03 August 1945

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 513 % Postmaster, N.Y.

3 August, 1945      0925

Nancy

Wilma darling –

Another day and I want to remind you, dear, that I love you dearly and tenderly and in every way I know how. And all of the time. I don’t know how I can describe to you adequately just how empty this existence is over here, how wasteful in time, how lonesome it is despite all attempts to break up the monotony. I go to a movie or play Bridge or visit a French family, but dammit, it’s all so temporary – and when I get back to my room – I feel so all alone. I want to talk with someone who means something to me, to exchange ideas with someone for mutual benefit. I want you, sweetheart, and it’s damned hard not having you, that’s all.

Oh no, darling. I’m not blue or down-in-the-mouth. That doesn’t help. I’m just introspective enough to realize what’s going on – and I wish this recent state were over with and the next phase started.

I’ve met a few rather nice families – and one in particular has been very friendly. They talk very good English and as a result I’m able to learn quite a bit of French that you don’t pick up in books – idioms etc. I’ll say something that they don’t understand and I’ll explain it. Then I found out how it’s said in French – and so on. Last night I went to a French Concert and found it most interesting. I’m enclosing the program. This concert produced some excellent (in my opinion) singing – but I found it interesting in other ways. The French are very demonstrative when they like a certain selection and in addition to applauding vigorously – they stamp their feet until the number is re-sung. Another thing – in between each selection – the leader gives a long talk – too long I thought – explaining the next number on the program. It stretches out the concert too much – but in all, I enjoyed it because the boys sang beautifully.

One hour later

Hello darling –

I went to a French class held here in conjunction with our I&E program. I thought I’d see what it’s like. It was given by a French school teacher and this was the advanced class – and quite advanced. She read a page out of Rheime’s “Le Songe D’Attalia”, had us write down what she read and then corrected our spelling etc. She assumed we knew the translation. I got most of it – but I think it’s a bit too advanced for me and the others. I’ll try one more class and see if she has another approach. Hell – when I get back I ought to be able to take over the French section of Salem without any trouble at all.

Well – darling, I’ve got to run up town and see the district Surgeon – so I’ll wind up for now. Remember always, sweetheart – that all this is is just temporary; that I miss you always and that I’m making time until the day I can come back, love you, marry you and make you mine in every sense of the word.

Love to the folks – and

All my deepest love

Greg

* TIDBIT *

about The Harrison Report


Earl G. Harrison, 1945

From the United States Holocaust Museum comes this:

The Harrison Report, which sharply criticized the Army for its treatment of Jewish survivors, was the work of Earl G. Harrison, Dean of the University of Pennsylvania Law School, former Commissioner of Immigration, and American envoy to the Inter-Governmental Committee on Refugees. At the urging of Treasury Secretary Henry J. Morgenthau and other Jewish leaders, Harrison was commissioned by President Truman to investigate charges of maltreatment of "unrepatriable" Displaced Persons (DPs) by the U.S. Army. After inspecting thirty Jewish DP camps, Harrison submitted a preliminary report on 3 August 1945, that set the basis for American policy toward Jewish DPs.

The report called for the creation of all-Jewish camps and the evacuation of Jews from Germany, but also mentioned that Jews were being kept under American armed guard, behind barbed wire, and in former concentration camps. The Harrison Report became the single most significant document of the DP era and had repercussions that reverberated throughout the American government and Army for months after its publication. It prompted the War Department to issue an order to General Eisenhower to investigate and improve the situation. With its public embarrassment of the Army and widespread attention in the American media (it was released to newspapers on September 30, 1945), the Harrison Report caused a groundswell in the government.

Here is an excerpt:

As matters now stand, we appear to be treating the Jews as the Nazis treated them except that we do not exterminate them. They are in concentration camps in large numbers under our military guard instead of S.S. troops. One is led to wonder whether the German people, seeing this, are not supposing that we are following or at least condoning Nazi policy.

And another:

But speaking more broadly, there is an opportunity here to give some real meaning to the policy agreed upon at Potsdam. If it be true, as seems to be widely conceded, that the German people at large do not have any sense of guilt with respect to the war and its causes and results, and if the policy is to be "To convince the German people that they have suffered a total military defeat and that they cannot escape responsibility for what they have brought upon themselves," then it is difficult to understand why so many displaced persons, particularly those who have so long been persecuted and whose repatriation or resettlement is likely to be delayed, should be compelled to live in crude, over-crowded camps while the German people, in rural areas, continue undisturbed in their homes.

Policy changes were swiftly accomplished during the remaining months of 1945, when conditions in the camps improved with the opening of all-Jewish camps, the closing of concentration camps, and transfer of the care of DPs to the United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration (UNRRA). However, several of Harrison's other suggestions, most notably that Palestine and the United States admit considerable numbers of Jewish DPs, were not implemented until several years after the report was released.

CLICK HERE to read the final version of the Harrison Report.

02 August 1945

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 513 % Postmaster, N.Y.

2 August 1945

Nancy

My dearest darling Wilma –

What joy yesterday when I received 3 letters from you – 22, 24 and 25 July. Those are the first letters in some while and it’s maddening, dear, to realize that mail can get here in a week – and most often doesn’t. Anyway, darling, they made me happy because whether I’ve told you by now or not – I love to read that you love me, miss me, want me – as much as I do you.

There’s no doubt in my mind at all, sweetheart, that these are more trying times than even in combat. Certainly it’s so – over here. The waiting is almost interminable and the uncertainty equally as aggravating. Your letters, darling, make all the difference in the world and I miss them terribly when they don’t arrive. I have so darn much time in which to think; each day is like the other and I just don’t seem to be getting anywhere. I owe about 20 letters to various people and I just don’t have the ambition or desire to sit down and write anyone except you and the folks. No, sweetheart, I’m not having a breakdown; I’ve just got a lot of energy and I don’t want to expend it there.

I went to the movies last nite and saw “Those Endearing Young Charms” with L. Day and R. Young. It was sweet enough – but you just can’t see a movie over here anymore that has soldiers in it and listen to it intelligibly. They hoot, jeer and cheer – and believe me, dear – usually with good reason – because most of them are so obviously phony – it is laughable. I thought the plot in this picture just too trite for me – however it was dressed up – and if I never see another picture showing a fellow saying “goodbye” to his girl – it will be O.K. with me. It just makes me a bit too sad and reminiscent. I don’t know how dramatic our own “goodbye” was, sweetheart, but it was sincere and true and that’s what counts.

Oh I also got a letter from Dad A – he had had 3 days of his vacation and was apparently enjoying it. He said he had received a card from you in Portland and that he was expecting you, Mother and Dad B over on one of the Sundays.

And I’m so glad you had a little diversion in Portland. It sounded like fun and boy how I’d have loved to have been driving you around in a convertible instead of some other Joe. No – I’m not jealous, dear, because I know I can trust you and your affection. And I felt good to know that other men find you attractive, darling, although I knew it anyway. Heck – I’m fussier than most guys, I think, and I find you very attractive to me. But a guy likes to think that his sweetheart is desirable. Yup, honey, I’m coming home tout suite – i.e. to say, as tout suite as the Army will let me. Oh – before I change the subject – I’m kind of glad you didn’t stay that extra week – And take it easy, dear, when you go swimming alone. There’s no sense going out too far or too long. You need me along – then we’ll go together. I’m glad you like the water – because I do too.

Well, darling, I’ll close now. I do miss you and want you – something fierce. My love gets stronger and stronger, dear. Do you feel it??

Love to the folks – and

All my love is yours alone

Greg

* TIDBIT *

about "Those Endearing Young Charms"


Movie Poster

From the Turner Classic Movies web site comes this full synopsis of "Those Endearing Young Charms," as well as The New York Times review, below.

Helen Brandt and her mother have moved from their small town of Ellsworth Falls to New York City, where Helen is employed as a perfume clerk at a department store and Mrs. Brandt works for the war relief effort. Jerry, a home town boy who has just returned from serving in France, is trying to woo Helen, but she only thinks of him as a "pal." While eating at a café one day, Jerry meets his college buddy, Lieutenant Hank Travers, a pilot in the Air Force, and begins to rhapsodize about Helen. Hank, a cynical philanderer, is intrigued by Jerry's description and insists upon accompanying him on his date with Helen that night. To monopolize Helen's time, Hank invites Mrs. Brandt to join them dancing and she accepts. At the club, Mrs. Brandt begins crying when the band plays the song "Those Endearing Young Charms," and Helen realizes that her mother is crying for her long-lost love, Jerry's father.

After taking Helen and Mrs. Brandt home that night, Hank waits for Mrs. Brandt to retire, then tries to romance Helen. Although she is attracted to Hank, Helen realizes that he is not serious about her and asks him to leave. The next day at work, however, Helen is distracted by thoughts of Hank, and when he leaves a message for her to phone him later that night, she eagerly returns his call. When Mrs. Brandt warns her daughter that Hank is dishonorable, Helen reminds her that she lost Jerry's father because she was afraid to pursue him. The next day, Hank convinces Helen's supervisor to give her the day off and drives Helen to the army airfield. There, Hank learns that he has a two-day reprieve before leaving for the front, but to put pressure on Helen, he tells her that he is leaving right away and bids her farewell. That night, Helen returns home distraught and tells her mother that she is in love with Hank.

Laraine Day, 1945

Soon after, Hank calls to inform Helen that his mission has been fogged in, and Helen agrees to meet him at the club. From the club, Hank drives Helen to the seashore, where her loving endearments force him to admit that he lied about leaving in order to manipulate her into falling in love with him. Dejected, Helen returns home and Hank goes back to his hotel room, where he learns that his leave has been canceled. Realizing that he is in love with Helen, Hank rushes to her apartment to beg her forgiveness, but Helen orders him to leave. Recognizing Hank's sincerity, Mrs. Brandt urges Helen to go after him, and as they embrace on the airstrip, minutes before Hank is to take off, Helen promises to wait for him.

Movie "Lobby Card"

Here is The New York Times review, written by Bosley Crowther and published on 20 June 1945.

As long as we have dime-store fiction and movies that imitate same we will probably have such pictures as RKO's "Those Endearing Young Charms." And as long as we have such pictures as this one that came to the Palace yesterday there will probably be young ladies who will greet them with "ohs" and "ahs." So there's no use in being disagreeable about this silly little film in which a virtuous shop-girl falls in love with an Air Force "wolf."

There's no use, for instance, in remarking that it is all a romantic cliché in which love and the little lady's virtue overcome the gentleman's dark designs. Nor is there further use in observing that the values are conventionally smug—that the little lady picks the smooth lieutenant in preference to a bouncing Pfc., that the smoothie has a pocket full of money and that he knows all the fashionable ways. And there's no point in passing critical judgment on an obviously artificial script, on slickly mechanical direction and performances in a make-believe style.

The audience with which this writer saw the picture yesterday was made up, quite obviously, of shop-girls released for the Eisenhower parade. They seemed to love this tickling eyewash. So what's a fellow to say?

01 August 1945

No letter today. Just this:

The letter for 1 August 1945 was attached to the one for 31 July, when Greg received his Bronze Star Medal. Here are some pictures from that Parade Day in Stanislaus Square, Nancy, France.

Greg is next to receive Bronze Star Medal
Nancy, France - August 1945


Parade Day - Battalion in Formation
Nancy, France - August 1945


Battalion on Review, Parade Day
Nancy, France - August 1945


French Review, Parade Day
Nancy, France - August 1945


And the Band Played


Staff at Officer's Quarters


Greg in Nancy


Pole on right had been USA flag.
Stars and Stripes going up, with Russian and French Flags waiting
Flag Ceremony - Nancy, France - August 1945


Crowd Watches Medal Presentation, Stanislaus Place
Nancy, France - August 1945


Parade Day - Nancy, France - August 1945


Soldiers in Nancy, France - August 1945

* TIDBIT *

about the Warning to the Japanese People


Front Side of OWI notice #2106
“LeMay bombing leaflet,”

OWI (Office of War Information) notice #2106, dubbed the “LeMay bombing leaflet,” was delivered to Hiroshima, Nagasaki, and 33 other Japanese cities on 1 August 1945. It was called the "LeMay bombing leaflet" because Major General Curtis E. LeMay, who was the commander of the Pacific Theater of war during this time, had requested that this particular leaflet be dropped over Japan. The Japanese text on the reverse side of the leaflet carried the following warning:

Read this carefully as it may save your life or the life of a relative or friend. In the next few days, some or all of the cities named on the reverse side will be destroyed by American bombs. These cities contain military installations and workshops or factories which produce military goods. We are determined to destroy all of the tools of the military clique which they are using to prolong this useless war. But, unfortunately, bombs have no eyes. So, in accordance with America's humanitarian policies, the American Air Force, which does not wish to injure innocent people, now gives you warning to evacuate the cities named and save your lives. America is not fighting the Japanese people but is fighting the military clique which has enslaved the Japanese people. The peace which America will bring will free the people from the oppression of the military clique and mean the emergence of a new and better Japan. You can restore peace by demanding new and good leaders who will end the war. We cannot promise that only these cities will be among those attacked but some or all of them will be, so heed this warning and evacuate these cities immediately.”

31 July 1945

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 513 % Postmaster, N.Y.

31 July, 1945      0915

Nancy

My dearest darling Wilma –

I probably won’t get very far with this letter at the present sitting, dear – but far enough to tell you I love you deeply – and more and more each day, if that is possible. I’m missing you these evenings something terribly – it makes no difference what sort of diversion I end up with. I find that my mind keeps wandering back to you, darling, and it’s so aggravating just to end it right there. I want so much to be with you and love you – it hurts. And for no particular reason last night, I became extremely annoyed with myself because I couldn’t remember how you sounded when you laughed. The Lord knows I can’t remember a good many other things – but for some reason or other – that bothered me more than anything else. But I’m not so really low down in spirits and morale as I may sound, sweetheart. The fact is – I do have you, whether near or far, dear – and you’re going to be so wonderful to come home to when I do.

This morning we’re having a formal parade at which time we’ll be decorated – about 35 of us, I guess – altogether. It’s a lot of hooey, dear, and I don’t like it – but it’s five points and therefore tolerable. At the moment, the sky is very gray and it looks as if it may start pouring any second – but the parade goes on, regardless. I’ll let you know later how things went.

Last night about seven of us went to the movies – I. Lupino in “Pillar to Post”. It was a bit on the silly side, but gay nevertheless and appreciated by anyone in the Army. We went at 1900 and left at 2100. We returned and played a couple of rubbers of Bridge. I went to bed at 2315. And now, sweetheart – it’s 0950 and I’ve got to go out and join the formation which takes off at 1000. See you later, dear –

1 August, 1945

Good morning, darling –

I’m sorry – but the rest of the day yesterday just went whizzing by and I didn’t get a chance to sit down and write again. The parade etc. ran off well enough. It was held in Stanislaus Square and there was quite a crowd of civilians. An Army band will attract anyone – even me. The whole thing took about an hour, I guess.

I’m enclosing the citation, dear, which sounds fancy but which in effect means only that I didn’t get into any trouble and that I was around from day to day. Incidentally – you’ll notice it was issued by the XXIst Corps. The reason is that although it was submitted to the 7th Corps, the latter moved out of Leipzig and the 21st took over the unfinished administrative business etc. You can see, too, dear – by the enclosed copy of the General Orders – that the 21st Corps was in 7th Army and so were we for a while – which means that starting with the Third Army early in Normandy – we ended up in the First, Ninth and 7th. There weren’t any more. But the 438th has always managed to get a crack at anything and everything. And I’ll still take the First Army and 7th Corps. Oh by the way, darling – 7th Corps finally published a history of the Corps – rather well done and I’ve got a copy. It was done in Leipzig but our copies just reached us. I’m sending it out to you.

          

 Mission Accomplished Cover and Title Page

You’ll find it interesting. Hell – with all the maps, books, digest etc. that I’m sending you – I won’t be able to tell you a thing about the war, sweetheart. I’ll start to say something about Aachen – or the Hürtgen Forest or some such thing and you’ll say, “I know – you had the support of the 4th Infantry and the 3rd Armored and after an artillery barrage of two hours, the 4th Cavalry took off etc. etc.” Oh well – I’ll give you some word pictures. And I can always change the subject and tell you I love you – and take time out to show you. That’ll confuse you – and everything will be fine.

I’ve got to run along now and see a couple of sick prisoners – American, darling – so excuse me. Remember – darling – 31 July or 1 August – my love for you does not change – it’s constant, true and sincere.

Love to the folks, dear – and

My love is yours for always

Greg

* TIDBIT *

about the Massacre in Ústí


Ústí nad Labem

Ústí nad Labem (Aussig an der Elbe in German) is a city of the Czech Republic, in the Ústí nad Labem Region. The city is the 7th-most populous in the country. Ústí is situated in a mountainous district at the merge of the Bílina and the Elbe (Labe) Rivers, and, besides being an active river port, is an important railway junction. Ústí was a center of early German National Socialism and was made up of a large German-speaking population. Because Hitler and his army had conquered Czechoslovakia, many Czechs wanted to take revenge after the defeat of Germany in WWII. While some returning Nazis were targeted, the vast majority were innnocent Germans. Most of the comments below come from an article by Zuzana Šmídová on the web site of Radio Prague, while some come from other sources.

On Tuesday, 31 July 1945, a munitions dump exploded in Usti nad Labem, a largely ethnic German town in northern Bohemia. The death toll was 26 or 27 people (7 of them Czechs), and dozens were injured. Months of propaganda had spread the fear that underground bands of German terrorists operated unchecked throughout the country, sabotaging its reconstruction. Rumor quickly spread that German partisans were responsible. In response, crowds of Czechs turned on the Germans remaining in the town.

A massacre of ethnic Germans, who had to wear white armbands after the war and so were easy to identify, began in four places in the city. They were beaten and bayonetted, shot or drowned in a fire pond. On the Ústí (Elbe) bridge, a German, Georg Schörghuber, shouted something provocative and was thrown into the river by the crowd, and shot by soldiers when he was trying to swim out. Soon other people, including a woman with a baby and pram, were thrown into the water and later shot at. In the train station and through the streets the pogrom spread. Before it was over, around eighty German-speaking townspeople were dead. Some say hundreds were murdered.

The perpetrators were the "Revolutionary Guards" (a post-war paramilitary group), Czech and Soviet soldiers, and a group of unknown Czechs who had recently arrived from elsewhere. Local Czechs, including the mayor, Josef Vondra, tried to help the victims. Finally, a state of emergency and a curfew were declared, and by 18:25, streets had been cleared by the army. Like many controversial events in post-war Czechoslovakia, contemporary propaganda blamed the incident on the Germans. But according to extensive research by historian Vladimir Kaiser, it was the chief investigator of the explosion - a military officer named Bedrich Pokorny - who laid the explosives, as a pretext for revenge.

For many years the event was shrouded in silence in Czechoslovakia. On the other side of the border, however, some historians began calling the massacre the "Sudeten Lidice", estimating the number of dead at over two thousand.

[Lidice, a village in the Czech Republic, had been completely destroyed by German forces on orders from Adolf Hitler and Heinrich Himmler in reprisal for the assassination of Reich Protector Reinhard Heydrich in the late spring of 1942. On 10 June 1942, all 173 men over 16 years of age from the village were murdered. Several hundred women and over 100 children were deported to concentration camps; a few children considered racially suitable for "Germanization" were handed over to SS families and the rest were sent to the Chełmno extermination camp where they were gassed to death. After the war ended, only 153 women and 17 children returned.]

After 1990 Czech historians started investigating the Ústí event themselves, tracking down Czech and German witnesses. Today, according to Vladimir Kaiser, it is clear that the explosion and the massacre were both planned well in advance. The explosion, he said, was only a signal for the massacre, which took place literally seconds afterwards in several different locations simultaneously. The historians have also uncovered facts suggesting that both the explosion and the massacre were planned by officials from the Czechoslovak ministries of interior and national defense.

Sixty years later, on 31 July 2005, the mayor of Ústí unveiled a memorial plaque on the bridge with the text "In the memory of victims of violence on 31 July 1945". At that time, the issue of the Sudeten Germans was still a thorny one causing tension between the Czech Republic and Germany. Prague had so far refused to repeal the 1945 Benes decrees ordering the expulsion of 2.5 million Germans from Czechoslovakia, despite calls for it to do so as a mark of respect and admission of responsibility. The decrees had stripped Germans of their property and expelled them for their support for Hitler's annexation of the Sudetenland area in the run-up to World War II. Some 25,000 to 30,000 people died during the expulsions.

In spite of the sensitivity of the subject and the opposition to the memorial, the ceremony went ahead. Unveiling the bronze plaque, Ústí mayor Petr Gandalovic emphasized that the victims had been innocent people killed after the end of the war.

30 July 1945

V-MAIL

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 513 % Postmaster, N.Y.

30 July, 1945

Nancy

My dearest and only Sweetheart –

Before I go any farther – let me tell you that you are my heart alone and I love you as I’ve never loved anyone before, darling. And if that isn’t clear, dear – it means that I think of you night and day and my thoughts and plans concern only you!

You asked me in a recent letter from Portland about the Bronze Star. I’ll send you the citation, sweetheart. The actual ceremony is tomorrow – and a whole raft of us in the battalion are getting them. I’ll probably send the Medal to my mother, dear – if you don’t mind. I think that’s the customary thing to do. She’ll give it to us later – O.K.?

Rumors, rumors – but no facts yet. Things are popping all around us and outfits are being cut up, broken up, replaced etc. We’ll get it too – and I think – soon – but for the present – nix.

But how did I change the subject? Darling I love you and you me – and after all – that’s what matters most. Love to the folks.

And all my everlasting love,

Greg

* TIDBIT *

about Starving Men in Minnesota


Samuel Legg, Conscientious Objector
lost 35 pounds in 5 months

The following article, titled "Men Starve in Minnesota", was published in LIFE magazine, Volume 19, Number 5, page 43, published on 30 July, 1945.

In a 40-room laboratory housed in the football stadium at the University of Minnesota, 34 young men are being systematically starved. They are conscientious objectors from all over the U.S. who volunteered as "guinea pigs" in a scientific study of starvation. Its immediate object is to find out the best way to rehabilitate the hunger-wasted millions of Europe.

Last February the men were launched on a frugal diet of two meals a day consisting mainly of bread, potatoes and turnips, which approximates the protein-deficient food rations of Europe. Average daily value of the meals is 1,600 calories as compared with the 3,300 calories required by these men prior to the diet. Moreover, the volunteers must do work every day which requires the expenditure of 3,300 calories. Result is that they have lost about 22% of their weight, their average pulse rate has dropped to 35, their hearts have shrunk and their blood volume is down 10%.

Dr. Ancel Keys, Project Director,
measures chest of James Plaugher, volunteer

Mentally the men feel a general lethargy, having little interest in conversation or sex. They complain of feeling "old." They report an inability to keep warm, average body temperature being 95.8 degrees F.

Coordination efficiency was also tested

The single most consuming thought uppermost in their minds, day and night, is food. They love to plan meals, spend hours with lavishly illustrated cookbooks and have guilty nightmares in which they dream of feasting on huge meals.

Never allowed to leave the laboratory alone, men use a "buddy" system when they go to town in search of gum, which helps them forget hunger. On one excursion one of the men passed a bakery which wafted delicious odors of cakes and pies out to the street through its exhaust fan. Unable to withstand these rich temptations, he rushed in, bought a dozen doughnuts, and handed them out to kinds in the street. They ate them gratefully as he watched with obvious relish.

Now in the diet's sixth and last month, the volunteers soon will be given a three-month rehabilitation diet. They will be divided into four groups and each group will be given different supplementary foods to determine which foods have the best effect in restoring wasted flesh and energy. Many of the men wish to go to stricken areas to add their firsthand knowledge to the problem. So far, legal and diplomatic obstacles have thwarted previous attempts to get abroad.

29 July 1945

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 513 % Postmaster, N.Y.

29 July, 1945      1000

Nancy

Wilma, darling –

Right now I am already chez moi having been down to the Dispensary and cleaned up sick-call. Yes – this is Sunday again and we’re supposed to relax even more today than during the rest of the week. This is a nice place in which to relax but as usual – something comes along to disturb things. We were told yesterday we’d have to vacate soon and return the house to the French – as part of an overall policy of returning private homes etc. back to the French government. That would mean we’d have to move to the Kaserne (barracks) ["Kaserne" is the German word for “barracks”] where our C.P., batteries, aid station etc. are. They are old stone buildings, large, heavy, gray and cold. It will be nothing like this – but what the hell – we’ve had a little of everything so far and we’ll be able to stand that. At any rate – we’ll be right in the center of town.

Caserne Thiry, Nancy France - Post Card

Yesterday was quiet. Right after lunch we thought we’d play a little Bridge. We started at 1300 and finished in time for chow at 1800. There’s nothing doing on a Saturday afternoon anyway – and it helped kill some more time for us.

Gee, darling, the mail situation is just plain rotten and I’ll be darned if I see why now. We’re permanently located, the war’s over and there are plenty of ships coming this way. We haven’t had any mail for 3 or 4 days now and there’s no excuse for it that I can see from here.

It’s so odd, sweetheart. I know you so well and haven’t had the pleasure of having my arm get sore from sitting next to you in a movie when they’re showing a chiller-diller. I’ll love that, I assure you, dear. And in addition to that – there’s always “kneesies!” This business of becoming faint when you see blood is something else again – but I guess you’ll get over that. And anyway – there’s not much need of your having to see very much of it. And yes – sweetheart – I still want to marry you!!

Say, by the way, dear – how is Old Orchard Beach? Is the Pier still functioning and the crowd just as mixed? I never liked the place either – but I’ve spent part of a day there on half-a-dozen occasions. A long time ago I knew a girl whose family used to go there and I went up to visit her from time to time. There are a dozen other places along the Maine Coast that are far better. Kennebunkport is one of them. We’ll be able to visit up there, too, because a very good friend of mine practiced there before he joined the Navy and presumably he’ll go back because he was doing very well. He has a swell wife and I know you’ll like them – Ken and Mary Cuneo.

Well – here it is Sunday morning and I haven’t told you I loved you dearly, miss you terribly, think of you constantly – or anything. What a heck of a fiancé I turned out to be. But I do, darling – I do all of those things and words just aren’t going to show you enough – how I feel. I’ll have to be near you, kiss you with my arms tightly around you – and then finally all these words of the past will take on a subjective as well as objective meaning. Until then, though, I’ll go on telling you how much I love and want you, darling, and that’s more than I want anything else in the world.

All for now, sweetheart. Be well. My best love to the folks – and

All my love is yours for always

Greg

* TIDBIT *

about The Sinking of the U.S.S. Indianapolis


U.S.S. Indianapolis on 10 July 1945

The world's first operational atomic bomb was delivered by the Indianapolis, (CA-35) to the island of Tinian on 26 July 1945. The Indianapolis then reported to CINCPAC (Commander-In-Chief, Pacific) Headquarters at Guam for further orders. She was directed to join the battleship USS Idaho (BB-42) at Leyte Gulf in the Philippines to prepare for the invasion of Japan. The Indianapolis, which was not equipped with sonar or hydrophones and which was not provided with a destroyer escort, departed Guam on a course of 262 degrees making about 17 knots.

At 23:00 on 29 July 1945 Japanese submarine I-58 surfaced 250 miles north of Palau and headed south. Shortly afterwards the navigation officer Lt. Tanaka spotted the Indianapolis (CA-35). I-58 submerged and prepared to attack with Type 95 torpedoes. After maneuvering into position, at 23:26 the submarine fired a spread of six torpedoes at 2-second intervals. The ship was hit by two torpedoes out of the six fired. The first blew away the bow, the second struck near midship on the starboard side adjacent to a fuel tank and a powder magazine. The resulting explosion split the ship to the keel, knocking out all electric power. Within minutes she went down rapidly by the bow, rolling to starboard.

Twelve minutes later, Indianapolis rolled completely over, then her stern rose into the air, and down she plunged. About 300 of the 1,196 men on board died in the sinking. The rest of the crew, 880 men, with few lifeboats and many without lifejackets, floated in the water awaiting rescue. They waited and waited and waited. Battered by a savage sea, they struggled to survive, fighting off hypothermia, sharks, physical and mental exhaustion, and, finally, hallucinatory dementia. By the time their rescue – which was purely accidental – occurred, all but 321 men had lost their lives; 4 more would die in military hospitals shortly thereafter.

Failure to Learn of the Sinking

The positions of all vessels of which the headquarters was concerned were plotted on plotting boards kept at the Headquarters of Commander Marianas on Guam and of the Commander Philippine Sea Frontier on Leyte. However, for ships as large as the Indianapolis, it was assumed that they would reach their destinations on time, unless reported otherwise. Therefore, their positions were based on predictions, and not on reports. On 31 July, when she should have arrived at Leyte, Indianapolis was removed from the board in the headquarters of Commander Marianas. She was also recorded as having arrived at Leyte by the headquarters of Commander Philippine Sea Frontier. Lieutenant Stuart B. Gibson, the Operations Officer under the Port Director, Tacloban, was the officer responsible for tracking the movements of Indianapolis. The non-arrival of that vessel on schedule was known at once to Lieutenant Gibson who failed to investigate the matter and made no immediate report of the fact to his superiors.

The Indianapolis sent distress calls before sinking. Three stations received the signals; however, none acted upon the call. One commander was drunk, another had ordered his men not to disturb him and a third thought it was a Japanese prank. (For a long time the Navy denied that a distress call had been sent. The receipt of the call came to light only after the release of declassified records.)

It wasn't until shortly after 11:00 A.M. of the fourth day that the survivors were accidentally discovered by Lt. (jg) Wilbur C. Gwinn, piloting his PV-1 Ventura Bomber on routine anti-submarine patrol. Lieutenant Gwinn had lost the weight from his navigational antenna trailing behind the plane. While crawling back through the fuselage of his plane to repair the thrashing antenna, Gwinn happened to glance down at the sea and noticed a long oil slick. Back in the cockpit, Gwinn dropped down to investigate and spotted men floating in the sea. Radioing his base at Peleiu, he alerted, "many men in the water". A PBY (seaplane) under the command of LT. R. Adrian Marks was dispatched to lend assistance and report. Enroute to the scene, Marks overflew the destroyer USS Cecil Doyle (DD-368), and alerted her captain, of the emergency. The captain of the Doyle, on his own authority, decided to divert to the scene.

Arriving hours ahead of the Doyle, Marks' crew began dropping rubber rafts and supplies. While so engaged, they observed men being attacked by sharks. Disregarding standing orders not to land at sea, Marks landed and began taxiing to pick up the stragglers and lone swimmers who were at greatest risk of shark attack. Learning the men were the crew of the Indianapolis, he radioed the news, requesting immediate assistance. The Doyle responded she was enroute.

As complete darkness fell, Marks waited for help to arrive, all the while continuing to seek out and pull nearly dead men from the water. When the plane's fuselage was full, survivors were tied to the wing with parachute cord. Marks and his crew rescued 56 men that day. The Cecil Doyle was the first vessel on the scene. Homing on Marks' PBY in total darkness, the Doyle halted to avoid killing or further injuring survivors, and began taking Marks' survivors aboard.

Disregarding the safety of his own vessel, the Doyle's captain pointed his largest searchlight into the night sky to serve as a beacon for other rescue vessels. This beacon was the first indication to most survivors, that their prayers had been answered. Help had at last arrived.

The Navy Finds a Scapegoat

Immediately prior to the attack, the seas had been moderate, the visibility fluctuating but poor in general, and Indianapolis had been steaming at 17 kn (20 mph; 31 km/h). Captain Charles B. McVay III, who had commanded Indianapolis since November 1944, survived the sinking, and was with those rescued days later. In November 1945, he was court-martialed and convicted of "hazarding his ship by failing to zigzag."

Rear Admiral Charles Butler McVay III

Several things about the court-martial were controversial. There was evidence that the Navy itself had placed the ship in harm's way, in that McVay's orders were to "zigzag at his discretion, weather permitting." Poor visibility would call zigzagging off.Further, Mochitsura Hashimoto, commander of I-58, testified that zigzagging would have made no difference. In addition,

Captain McVay was not told that shortly before his departure from Guam a Japanese submarine within range of his path had sunk a destroyer escort, the USS Underhill. Further, over 350 Navy warships had been lost in combat during World War II, but none of their captains had been court-martialed.

In 1946, at the behest of Fleet Admiral Chester Nimitz who had become Chief of Naval Operations, Secretary Forrestal remitted McVay's sentence and restored him to duty. McVay served out his time in the New Orleans Naval District and retired in 1949 with the rank of Rear Admiral. While many of Indianapolis's survivors said McVay was not to blame for the sinking, the families of some of the men who died did ("Merry Christmas! Our family's holiday would be a lot merrier if you hadn't killed my son." - read one piece of hate mail). The guilt that was placed on his shoulders mounted until he committed suicide in 1968, using his Navy-issue revolver. McVay was discovered with a toy sailor in one hand on his front lawn.

In October 2000, the United States Congress passed a resolution that Captain McVay's record should state that "he is exonerated for the loss of Indianapolis." President Bill Clinton signed the resolution. The resolution noted that although several hundred ships of the U.S. Navy were lost in combat in World War II, McVay was the only captain to be court-martialed for the sinking of his ship. In July 2001, the Secretary of the Navy ordered McVay's record cleared of all wrongdoing.

Here is one survivor's story.

28 July 1945

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 513 % Postmaster, N.Y.

28 July, 1945      0920

Nancy

My dearest sweetheart –

Just think – on this day I’ve been a Captain exactly two and one-half years. Had I been in the right outfit, I’d have been a Major a long time ago. That’s just another one of the “breaks” in the Army, although taking all into consideration, I have no complaints.

Every day now – rumors spring up all around us and I’ve decided, dear, to keep you posted on them from here on. Then – anything that does happen, won’t come as a complete surprise. First of all – and not in the line of a rumor – I’m amazed at the amount of doctors and nurses who are being pulled out of fairly old hospital units – to be shipped home and then to the CBI; and officers with fairly high scores too. It helps accentuate the importance of my staying right here with the 438th as long as possible – although, of course, all points are still being figured as of 12 May. Now the story is that when a Cat. IV outfit is ready to go home – they weed out all officers under 85 points and what happens to them – is right now in the field of conjecture, darling. One thing likely – if the points are low – is that they join an outfit in Cat. II, go home for 30 days – and then go to the Pacific; the other possibility is that such an officer would join the Occupation Forces until such time as the point system would be readjusted and then undoubtedly – having had almost enough points before – he’d be among the first to go home.

Well – those are the things being discussed around here these days, dear. In other words – the consensus of opinion in my own battalion is that when they start getting this outfit ready for home, I’d be detached and attached to something else. I’ll hate that, because I’d like nothing better than to sail home with these boys – but transfers and changes are a dime-a-dozen these days and the individual does not count. No matter how you look at it – the important thing is to stay out of an outfit headed for the Pacific – not because of the fear of combat, but because, once there – it’s a heluva long trip and wait – back. And every outfit leaving here now means one more in the Pacific – and that much less need of me.

Enough of that, darling. Let’s see – did I tell you I saw “Without Love” the other night? Seems to me you mentioned seeing it some time ago. It was an easy picture to sit through and I enjoyed it. Of late – with little work to do – we’ve been getting into the habit of playing a little Bridge after lunch and supper and we find it very relaxing. We usually play one or two rubbers at a sitting, but it’s enough to keep you from getting rusty. Right now I’m almost willing to say that about the most important thing I’ve gotten out of the war has been a little knowledge of Bridge. What a laugh! And how I can, I don’t know. But don’t forget, darling, the war did bring you to me – and it was really worth fighting for for that reason. But what comes after the war is what we’re waiting for, and you know, sweetheart, I kind of think we’re going to find that wonderful!

I’ll close now, dear – reminding you yet again that I love you and only you more than anything else in the world. Love to the folks.

All my everlasting love,

Greg

* TIDBIT *

about the B-25 and the Empire State Building

The following story appeared on a former The New York Times web site.

On the foggy morning of Saturday, 28 July 1945, Lt. Colonel William Smith was piloting a U.S. Army B-25 bomber through New York City. He was on his way to Newark Airport to pick up his commanding officer, but for some reason he showed up over LaGuardia Airport and asked for a weather report. Because of the poor visibility, the LaGuardia tower wanted to him to land, but Smith requested and received permission from the military to continue on to Newark. The last transmission from the LaGuardia tower to the plane was a foreboding warning: "From where I'm sitting, I can't see the top of the Empire State Building."

Avoiding Skyscrapers
Confronted with dense fog, Smith dropped the bomber low to regain visibility, where he found himself in the middle of Manhattan, surrounded by skyscrapers. At first, the bomber was headed directly for the New York Central Building but at the last minute, Smith was able to bank west and miss it. Unfortunately, this put him in line for another skyscraper. Smith managed to miss several skyscrapers until he was headed for the Empire State Building. At the last minute, Smith tried to get the bomber to climb and twist away, but it was too late.

The Crash
At 9:49 a.m., the ten-ton, B-25 bomber smashed into the north side of the Empire State Building. The majority of the plane hit the 79th floor, creating a hole in the building eighteen feet wide and twenty feet high. The plane's high-octane fuel exploded, hurtling flames down the side of the building and inside through hallways and stairwells all the way down to the 75th floor.

[Note: The above and subsequent pictures were found in a gallery
on the web site of the Las Vegas Sun].
[CLICK to enlarge.]

World War II had caused many to shift to a six-day work week; thus there were many people at work in the Empire State Building that Saturday. The plane crashed into the offices of the War Relief Services of the National Catholic Welfare Conference. Catherine O'Connor described the crash:

The plane exploded within the building. There were five or six seconds - I was tottering on my feet trying to keep my balance - and three-quarters of the office was instantaneously consumed in this sheet of flame. One man was standing inside the flame. I could see him. It was a co-worker, Joe Fountain. His whole body was on fire. I kept calling to him, "Come on, Joe; come on, Joe." He walked out of it.

Joe Fountain died several days later. Eleven of the office workers were burned to death, some still sitting at their desks, others while trying to run from the flames.

One of the engines and part of the landing gear hurtled across the 79th floor, through wall partitions and two fire walls, and out the south wall's windows to fall onto a twelve-story building across 33rd Street. The other engine flew into an elevator shaft and landed on an elevator car. The car began to plummet, slowed somewhat by emergency safety devices. Miraculously, when help arrived at the remains of the elevator car in the basement, the two women inside the car were still alive.

Bomber wheel in elevator shaft

Some debris from the crash fell to the streets below, sending pedestrians scurrying for cover, but most fell onto the buildings setbacks at the fifth floor. Still, a bulk of the wreckage remained stuck in the side of the building. After the flames were extinguished and the remains of the victims removed, the rest of the wreckage was removed through the building.

Wreckage in Building


Debris on 34th Street

The plane crash killed 14 people (11 office workers and the three crewmen) plus injured 26 others. Though the integrity of the Empire State Building was not affected, the cost of the damage done by the crash was $1 million.