was wonderfully done, it’s about New England, mentions Milton, Boston, Dorchester, Salem often, has a lovely love theme running throughout it – and scattered discussions about war and what it does to people – that is really excellent. Read it – because it involves a fellow away at war – from the girl he loves. She lives in Milton, by the way – and that isn’t too far from Newton Every time the author mentioned her – I could think only of you. I’m certain you’ll enjoy the book.

Well – today’s letter, sweetheart, brought in a lot of disconnected thoughts – but no matter how you look at it, darling, they all add up to the fact that I love you very much and miss you more than I can possibly let you know. We’re going to have so many things to discuss when I get back and marry you – that I’m positive we can never have a dull moment. So long for now – dearest. I’ll write again tomorrow. Until then – you have

All my love

Greg.

Regards to the folks

Love

G.

* TIDBIT *

about Some Songs Mentioned in this Letter

"Dizzy song about horses eating oats - or something"
Mares eat Oats (1944)
By Milton Drake, Al Hoffman and Jerry Livingston in 1943
Performed by Pied Pipers


"No one has ever heard of..."
People Will Say We're in Love(1944)
By Rodgers and Hammerstein for the musical "Oklahoma!" in 1943
Performed by: Frank Sinatra


"Had to stop what I was doing... to prance around a little bit"
One O'Clock Jump (1942)
By Count Basie 1937
Performed by: Count Basie and His Orchestra

25 February, 1944

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 527 % Postmaster, N.Y.

England

25 February, 1944        1010

Dearest sweetheart –

I suppose if we had to fight the war without any inspections it would be a very dull war indeed. No sooner have you gotten over one of them, but you’re preparing for another. We thought we were through for awhile after the one I wrote you about a few days ago; today, however, we’re getting ready for two inspecting teams, from different sources. At least we hope to kill two birds with one stone.

Darling, when I’m running an office of my own, again, you’ll have to announce special inspection times, so I can “buck” for them – as they say in the Army. I’ll probably come to attention when you enter the room, salute and say “Sir, Captain A., commanding the Medical Detachment, reporting.”

Anyway, dear, while I was waiting for the inspecting teams to make their appearance – I thought I’d write you a few lines anyway – for a start.

I got your letter of Feb 12th – yesterday and that’s the fastest service in a long while now. From what you write, darling, you’ve really had some snow in February. I rather miss it. I used to like plowing around in it – and pardon my pride, dear, but the sidewalk around our house was always the first one cleaned. How’s that? Even when I was practicing in Salem – I used to insist on helping clean the sidewalk after a storm, although Mrs. Tucker would insist it wasn’t quite the thing.

Do I remember the nights we’ve gone out together, dear? How can you ask such a thing? I’ve relived them a hundred times already – in my mind, and shall continue to, no doubt. I’ve thought of them often in trying to analyze our love for each other, to find out on what it is based. It developed quickly. We got along so well, so easy, so naturally. And we seemed to like to do the same things. We didn’t have a good argument or disagreement – even once – which I think is a little unfortunate. It’s a natural thing to have – and I often wonder how we’ll act in one. I have no fear about it, mind you, because presumably two intelligent persons can straighten things out between them – after a certain amount of stubbornness has been dissipated by either side.

Now, dear, what in the world gave you the idea that I’d think you were forward when you mentioned that you wished we were engaged? I had wished it, too, you remember – but I told you why I hadn’t done anything about it. The reason always was that I wanted people and our folks, particularly, not to look at us as a couple of kids who were rushing headlong into something. I wanted time to elapse – so that our wanting to become engaged would make sense. I think that with seven months elapsed, with your still feeling the way you do about me, with there being no question in my mind at all that you are the girl I’m in love with and want to marry – that our engagement, no matter how far off I am – makes some sense. It announces to anyone who cares to know – that when the war is over, and all has gone well, we intend to get married. It will make our getting married right after I arrive there logical and less hurried. But whatever you do, Sweetheart, don’t you think you put the idea into my head. Cupid took care of that for me – whoever he is.

You mention the fact, dear, that you hope the roads are clear so that my folks can come over. I read that over a few times – because it was news to me. I was tickled, though, and I’m anxious to hear how it was arranged and everything about it. That’s swell, because that gives us a good start. I hope your folks like mine and vice versa – because the Lord knows – that’s a good percentage in having a happy married life.

Well, darling, the inspectors haven’t arrived as yet, but they should be here soon. I’ll close now – and I’m jut praying that everything will go along well so that I can really call you my fiancée. I love you dear, and that’s what I want.

All my love for now

Greg

Best regards home.

Love

G.

* TIDBIT *

about the Boston Blizzard on February 12th, 1944

CLICK ON PICTURE TO ENLARGE

Some of the 200 British sailors
who reported to the Boston and Maine railroad
to clear tracks and switches
after winter’s first heavy blizzard, Feb. 12, 1944.
(AP Photo)

24 February, 1944

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 527 % Postmaster, N.Y.

England

24 February, 1944         1345

Dearest darling Wilma -

I’ve really been a different sort of fellow since I heard from you concerning the possibility of our becoming engaged. I’ve felt close to you up to now, dear, but just the thought of being engaged to you makes me feel so much more attached to you. I wrote my folks and told them what I had in mind and how I felt about you. I know they’ll be heartily in favor of it. So the big question is your folks. I’ll not write them until I hear from you in answer to my letter of a couple of days ago.

This morning, dear, it was beautiful outside. There was a good sky and a fairly strong sun. The air was still ‘twangy’, but there was just the earliest suggestion of Spring to it; it was the kind of morning we used to look for our baseball mitts and start throwing ‘em around. I took a ride to the Station Hospital where a couple of our men are. The countryside looked so fresh and clean. Gee wouldn’t I love to have had you to go walking with or riding with! I got back at noon, ate, and after a few things were taken care of – I started this letter.

In one of yours, which I received a few days ago – you mentioned an incident about a Jewish nurse named Aronson. I remember the name because I had a patient by that name who died – by the way – following an operation for an ovarian cyst. She was extremely fat and a poor surgical risk. Dr. Finnegan operated and I assisted. She died from a condition called paralytic ileus – which means the bowel distends and refuses to work. It occurs occasionally after an op. and more usually in old, obese people. Anyway – this nurse was related to her. I didn’t know she lived in Salem – and I don’t know why she should wonder if I were married. I’m not worried about rumors, darling, because in this case it’s no rumor. Anyway, you should have told her you were going to marry me – and that would have taken care of the matter.

By the way – you mention a “Valentine” gift. Now, darling, I never used the word “gift” as I remember. I said ‘trinket’. However – I do think of you, Sweetheart, all the time, and if anything I send you makes you realize that, I’m glad. I don’t think I mentioned to you that I’m sending you copies of the Stars and Stripes – our daily newspaper. We were under the impression that it was not allowed to be sent. I heard last week that is was permissible. From point of view of news, it will be late, of course; but I thought you might like to look over a paper that’s printed solely for soldiers. I also enclosed a rather quaint map of London which I got on one of my trips. It’s laid out in streets and gives you a perfect idea of what London is.

I don’t know, dear, what letters of mine you have found ‘changed’ – for I don’t feel that way. If I haven’t written, darling, how lonesome I’ve been – it’s not because I’m still not so – terribly so. As a matter of fact I’m glad that some of my letters sound somewhat free of that spirit. I can assure you, dear, that if I wrote you exactly how I feel sometimes – it would only make you unhappy.

Sweetheart – in reference to your question as to how much I’m telling you – and how – etc. – believe me, dear, I’m telling you all I can. If I tried to tell you more – it would only be censored. The fact is that there’s practically nothing that has occurred since my arrival here that you don’t know. By now you should have figured out about when I arrived and where. You also ought to have guessed what our mission has been so far. Have you? Beyond that – there’s not a darned thing that’s really secret. The whole country is so small that to localize one’s self is really unnecessary – even if allowed. Did you get a card from me recently, by the way? If I ever change significantly, dear, you’ll probably be aware of it in one way or another – although a space between letters is not necessarily indicative of that – as you now know.

Well, darling, that’s about all for now. The Colonel’s coming over this p.m. and we’ve got to get ready for him. This is the Army, you know. Solong for now, then, dear, and you have

My sincerest love

Greg.

* TIDBIT *

about Censorship in WWII

The censors were sensitive to two important areas in World War II. First, they didn't want a soldier to say anything that would be of value to the enemy. Second, it was considered very important in wartime for officers to know about morale issues.

Of primary importance, both at home and overseas, was the secrecy of where and how strong the troops were. "Loose lips sink ships" was a common phrase in WWII. Here are a few posters for both the soldiers and the folks back home:

CLICK ON POSTERS TO ENLARGE

The soldiers were all given guidance on what they could say, so one might think they would know how to avoid getting their mail intercepted, but not all did. From "Loose Lips Sink Ships: Eyewitness to History" comes this excerpt from a document given to soldiers entering a battle area:

THERE ARE TEN PROHIBITED SUBJECTS

1. Don't write military information of Army units -- their location, strength, materiel, or equipment.
2. Don't write of military installations.
3. Don't write of transportation facilities.
4. Don't write of convoys, their routes, ports (including ports of embarkation and disembarkation), time en route, naval protection, or war incidents occurring en route.
5. Don't disclose movements of ships, naval or merchant, troops, or aircraft.
6. Don't mention plans and forecasts or orders for future operations, whether known or just your guess.
7. Don't write about the effect of enemy operations.
8. Don't tell of any casualty until released by proper authority (The Adjutant General) and then only by using the full name of the casualty.
9. Don't attempt to formulate or use a code system, cipher, or shorthand, or any other means to conceal the true meaning of your letter. Violations of this regulation will result in severe punishment.
10. Don't give your location in any way except as authorized by proper authority. Be sure nothing you write about discloses a more specific location than the one authorized.

Finally, although no taboo was mentioned in the ten prohibitions listed above, the censors confiscated letters that used graphic language dealing with sex. Some senders would keep having their letters confiscated, never receiving any notice of the offense. Sadly, letters written in foreign languages by immigrants or the children of immigrants, more comfortable communicating home in their native language, usually were not delivered because the typical censor didn't know what they said.

While the main purpose of censorship was to keep information from the enemy, reading the outgoing mail also provided military officials with information about the beliefs and behavior of the troops, especially complaints and misconduct. Officers were watching for any weakening of desire among the troops. Morale reports by intelligence personnel censors included remarks about Army food, military leaders, furlough policies, entertainment facilities, race relations, mail service, popular rumors and enemy propaganda. Censors classified and tallied comments reflecting the soldiers' collective state of mind, giving a range of opinions, emphasizing the most common ones. This was done in an anonymous fashion although the authors' rank, division and APO were identified. Through this intelligence officers could track shifts in soldiers' concerns and attitudes over the course of the war.

The enlisted soldier was censored by an officer in his unit, and the officers were self-censored. They didn't have anyone looking at their mail regularly, although the higher level staff or base censors would randomly check officers' letters to keep an eye on them. Officers seemed to say more in their letters, possibly either because they knew better what was allowed or because they knew their mail often was not censored.

23 February, 1944

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 527 % Postmaster, N.Y.

England

23 February, 1944

Dearest Sweetheart -

This afternoon I received a few more letters, scattered, but precious nevertheless. They were from Jan 27, Feb 3, 6 and 10th. First, darling, let me take up the subject of my “bashfulness” – as you put it. I guess maybe I am. You know, dear, I never discussed the subject of girls very much with my folks. Most of the relationship, and it’s sincere, in my family, has always been a tacit one. So that for example – if I brought you home to meet my folks – as I wrote yesterday, that meant more to them than all the statements of love in the world. But of course there comes a times when you do have to say something. Before I left – I spoke to my folks and told them I had met a girl who I thought would make me happy and who cared for me. I told them it was unfortunate that I had to leave so soon – because I knew if I stayed around I would want to be engaged to you and marry you. They echoed my feelings of regret that I hadn’t met you sooner. The point is, darling, without my actually using the words “I love her” – they knew how I felt about you.

The letter my mother quoted to you – was free translation and although I don’t remember the exact words, knowing my mother – she’s as bashful as I am and didn’t want to embarrass you, perhaps. This is awfully hard to explain, darling – but I am doing the best I can.

Anyway, the point is I do love you, dear, and would like nothing better than to be engaged to you – and the quicker the better. At the time my mother told you she had heard from me and you got my letter too, I wish you had told her what I wrote. I know what she’d say. My folks really love you – more than I realized. Today I got a letter from my Dad and he mentioned you again, dear. He wrote that my mother is lonesome for me and if he wants to get a smile out of her – all he has to do is mention your name and she responds immediately and says “Oy a gesund zu ihr”. I trust, dear, you know what that means.

I’m waiting to hear your reaction to my letter of yesterday. More important – it’s your folks’ reaction that I’m interested in – because they must feel it is right.

The fact that you and your mother both dreamed of me must have some significance – sweetheart. When I get back I’ll really kiss her. I’m so happy when I think of all we have to look forward to – I can hardly express myself adequately.

I want to mention a subject now that you won’t like perhaps, dear, but since we must always be on the absolute square, I must tell you. I’ll feel better if you know – because we have no secrets from each other. You know of course that I had known a nurse, non-Jewish, very well – before I met you. You’ve always been swell, and understanding too, in not asking me about her. The whole thing was unfortunate, I mean my going out with her and seeing her for month after month – but in self defense, I was a lonesome fellow in my early days at Salem and there were no Jews around. Anyway – you know – we said ‘good-bye' and parted.

I hadn’t heard from her ever since then, I never wrote and neither did she – and that’s the way that was best. I won’t say I didn’t wonder from time to time what had become of her – but that’s as far as it went. I met you, darling, and immediately realized what a fool I had been for those years I had gone out with her – not because she wasn’t nice – but because she was non-Jewish. I believe I told you something about this. No – it wasn’t rebound – as is so easy to be accused of – my love for you. I enjoyed your company so genuinely when I met you – I was ‘mad’ with myself for not having given myself the opportunity before. I knew immediately that I had wasted years and that I was crazy to think of anything but a Jewish girl; I knew this darling – as a result of meeting you and loving you.

What I started to write was that I heard from Alice yesterday. It was a little card stating simply that she had heard I was overseas and using my old address – wished me good luck. What you won’t like, darling, is that I sent her an equally well-wishing note – but I wanted you to know the truth. That’s all there is to it, dear. She’s out of my life, believe me, but I had to do the gentlemanly thing, dear. I’m sure she bears me no ill-will, nor I her. She’s very much interested in a Lieutenant Senior Grade in the Navy. He’s of the same religion and she feels she’ll be happy. Darling – that’s all there is to it, but I feel better telling you about it. I’d expect the same from you, and I know I’d get it. I shudder when I think of what unhappiness I’d have brought on myself, my family and eventually on her – had I continued to go with her. Some guiding Spirit must have given me the light to sever my relations with her.

What do you think? Are you angry with me, dear? I sincerely hope your aren’t. You mustn’t be for you know my feelings about you – and as you wrote – you must have confidence in me, too. Well – I feel better having told you about it –and that’s enough of that.

Back to us – have you told any of the girls about the possibility of our being engaged? I wonder what they would say. I suppose you’ll get all sorts of advice – but, darling, as far as I’m concerned – if your folks only give their consent – that’s all I need and we’ll go right ahead. You know – I’ll get an awfully big thrill out of that realization – that I’m engaged. It will give me such a sense of security and ambition that you can’t possible imagine.

I hope the mail service is good in the next few weeks – so I can hear from you soon. Meanwhile, Sweetheart, my love is all yours – now as for always – because it’s deep-seated, sincere and strong. So long for now, dear, and

All my love, darling

Greg.

Best regards to your family

Love

G.

22 February, 1944

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 527 % Postmaster, N.Y.

England

22 February, 1944       1300

My dearest Sweetheart -

Washington’s Birthday, I believe – and just another day here. Yet I feel particularly happy today because yesterday I received your letter of February 9th in which you answer a question I put before you some time before then – by mail. At the moment, the details seem insignificant, darling; the fact is that you are willing to be engaged to me, and that’s what counts.

Let me answer an important question right away. You ask why I decided I’d like to be engaged, now that I’m away. One thing you must remember, darling, and that is that I felt I’d like to be engaged to you before I left – but I didn’t want you or your folks to think I was rushing into things. I’d have liked nothing better though, I can assure you, dear, because I knew then that you were the girl I’d like to marry.

I knew your age, dear; I felt your folks believed you were young, hadn’t seen too much of the world, etc., – and if we spoke to them about an Engagement, I knew they would resent it – and rightly so, too.

Besides all that, despite your statements, which I always believed, mind you, – I still didn’t think it fair to “tie you up”, so to speak – without giving yourself a chance to really see how you felt. I was seeing you a lot, paying you a good deal of attention and I wondered just how you would feel after I was gone. You can understand that, dear, can’t you?

Well, why mention it now, then? Darling – I’ve wanted to mention it several times – but made myself wait. I don’t know now whether or not I brought the subject up too soon. I do know that more than three months have elapsed since we said ‘au revoir’ and I feel the way I did before I left, and what is more importantly, you do, too. I said in a letter recently, each passing day, week or month in which we still feel as if we were meant for each other – gives our love more stability, dignity and meaning. If you can continue to be interested in me even though I’m so far away, if I can still feel that no other girl can mean anything to me but you, darling – than the subject of Engagement begins to make more and more sense, not only to us, but to our folks and everyone else.

Now – as to details – that’s another question altogether. First of all – it would certainly be nice to have our folks meet. It’s a rather difficult thing to do, I know, with me away, – but then – these are unusual times. The less formal the meeting the better, I would say off hand. I wish my folks had gone into your house that night they brought you home – but knowing my mother – I can understand. My father is much more free and easy. Perhaps the next time you visit my folks darling, you can get them to go in. I’ll mention it to them when I write, too. I honestly don’t know any other way, right now – do you? After they’ve met once – my folks will invite yours down, vice versa – and presto – they know each other. I know dear that it’s not as easy as all that, but what can I do from here? You will just have to be a liason officer – as the Army would put it.

Now, actually, how about your folks? Do they really feel that I want to marry you, or is it only your side of the question that they really appreciate? Of course – if I were in Boston – I would speak to your parents and tell them I wanted to marry you, believed I could provide you with the things you were accustomed to have, and more than all that, that I could make you happy, as my wife. I would tell them I was aware of our age difference, but that in knowing you – I never felt that you were so much younger – or I so much older. I would make them see, dear, that we were compatible and that I thought we were matched. Telling them that, darling, would be easy, I think – although I suppose I might feel somewhat meek when I was actually doing it.

Writing to your Dad – is different. For one thing, I’d hate to be premature about it and therefore put him on the spot as what to answer me. I really don’t know how to tackle that angle – although the old maxim went ‘faint heart never won fair maiden’. Can you give me just a little more inclination as to what you think would be the best approach, sweetheart?

Now suppose we finally exchange our ideas and your folks consent? They would realize that it was not just a passing romance and that we really wanted to get married. Then I don’t think it would be a crazy idea, after all, to become engaged. The fact is that it should be an Engagement and not a marriage. To make myself perfectly clear, darling, I mean just this: I am after all – a soldier now, and as such – anything can happen to me before war’s end. I might not come back, or I might not come back the way I’d like to. I am not being dramatic, sweetheart, as you know. What I’m driving at is that being engaged is not like being married. You haven’t completely committed yourself – and if anything should happen to me – I guess you know that in one case I couldn’t marry you and in another I wouldn’t want to. If your folks understand how I feel about the matter – perhaps they will understand more easily that I’m not trying to rush things, pin you down – or any other such thing, Sweetheart. I don’t like to write so coldly, but I love you darling and must have you know my every thought.

Assuming then that everything was understood – the next logical step would be for me to give you a ring – and how I’d love to do that! I don’t know your taste on that matter, sweetheart. Some girls like to pick their rings, others – to be surprised. The point is my father’s a peach along those lines and I know he’d get one for me. I have the money for it and I’d love to spend it on you. As for announcing it – never having been engaged before, dear – I know little about it. I believe girls do, though – and you can tell me about it.

Now – after what you’ve read, have I answered some of your questions? Does it still seem too difficult? Do you think we can do it? I’ll await your reply eagerly darling, because nothing has excited me in my life – so much as this thought. However – if you feel we ought to wait, I’m going to leave that up to you, dear, until such a time as you think it would be better. For me – the sooner the better!

Darling the very thought thrills me, and I can’t wait until I hear from you again. All else – including the war – seems unimportant. Your mention of Stan as a “pest” and hounding you – I discussed in yesterday’s letter. Please, dear, why don’t you just tell him not to bother you, call you etc.? I hope you’re not going out with him. Tell him we’re to be engaged – See if that makes any difference.

I’ll stop now, darling, and I do hope to hear from you soon – in answer to this letter. Best regards to your folks. Will you tell them about this letter, dear, and see what they say?

So long, dear, and

All my love is yours

Greg

P.S. I’ll drop Bea a note –

Thanks for her address

21 February, 1944

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 527 % Postmaster, N.Y.

England

21 February, 1944      0930

Dearest darling Wilma -

Another early start today but this time because I have a few things to do later and I wanted to be certain I had written to you first. I’m going over to visit one of my other batteries this morning and we’ll probably have lunch there. I also have to visit the Medical Supply Depot and take care of our monthly requisition. That’s usually a long drawn out affair.

Yesterday, darling, was quiet and restful all day. In the evening there was a little excitement, shall I say; I went over to Operations and found that very interesting. Incidentally, darling, if I ever mention “excitement”, please don’t say anything about it to my folks because they’d worry themselves sick – and unnecessarily, too. I got to bed at 2230 and was awakened at 2315. I was later awakened at 0315. It was almost like the old days in practice, i.e. the getting up –

I got two more letters, sweetheart, yesterday, written the 19th and the 20th, and a very nice letter from your Mother – who intimates that someone in the household is fond of me. I wonder who?

The letter of the 19th shows me that a girl thinks of one thing in respect to marriage and a fellow – of something else – but that’s the way it should be. I wrote you just the other day that somehow I look beyond the actual preparation etc., and find ourselves in Salem. Naturally you can’t project yourself the same way. Had I not been already set up in Salem, dear, – neither would I. But the fact is I had been in practice for a couple of years. I had met enough people to make myself feel as if I belonged in Salem – and the result is it seems perfectly natural for me to dream about us being there and taking up where I left off. I haven’t a doubt in the world but what you’ll fit into Salem without and trouble at all. I suppose I told you this before – but I can remind you again – if it’s anything like what it was for me, dear, our circle of friends will be bigger among the non-Jews than the Jewish. That will be due simply because there are more of the former in Salem. Regardless, though, I’m certain we’ll have a lot of friends and that they’ll all like you.

Your letter of the 20th – made me do a lot of thinking, sweetheart, and not because you needed help in deciding about your job. For one thing – you made up your mind about that already – and I think you were correct. Getting to be a buyer had no real ultimate point, darling, because you don’t expect to be doing it as a career, anyway. And having to struggle as a salesgirl in the interim – doesn’t seem worthwhile. Perhaps you’ll land something a little more suited to your background.

But that isn’t what made me do my thinking, darling. Your mention of Stan, again, did though. Ever since I’ve known you, for some reason or another, Stan has been in the background – whether he was doing little things for you, calling you about your watch, or telling you one thing and me another. Stan and I have been close friends for 10 or 15 years as you well know – but he changed a great deal after his illness – and apparently, not only physically –

Now since I left, from time to time his name has cropped up in your writing and mine. First it was in reference to Shirley and there’s no doubt now in my mind that he was continually telling us different stories. Whatever they were, he was always managing to see or call you and telling you about it. He ended up by saying that he was through – when the reverse seems more likely. The fact is he did tell you once that he finally knew he was in love. What made him change his mind, I wonder?

Whatever it was, why does he have to confide in you so much and call and see you so often? But what makes me really ‘mad’ is your statement that he has done and said things that made you quite angry. What things, dear? Why should he say and do things that should make you feel that way? Darling – you might as well tell me everything that’s going on – because otherwise my imagination will merely run rampant and that shouldn’t be. You need not fear that I will write him and say anything about it, for example. If they are things you don’t like, I feel you’re capable and sensible enough to handle them yourself. But if you’re being nice to him just for my sake, you’re making a very big mistake. I’ve always been on the up-and-up with Stan in every respect – ever since I’ve known him. I’ve gone out with him a lot in the past, introduced him to a lot of nice people in Salem and Marblehead and he always was welcome wherever I went. He did me a lot of favors, but darling, I believe I always repaid them in many many ways.

The fact is that after all that – I feel that one way or another, Stan is not on the square with me right now and it bothers me. For one thing, I don’t like to lose a good friend, and for another – I don’t want him troubling you. Why doesn’t he leave you alone? He apparently is in constant touch with you, and I might as well be frank, dear, I don’t like it. You can call it jealousy or some other name – but I have felt uncomfortable about it ever since you went out with him that night and he never mentioned it. I didn’t trust him from that time on. Now with his Shirley affair apparently over with – he seems to have found a new interest. Stan is very smooth and very good company; he does have a zest for living and a generally good manner – as you say – but if he’s acting in such a way as to make you write you were quite angry, I certainly wish you would discourage him.

Will you write me, dear, and tell me everything? I feel you’ve been shielding him – not because you want to hide anything from me – but because you don’t want to start any trouble between us. Well – don’t worry about that. I was on my guard right after your mother tipped me off a long time ago.

I’m sorry, Sweetheart, that I’ve had to write in this tone. We’ve been corresponding for a long time now and I’ve written a good many letters – but none quite like this one – and I hated to do it. But I must be honest with you at all times. I love you too much, dear, to let anything interfere with us, no matter who it is. Yes. I bless the day that brought us together and always shall. The fact that you always reassure me that my love is reciprocated is one of the nicest things a guy away from home – in love with a girl – can read and sweetheart it always makes me so happy to read it. My plans and thought of the future are so inextricably interwoven with you – that I can’t conceive of anything but you and me together, married and happy – after the war. And that’s the way it will be – with God’s help.

Excuse me again, darling, for writing the way I did, but your letter did arouse me. I hope you write me everything about Stan. I’ll feel easier if you tell me and I know.

That’s all the time I have for now, dearest, but I’ll repeat again – I love you so very much – I resent any outside interference. Do you blame me, dear? Best regards to everyone and for now

All my love

Greg