26 October 1944

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

Germany

26 October, 1944       1300

My dearest fiancée –

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

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

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

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

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

All for now, darling; love to the folks and

All my deepest love

Greg

* TIDBIT *

about Gabriel Heatter
Commentator


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

25 October 1944

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

Germany

25 October, 1944         1600

My dearest sweetheart –

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

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

Pictures from Greg's ordered trip to Aachen.

CLICK ON PICTURES TO ENLARGE

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


Cafe Vaterland is serving beer again these days


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


"Aachen - Music Building"


Theatre Aachen Today


"Aachen"

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

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

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

All my sincerest devotion

Greg

* TIDBIT *

about Accusing Ann Sheridan

Ann Sheridan, 1944

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

24 October 1944

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

Germany

24 October, 1944       1100

My dearest darling –

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My deepest love, Sweetheart

Greg.

* TIDBIT *

ORDERS!

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

CLICK ON IMAGE TO ENLARGE

23 October 1944

No letter today. Just this:

* TIDBIT *

about "Noblesse Oblige"

 

This article appeared in Time Magazine on 23 October 1944.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

22 October 1944

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

Germany

22 October, 1944       0915

My dearest sweetheart –

I just noticed that I wrote the 22nd of October; I suppose I wrote the 21st on yesterday’s letter, but I’ll be darned if I can remember. This month has gone by in the most amazing fashion.

This may have to be a shortie today, but I’d rather do that than write a V-mail. I’m starting this early in the hope that before something turns up, I’ll be able to finish it. Offhand I’d say this has been one of the worst weeks of weather and of waiting since back in Normandy when we were sitting near Carentan and waiting for a break in the rain. It was cloudy or foggy or rainy for about 3½ weeks and we just weren’t getting anywhere. And then the weather cleared and we were off. We were in that famous breakthrough at St. Lo on July 25th – as you may have guessed – and in the grand drive across France. That was really a rat-race! And now – here we are again.

Well, yesterday, despite the weather – we felt we needed a shower, so we went to the nearest shower point and managed to get one. It was a bit of an experience and if you remind me about it someday, dear, I’ll tell you about it. It was Saturday afternoon but that’s all. I sat around and decided to finish “My Son, My Son” which I had been pecking away at for some time. I finally did finish it – by evening time. I don’t know exactly whether I enjoyed it or not; it was excellently written, I thought, but too stark, too sordid and bleak for my mood. I think I’ll stick to the lighter stories for awhile – if I can get hold of them. We get quite a few through Special Service.

So I got to bed at about 8:50 and listened to the B.B.C. news at 2100 – a half-hour broadcast and always well done. That’s one thing about the English news, by the way. It may lack the fire and imagination that our broadcasts have. They’re certainly not as inspiring as our famous commentators – but they’re as accurate and factual as can be and they leave the interpretation to the individual. I’m beginning to believe that’s the best way, too.

I came across a letter of yours this morning written 29th September and I had a laugh – all over again. Darling – I think you’ll still be young enough to have children – even if this war is longer than we expect. It is I who should worry, I guess. Oh – another thing you mentioned in that letter about the boy with the same APO number as mine. I think I’ve already written you about my APO number and its significance. In case that letter didn’t get through – you were right on your guess. I don’t happen to know that Engineer outfit but it should be around here somewhere.

Yes – I do wish I were home to give you a bit of loving, darling, and a return of yours would be wonderful – but right now – that remains another one of our wishes to be fulfilled, sweetheart. And right now I see I’ve got to stop writing, dear, because a whole mess of things has just turned up and I’d better take care of it. I forgot to say – we didn’t get any mail again yesterday – and I sure could use a couple of your letters; – maybe this afternoon. So long for now, Sweetheart, and remember that my love for you is the most important thing in the world to me. My love to the folks –

All my everlasting love

Greg

* TIDBIT *

about Howard Spring, Author
and My Son, My Son


Howard Spring

  

My Son, My Son, written by Howard Spring in 1938, was originally titled O, Absalom!, but was re-titled for the American market because another book Absalom, Absalom had just been published. The US title was later adopted for UK reprints.

Robert Howard Spring was born in South Wales in 1889. His father and mother lived in poverty with their nine children in a small 2 bedroom house. When his father died, his mother scrubbed other peoples doorsteps and took in washing, while he and some of the other children sold firewood and rhubarb. At 12 years old he left school to work as an errand boy at a butcher's shop, hating it. His next job was as office boy with an accountant. He was there for a year and learned how to use a typewriter. He then worked at the South Wales Daily News as a messenger boy, teaching himself shorthand and attending night school. He advanced within the newspaper, first taking copy from various reporters before being invited to join the reporting staff. After failing to have his first novel accepted, he found success at short stories. After nine years with this newspaper he transferred to another, adding book reviewing to his talents. In early 1915 he obtained a reporter's job at the Manchester Guardian where he was to work for 15 years.

Unfit for active service during WW1, he joined the Army Service Corps, holding every rank including Warrant Officer, mainly attached to the Intelligence Department. His one surviving brother was killed at Arras. In 1919 he met his future wife, Marion, and they married in 1920. He spent some time in Ireland reporting on the troubles between Great Britain and Sinn Fein and was present at the fall of the Four Courts and the bombardment of the rebel headquarters.

Marion introduced him to Cornwall where she had spent her childhood holidays, a county which was to figure largely in his novels and to which they would eventually move. By 1931 his work had been noticed nationally and he began work for the Evening Standard in London as their book reviewer. His only published book at this stage, Darkie and Co., had been written for his children and he had sold all rights in it for £50.00. Reviewing new books gave him confidence to try writing a novel again and his first, Shabby Tiger (1934), was accepted by the publisher Collins. Its moderate success was enough to encourage the sequel, Rachel Rosing (1935).

His major success came with O Absalom! (1938), his first novel set in Cornwall. This and his next novel, Fame is the Spur (1940), received critical acclaim, and film rights to both were sold, putting Spring on a sound financial footing. After the publication of O Absalom! he was able to give up journalism. In 1941 he accompanied the entourage of Winston Churchill, with H. V. Morton, on the battleship Prince of Wales to Newfoundland for the meeting with President Roosevelt. He covered the incident in his second volume of autobiography In the Meantime (1942). He wrote several more novels over the years and died of a stroke in 1965.

Here is a review of My Son, My Son from the web blog Frisbee: A Book Journal, written by "a reader and bicyclist".

This spellbinding novel examines the effect of a successful writer’s poverty-stricken childhood on his later relationships - especially the bond with his golden, tragically ruined son, Oliver. Spring’s plain style and chronological storytelling create an unobtrusive framework: nothing distracts from the dry, articulate voice of the narrator, William Essex, a successful writer who has climbed up from poverty and now unflinchingly and unsentimentally scrutinizes his past relationships. His early experiences are Dickensian, without the verbal flourishes and the exaggerated comedy. During his childhood, his mother took in washing: when Bill picked up the laundry bundles, boys taunted him and often beat him up. At 12, Bill meets a kind, intellectual minister, Mr. Oliver, who employs him for the next five years and teaches him to read. When he commences work as an office boy, he meets the most important, faithful friends of his life: he rooms with the O’Riordans, who read Dickens aloud after dinner, and their son, Dermot, who is an Irish radical patriot who has never been to Ireland, an artisan who dreams of making furniture as beautiful as that of William Morris.

... Bill ruthlessly marries for money, Nellie, a conservative baker’s daughter and excellent housewife, and after they inherit her father’s business, he writes: he starts out by selling sensational stories to magazines and progresses to novels and plays. Then, inspired by seeing Dermot's beautifully-crafted wooden toys for his son, he suggests that they collaborate in the toy business. They make a fortune, while at the same time perfecting their respective arts, writing and furniture-making.

These two successful men have realized their dreams. Yet they want their sons to help them fulfill their fantasies. We helplessly watch Bill interfere with Nellie and spoil their golden son, Oliver, a ne’er-do-well, who receives every material thing he wants, becomes an accomplished liar and cheater (even stealing a book from his best friend, Rory, Dermot’s son, and later from an office), and lacks his parents intellectual and moral qualities. Nellie attempts to intercede, but Bill wants to provide Oliver with the perfect childhood he never had. Dermot is more faithful to his vision: he marries Sheila, a soulmate who shares his love of Ireland, and his son, Rory, is unspoiled, though Dermot raises him as a radical and perversely ships him to Ireland when he is in his teens.

After Nellie’s death, Bill's efforts to provide Olvier with the perfect life intensify. He excuses all of Oliver’s peccadilloes, but they finally fall out over a woman, Livia, a shallow, mixed-up, talented musician/designer who flirts with father and son and agrees to an engagement with Bill. As she is much closer in age to the beautiful Oliver than to Bill, it is clear that Bill is making an error. Oliver moves out and refuses to see his father because of the engagement. And the tragic loss of his son is the greatest grief of Bill's life.

21 October 1944

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

Germany

21 October, 1944       1000

Good Morning – Sweetheart!

I can’t remember everything I’ve written the past few days, but what I can recall is that I’ve been on the gloomy side of the fence, dear, – and that shouldn’t be. So today – despite the fact that sick call is still on, and people are coming in and out getting pills – I’m writing in the morning when my spirits are generally better. And I do feel better today, darling, and not because the weather has changed, because it hasn’t, damn it! If Hitler had a secret weapon, I’m sure it was the weather, because it sure has favored the enemy.

Say – I meant to tell you something – Remember when I wrote you about staying at the Prince’s place in Belgium? Well one of our officers – from Davenport, Iowa – wrote his folks about it too; his mother told a neighbor, the neighbor told a reporter, the reporter put the story, with elaborations, into the Davenport papers and before it was all over – the Chicago Daily news had a story on it. I saw the clipping – and darned if it didn’t read well. That was a good spot though and one I’ll remember. You should have a picture of the place by now.

I just noticed, dear, as I was writing, that covering the table on which I’m writing – is an August 31st copy of the Daily Hampshire Gazette – which Sgt. Kirby gets. I see items about Hadley, Holyoke, Easthampton etc. Ruby’s Furniture Company, for example, of Holyoke, etc. – is opening another store. Gosh – it was this time of the year that I was seeing so much of you and learning to love you by leaps and bounds! They were happy days, darling, but always clouded by the thought of my leaving any day. And leave I did. I’m glad that chapter of our lives is behind us – because it was a difficult one. I like to think that the greatest part of our hardships are behind us – although only a fool would really believe that. We’ve got life to face together, getting started, making an income, raising a family, and doing a great many other things – but the one big, tremendous difference is that we’ll do those things together and together we can face things so much better than when alone. You know, dear, I think a great deal about the time when we’re actually settled and I’m waiting for a practice to develop. And waiting is the correct word. I was never afraid of it when I was single – because a single person needs so little. I’m not afraid now, either, for that matter – but I can’t help thinking about it. Being a doctor is funny business; you just can’t bubble over with enthusiasm, pep and drive – like a salesman or a business man; you just have to “sweat” it out. That’s why I’m glad I had at least 2 years of building in Salem. I won’t be a stranger and some patients are bound to come back. And it will be so much more fun with you to help me, with you to come home to, to go out with and to plan my time off with. That’s why I get so fed up with all this here; I want to get going!! No more, I won’t go farther – because my mood is good today, sweetheart.

I’ll have to stop now, dear and do a little work. Didn’t hear from you yesterday – but no one received mail and that’s a little consolation. Hope you’re being kept busy and hope all is well at home. My love to the folks, darling –

and

My sincerest love

Greg

* TIDBIT *

about The Battle of Aachen in Early October
(Conclusion)

The content below was excerpted from two sources, Wikipedia and a former blog called "Festungen-Third Reich." (Fortress cities of Germany's Third Reich).

On 12 October, some 5,000 German defenders in Aachen, supported by assault guns and tanks, launched a major counterattack against the American 30th Infantry Division. The German attack was disrupted due to an incessant Allied artillery barrage and by well placed American anti-tank defenses and armored assets. Two German infantry regiments counterattacked against the 1st Infantry Division. On 13 October, troops of the 26th Infantry Regiment assaulted the city proper. The fighting was bitter, with the U.S. infantry accompanied by tanks and self-propelled artillery to knock out German armor and reduce strong points. Fighting was house-to-house. Infantry blasted holes in the outer walls of buildings with bazookas and then cleared resistance room by room with small arms and hand grenades. Many SS troops died at their posts rather than surrender.

On 15 October, the Germans again counterattacked against the 1st Infantry Division, in an effort to widen the gap between the two American pincers; the bulk of the German forces were destroyed by artillery and air support, although a number of heavy tanks managed to break through American lines and were only stopped after continued air support. The 30th Infantry Division, with elements of the 29th Infantry and 2nd Armored divisions, continued its push southwards and finally outflanked the German defenses, allowing the 30th and 1st Infantry Divisions to link up on 16 October.

When German troops west of Aachen tried to relieve the siege in hastily organized counterattacks, American artillery beat them back. Aachen was completely surrounded, and gradually the German defensive position shrank to a small section of the western part of the city. Success in Aachen was then measured by the number of houses captured, as the advance proved to be sluggish. To cope with the thick walls of the older buildings in the city, the 26th Infantry Regiment used howitzers at point blank range to destroy German fortifications. The howitzer allowed infantrymen to advance from building to building without having to enter the city's streets, where they could be pinned down by enemy fire. Pinned on the surface by Allied aircraft, German infantrymen used sewers to deploy behind American formations to attack them from the rear.

On 18 October, the 3rd Battalion of the 26th Infantry Regiment prepared to assault the Hotel Quellenhof, which was one of the last areas of resistance in the city. American tanks and other guns were firing on the hotel, which was the city's defense headquarters, at point blank range. That night, 300 soldiers of the 1st SS Battalion was able to reinforce the hotel and defeat several attacks into the building. A violent German counterattack managed to overrun a number of American infantry companies outside of the hotel, and temporarily released pressure off the Hotel Quellenhof before being beat off by concerted American mortar fire.

The following news photos (with descriptions), taken between 18 and 20 October 1944 in Aachen, belong to The MacArthur Museum of Arkansas Military History. They were found among PhotosNormandie's photostream on "flickr", The Allison Collection of World War II Photographs.

CLICK ON PICTURES TO ENLARGE

Two events then aided the final advance. First, to lessen front line infantry casualties, remaining German strongpoints were barraged with the heavy-artillery firepower of 155-millimeter (6.1 inch) guns. Second, to assist the 1st Infantry Division, a V Corps sector battalion was brought in to close a gap between forward 26th Infantry Regiment elements within the city. The defensive mission of this new battalion was changed 19–20 October to closely support the urban assault. On 21 October 1944, soldiers of the 26th Infantry Regiment, supported by the reinforced battalion of the 110th Infantry Regiment finally conquered central Aachen. That day also marked the surrender of the last German garrison, in the Hotel Quellenhof, ending the battle for the city.

The Battle of Aachen had cost both the Americans and Germans dearly. U.S. forces took some 12,000 German prisoners, and thousands more Germans were killed. Several hundred civilians also died. U.S. losses of 3,700 men (3,200 from the 30th Infantry Division and 500 from the 1st Infantry Division) were also high, particularly among experienced riflemen.

During the conflict the Germans had developed a respect for the fighting ability of American forces, noting their capability to fire indiscriminately with overwhelming amounts of artillery fire support and armored forces. However, German resistance at Aachen (as well as Operation Market Basket) had prevented a quick Allied crossing of the Rhine and bought Hitler time to strengthen his West Wall defenses as he planned for what would become known as "The Battle of the Bulge".

Remarkably, amidst all the ruin and destruction, Aachen’s magnificent medieval cathedral survived.

20 October 1944

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

Germany

20 October, 1944        1600

My darling –

No mail again today but I still have a couple of more of yours as yet unanswered. There have been some fellows in the outfit who have received mail within 10 days – recently. My best time in Germany has been 12 days.

Last night was another night of card playing – poker, and this time I won 100 marks. You must think, darling, as you read my letters telling you that I play cards night after night – that I’m living a pretty unproductive existence. I agree, but what in the world else can a fellow do? I read whatever Medical journals I receive – I still subscribe to the New England Journal of Medicine – but on the whole I must admit that my time is being wasted. Before I was in the Army I didn’t play cards more often than about once in two or three months – and now it seems as if we’re at it about 5 nights out of 7. It gets me down when I stop to think about it – but I don’t know what to do about it. Unfortunately – the days are mostly the same. This afternoon, for example, I saw another movie – “First Comes Courage” with B. Ahearne and Merle Oberon, another one of those damned Norway Nazi-occupied country pictures. But we take them as they come. The whole thing is such a paradox at times – sitting in an old barn watching a movie while the noise outside is sometimes deafening, as it was this afternoon. And in a picture like today’s – the situation is even crazier with explosions and shootings going on on the screen.

I guess I’m feeling kind of bitchy about things – so excuse me sweetheart. I get so goddamned fed up with my stagnancy and the waste of it all. In all my life, dear, most of the time I was doing something, – studying, practicing, gaining all the time and here I am in an unavoidable rut with my hands completely tied. Most of the fellows don’t seem to mind – but it has me down. Perhaps the overall picture will make my life richer – but from my present point of view – I don’t see it. If I didn’t have your love to think of and dream about, darling, I’m afraid I’d become incontrovertibly introspective. You’ve been such a wonderful help – that no matter how often I tell you, dear, I’ll never be able to tell you enough. You must always remember too, darling, that it is not just the idea of the thing, not the fact that I have someone to come home to – but that I have you, someone I love and who loves me. There’s all the difference in the world between the two ideas. You can’t hear me tell you I love you, dear, but you can read not only the direct words, but every thought – and I know you realize by now that my love for youis sincere, warm, deep and what is most important – it is and will be – for you alone. That’s why I hated so much to write – as I did the other day – that perhaps it might be good for you if you went out on a date now and then. I told you I’d hate the thought, sweetheart – and I meant it, but I do want you to be as happy as possible while I’m away and not find the waiting too unbearable; I don’t want you to be bored, dear, with the thought that you are inactive while there is activity going on around you. In my case – there’s not a damned thing to do about it anyway – and I wouldn’t want to. War is exciting enough as it is. I know you may become angry over some of the things I’m writing, but believe me, darling, I write it with sincerity and feeling and not as a challenge. You must believe me, too, and I know that when you think it over – you will. You’ll have to if you can think back to a year’s letter writing and all I’ve tried to tell you about my affection, and love for you in that year. The fact is I want you as I’ve wanted no one else before in my life; I want to love you – as my wife – and live my life with you – and take it from me – sweetheart – I’m going to have you!

No more of that for now. I guess I shouldn’t write like that, but you can understand. how I feel at times, dear. The weather, the slowness of things, my staleness in things medical, my inability to express my love except by the written word – they all have me down a bit – I confess; but I’ve been down before and up again and I already feel better just having written you. This thing will end and then I’ll be coming home –

All for now, dear; my love to the folks – and

My everlasting love to you

Greg

* TIDBIT *

about "The Return"

On 20 October 1944, MacArthur returned.

Gen. Douglas MacArthur, center, is accompanied by his officers and
Philippines President in Exile, far left, as he wades ashore during
landing operations at Leyte, October 20, 1944. To his left is
Lt. Gen. Richard Sutherland, his chief of staff. (AP Photo/U.S. Army)

Directly from This Day in History on the History.com website, comes this:

The son of an American Civil War hero, MacArthur served as chief U.S. military adviser to the Philippines before World War II. The day after Pearl Harbor was bombed on December 7, 1941, Japan launched its invasion of the Philippines. After struggling against great odds to save his adopted home from Japanese conquest, MacArthur was forced to abandon the Philippine island fortress of Corregidor under orders from President Franklin Roosevelt in March 1942. Left behind at Corregidor and on the Bataan Peninsula were 90,000 American and Filipino troops, who, lacking food, supplies, and support, would soon succumb to the Japanese offensive.

After leaving Corregidor, MacArthur and his family traveled by boat 560 miles to the Philippine island of Mindanao, braving mines, rough seas, and the Japanese navy. At the end of the hair-raising 35-hour journey, MacArthur told the boat commander, John D. Bulkeley, "You've taken me out of the jaws of death, and I won't forget it." On March 17, the general and his family boarded a B-17 Flying Fortress for northern Australia. He then took another aircraft and a long train ride down to Melbourne. During this journey, he was informed that there were far fewer Allied troops in Australia than he had hoped. Relief of his forces trapped in the Philippines would not be forthcoming. Deeply disappointed, he issued a statement to the press in which he promised his men and the people of the Philippines, "I shall return." The promise would become his mantra during the next two and a half years, and he would repeat it often in public appearances.

For his valiant defense of the Philippines, MacArthur was awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor and celebrated as "America's First Soldier." Put in command of Allied forces in the Southwestern Pacific, his first duty was conducting the defense of Australia. Meanwhile, in the Philippines, Bataan fell in April, and the 70,000 American and Filipino soldiers captured there were forced to undertake a death march in which at least 7,000 perished. Then, in May, Corregidor surrendered, and 15,000 more Americans and Filipinos were captured. The Philippines were lost, and the U.S. Joint Chiefs of Staff had no immediate plans for their liberation.

After the U.S. victory at the Battle of Midway in June 1942, most Allied resources in the Pacific went to U.S. Admiral Chester Nimitz, who as commander of the Pacific Fleet planned a more direct route to Japan than via the Philippines. Undaunted, MacArthur launched a major offensive in New Guinea, winning a string of victories with his limited forces. By September 1944, he was poised to launch an invasion of the Philippines, but he needed the support of Nimitz's Pacific Fleet. After a period of indecision about whether to invade the Philippines or Formosa (known as Taiwan, today), the Joint Chiefs put their support behind MacArthur's plan, which logistically could be carried out sooner than a Formosa invasion.

On October 20, 1944, a few hours after his troops landed, MacArthur waded ashore onto the Philippine island of Leyte. That day, he made a radio broadcast in which he declared, "People of the Philippines, I have returned!" In January 1945, his forces invaded the main Philippine island of Luzon. In February, Japanese forces at Bataan were cut off, and Corregidor was captured. Manila, the Philippine capital, fell in March, and in June MacArthur announced his offensive operations on Luzon to be at an end; although scattered Japanese resistance continued until the end of the war, in August. Only one-third of the men MacArthur left behind in March 1942 survived to see his return. "I'm a little late," he told them, "but we finally came."