21 September 1945

Note: The last letter was 18 September 1945.
The remaining entries are paperwork and mementos.


This telegram speaks for itself.
Imagine how Greg felt sending it...
and how Wilma felt receiving it.


And more paperwork before the flight home!

Disease Free

Again, only one firearm going home


Again, only two items "captured from the enemy"

20 September 1945

Note: The last letter was 18 September 1945.
The remaining entries are paperwork and mementos.

FRONT AND BACK OF PARIS TROOPS PASS
Seine Section, Central Registration Bureau

Showing Stay at the American Red Cross Independence Club
Hotel de Crillon, 10 Place de la Concorde, Paris, France
from at least 20 September to 23 September 1945
(The pass was only good for 72 hours... Was there a later Pass?

Hotel de Crillon on VE Day, 8 May 1945 (above)
and today (below)

SHIPPING TICKET
For items that would travel by ship

Dated 20 September 1945
Signed as received at Fort Devens on 10 October 1945

Fort Devens Post Headquarters in 1945 (above)
and an aerial view of the former Fort today (below)

The Fort was closed in the mid-1990s.
It was sold for $575,000 in June of 2012
to become a movie production studio.

19 September 1945

Note: The last letter was 18 September 1945.
The remaining entries are paperwork and mementos.

Greg received his "Green Project" (return home) orders on 19 September 1945, and therefore did not mention these orders in his last letter, on 18 September. Even if he had had an inkling, no doubt he wouldn't write it until he was sure. He knew that writing a letter on the 19th made no sense since he would probably be home - or at least would have sent a telegram - before the letter would arrive. In any case, there probably were no words for the joy, excitement and anticipation he felt on that day. Here are those long-awaited orders...

ORDERS TO RETURN HOME VIA PARIS
(Translated, below)

Here's the same thing, with abbreviations translated...

1.  CAPTAIN [GREG], Medical Detachment, 438th AAA AW Bn (M) will proceed on or about 20 September 1945 to Paris, France, reporting upon arrival to Transportation Officer, Seine Section, for move by Green Project Debarkation for move to reception station nearest his home for further instruction and disposition. Captain [GREG is released from further assignment and duty in this theater. Effective Date of Change on Morning Report: 4 October 1945

2. Travel by military or naval aircraft, Army or Navy transportation, Commercial Steamship, belligerent vessel, aircraft and/or rail transportation is directed. The provisions of AR 35-4820 19 April 1945, will apply to the Officer named above while traveling outside this theater.

3. The baggage allowance of 65 pounds is authorized while traveling by air. All other authorization excesses and personal baggage will be packed, marked with owner's name, rank, Army Service Number, arm of service and specific address in the U.S. where baggage is to be forwarded and turned over to the Effects Quartermaster for shipment by water to the U.S. Request for the shipment of baggage to the U.S. will be made in accordance with European Theater of Operations Standard Operating Procedure #45, "Baggage", 1 July 1945. The Officer named above will be equipped as presented in Circular 99, Headquarters European Theater of Operations USA, 18 July 1945.

4. Information concerning War Department, Army or personal activities of a military nature, will not be discussed by means of newspapers, magazines, books, lectures, radio, or any other method without prior clearance through the War Department, Bureau of Public Relations or the appropriate Publication Requirement Officer of Army installations.

5. Correspondents and publishers will be notified to discontinue mailing letters and publications until they receive notification of new address. The appropriate War Department Adjunct General Office Form will be used for the above purpose.

6. Transcontinental Travel Directed is Necessary Troop Carrier Squadron 60-114, 500 T 431-02, 03, 04, 07, 08, 212/60425.

7. Attention is invited to letter, Headquarters European Theater of Operations USA, 20 July 45, File AG 311.4, M-GB, relative to clearance through customs on leaving and entering the U.S.
8. Mess gear, canteen, and canteen cup will accompany Officer.

The "GREEN PROJECT" Booklet

Click to Enlarge








TRANSFER OF MEDICAL DETACHMENT FUND

18 September 1945

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 513 % Postmaster, N.Y.

18 September, 1945

Nancy

Wilma darling –

What do you think? Yup – you’ve guessed it – I love you more than anyone else in the world, and I just don’t want you to forget that. The moon’s getting bigger again – and it may still be big enough when you get this letter for you to look up at it too and realize that a few thousand miles away – I’m wishing on it – and the wishes concern you and me. I think we’ll spend a lot of time together – looking at full moons, darling.

Boy – I got a bunch of letters this morning: two from you – 10th September the latest, one from Dad A, one from Eleanor who liked my recent picture very much (and heck, dear – you said it was bleary, blurry and pretty good!) and two letters from Lawrence. Not bad, not bad – and enough to perk up my morale about 40%. That’s a lot – these days, dear. One of your letters was written when you were meeting Gus Bergson – and you seemed to be having a good time. I’m glad. I had forgotten just who she was – but she recalled the connection when she mentioned Joe Auerbach, Sid Papp and Henry Gesme. I knew them all. Phil Bergson sounds awfully familiar but I can’t seem to place him. Your description of Gus makes her sound swell and I’m sure I’ll like her. How is it – you’re friendly with her – oh yes – I almost forgot – thru Red Cross.

Your other letter tried to cheer me up. You had received a couple from me in which I sounded bored. I’m sorry, darling. I do try to hide it. But I am all right – and your reasoning is good. The fact is I certainly ought to be home in ’45. With any sort of break – it ought to be sooner; I’ll be home to stay and out of uniform not long after. A couple of months ago – I’d never allow myself to even think in such terms. So we do have a lot to be thankful for. It means we can really get started in Salem much sooner than I had hoped for. I’m not worrying one bit about us; I’m sure we’ll find we love each other in person as well as thru our letters – and I think I can make you happy. And as for single or double beds – hell – it won’t make any difference at all to me, sweetheart. Don’t forget – I still have my rubber mattress – although it does have a patch in it over a hole made by a bullet from a Carbine. I guess I can tell you about it now. It was fairly close. I had been lying on it one night and one of the boys picked up my rifle. I sort of turned – to adjust my radio – and off went the carbine – right through the mattress and out into the wall. It would have shattered one of my ankles, had I not turned toward the radio. This was back during the Belgian Bulge.

Before I forget it – if you see that hero from the 635^th Q.M. Laundry Co – ask him how rough he found it up front. That’s what gets us mad – these boys who never even heard the sound of our own long distance (15 miles) artillery going off – let alone anything else – telling about other outfits not being up front. Oh yes – they got battle stars for the Battle of the Rhine – for example – by being back here in Nancy and Rheims. As you say – Phooey!! It’s too bad they don’t save some of that stuff for us. They know darn well – they wouldn’t get very far. Hell – I’m mad!

Well – I’ll change my mood darling, before I close and go out to eat. Can I tell you one more time that I love you dearly? Surely I can – and do. And what’s more – I always will, dear.

All for now – and love to the folks.

All my everlasting love is yours –

Greg

* TIDBIT *

about Home Sweet Home

From TIME magazine, Volume XLVI, Number 12, published this week in September 1945, comes this article:

Summer had faded into the season which Western Indians called The-Moon-When-Deer-Rub-Their-Horns; September's hot days and moonless nights held the first, smoky promise of fall. Across the continent the people of the U.S. looked at a land at peace after the years of war.

Soldiers who had cheered Manhattan's towers when their ships docked now strained their eyes for the half-forgotten tree or turn of road which would mean the real end of their long journey home. War workers bound back to farms and small towns, millions who had been city-bound by gasoline rationing looked out again at the U.S. scene they best remembered—a two-lane highway seen through the windshield of a four-door sedan.

The wartime years had left their mark. Weeds grew around once immaculate service stations, in many a gravel drive and rural schoolyard. Vermont's neglected pastures were overrun with purple bergamot, and Louisiana's bayous with orchid-like water hyacinth. Fireweed grew on steep acres of newly logged land in the Western foothills. But in its broad sweep, in color and loom of hill, the land was unchanged.

The Hills of Home.
The fields between New England's stone walls were still lush and green. The salt smell of the sea still blew in from every coast. Highways still boasted their gaudy billboards; they ran past barns painted with baking powder ads and signposts cluttered with the weathered, cardboard portraits of political candidates. In the South the cotton was waist high. Beneath the northern border the wheat lands were bright with yellow stubble. The Western ranges with their white-faced cattle were sere again with the late summer heat. Sidetracked freight cars still bore the familiar slogans on their red sides: The Route of Phoebe Snow, The Katy, The Southern Serves the South. Leaves were turning yellow in the high valleys of the Rocky Mountains. In the Southwest, mirages still sprang up along the roads and the horizon bloomed with the dust of distant plowing.

But the feel of home and peace was more than this. In the cattle country it was the excitement of rodeo time: the smell of corrals, the sight of a squealing bronco making his first, lurching jump in dusty sunlight. To many an American it was the lovely, casual look of a yellow fly line falling out on running water and the first, heart-stirring tug of a hooked trout. There would be hunting soon and with it would come the cold feel and oily click of a rifle's cocking lever, the look of a deer slung across the car's radiator, the sight of ducks in mist or pheasant starting like an explosion of color from brown grass, the distant belling of a Bluetick hound.

There were other, less dramatic joys—a visit to a county fair, a meal in a roadside restaurant, an idle ride aboard a yawl or cabin cruiser or outboard-powered rowboat.

The Important Things.
For six long years the news had come from overseas. In war-jammed cities the important things of existence had been steel shavings coiling from a machine tool, the glare of a welding torch, the sound of riveting gun and typewriter, the brain fag and weariness of overwork. But now the U.S. experienced the quiet clarity of eye and mind which comes after a long fever.

The color and perfume of flowers was real again—Maine's goldenrod, Wisconsin's black-eyed Susan, New Mexico's Indian paintbrush. Suddenly there was nothing outlandish in the thud of a punted football, the rhythm of a dance band, the bright expensive look of department-store windows, and the solid, un-shattered buildings. Across the land last week it was hot, and once more the U.S. people could listen with contentment to that most peaceful of all evening music—the tinkling of the lawn sprinklers, turning drowsily in the darkness.

17 September 1945

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 513 % Postmaster, N.Y.

17 September, 1945

Nancy      1630

My dearest darling Wilma –

This will be a shortie – but I do want to wish you and your folks – a happy and healthy New Year and I hope I’m going to be around soon to help you make it happy. I prayed for us today, sweetheart, and spent a good part of the day in the Synagogue. Services were very good and the Chaplain gave an excellent sermon. Last nite I went to Kol Nidre services, too, and I enjoyed that too. I’m not much of a Jew, I suppose, but when I do go to Synagogue I really enjoy it and I always feel definitely uplifted spiritually.

The weather has been Spring-like today and it hasn’t helped make this infernal waiting any easier. The only consolation lies in the fact that the quotas seem to be going out very regularly now. And the latest in our outfit is that 5 more officers leave Friday next, i.e. the 21st of September – and that cleans up all officers down to 94. That’s really something, dear, because I’m only 12 points away right now. Gee this place is going to be like a morgue when this next batch goes. They include some of the original 438’ers and I hate to see them go. It’s a shame the Army has to rip outfits apart – the way they’re doing it to this one. There ought to have been some plan to move an outfit, en masse, back to the States for demobilization. It means that each of us goes out alone – or with one other. The only other officer with 82 is Jim Copleston – a swell fellow, by the way – but he lives in New York – and the latest dope is that they separate you right here at the repple depples before you sail – that is – New Yorkers sail for Dix, for example, while I would sail for Standish or Devens. That’s not official – but it’s what we’ve been hearing. Fundamentally, darling, I don’t give a damn. I merely want to get on board a boat headed for the U.S.A. and home and everything I left behind. It seems slow, of course, but it’s coming closer and closer – and boy how I love that thought!

And boy how I love you and everything you mean to me! I’m so sure that everything is going to work out all right, sweetheart, and that we’re going to be happily married et al. I know I love you and that you love me; we’ve waited for each other with sincerity and hope and we just can’t miss. Darn it – I grow so impatient when I write like that. I want to be with you, hold you and kiss you and really feel you’re mine. Again – I can only say soon.

And that’s all for now, darling. I’ve got lots to do right now. Hope to hear from you in the morning. Meanwhile – be well and send my love to the folks –

All my dearest and sincerest love,

Greg

* TIDBIT *

about What's in a Word

From TIME magazine, Volume XLVI, Number 12, published on 17 September 1945 come these articles:

"RUSSIA: Eh, Tovarish?"

What should you call people who live in Russia? The New York Herald Tribune last week found that the answer was a little complicated. A "Trib man" went to see Secretary Pavel I. Fedosimov of the Soviet Consulate, and asked: Should his people be called Russians? Not collectively, said Mr. Fedosimov, for they include 149 other nationalities.

Pavel I. Fedosimov
(Later determined to be a spy)

What about Reds? No good for civilians, said Mr. Fedosimov. That applies only to members of the Red Army and the Red Navy — or to pretty girls who are called "reds" when they are apple-cheeked. Comrade, tovarish? Perfectly all right for friends or acquaintances, explained Mr. Fedosimov, but no good for strangers. Then you say grazhdanin (citizen). Soviets, perhaps? No good. That means council.

Mr. Fedosimov thought the best collective phrase was "Soviet peoples." Then he confessed sadly that the Soviet peoples have the same trouble — and persist in calling themselves Russians, even though they know it's wrong. As wrong, he added, as for the citizens of the U.S. to call themselves Americans.

FOREIGN NEWS: Cutlery Please"

By Japanese account, the two-handed swords of their fighting men are sharp enough to cut through cherry blossoms floating toward the earth. On less poetic occasions, they have been known to cut through three bodies in a single sweep. Last week the Japs set out in their own manner to make the world forget the practical uses of their snickersnee.

In a new "interpretation of weapons" under the surrender terms, the Ministry of Home Affairs announced that swords, Japan's holiest symbols of power, were no longer to be regarded as weapons. Henceforth, said the Ministry hopefully, they would be "objects of ancient art and cutlery."

Douglas MacArthur paid no noticeable attention. He announced that the 700-year-old blade once sported by General Tomoyuki Yamashita was being sent out to West Point. Annapolis will get the sword once carried by Vice Admiral Denshichi Okochi.

Yamashita's Sword
on Display at West Point

16 September 1945

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 513 % Postmaster, N.Y.

16 September, 1945

Nancy      1100

My dearest sweetheart –

I’m kind of blue today – why I don’t know particularly except that I love you and as yet I can’t have you. The weekend has been terribly dull, probably by contrast. The French are celebrating the first anniversary of their liberation and they’ve had parades, speeches, dances etc. It makes me morbid to see everyone else having a good time while I go on merely marking time.

Today marks the completion of 22 months of overseas duty for me and you know as well as I that that is a real chunk of time. How much longer can it be? If they keep going at this rate – it shouldn’t be long, sweetheart. We’re down to 96 points on the officers and 80 on the enlisted men, and a new quota has been coming in every day or two. If they just keep it up – everything will be fine.

Well – I didn’t mean to complain, darling, but it is getting more and more difficult to take. I’m so anxious to get home to you – I just don’t know how to put it into words. Enough of it now – at any rate. I read with interest your reaction to the “Song of Bernadette”. First of all I was surprised you had just seen it. It must have hit Boston a long time ago. I saw it about a year ago in a little town we were in just South of Paris; it was the town where the Rothschild estate was – I remember it quite well. It was excellently done – but wasn’t received too well by the troops. We were driving along fast those days, everyone was keyed up, and what we needed was a fast moving musical comedy. The picture was very slow. Other than that – I enjoyed it immensely, although I can’t say I reacted to the Catholic theme quite the way you did.

Say – good news, darling – some one just came in and showed me the latest Stars and Stripes. There’s an item in it about doctors and dentists. There’s a new critical score out for actual release and the score is 80. Hell I had 82 and enough with the old score; now I have 90 and more than enough. It means this, sweetheart, that when I actually get back – I don’t have to sweat out a reassignment somewhere; I can count on being discharged. What a sweet word! Gosh – that news was just what I needed to perk me up from this low level I’m in. Hold tight, darling. I’ll be home before you know it and then I’ll show you how much I love you. You won’t have to read it; you’ll hear it, dear – over and over again.

Gee – they’ve moved the clocks back an hour as of 0300 Sunday a.m. and I don’t know if the mess is going by the old or new time. I’d better go see or I’ll miss out on our Sunday chicken. Sweetheart – it’s getting close and I can’t help but admit I’m getting keyed. It’s going to be a wonderful experience and I’m ready for it.

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

All my deepest love

Greg

P.S. Tonite is Yom Kippur and I’m going to services in the a.m., of course.

Love,

G.

* TIDBIT *

about Six Days on a Raft

World War II came to a conclusion on August 14, 1945, eight days after the first atomic bomb was dropped on Japan. The USS YMS 472 was one vessel whose job was not complete at war's end. They were assigned to Okinawa Island with orders to sweep the area and destroy active mines. The men were already having thoughts of home, family and togetherness. The weight of the war had, finally, been lifted off of their shoulders. However, not a single one of them suspected they would soon be introduced to a new type of enemy. On 16 September 1945, thirty-three days after the war, a category 3 typhoon named "Ida" would catch the thirty-one man crew of the YMS 472 off guard and send the ship to the bottom of the ocean. Bill Harrison was one of 10 men who made it onto a life raft.

On 25 February 2010, Bill Harrison told his story to the Fullerton Sunrise Rotary in Fullerton, California. Here is a photo from the Rotary's Newsletter about the event, followed by a review of Mr. Harrison's presentation.

Mr. Bill Harrison, a member of the Greatest Generation shared his real life story of being marooned in the South Pacific for 6 days in 1945, when the mine sweeper he served on ran into a Category 3 Typhoon. Able to flee the ship and make his way on to a life raft, he and 9 of his mates found themselves adrift in the South Pacific for 6 days without food or water.

With sharks circling the raft, Mr. Harrison recounted the long six days he and his friends spent on the raft. He described the incredible thirst that he had experienced and how his will power was able to overcome the temptation to drink the salt water that surrounded him. Mr. Harrison described the hallucinations that he and his friends experienced and how one of his mates had imagined seeing a taxi at sea and proceeded to leave the raft screaming for the taxi only to be devoured by the sharks that circled the raft.

With an island with a mountain in the horizon, Mr. Harrison recalled a Bible Scripture that his mother taught. “If you have the faith of a grain of an mustard seed, God will remove the mountain.” It was at that point that he realized that he should pray to God thanking God for being saved, rather than to pray to God asking to be saved. He convinced the rest of his friends also to thank God for saving them. About an hour later they saw 3 search planes on the horizon, the last of which had made a 90 degree turn. It had spotted them and eventually rescued them.

With help they felt was Heaven sent, four of the nine men survived.

Harrison published the complete story in a book title "Six Men on a Raft," published in paperback in February 2007 by Authorhouse, ISBN 1425983693, ISBN-13: 978142598368.

15 September 1945

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 513 % Postmaster, N.Y.

15 September, 1945      10450

Nancy

Dearest darling fiancée –

I was supposed to have a court today but for one reason or another it was called off at the last minute – and so here I am, dear. Gee – before I forget it – a letter of yours the other day mentioned some clipping or other from the Traveler - and you never enclosed it in the letter. What was it, dear?

Two letters from you came the first thing this morning – both stimulating, too. One in particular caused me to do a lot of thinking. You brought up the subject which you say we’ve avoided and which I mentioned in my letter of 28 August – namely the question of whether or not we’ll “click” once we’re together again. I don’t actually remember in what connection I brought it up, but if it has been avoided in the past, it hasn’t been with any intent on my part. I’ve just answered, darling, that there’s no question that we were meant for each other. Oh, I’m fully aware that we may seem strange to one another at first – although that isn’t necessary because as I sit here and write to you – it’s just as if I were talking with you, and your letters have been just as communicative to me. I feel that it will be the most natural thing in the world for me to tell you I love you, to kiss you and make love to you, to visit our friends, to get the feel of Boston and suburbs in my blood again – and to discuss with you the plans for our marriage. Even people who were married before they were separated by war – are sweating out their reactions after a two year stretch of not seeing each other – so certainly we’re entitled to a bit of speculation without qualms that it might be a wavering of emotions on the part of either one of us. That’s a touch of circumlocution, dear, but you understand what I mean I’m sure. Frankly and honestly I’m not doubtful or worried about it at all. I just want to get back; from there on I know it’s in the bag.

You mention that you’re a little stale after about 2 years of inactivity – and I can certainly understand that. Some fun and entertainment might do you a little good at that – I think your trip to Montreal gave you a little taste of what you’ve missed all this time. It’s most natural, too. But I can’t see it as a test – because you’ve been tested. Furthermore – you couldn’t really compare me with another fellow – because you hardly can remember – except in your mind’s eye – what it was like to go out with me.

But for entertainment’s sake, darling, it’s probably a good idea – only please don’t get to like anyone too much.

Well – to change the subject only slightly – I love you, darling – and you know that, I guess. Believe me – these months since VE day have been tough on me, too. But hell, it can’t be long now. I still have no specific date for myself except that troops are really moving out by the thousands. I’ll make a boat too, some day – Just hold on a bit longer, darling. I’ll love you hard and long once I get back – for I’ll love no one else and I never have loved anyone else as I love you.

So long, dear – Love to the folks –

All my sincerest love and devotion

Greg.

THE PAPERWORK BEGINS...



The three Certificates above, dated 15 September 1945,
all have the same language.
They were all signed by Raymond W. Hoag, Major - CAC
of the 438th AAA Aw Bn.

1. I certify that I have personally examined the items of captured enemy military equipment in the possession of "Greg", Capt MC; that the trophy value of each item exceeds any training, service or salvage value; that they do not include any explosives; and that the possession thereof is in conformity with the regulations of the Theater Commander.

2. I further certify that the item referred to was captured from the enemy by the above man.

3. The items referred to are:

1 camera, Luminar
field glasses, Zeiss, 7x marine
1 pistol, Browning Automatic, .32 caliber

* TIDBIT *

about The Florida Hurricane of 1945

At this time in World War II, the U.S. had many military manufacturing sites around the country and many more military bases than it has today in some areas. It was on this day, 15 September 1945, that a powerful hurricane struck the greater Miami area. It was a "Cape Verde" hurricane, having originated off the coast of Africa and moved thousands of miles west becoming a major hurricane (Category 3) as it roared through the Turks and Caicos, and then the southern Bahamas. Still strengthening it reach Category (CAT) 4 intensity before reaching south Miami coastline; winds were estimated to be near 140 mph. Many thought this one would move south of Miami, others thought it might have died over the Bahamas along its long path.

By the morning of September 15th winds were howling, along the south Florida coast waves were rising above 10 feet (high for an area that rarely sees waves above 5 feet), and rain clouds were moving onshore with increasing severity. Miami residents began to realize the hurricane had not died and was rapidly approaching. People raced to take cover from the approaching beast. The eye moved across Homestead in the early afternoon, and turned towards the NW, then north, moving by Miami from the southeast in the late afternoon, depending what location you were, and then made a sharp turn up the spine of the Florida peninsula. By the time it moved by Jacksonville about 24 hours later, it had weakened to a strong tropical storm.

But the damage had already been done to south Florida, the eyewall of the hurricane moved across south Miami blowing roofs off of structures, blowing away power lines, downing trees both small and large and producing one of the largest "storm surges" recorded in south Florida. Depending on where you were water rose 10-15 feet above normal astronomical tide levels, flooding coastal areas, destroying docks and piers and severely eroding the beaches. Collins Avenue in Miami when under water! Coastal businesses filled with water and sand. Boats were tossed like toys onshore from deeper water and lay on dry land listing after the water receded.

But it was the wind that was horrendous in this CAT 4 hurricane. One location hard hit by some of the strongest winds measured a peak 2-minute wind of 170 mph with gusts estimated to be near 195 mph for a few seconds! Many areas had sustained winds above 100 mph with higher gusts.

Unnamed Florida Hurricane, 15 September 1945

Those deadly and destructive winds carved a path of destruction that included the U.S. Naval Air Station at Richmond Heights. Huge hangers built to house military aircraft and blimps were blasted by the high winds. The huge hangers caught the extreme winds like floating kites and the result was catastrophic. Hanger roofs blew away, and hangers fell to pieces in the high winds. Airplane fuel was ignited by the hanger collapses and fires raged across the air station in winds that today would have been considered CAT 5! The result was total destruction of 25 blimps, 183 military planes, 153 civilian planes, and 150 automobiles which workers routinely parked in the hangers.

Those that had parked outside found the paint blasted off the upwind sides of their cars by the tremendous winds. More than 200 people were injured in the racing flames that blew out not long after destroying the air field. After the event engineers examined metal doors that had bend under the force of the extreme winds and calculated that winds had to have been at least 160 mph!

At Homestead Air Reserve Base, three years to the day of the base's founding, enlisted housing facilities, the nurses' dormitory and the base exchange were all destroyed. The roof was ripped off what would later be Building 741, also known as the "Big Hangar." The base laundry and fire station were both declared total losses. The few remaining aircraft were tossed about like leaves.

Homestead Air Reserve Hangar after the hurricane.

Here is the path of that unnamed hurricane, colored according to the Saffir-Simpson Scale. The scale starts with Tropical Depression and Tropical Storm and ends with CAT 5.

Path of Storm

Here is a map of all hurricanes with effects on Florida from 1900-1949, using the same Saffir-Simpson color scale.