18 April 1945

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

18 April, 1945      0915

Germany

Wilma, darling –

Another season must really be upon us. I heard by short wave this morning – the results of the ball games yesterday – and our Braves and Red Sox both lost. The world can’t be changing very much after all, if you can turn the radio on and still get the same names, the same results. I think I’ll find Boston just about the way I left it.

And how about you? Well – you’ll be older (worried?), more mature, more delicious, more mine – than when I left, but that kind of change is just what I’m looking for, so watch out, honey, here I come!

Well yesterday I acted more along the lines of Military Government than anything else. It’s interesting, but I think I’d get tired of it very soon. These people have been so militarized in the past that now that they know they’re conquered – they don’t dare make a move without asking permission. But it’s easy to see – that regardless of what we do – they expected much worse, and they can’t seem to understand that we don’t intend to take their food and livestock. They can’t believe we are a self-existing Army.

In the p.m. it became quite warm here and I felt very much like having a shower. We haven’t been able to get G-I showers since we left the Rhineland. Well – I started to ask around and finally found some in a Girl’s school – now a German army hospital – in the next town. So 5 of us walked in, told the Kommandant what we wanted, were escorted to the shower room etc. no questions asked.

I was glad to read that you had joined my folks for the Seder. I know it couldn’t have been interesting, away from home – but I know it meant a lot to the folks having you along. And by the way, how is Grammy Bernstein, anyway? You haven’t mentioned her very recently. My own Passover this year was nil. We were on the move practically all of the time. There were Corps services – but our Bn. just never got near enough at that time.

I know how you must become somewhat fed up with your work at times, dear – because you’ve mentioned it a few times now. But I think it has given you an experience well worth having, and more than that – it has managed to give you a full day. Remember when you were writing me about your job in the department store? Then you were going to work for Stuarts, or somebody. I didn’t like that – but you never did, anyway. I don’t remember how you became interested in R.C. – but I think that turned out to be as good a field as any.

Say – what’s this about Palo Alto, Alameda – and all points West? Do you know, darling, that Alameda is across the bay from San Francisco, and that people live there – despite the distance from Frisco – because there’s less fog there? As a matter of fact, though – it is nice. I’ve got friends there – a fellow I grew up with. He went out there to do engineering – and he’s never come back. He got married, has 2 or 3 kids and is quite happy. I haven’t heard from him in over a year – but he was still out of the Army then.

What’s the difference though, dear? I love you now – and I can love you anywhere in the world – and certainly anywhere in the U.S. What I want to do first of all is to get home and marry you! Understand? All right – dear – just wanted to make sure.

I’m going back to the aid station now, darling. Didn’t get any mail last night, either – but expect some today. Meanwhile, love to the folks – and remember I’m

Always yours alone

Greg

* TIDBIT *

about Ernie Pyle


Ernie Pyle in Italy, March 1944

On this day in 1945, Pulitzer Prize-winning war correspondent Ernie Pyle was killed by Japanese machine-gun fire on the island of Ie Shima off the coast of Okinawa.

Ernie Pyle was born on 3 August 1900 and grew up on a farm just outside of Dana, Indiana. As a teenager, Pyle hated farming and shortly after graduating from high school, he enlisted in the Naval Reserve. He enrolled in Indiana University in 1919 but, just before finishing his degree, the LaPorte Herald hired him as a reporter. He then joined the staff of the Washington, D.C. Daily News, part of the Scripps-Howard newspaper chain. In 1925, Pyle married Minnesota native Geraldine (Jerry) Siebolds. Jerry suffered from intermittent bouts of mental illness and alcoholism. Pyle described her as "desperate within herself since the day she was born". Quitting their jobs, the Pyles traveled 9,000 miles in ten weeks, and by 1927 they had crossed the country 35 times. After years of wandering, they unanimously selected their town of choice – Albuquerque – in which to build a home.

Originally a reporter, copy editor, and aviation editor, in 1932 he began to write a daily column on trips to various sections of the country as a roving reporter for the Scripps-Howard newspaper chain. Eventually syndicated to some 200 U.S. newspapers, Pyle's column, which related the lives and hopes of typical citizens, captured America's affection. In 1942, after the United States entered World War II, Pyle went overseas as a war correspondent, reporting from London during the Blitz. After the U.S. entered the war, Pyle covered the Allied landings in North Africa in 1942, then the conquest of Sicily in 1943, then the long, bloody campaign up the Italian peninsula.

On 7 June 1944, went ashore at Normandy the day after Allied forces landed. Pyle, who always wrote about the experiences of enlisted men rather than the battles they participated in, described the D-Day scene:

It was a lovely day for strolling along the seashore. Men were sleeping on the sand, some of them sleeping forever. Men were floating in the water, but they didn't know they were in the water, for they were dead.

Pyle then covered the aftermath of D-Day in 1944 and the Allied drive across France. He eschewed covering the war from headquarters in favor of reporting it from the front lines with the ordinary dogfaces who came to respect and love him. Today, he would be called “embedded.” He won a Pulitzer Prize for reporting in 1944. Also that year, he wrote a column urging that soldiers in combat get "fight pay" just as airmen were paid "flight pay." Congress passed a law authorizing $10 a month extra pay for combat infantrymen. The legislation was called "The Ernie Pyle bill." Pyle burned out that September and came home, explaining to his devoted readers

'I've had it,' as they say in the Army... My spirit is wobbly and my mind is confused. The hurt has finally become too great. All of a sudden it seemed to me that if I heard one more shot or saw one more dead man, I would go off my nut. And if I had to write one more column, I'd collapse. So I'm on my way.

Yet, after a few months of recuperation at his home in Albuquerque, he went off to war again, this time to the Pacific to cover what was thought would be a long, bloody offensive to invade and conquer Japan.

In 1945, while covering the battle for Okinawa, he decided to accompany the troops during the invasion of the small nearby island of Ie Shima. He was traveling in a jeep with Lieutenant Colonel Joseph B. Coolidge (commanding officer of the 305th Infantry Regiment, 77th Infantry Division) and three other men. The road, which ran parallel to the beach two or three hundred yards inland, had been cleared of mines, and hundreds of vehicles had driven over it. As the vehicle reached a road junction, an enemy machine gun located on a coral ridge about a third of a mile away began firing at them. The men stopped their vehicle and jumped into a ditch. Pyle and Coolidge raised their heads to look around for the others; when they spotted them, Pyle smiled and asked Coolidge "Are you all right?" Those were his last words. The machine gun began shooting again, and Pyle was struck in the left temple. The soldiers of the 77th Infantry Division made a wooden coffin for him and buried him wearing his helmet. After his death, President Harry S. Truman spoke of how Pyle "told the story of the American fighting man as the American fighting men wanted it told."

Pyle was later reburied at the Army cemetery on Okinawa and finally moved to the National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific, Punchbowl Crater located in Honolulu. A wooden cross on Ie Shima was replaced by a permanent stone monument. Its inscription reads: "At this spot the 77th Infantry Division lost a buddy Ernie Pyle 18 April 1945."

Ernie Pyle didn’t measure his self-worth by how much he was paid, nor by the number of opportunities for publicity. He did, however, care about his readership. By the time of his death, Ernie’s columns appeared in 400 daily and 300 weekly newspapers.

Omar Bradley, Dwight Eisenhower and Ernie Pyle
in France, 1944

From an article posted by the "Commercial Appeal, Memphis Tennessee" blog site on 4 December 2011 came this "classic of wartime writing", a story written by Ernie Pyle.

"The Death of Captain Waskow."
By Ernie Pyle

Scripps Howard Newspapers

In this war I have known a lot of officers who were loved and respected by the soldiers under them. But never have I crossed the trail of any man as beloved as Capt. Henry T. Waskow of Belton, Texas.

Capt. Waskow was a company commander in the 36th Division. He had led his company since long before it left the States. He was very young, only in his middle twenties, but he carried in him a sincerity and gentleness that made people want to be guided by him.

"After my own father, he came next," a sergeant told me.

"He always looked after us," a soldier said. "He'd go to bat for us every time."

"I've never knowed him to do anything unfair," another one said.

I was at the foot of the mule trail the night they brought Capt. Waskow's body down. The moon was nearly full at the time, and you could see far up the trail, and even part way across the valley below. Soldiers made shadows in the moonlight as they walked.

Dead men had been coming down the mountain all evening, lashed onto the backs of mules. They came lying belly-down across the wooden pack-saddles, their heads hanging down on the left side of the mule, their stiffened legs sticking out awkwardly from the other side, bobbing up and down as the mule walked.

The Italian mule-skinners were afraid to walk beside dead men, so Americans had to lead the mules down that night. Even the Americans were reluctant to unlash and lift off the bodies at the bottom, so an officer had to do it himself, and ask others to help.

The first one came early in the morning. They slid him down from the mule and stood him on his feet for a moment, while they got a new grip. In the half light he might have been merely a sick man standing there, leaning on the others. Then they laid him on the ground in the shadow of the low stone wall alongside the road.

I don't know who that first one was. You feel small in the presence of dead men, and ashamed at being alive, and you don't ask silly questions.

We left him there beside the road, that first one, and we all went back into the cowshed and sat on water cans or lay on the straw, waiting for the next batch of mules.

Somebody said the dead soldier had been dead for four days, and then nobody said anything more about it. We talked soldier talk for an hour or more. The dead man lay all alone outside in the shadow of the low stone wall.

Then a soldier came into the cowshed and said there were some more bodies outside. We went out into the road. Four mules stood there, in the moonlight, in the road where the trail came down off the mountain. The soldiers who led them stood there waiting. "This one is Captain Waskow," one of them said quietly.

Two men unlashed his body from the mule and lifted it off and laid it in the shadow beside the low stone wall. Other men took the other bodies off. Finally there were five lying end to end in a long row, alongside the road. You don't cover up dead men in the combat zone. They just lie there in the shadows until somebody else comes after them.

The unburdened mules moved off to their olive orchard. The men in the road seemed reluctant to leave. They stood around, and gradually one by one I could sense them moving close to Capt. Waskow's body. Not so much to look, I think, as to say something in finality to him, and to themselves. I stood close by and I could hear.

One soldier came and looked down, and he said out loud, "God damn it." That's all he said, and then he walked away. Another one came. He said, "God damn it to hell anyway." He looked down for a few last moments, and then he turned and left.

Another man came; I think he was an officer. It was hard to tell officers from men in the half light, for all were bearded and grimy dirty. The man looked down into the dead captain's face, and then he spoke directly to him, as though he were alive. He said: "I'm sorry, old man."

Then a soldier came and stood beside the officer, and bent over, and he too spoke to his dead captain, not in a whisper but awfully tenderly, and he said:

"I sure am sorry, sir."

Then the first man squatted down, and he reached down and took the dead hand, and he sat there for a full five minutes, holding the dead hand in his own and looking intently into the dead face, and he never uttered a sound all the time he sat there.

And finally he put the hand down, and then reached up and gently straightened the points of the captain's shirt collar, and then he sort of rearranged the tattered edges of his uniform around the wound. And then he got up and walked away down the road in the moonlight, all alone.

After that the rest of us went back into the cowshed, leaving the five dead men lying in a line, end to end, in the shadow of the low stone wall. We lay down on the straw in the cowshed, and pretty soon we were all asleep.

17 April 1945

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

17 April, 1945      0905

Germany

Dearest sweetheart –

Well this town is part of the outskirts of a city of about 50,000. Our C.P. aid station etc are in a grammar school whose walls are plastered with mottos, sayings – all with Adolph Hitler’s name on the bottom. This is in fact the real core of Nazi Germany and they make no bones about it here – as they did in the Rhineland – where they all said they didn’t want Hitler. However – we just move in – and they have little choice in the matter. Officer quarters are in a small house, this time – but it’s comfortable and has electricity and running water.

Helfta - Germany - Typical Billboard - April 1945


Helfta - Same billboard  - in process of having swastikas
effaced. Done by Germans on our orders. People are
reading Military Government notices - April 1945

And last night, although there was no mail – per se – there were packages and what do you think – there was a package for me – from you. You had told me about it, dear, but it had completely slipped my mind – and I was truly surprised. Now those 3 face cloths really developed in the course of traveling – for I found anchovies, cookies, salmon, tuna fish etc. I don’t know how you found out, sweetheart, but you hit it right on the head. That’s the sort of food we don’t get in the Army and which every now and then we miss. Thanks, darling, for the trouble.

We didn’t get settled until late evening and then we listened to the radio awhile and went to bed. When we have electricity, radios are no problem – for by now – there’s pretty nearly one radio for every man in Headquarters – little ones, large ones, cabinet style – all sorts – and don’t ask me where we got them.

1015

Hello again, dear. I was called away, It seems there are about 300 Russian slave laborers in town and they’re running wild with pistols, shooting up and beating up some Germans, and “stealing” their bread. I was called to speak to the committee of Germans. I told them – we would take the pistols away from the Russians. Other than that we would do nothing. They brought the Russians here and it was their problem. Of course they can’t do a damn thing about it – but as far as I’m concerned – let the Russians get some means of revenge.

Helfta, Germany - Jeep full of Russians rounded up to
stop looting and plundering. We didn't do anything to them.
April 1945

The whole thing is very interesting – and in each town – we run into something else. There are few rules set down and no books written on the subject. More often – we’re making our own rules – and it will be interesting some day to look back at it all and see what we’ve accomplished, good or bad.

Helfta - Near Eisleben - Liberated Poles and Russians
still going out to work in the field
April 1945

I laughed in reference to your question about pretty China. Why, darling, that would be looting! (And don’t laugh!) Seriously – you could send a piece home – here or there, but anything more than that would not go. Secondly, I haven’t seen any really good china around. Most of it must be hidden away.

Your desires about traveling in the future – really interested me. Of course – it will probably be some time before I’ll be in a position to travel, anyway. Europe – after this war – will not be worth seeing, although there’s something about London and Paris that even New York can’t touch. It’s difficult to describe. I guess all you can say is that it’s European. Your list of choices isn’t bad – but Army men who have been there tell you to stay out of Panama and Nicaragua, because there’s nothing to see and the climate is terrible. I do like the sound of Nassau, Mexico, California and even Honolulu – although that’s getting pretty far away for a doctor. I guess we’ll have time enough to talk it over, dear – and it will be fun.

Say, sweetheart, you really surprised me when you wrote of $800 saved. That’s damned good for the comparatively short time – but it’s not fair to tell me it’s for a purpose and let it go at that. You didn’t even let it go at that – you taunted me! How about at least a teensy-weensy hint? And then you matter-of-factly say you hope I get home soon because there are so many things you want to discuss with me. Well – since you put it that way, dear, I’ll go right over to the Colonel and ask him if I can go home – O.K.? And I’m not hard to feed. How could I be after a few years of Army food? My mother was correct about milk, apples and onions – but how in the world did she know about the kisses? Gosh – mothers are smart! And Kosher house? No; cleanliness is Kosher enough for me, dear. Hell – this discussion has made me feel domestic – I feel like going right into the pantry and doing the dishes. In that case – this would be a good place to stop. I can hardly wait for the day when I can actually see you and tell you I love you, darling. And the day when we become married – well – that’s a Utopia beyond description. Life will be a wonderful thing when this war’s over. Perhaps soon, darling.

Have to go now, dear. Send my love to the folks – and how is Mother B doing?

All my sincerest love, sweetheart –

Greg

P.S. And this makes 30 – and that’s all for this group.

L.G.

* TIDBIT *

about Truman to the Troops
and Churchill in Commons

PRESIDENT TRUMAN'S BROADCAST TO THE ARMED FORCES
OF THE UNITED STATES UPON HIS ASSUMPTION OF OFFICE

17 April 1945

TO THE ARMED FORCES OF THE UNITED STATES THROUGHOUT THE WORLD:

After the tragic news of the death of our late Commander in Chief it was my duty to speak promptly to the Congress and the armed forces of the United States. Yesterday, I addressed the Congress. Now I speak to you. I am especially anxious to talk to you, for I know that all of you felt a tremendous shock, as we did at home, when our Commander in Chief fell.

All of us have lost a great leader, a far-sighted statesman and a real friend of democracy. We have lost a hard-hitting chief and an old friend of the services. Our hearts are heavy. However, the cause which claimed Roosevelt, also claims us. He never faltered - nor will we!

I have done, as you do in the field, when the Commander in Chief falls. My duties and responsibilities are clear. I have assumed them. These duties will be carried on in keeping with our American tradition. As a veteran of the first World War, I have seen death on the battlefield. When I fought in France with the Thirty-fifth Division, I saw good officers and men fall, and be replaced. I know that this is also true of the officers and men of the other services, the Navy, the Marine Corps, the Coast Guard and the Merchant Marine. I know the strain, the mud, the misery, the utter weariness of the soldier in the field. And I know too his courage, his stamina, his faith in his comrades, his country and himself.

We are depending upon each and every one of you. Yesterday I said to the Congress and I repeat it now:

Our debt to the heroic men and valiant women in the service of our country can never be repaid. They have earned our undying gratitude. America will never forget their sacrifices. Because of these sacrifices, the dawn of justice and freedom throughout the world slowly casts its gleam across the horizon.

At this decisive hour in history it is very difficult to express my feeling. Words will not convey what is in my heart. Yet, I recall the words of Lincoln, a man who had enough eloquence to speak for all America. To indicate my sentiments, and to describe my hope for the future, may I quote the immortal words of that great Commander in Chief:

With malice toward none; with charity for all; with firmness in the right, as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in; to bind up our nation's wounds; to care for him who shall have borne the battle, and for his widow, and his orphan-to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves, and with all nations.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

PRIME MINISTER CHURCHILL'S EULOGY IN COMMONS
FOR THE LATE PRESIDENT ROOSEVELT

17 April 1945
Parliamentary Debates

I beg to move:

That an humble Address be presented to His Majesty to convey to His Majesty the deep sorrow with which this House has learned of the death of the President of the United States of America and to pray His Majesty that in communicating his own sentiments of grief to the United States Government, he will also be graciously pleased to express on the part of this House their sense of the loss which the British Commonwealth and Empire and the cause of the Allied Nations have sustained, and their profound sympathy with Mrs. Roosevelt and the late President's family and with the Government and people of the United States of America.

My friendship with the great man to whose work and fame we pay our tribute to-day began and ripened during this war. I had met him, but only for a few minutes, after the close of the last war and as soon as I went to the Admiralty in September, 1939, he telegraphed, inviting me to correspond with him direct on naval or other matters if at any time I felt inclined. Having obtained the permission of the Prime Minister, I did so. Knowing President Roosevelt's keen interest in sea warfare, I furnished him with a stream of information about our naval affairs and about the various actions, including especially the action of the Plate River, which lighted the first gloomy winter of the war.

When I became Prime Minister, and the war broke out in all its hideous fury, when our own life and survival hung in the balance, I was already in a position to telegraph to the President on terms of an association which had become most intimate and, to me, most agreeable. This continued through all the ups and downs of the world struggle until Thursday last, when I received my last messages from him. These messages showed no falling off in his accustomed clear vision and vigour upon perplexing and complicated matters. I may mention that this correspondence which, of course, was greatly increased after the United States entry into the war, comprises, to and fro between us, over 1,700 messages. Many of these were lengthy messages and the majority dealt with those more difficult points which come to be discussed upon the level of heads of Governments only after official solutions had not been reached at other stages. To this correspondence there must be added our nine meetings at Argentia, three in Washington, at Casablanca, at Teheran, two at Quebec and, last of all, at Yalta, comprising in all about 120 days of close personal contact, during a great part of which I stayed with him at the White House or at his home at Hyde Park or in his retreat in the Blue Mountains, which he called Shangri-La.

I conceived an admiration for him as a statesman, a man of affairs, and a war leader. I felt the utmost confidence in his upright, inspiring character and outlook and a personal regard - affection I must say - for him beyond my power to express today. His love of his own country, his respect for its constitution, his power of gauging the tides and currents of its mobile public opinion, were always evident, but, added to these, were the beatings of that generous heart which was always stirred to anger and to action by spectacles of aggression and oppression by the strong against the weak. It is, indeed, a loss, a bitter loss to humanity that those heart-beats are stilled for ever. President Roosevelt's physical affliction lay heavily upon him. It was a marvel that he bore up against it through all the many years of tumult-and storm. Not one man in ten millions, stricken and crippled as he was, would have attempted to plunge into a life of physical and mental exertion and of hard, ceaseless political controversy. Not one in ten millions would have tried, not one in a generation would have succeeded, not only in entering this sphere, not only in acting vehemently in it, but in becoming indisputable master of the scene. In this extraordinary effort of the spirit over the flesh, the will-power over physical infirmity, he was inspired and sustained by that noble woman his devoted wife, whose high ideals marched with his own, and to whom the deep and respectful sympathy of the House of Commons flows out today in all fullness. There is no doubt that the President foresaw the great dangers closing in upon the pre-war world with far more prescience than most well-informed people on either side of the Atlantic, and that he urged forward with all his power such precautionary military preparations as peace-time opinion in the United States could be brought to accept. There never was a moment's doubt, as the quarrel opened, upon which side his sympathies lay.

The fall of France, and what seemed to most people outside this Island, the impending destruction of Great Britain, were to him an agony, although he never lost faith in us. They were an agony to him not only on account of Europe, but because of the serious perils to which the United States herself would have been exposed had we been overwhelmed or the survivors cast down under the German yoke. The bearing of the British nation at that time of stress, when we were all alone, filled him and vast numbers of his countrymen with the warmest sentiments towards our people. He and they felt the blitz of the stern winter of 1940~1, when Hitler set himself to rub out the cities of our country, as much as any of us did, and perhaps more indeed, for imagination is often more torturing than reality. There is no doubt that the bearing of the British and, above all, of the Londoners kindled fires in American bosoms far harder to quench than the conflagrations from which we were suffering. There was also at that time, in spite of General Wavell's victories - all the more, indeed, because of the reinforcements which were sent from this country to him - the apprehension widespread in the United States that we should be invaded by Germany after the fullest preparation in the spring of 1941. It was in February that the President sent to England the late Mr. Wendell Willkie, who, although a political rival and an opposing candidate, felt as he did on many important points. Mr. Willkie brought a letter from Mr. Roosevelt, which the President had written in his own hand, and this letter contained the famous lines of Longfellow:

. . . Sail on, O ship of State!
Sail on O Union, strong and great!
Humanity with all its fears,
With all the hopes of future years,
Is hanging breathless on thy fate!"

At about that same time he devised the extraordinary measure of assistance called Lend-Lease, which will stand forth as the most unselfish and unsordid financial act of any country in all history. The effect of this was greatly to increase British fighting power and for all the purposes of the war effort to make us, as it were, a much more numerous community. In that autumn I met the President for the first time during the war at Argentia in Newfoundland and together we drew up the Declaration which has since been called the Atlantic Charter and which will, I trust, long remain a guide for both our peoples and for other peoples of the world.

All this time, in deep and dark and deadly secrecy, the Japanese were preparing their act of treachery and greed. When next we met in Washington Japan, Germany and Italy had declared war upon the United States and both our countries were in arms, shoulder to shoulder. Since then we have advanced over the land and over the sea through many difficulties and disappointments, but always with a broadening measure of success. I need not dwell upon the series of great operations which have taken place in the Western Hemisphere, to say nothing of that other immense war proceeding at the other side of the world. Nor need I speak of the plans which we made with our great Ally, Russia, at Teheran, for these have now been carried out for all the world to see.

But at Yalta I noticed that the President was ailing. His captivating smile, his gay and charming manner, had not deserted him but his face had a transparency, an air of purification, and often there was a faraway look in his eyes. When I took my leave of him in Alexandria harbour I must confess that I had an indefinable sense of fear that his health and his strength were on the ebb. But nothing altered his inflexible sense of duty. To the end he faced his innumerable tasks unflinching. One of the tasks of the President is to sign maybe a hundred or two hundred State papers with his own hand every day, commissions and so forth. All this he continued to carry out with the utmost strictness. When death came suddenly upon him "he had finished his mail." That portion of his day's work was done. As the saying goes, he died in harness and we may well say in battle harness, like his soldiers, sailors and airmen, who side by side with ours, are carrying on their task to the end all over the world. What an enviable death was his. He had brought his country through the worst of its perils and the heaviest of its toils. Victory had cast its sure and steady beam upon him. He had broadened and stabilized in the days of peace the foundations of American life and union.

In war he had raised the strength, might and glory of the great Republic to a height never attained by any nation in history. With her left hand she was leading the advance of the conquering Allied Armies into the heart of Germany and with her right, on the other side of the globe, she was irresistibly and swiftly breaking up the power of Japan. And all the time ships, munitions, supplies, and food of every kind were aiding on a gigantic scale her Allies, great and small, in the course of the long struggle.

But all this was no more than worldly power and grandeur, had it not been that the causes of human freedom and of social justice to which so much of his life had been given, added a luster to all this power and pomp and warlike might, a luster which will long be discernible among men. He has left behind him a band of resolute and able men handling the numerous interrelated parts of the vast American war machine. He has left a successor who comes forward with firm step and sure conviction to carry on the task to its appointed end. For us it remains only to say that in Franklin Roosevelt there died the greatest American friend we have ever known and the greatest champion of freedom who has ever brought help and comfort from the new world to the old.

Question put, and agreed to, nemine contradicente.

Resolved:

That an humble Address be presented to His Majesty to convey to His Majesty the deep sorrow with which this House has learned of the death of the President of the United States of America and to pray His Majesty that in communicating his own sentiments of grief to the United States Government, he will also be graciously pleased to express on the part of this House their sense of the loss which the British Commonwealth and Empire and the cause of the Allied Nations have sustained, and their profound sympathy with Mrs. Roosevelt and the late President's family and with the Government and people of the United States of America.

To be presented by Privy Councillors or Members of His Majesty's Household.

16 April 1945

V-MAIL

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

16 April, 1945      0925

Germany

Hello Sweetheart –

Here I am again – or should I say – here I go again. You’re probably wondering how I can go so often and I can tell you, dear, that we can’t go much faster without hitting Target – Berlin. We’re really close now – and boy how these Germans hate us. They just never dreamed we’d ever get this far – and the way our trucks roll by in the thousands – makes their eyes pop. And our Army has toughened up, too, since we’ve seen with our own eyes – the atrocities these people were capable of.

Got two swell letters from you, darling, of 31 March and 2 April. Really loved both of them. Also – one from Verna. Honestly – sweetheart – have to stop now. I’m tired and dirty and want to wash up. I love you, sweetheart – and soon maybe I’ll be able to show you how much.

All my deepest love

Greg

Route of the Question Mark


[CLICK TO ENLARGE]

(A) Nordhausen to (B) Helfta, Germany (40 miles)
12 April to 16 April 1945

April 16... Helfta. The large school-house where we lived. The enclosure with 53,000 German prisoners at the other end of town. The baseball games on the fine diamond. The memorial service for the President. Lieutenant Colonel [John J.] LANE was transferred to Group Hq here and Lieutenant Colonel [William A.] McWILLIAMS took over as new CO.

German PWs - Show down inspection
for removal of weapons, knives, etc.
After this - Admitted to cage
Helfta - April 1945


German PWs. This enclosure had 30,000 in it.
Officers in the foreground
Helfta - April 1945

* TIDBIT *

about the Helfta POW Enclosure

The following excerpt comes from Lieutenant Colonel, USA (Retired) John B. Wong's book, "Battle Bridges, Combat River Crossings, WWII", published by Wong "on demand in cooperation with Trafford Publishing" and printed in Victoria, Canada in 2004. Wong served as commanding officer of Company C, 238th Engineer Combat Battalion during WWII and was in Helfta just after Greg was there.

The German POW count in the compound at Helfta varied from 40,000 to 60,000 persons, depending on the day of the headcount. A constant influx and outflow of POWs existed. They came and they went. They stood, forty to a truckload. Daily truck traffic included several dozen vehicles loaded with captured German rations. These rations consisted of a canned concoction that might have been a mixture of oat cereal, very little meat, and other ersatz materials. Included was a dark biscuit-like "iron" bread. Drinking water was brought from U.S. Army engineer sources.

The most prized possession of each individual POW was a container of some kind. A can, a pot, a pan, or a mess kit were items that were fought over vigorously. It was the cause of most disciplinary actions meted out by the POW officers, one of them a Major General of the Luftwaffe. The General was sent to the rear immediately after he was identified.

Fifteen were female POW personnel. Fourteen of them were uniformed nurses; one a Woman Auxiliary. I placed them in four pyramidal tents outside the POW compound near the Company CP. These women were placed on parole and accorded limited privileges. GI guards were posted around this tented area.

The POW compound was about one thousand yards in length and about five hundred yards in width. The rear of the enclosure was an enormous coal mining waste slate heap. Its vertical slope was as high as a twenty story building. These waste slag heaps were so large that they were shown on out 1/10,000 scale maps as prominent physical features equal to mountain terrain features. The two sides and front consisted of a fence constructed of three or more rolls of concertina barbed wire and some salvaged chain link fencing.  .30 caliber machine gun posts were placed at each corner covering the fence.  .50 caliber machine guns placed farther out across the roadway backed the .30s. Only one access was provided for the entire compound.

No US personnel were allowed inside the POW enclosure. This was an inflexible rule strictly adhered to by the guards. POW discipline was enforce by the POW officers.

The nearest row of civilian dwelling was across a narrow road fronting the eastern side of the camp. Our troops were quartered in these houses. The small village of Helfta sprawled to the southeast of the installation. A mental picture of a football stadium filled with people will serve to give an idea of the numbers of POW. These numbers could populated a fair sized town. The space was ample for the POWs. Feeding this population was not difficult with the use of captured food stocks. No shelter was provided. It was fortunate tht the weather was mild but drizzly.

Sanitation, especially the disposal of human wastes, was the most critical problem to be solved. Slit trenching was the only solution. The slit trenches that the POWs dug were probably the longest in the world. The first trench was excavated parallel to the west perimeter fence some eighteen inches wide and three feet deep the entire width of the compound. A new trench was excavated each day parallel to the one currently in use. The earth from the new trench was thrown into the old one as cover. The ditches were excavated with typical German pride and precision. This trenching was the POWs only physical activity. As the days passed a portion of the compound resembled a newly plowed pasture. During the life of the camp, miles and miles of slit trenches were excavated and covered over with soil. In spite of the extraordinary length of the trenches, the POWs had to wait impatiently for their turn on rare occasions. Fortunately no outbreak of disease of any kind occurred.

Nighttime required an increased vigilance from our GI guards. As dusk approached, following their evening meals, the POWs became restless. It was if the psyches of the individual POWs convalesced into one single entity. As with one voice, the POWs sang Wagnerian and other haunting Germanic songs. This music had a definite effect on the GIs on guard duty. Hearing this sad singing would cause our hackles to rise. The hair on our heads bristled, standing on end. It was chilling to hear these thousands of sad voices reverberating off the pitch black slag heap. As darkness fell the singing men would congregate in groups to continue with their separate tunes.

Following the singing, a handful of POWs, overcome with feeling, would attempt to escape by climbing the barbed wire. In most cases they headed in the direction of the POW nurses' tents. Our men had no choice but to open up on the would be escaping prisoners with the .30 caliber machine guns. Only a couple hundred, out of the thousands of men, attempting a pointless breakout would overrun our small guard force. During the first week an attempt to escape would be made each night by two or more POWs. The first night five tried to escape. Four were killed and one was wounded. The dead prisoners were left draped over the barbed wire concertinas, where they had been shot, as an object lesson to those remaining inside. Only later during the day were the bodies removed by Graves Registration for burial. I had conversations with the ranking German Colonel reminding him that the was would soon be over; that it was pointless to attempt to escape as the Russians were so very near. Where could they run?

15 April, 1945

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

15 April, 1945 0925

Germany

Wilma, darling –

It’s another Sunday morning away from you – and I really feel cheated on Sundays because that’s when I could spend most of my time with you. But we’ll catch up by concentration – right?

Now half of this month is gone and the war still goes on. I still maintain it will fold on or about 15 June. Rumors – in the last 24 hours – have been a dime-a-dozen and they include stories about what outfits will be broken up into Military Government units, which will go to the Pacific and by what route, etc. The very hottest one was that this Corps was seeking billets in Paris, preparatory to what – no one knew. Whatever happens to this outfit if it is broken up, I still remain a medical officer and the Army will have to give me some sort of job. By all rights – I’m about ready for transfer to a hospital. I’ve had the necessary time with a front line outfit to warrant it; the only reason holding it back is my age. They’re transferring the doctors who are older than I – which is as it should be. But – from what I gather – the transfers are to General hospitals in Com.Z – where the staffs are pretty well established and where an M.C. returning from a line outfit is told that he’s been out of touch with things and he’d better stay up on the medical or convalescent ward and get oriented. He probably gets nothing else but oriented. Anyway, I’ll still sit tight and see what happens. To date I’ve filled out at least a dozen questionnaires and to date – they all end right there.

I told you about the massacred slave labor people here – yesterday, dear. There’s been one slight note of justice meted out so far. Our Commanding General had 300 of the leading citizens in town brought in – store owners, manufacturers etc. They were organized in teams of 4 and made to improvise stretchers. They were then given the task of lugging the corpses away, one by one, over quite a distance thru the center of town where everyone could see – and from there – to a common burying ground which was being dug by another crew of Germans. No German was allowed to wear gloves when picking the bodies up. M.P.’s were all over the place, supervising; and believe me – those Germans didn’t like that task one bit. I stood around watching for some time, as did hundreds of other troops who kept coming and going. I think the Germans in this city, at least, are being made to feel our contempt for them and their type of civilization better then if we lined them up and shot them. They walk with bowed, ashamed, accused faces – and I failed to see any trace of the Master Race on any of them.

In the evening, dear, we had a party. Why? I’ll tell you. Usually – or always rather – we eat with the men – or rather at a table set aside a bit. This set-up has us living in a nice house – all by ourselves. So we decided we’d have a fish-fry and use the dining room. Everyone caught the spirit, but damn it – we only caught 4 fish – and there were 10 of us. And trout is not a large fish. We managed to get hold of some eggs, though – and we had some sardines, tuna fish etc and made hors d’oeuvres. The table was set with the house’s best linen, silver and glassware. We found all sorts of whiskeys, liqueurs etc – and we sat around and had a good time for ourselves. Later we played Bridge. What an odd war! It has done a lot of things to all of us and one thing in particular it has done for me. I think I have a better appreciation of some of the simple things in life, simple – but nice; plain and homey things. But a person must have an understanding of such little things before he can be fully aware of and appreciative of the bigger things.

Together with you, sweetheart, I believe we’re going to have a fine and rich life. Our love for each other has not only endured, but deepened and that love is the basic start. Beyond that – we both have good ideas – and by gosh – we’ll carry them out.

Have to stop now, dear. My love to the folks – and

All my everlasting love

Greg.

P.S. Enclosed makes 24.

Love,

G

* TIDBIT *

about Eva Braun

Eva Anna Paula Braun was born in Munich, Bavaria, Germany to school teacher Friedrich Braun and Franziska Kronberger. She was born the middle of three sisters into a Catholic family on 6 February 1912 - three lively, pretty girls. She was educated at a lyceum, then for one year at a business school in a convent where she had average grades and a talent for athletics. After completing her studies, she worked as a receptionist at a medical office. At age 17 she took a job working for Heinrich Hoffmann, the official photographer for the Nazi Party. Initially employed as a shop assistant and sales clerk, she soon learned how to use a camera and develop photos. She met Hitler, 23 years her senior, at Hoffmann's studio in Munich in October 1929.

They began seeing each other romantically around 1931. Although the two took a liking to each other, Hitler courted other women at the same time, some of whom were driven to suicide. Braun, too, resorted to such measures twice, with the first attempt on 1 Nov 1932 and the second on 28 May 1935. After the second suicide attempt, Hitler seemed to have become more committed to her, providing her with a mansion in Munich, a Mercedes sedan, a chauffeur, and a maid. On 30 Jan 1933, when Hitler became the Chancellor of Germany, she sat in the VIP section as his secretary.

By 1936, she was living with Hitler at Berghof near Berchtesgaden in southern Germany, and two years later, in 1938, Hitler named her his primary heir. Nevertheless, Hitler and Braun never appeared in public as a couple, and the German people would not learn of their relationship until after the war. Although close to Hitler, she was not allowed to be near any conversations between Hitler and government and military officials.

Photographs of Berghof
[CLICK TO ENLARGE]
 
 

According to Hitler's chauffeur Erich Kempka, Eva Braun was "the unhappiest woman in Germany. She spent most of her time waiting for Hitler." He had always kept her out of sight - as soon as guests arrived, he almost invariably banished her to her room - although she did often act in the capacity of a hostess at dinner parties with Hitler's inner circle. Joachim Fest tells in his biography of Hitler how Eva Braun continued to be kept in semi concealment during the years, stealing in by side entrances and using rear staircases, contenting herself with a photograph of Hitler when he left her alone at mealtimes. But gradually she accepted her frustrating role - content to be sole woman companion of the great man. Her relationship with him was strained by his lack of time and energy for her, particularly after 1943, and over time had picked up drinking and smoking as an outlet, which displeased Hitler.

In mid-1944, Braun began appearing in public with Hitler, but those engagements were limited especially as Hitler became more reclusive after the failed July Plot assassination attempt. On 15 April 1945, as Soviet troops neared Berlin, Germany, Braun traveled to Berlin to be with Hitler. Underground at the Führerbunker below the Reich Chancellery, she refused repeated attempts by various people to take her to a safer location.

Layout of Führerbunker

In the morning of 29 April, at the age of 33, wearing a dark silk dress, Braun married Hitler in a small civil ceremony in the bunker with Joseph Goebbels and Martin Bormann acting as witnesses. At about 1300 hours on 30 Apr, together with her new husband, she bid farewell to the others at the bunker. At about 1530 hours, she committed suicide by ingesting cyanide while Hitler also killed himself. Their bodies were burned in the garden of the Reich Chancellery. Their charred remains were found by the Soviets, who secretly buried them in Magdeburg, East Germany. In Apr 1970, the remains were exhumed, cremated, and dispersed into the Elbe River.

Here is a video called "Eva Braun... a life".

14 April 1945

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

14 April, 1945       0935

Germany

My dearest sweetheart –

Last nite I received a couple of letters from you – the more recent being of the 30th March. They were both swell and made me feel mellow and content and I would love to have been near you. I was – in spirit – though – and it’s strange how time teaches you to appreciate something other than the material thing. I think it’s a good lesson to learn, too.

I also got mail from Dad A, and one from Stan Levine. He told me about the “big heads” everyone in Washington had the morning after the false rumor. He also mentioned that his mother was coming down for a few days.

And over here, sweetheart, the war goes on. Every now and then something turns up to remind us of that. Of course – the whole thing is so pointless and aggravating. Were we fighting a normal enemy – it would all have been over with when we crossed the Rhine. And it won’t end when we reach Berlin, either. We’ll have to wheel around, some North, some South – until we occupy every square inch of this cursed land. But that shouldn’t take long.

When we travel as swiftly as we do – we naturally by-pass many spots with fighting Germans left behind. Occasionally they’ll sneak in and shell a town – which is amazing, to say the least. One other thing disturbed all of us here in this town. We’ve read about it and so have you. The slave labor camp and crematory set-up. This town has one and we’ve seen it. Whenever in the past I’ve seen pictures of it – I’ve always found it difficult to believe. Words can’t describe what it’s actually like and our Colonel has had every one in Battalion go up to see it – just so we’ll remember what the Germans are. There were 3500 of them – mostly starved to death; the others riddled by machine-gun bullets; children, women, men. One of the men told us that they cremated 9000 of them in the past year – and he said that only some of them were dead before being cremated. Those we saw were laid out in long rows – a mass of skin and bones. The crematory had the gas chamber, the butcher table and all. Such depravity and bestiality just isn’t comprehensible unless you see it – and if anyone has a plan to exterminate all Germans – I’m for it.

[Some of Greg's experience of Nordhausen was captured in
5 photographs which can be found by clicking the box above,
labeled "NORDHAUSEN."]

Well – to get on to a more pleasant subjects – I enjoyed the cartoon of Dahl that you enclosed in your latest letter. I always liked his style; he has such a nice way of putting his point cross. And you asked me about a cable on my Birthday, darling. No. I never received it and had even forgotten that you had told me about it. I suppose it got lost – but when I get it, dear, I’ll get the same kick out of it, because after all, it’s from you.

Your account of the peace story was interesting and I wonder just who started it. There just won’t be a peace, dear. There’ll just be a statement from Eisenhower that the campaign in Europe is over. We haven’t had any rumors here and it’s just as well.

Say – you once asked me about a Scheft family in Salem. Seems to me there were two Scheft girls I knew slightly when I was in Beverly – but I can’t remember much about them when I was in Salem. The family I knew were very ordinary – as I remember it. I wonder if it’s the same; be interested to hear.

Well, Sweetheart, I must be off. I’ve been interrupted twice and it is now 1140. They’ve locked up the owner of this place because he had slave labor and he’s to be investigated. I’ve got to tell his wife he won’t be back for awhile.

So long for now, dear, and love to the folks. Remember I love you strong, hard and ever.

All my deepest love,

Greg

P.S. Enclosed make 18. By the way – am not sending negatives. Will you ask the folks if they want them – I don’t think they do because there’s none of me.

Love, G

* TIDBIT *

about Mittelbau-Dora and Nordhausen

Mittelbau-Dora (also Dora-Mittelbau and Nordhausen-Dora) was a Nazi Germany labor camp that provided workers for the Mittelwerk V-2 rocket factory, situated near Nordhausen, Germany. Approximately 60,000 prisoners from 21 nations (mostly Russians, Poles, and French) passed through Dora. An estimated 20,000 inmates died; 9000 died from exhaustion and collapse, 350 hanged (including 200 for sabotage), the remainder died mainly from disease and starvation. There were eventually 40 sub-camps of Konzentrationslager Mittelbau (Concentration Camp Central Construction).

Following Hitler's 22 August 1943 order for Heinrich Himmler to use concentration camp workers for A-4 production, 107 inmates arrived at Nordhausen from Buchenwald on 28 August 1943, followed by 1,223 on 2 September. Peenemünde workers departed for Dora on 13 October 1943. Originally called "Block 17/3 Buchenwald," the SS administration ordered Dora to be politically separated from Buchenwald at the end of September 1944 and to become the center of Konzentrationslager Mittelbau. In effect, the camp became operational on 1 November 1944 with 32,471 prisoners.

Tunnels in the Kohnstein mountain were used as quarters until workers completed the Dora camp on 31 December 1943, less than a kilometer from the tunnel B entrance to the South. The camp had 58 barracks buildings and the underground detainee accommodations ("sleeping tunnels") were dismantled in May 1944.

Official visits included a 10 December 1943 visit to Dora by Albert Speer, and Wernher von Braun visited the Nordhausen plant on 25 January 1944. Von Braun returned for a 6 May 1944, meeting with Walter Dornberger and Arthur Rudolph where Albin Sawatzki discussed the need to enslave 1,800 more skilled French workers.

Although most of the prisoners were men, a few women were held in the Dora Mittelbau camp and in the Groß Werther sub-camp. Only one woman guard is now known to have served in Dora. Regardless of sex, all prisoners were treated with extreme cruelty, which caused illness, injuries and deaths. Examples of the cruelty routinely inflicted on prisoners include: severe beatings that could permanently disable and/or disfigure the victims, deliberate and life-threatening starvation, physical and mental torture as well as summary execution under the smallest pretext.

The SS used the Boelcke Kaserne, a former barracks in Nordhausen city, as a dumping ground for hopeless prisoner cases. On the night of 2 April 1945, Royal Air Force bombers burned down much of Nordhausen city in two nighttime fire raids, killing 1,500 sick prisoners at Boelcke Kaserne. On 3 April 1945, prisoners began leaving Dora to the Harzungen sub-camp about 10 miles (16 km) around Kohnstein mountain.

Private John M. Galione of the 104th Timberwolf Army Infantry Division discovered Mittelbau Dora on 10 April 1945, and broke into the camp with the help of two other soldiers before sunrise on 11 April. Galione then radioed the Third Armored Division and various 104th Division attachments, giving them directions to the camp. The medics of the 3rd Armored Division (United States) reported that they discovered Nordhausen Camp on the way to Camp Dora (Dora and Nordhausen are two separate camps within the same complex). Lying in both camps were about 5,000 corpses. Over 1,200 patients were evacuated, with 15 dying en route to the hospital area and 300 subsequently dying of malnutrition.

From the book "Inside the Vicious Heart - Americans and the Liberation of Nazi Concentration Camps" written by Robert H. Abzug and published by Oxford University Press, New York, 1958, comes this text, picture and quotes:

The Americans evacuated the survivors to army hospitals or evicted Germans from apartments in town and used these living quarters as makeshift clinics. The dead, thousands of them, posed a greater challenge. First the bodies were taken from the barracks and laid side by side over an area of two acres. Two thousand townspeople, who had been forcibly enlisted for the burial effort, were divided into two groups. The first dug a series of trench graves 150 feet long and 5 feet wide, room enough for somewhere between fifty and a hundred bodies, on a hill overlooking the camp. The other group carried the corpses the half-mile between the camp and the burial trenches, sometimes two or four men to a body, in a seemingly endless procession.

Oh the odors, well there is no way to describe the odors... Many of the boys I am talking about now - these were tough soldiers, there were combat men who had been all the way through the invasion - were ill and vomiting, throwing up, just the sight of this... - C.W. Doughty, 49th Engineers, Combat Battalion, attached to the Third Armored Division at the time of the Nordhausen liberation

[The prisoners] were so thin they didn't have anything - didn't have any buttocks to lie on; there wasn't any flesh on their arms to rest their skulls on... one man that I saw there who had died on his knees with his arms and head in a praying position and he was still here, apparently had been for days. - William B. Lovelady, commander of the task force of the Third Armored Division, which captured Nordhausen

I must also say that my fellow G.I.'s, most of them American born, had no particular feeling for fighting the Germans. They also thought that any stories they had read in the paper, or that I had told them of first-hand experience, were either not true or at least exaggerated. And it did not sink in, what this was all about, until we got into Nordhausen. - Fred Bohn, an Austrian-born American soldier who helped liberate Nordhausen

The following video, "Liberators and Survivors: The First Moments",
was posted to YouTube by Yad Vashem.

13 April 1945

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

13 April, 1945      0915

Germany

My dearest sweetheart –

This is really Black Friday and the news of Roosevelt’s death made it so. I heard it first at 0700 while I was dressing and listening to the radio. I was shocked as is everyone else. The world has lost a great statesman, the U.S. a great leader, and the Jews – a good friend. The death of Lincoln left the U.S. in a critical state and so does the death of Roosevelt. Let’s hope that Democracy, as we know it, really works.

The news here – darling, it consistently good. I can’t believe we’re traveling as fast as we are. The paradox is that there were days when we didn’t travel at all – and we had plenty of casualties; these days – casualties hardly occur. I speak generally, of course. You asked why I wasn’t more specific about where I was, dear. I don’t know about other outfits and their censorship. In this outfit and Corps – you cannot say “near Cologne” or “near Bastogne”. You can say you were in a town – as long as you’re 25 miles away – but that is hardly “near” – in this day and age – and when we were traveling slowly – you knew what Army I was in – and where I was. You should know roughly – where I am now. Censorship or not – we’re not a helluva long way off from Berlin, and that’s what matters most – although I don’t believe the war will be over there. I fully believe we’ll have to go up and down this land until we occupy all of it. Then we’ll say it’s over – and that will be that; and then we’ll sweat out the next move, sweetheart. Damn it – how I’d love to be on a ship heading home to you – one of these days not too far away! We’ve had a long hard go of it, dear, and your spirit has been admirable. I’m sure you can stick it out.

You wondered in one of your letters what our meeting would be like. Hell – there’s no problem there. It will be just as if I’d been away and was coming back from a trip. Naturally – I’ll kiss and hug you hard – and all the family too, somebody might cry a bit, maybe even I – then we’ll get into a car, go to someone’s house – drink a toast. About 40 people will say “You must be tired” – with Mother A. being the vanguard of that particular group. I’ll insist I’m not; I’ll keep kissing you, everyone will be talking at the same time, I’ll be proud of the campaign stars on my ribbon – and finally – some part of the day – I’ll have you alone – not to kiss or hug particularly, but to look at, to hold your hands, to thank you for being so patient and faithful all this time. If I go on further, darling, it’ll end up in a book form – so you’ll have to imagine the rest. But the crux of the whole thing is that I love you deeply and all else is of little import. I’m coming back to marry you and to try to make you happy.

Our set-up here – is again excellent. A real Nazi B.T.O. (big time operator) owned this house – and his factory is close by. He manufactured something you’ve heard about – the famous V-2. His home is excellently furnished. Radios, electricity, water – etc. are in order and we’re relaxing. I need it too, because I never got a chance to rest up after that Paris trip. And I don’t think we’ll be here long – either. The scenery is beautiful too. To the left of us are some beautiful mountain ranges. I remember reading a book by Heinrich Heine on his experiences during a trip to these same mountains.

Well – sweetheart – I’ll have to start closing and get over to the Dispensary. I’ve been out of contact now for about 8 or 9 days and I want to straighten things out.

By the way – I’m enclosing some more snaps – this makes 12. I sent six in a letter of the day before yesterday. In answer to a question you once asked – why don’t I appear in more pictures – the reason is that I have my camera with me wherever I go; I may see something as we’re riding by and snap it. I’m not out walking with someone and often there’s no one to take a picture of me. Anyway, darling, these pictures are for the scrapbook (how’s it coming?) and you don’t want it cluttered up with pictures of me. I’m trying to send them chronologically – if that’s the way you’re keeping the scrapbook. I have some photos – not my own – of Paris – but they’re the right size for pasting. I took some of my own too, but they’re undeveloped as yet.

And now – so long, dear. Love to the folks – and

All my deepest love –

Greg

12 April 1945

V-MAIL

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

12 April, 1945      2130

Germany

Dearest darling Wilma –

When you collect these V-mails that I’ve been sending you recently and you feel like complaining – remember sweetheart – that is has a lot to do with the rush and the winning of the war – and you won’t mind so much.

I’ve rested up a bit more than when I wrote you last night – but it’s go, go, go again and if I don’t write you now – I’ll have no other opportunity today. I’m oriented again as to our position etc – after having been away from maps etc – for a week – and I’m amazed at where we are. To think that we’re chewing up their great unconquerable land so easily!

I’ve got a bunch of mail that I just picked up and I see that the latest is dated March 30 and from you, dear – so I’m going to tear right into that now. I’ll be anxious to read about things at home again. For now, darling, so long and be well. Remember I love you always and as strongly as I know how. Love to the folks.

All my everlasting love

Greg

Route of the Question Mark


[CLICK TO ENLARGE]

(A) Ebershutz to (B) Nordhausen, Germany (82 miles)
10 April to 12 April 1945

12 April... Nordhausen. Here we saw the concentration camp and the bodies of the slave workers. The factory inside the hill which turned out to be a V-2 plant. We lived in a kind of factory ourselves, with a stream running past it, and under it, and Mr [Hiram E.] MORLEY [, Jr.] fished all day. Here we received the news of President Roosevelt's death. We couldn't get bread so we persuaded a local bakery to make pumpernickel for us.

* TIDBIT *

about The Death of President Roosevelt


FDR with Eleanor in 1941
at his 3rd Inauguration

On 12 April 1945, at his Warm Springs, Georgia, retreat, Franklin Delano Roosevelt (FDR) sat in the living room with Lucy Mercer (with whom he had resumed an extramarital affair), two cousins and his dog Fala, while the artist Elizabeth Shoumatoff painted his portrait. It was about 1 pm when the president suddenly complained of a terrific pain in the back of his head and collapsed, unconscious. One of the women summoned a doctor, who immediately recognized the symptoms of a massive cerebral hemorrhage and gave the president a shot of adrenaline into the heart in a vain attempt to revive him. Mercer and Shoumatoff quickly left the house, expecting FDR's family to arrive as soon as word got out. Another doctor phoned First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt in Washington D.C., informing her that FDR had fainted. She told the doctor she would travel to Georgia that evening after a scheduled speaking engagement. By 3:30 in the afternoon, though, doctors in Warm Springs had pronounced the president dead.

Eleanor delivered her speech that afternoon and was listening to a piano performance when she was summoned back to the White House. In her memoirs, she recalled that ride to the White House as one of dread, as she knew in her heart that her husband had died. Once in her sitting room, aides told her of the president's death. The couple's daughter Anna arrived and the women changed into black dresses. Eleanor then phoned their four sons, who were all on active military duty.

Harry Truman was with Speaker of the House Sam Rayburn having an end-of-the-day “libation” in the Speaker’s private Capitol hideaway. It was there, a few minutes later, drink in hand, that Truman received word to call the White House. He rang up, spoke briefly, turned pale; he said “Jesus Christ and General Jackson,” put down the phone, told those present to say nothing, and left the room alone. Then he started to run.

When Truman arrived at the White House at about 5:30 pm, he was led upstairs to the private quarters, where Eleanor Roosevelt met him in the hall. A calm and quiet Eleanor said, "Harry, the president is dead." He asked if there was anything he could do for her, to which she replied, "Is there anything we can do for you? For you are the one in trouble now."

He felt, he recalled, like the moon, the stars, and all the planets had just fallen on him. He had only accepted the vice-presidency reluctantly; had never wanted anything other than to be a Senator; now, he was the 33rd President of the United States – and so out of the loop, it had come as a complete surprise to him that Roosevelt had been dying for months.

Indeed, Truman had rather large shoes to fill. FDR had presided over the Great Depression and most of World War II, leaving an indelible stamp on American politics for several decades. He also left Truman with the difficult decision of whether or not to continue to develop and, ultimately, use the atomic bomb. Shockingly, FDR had kept his vice president in the dark about the bomb's development and it was not until Roosevelt died that Truman learned of the Manhattan Project.

It was also not until FDR died that Eleanor learned of her husband's renewed affair with Lucy Mercer. Eleanor, in her own words, was trained to put personal things in the background. She swallowed the shock and anger about Mercer and threw herself into FDR's funeral preparations.

FDR had been president since 1933, and had only months earlier been elected to an unprecedented fourth term in office. From the depths of the Great Depression to the verge of total victory in World War II, FDR had been the skilled Democratic communicator. He was the “Radio President” of the-only-thing-we-have-to-fear-is-fear-itself, Fireside Chats, and the date-which-will-live-in-infamy. He was also the father of radical New Deal programs and initiatives that truly reinvented government. And of course, he was the smiling, energetic, cigarette-holder-using, co-prosecutor along with Winston Churchill of the Allied campaign against the Axis. Many teenagers had never known another president, and even many adults had no recollection of the earlier GOP times of Hoover, Coolidge, and Harding. Hardly anyone knew he’d been paralyzed below the waist by polio since 1921, or that his health was so perilous when elected to a fourth term.

The following Movietone video reported on Roosevelt's life and death

To hear a two-hour program in honor of Roosevelt, aired by NBC Radio on 14 April 1945, click on: Our Hour of National Sorrow, as found on Internet Archive.