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.

14 September 1945

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 513 % Postmaster, N.Y.

14 September, 1945      1400

Nancy

My dearest sweetheart –

Well as of tomorrow we lose an officer down to the point score of 97 and with more to come. You know, dear, they may get down to the 80’s pretty soon. Everything is still on the basis of the old score of VE day. I still have 20 men left in the medical detachment, but I may lose 2 more any day. It doesn’t seem now as if we’ll get home as a unit; they seem to be breaking us up piecemeal, instead, and that’s too bad. Gee we’re losing officers now that we were together with for 38 months and they’re drifting off one by one.

Last nite was quiet. I continued to straighten out my room a bit. Some of the fellows went to see a French production of the Desert Song – and I’m glad I didn’t go. It stank. I stayed here, listened to the radio and finished reading “Wild in the River”. It was fairly good, but I’ve read better by Louis Bromfield.

I’m now in my room and I’ve just finished re-reading a letter from you I received this morning. It was written the first day you arrived in Montreal. So the RCAF tried to pick you up, did they? They’re a pretty smooth bunch and rather nice. When we came over on the Aquitania there were 600 of them with us – fresh out of their equivalent of O.C.S. We all got along fine. I was also glad to read you got along well with your French. If I stay here much longer, I’ll get to speak it quite well. I’m likely to come out with all sorts of expressions, dear, like – “Hallo babee” – for example. Now don’t get me wrong, darling!

I also had a letter from Dad A – the first one since the Sunday you and the folks spent at Nantasket. He said that Mother A and he had a very pleasant day the day you and the folks came down. And of course he wanted to know when I was coming home.

Here in Nancy there’s quite a bit of excitement in preparation for a big day tomorrow. General Patton is here to become an honorary citizen of Nancy. He is credited – or his 3rd Army is – with the liberation of the City. There’s to be a parade, speeches and all that. He’ll probably eat it up too. I don’t think I’ll be able to see it because I have court – starting at 1000 and lasting all day.

Every nite now – some one wants to celebrate the going-away of another officer. I’m almost ready to quit, dear, because the routine is quite a pace – with someone leaving every other day or so. All the celebrating I want to do is with you, sweetheart; that’s all I think about, dream about, talk about. And what a celebration that will be! Talk about loving you! Darling – beware! I love you so, dear – if you only knew. And it’s almost within reach; the wars are over, troops are sailing every day, somewhere or other I’m on the list. Ohh –– boyy –––

All for now, dear. Sit tight. Love to the folks – and

All my deepest love,

Greg

* TIDBIT *

about The Burma-Siam Railway
and the Japanese "Hospitals"

The following, written by Scott Hayden, was excerpted from the site called "Military History at Suite 101."

The Death Railway

The Burma–Siam Railway, or the Death Railway as it was known because of the atrocious working conditions and massive death toll, was a construction project designed to supply Japanese troops in Burma. When Allied submarine attacks made the sea passage too risky, the Japanese needed an alternative method to shuttle their materials to Burma to support the planned invasion of India. The solution was a 415 kilometer track that would link the existing Bangkok–Singapore line in the south to the Moulmein–Ye railway in Burma.

Japanese engineers calculated it would take at least five years to complete the railway, but it was built in less than two. Mechanized equipment was scarce so the Japanese used the next best thing at their disposal — a large and expendable workforce. In 1942, POWs in Singapore's Changi prison were divided into large groups and transported to Burma and Siam (Thailand).

In Burma, the railway started at Thanbyuzayat and ended at Nong Pladuk in Thailand. There were dozens of POW camps between those two points and prisoners worked from opposite ends of the line towards the center at the Three Pagodas Pass.

These men, from 8th Division, were captured before landing
and sent directly to Changi Prison.
The 4th from the right is Robert Hosking,
whose granddaughter identified this photo.

The following article was written by Rohan D. Rivett who had just returned from Siam (now Thailand), where he had been a prisoner of war for three and a half years. It was published in The Argus, Melbourne, Australia on 14 September 1945. Mr. Rivett had reported for The Argus before becoming a prisoner.

HORRORS OF JAP "HOSPITALS" IN BURMA, SIAM
POW's Died In Hundreds

When Allied prisoners were first moved to Burma and Siam to work on the railway we were assured that there was no need to take much in our medical panniers, as we would be plentifully supplied with all medical requisites and our sick cared for in modern hospitals. This statement was widely publicized in the Japanese Press throughout Asia.

Here is the story of how the Nippon authorities fulfilled their promises.

The first hospital in Burma was established at POW headquarters for the Burma groups at Thanbyuzayat, and was placed close to the railway junction among supply sheds, dumps, and Japanese troop camps without any distinguishing mark being permitted. Inevitably it was bombed out. On June 12 and 15, 1943, Liberator aircraft bombed and machine-gunned the hospital area, causing casualties of nearly 100, of whom over 50 were then killed or died subsequently. The Japanese reaction was amusement.

Until a new group of hospital huts was built in January, 1943, all Burma sick were housed in filthy, verminous coolie huts, dilapidated and leaky. One of the worst of these was the dysentery hut, a veritable charnel house, where scores of men died in a few weeks, being denied even a pint of water to wash in.

From the very beginning, according to the computations of Sergeant Bev Brown, pharmacist, from Launceston, Tasmania, this base hospital did not receive even 2% of its requirements from the Japanese. The only thing adequately supplied was quinine, and as the Japanese controlled most of the world supply this was hardly surprising. Instruments, sterilizing, washing, and cooking gear were not provided at all, but had to be improvised from old tins, petrol drums, and wide bamboos. Bandages and dressings were so scarce that at some of the up-country camps, where the need rose to a thousand bandages a week, the Japanese issue was six a month - this for two or three thousand prisoners, most of whom had tropical ulcers.

From the first, even at the base hospital, which was well off compared with the so-called "hospital huts" up-jungle, no base for making antiseptics and dressings was provided. We were entirely dependent on supplies of axle grease smuggled in from the Japanese workshops by men working there, who risked barbarous punishment to aid their sick comrades.

CHOLERA BREAKS OUT
As the months wore on and the rains came, the inadequate diet and the long hours of heavy work sapped the resistance of the majority in all camps, and more and more succumbed to the scourges of malaria, cerebral, ST and BT, amoebic and bacillary dysentery, beri beri, pellagra, chronic diarrhea, and cardiac trouble. Finally, in May, 1943, cholera descended on several camps.

All along the 415 kilometers of projected track the condition of both the sick and fit steadily worsened through the rainy season of 1943. Our Medical Officers (MOs) struggled heroically, but often vainly, owing to their lack of nearly all their chief essentials. Increasing malnutrition carried off; hundreds monthly who on a normal diet would easily have recovered from their ailments. A leading Melbourne surgeon said to me that 90% of our dead would be alive today if we had had British "Tommy's" rations along the line.

At the 55 kilometer camp, which became the main hospital in Burma after Thanbyuzayat was bombed out, utter dearth of everything produced amazing improvisations by a band of devoted MOs and orderlies, assisted by convalescent officers. Colonel Albert Coates, of Melbourne, carried out 150 major amputations with a common meat saw, duly returned to the butcher's shop to carve the daily meat ration, whenever there was any.

Lacking all anesthetics, a clever Dutch chemist named Boxthall extracted novacaine from the dentist's cocaine supply, and this provided a local anesthetic for half an hour. No general anesthetic was ever obtainable despite the most passionate pleas to the Japanese. Toes and fingers, rotted by tropical ulcers, were snapped off with a pair of ordinary scissors without any anesthetic whatever.

SAVED MANY LIVES
The same chemist made a brilliant contribution by extracting emmatine, the only counter to amoebic dysentery from the ipecacuana plant, and thus saved many lives. Cattle entrails provided the gut for sutures. Bamboo provided crutches, washing mugs, trays, tubes, and a dozen other vital necessities. "Beds" for the worst cases were constructed with rice bags of bamboo frames. Bandages and dressings were improvised from all rags, scraps of clothing, the bottoms of mosquito nets, and old clothes. Tin cans and other junk provided bowls and containers.

At one time in this hospital, out of 2,400 very sick men, over 1,000 had serious ulcers, some of which laid bare the leg bone from knee to ankle. According to the handbook of tropical diseases in the camp, the tropical ulcer is "found chiefly among slave gangs working on starvation diet in disease-ridden jungles and marshes." Salt was often the only thing available to dress these hideous sores, and pus-soaked bandages had to be used and reused for months on end. The general prevalence of diarrhea and dysentery immensely complicated the problem of keeping even a semblance of cleanliness, and inevitably the stench in every hut was overpowering. The hospital could be "smelt" 200 yards outside the camp area.

"BLACK MARKET" MEAT
With typical courage, many Australian other ranks risked imprisonment and terrible beatings to get out of camp and buy meat from the natives on the "black market" with money provided by officers or from the sale of irreplaceable clothing or precious personal possessions.

Working tirelessly from dawn until long after dark, the MOs and orderlies under Colonel Coates never slackened in the face of discouragements and lacks before which Hippocrates himself might well have quailed...

HIDEOUS RAIL JOURNEYS
Yet, despite such work, when this camp was closed up after six months there were 500 graves in the adjacent cemetery, while in a near by camp, where F and H force personnel were "hospitalized," it is believed that there were nearly 2,000 graves. Many of these deaths occurred during the hideous rail journeys of the sick from the working camps, such journeys often occupying up to seven days, although the distance was seldom more than 60 miles.

Two factors contributed enormously to prevent a still higher death rate. Officers contributed all but 20 rupees of their monthly pay to the sick by the end of 1943, and the operators of the secret radios up and down the line kept the hospitals supplied with news, the effect of which on morale was incalculable. Nowhere in the world was the advance of Montgomery across the Western Desert, the turning of the tide in Russia, the bombing of Berlin, and the gradual progress in the Pacific watched with deeper interest or more passionate anxiety than among the thousands lying prostrate in the filthy hospital huts of the Japanese jungle camps.

Conditions for most prisoners in Burma and Siam improved considerably in 1944 when the Japanese realized that the war was going against them. Finally, in May of that year we got our first issue of Red Cross medical supplies. Thanks to these, and to the establishment of a somewhat better base hospital at Nankom Paton, in Siam, not far from Bangkok, the general death rate was relatively low through the last l8 months of captivity.

But those of us who have survived can never forget the 15,000 Allied officers and men lying dead along the railway, or the way in which, despite our utmost efforts, their captors allowed them to die.

Here is an interview of a Death Railway Survivor. His earlier war history ends at about 14:55 minutes in, when the Death Railway part of his story begins.

13 September 1945

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 513 % Postmaster, N.Y.

13 September, 1945      2000

Nancy

Dearest darling Wilma –

I almost didn’t get a chance to write you today and I would have been angry had I not. For I enjoy so much, dearest, reminding you that I love you, want you and miss you – and if I miss telling you that for even a day, well – the more fool I.

In the first place, darling, I had court today. That would have been enough to tie me up. In the second place, we had to move again. Yup – it’s hard to believe – but it’s true. As if we haven’t moved enough already – at this stage of the game we had to do it all over again. I tell you, dear, better not let me buy a house in a hurry or get settled too firmly in any one apartment; I’m sure that after 6 or 8 weeks I’ll insist – out of habit – on moving across the street, or two blocks down – or something. I honestly can’t imagine having all my clothes laid out neatly in one place and leaving them there. This time again, it was out of our control. In an attempt to return all private homes to their owners, all officers have been moved downtown into hotels. As a matter of fact we’re much better off now. For one thing, we’re centrally located and within walking distance of the movies, Red Cross and Kaserne; secondly, we have individual rooms, a large double bed – fresh sheets and regular hotel service. Well – what with court and all – I was really busy. I’ve just finished getting my room set, had a bath and here I am – just a bit tired – but never too tired to write to you.

And boy – I got mail today – one letter from Canada and two from Newton – 4 and 5 September and I found them very interesting and warm. I’m so glad you could think so sincerely of me amidst all the hubbub, glamour and excitement of Montreal. As we used to say, it must have been some shindig. I knew the family was connected with Seagram’s and Schenley’s; seems to me that Irv Fine’s cousin Ray married one branch of the family living in Boston – and their house, too, was by no means petite. At any rate, darling, I’m glad you enjoyed yourself and I hope the folks did, too. It makes me so mad though to think that others can hold you in their arms and dance with you – while I’m still here, kicking my heels and and just wondering what sort of sensation holding you in my arms is like, anyway. It’s such a long time, sweetheart. But when I do get you in my arms again – it will be for always, dear, and you won’t have to close your eyes and dream of me. I’ll be there and you’ll know it. What will it really be like to sit beside you, drink to your health and mine, look at you, hold you, feel the rush of blood thru my body – your presence being a much greater effect than anything alcohol could do – what will it be like? It will be wonderful, dear – and the reality of it will be something to cherish and thrive upon.

Gosh, sweetheart, I can’t be specific tonite. I wish I could say when – how I was getting home. I will get home and it can’t be too far away. And when I do get home – I swear I’ll make up for all the lost time. Believe me, dear.

And now, darling, goodnite until tomorrow. Love to the folks – and remember

I’m yours alone for always –

Greg

* TIDBIT *

about Some Words from Big Timber
regarding the News about some German Commanders


The Crazy Mountains just beyond Big Timber, Montana

Big Timber is the county seat of Sweet Grass County, Montana, United States. The population was 1,650 at the 2000 census. The city has a total area of 1.0 square mile (2.6 sq km), of which, 0.9 square miles (2.3 sq km) of it is land and 0.04 square miles (0.10 sq km) of it (3.09%) is water.

Here are a few articles published in The Big Timber Pioneer, Vol. 55, No. 48, Big Timber, Sweet Grass County, Montana, on Thursday, 13 September 1945. The newspaper image was put online by SmallTownPapers, Inc.

"Quisling Sentenced to Face Firing Squad for Betrayal"

Vidkum Quisling
18 July 1887 - 24 October 1945

OSLO, Norway, September 10 – Vidkum Quisling was convicted Monday of betraying his country to the Germans and sentenced to die before a firing squad.

The 59-year-old former puppet ruler, whose name has become a synonym for traitor the world over, stood impassive in the courtroom as Presiding Judge Erik Solem read the verdict, which was broadcast to the people of Norway. Quisling's jaw muscles tightened and his pallid face reddened. He did not speak until the judge informed him that while the treason conviction could not be appealed, he could ask the supreme court to reduce the sentence.

“Is it your intention to do this?”the judge asked.

“Yes,” replied Quisling who ruled Norway for Adolf Hitler from Sept. 25, 1940, until his cabinet resigned in the general German collapse last spring.

Solem – a member of the supreme court which would hear Quisling's mercy plea – read in measured, deliberate tones a lengthy statement in which the panel of three judges and four laymen gave their reasons for the unanimous verdict. “The defendant,” he concluded, “is sentenced to death for his crimes against military and civilian laws and crimes against the provisional laws.”

Unless delayed by a clemency move, the sentence probably will be carried out in three weeks. Quisling also was ordered to pay about 1,050,000 krones (about $200,000) court costs. The panel did not state how the money would be paid, but presumably his costly medieval paintings and other property will be confiscated.

The beetle-browed former puppet premier leaned on a table and stared, glassy-eyed, across the courtroom as Solem recited the people's indictment against him. Solem said testimony during the three-week trial proved that Quisling and Hitler decided together to declare the Norwegian government illegal on invasion day, so that Quisling could take control. He said, still speaking calmly and without apparent emotion, that Quisling plotted the invasion with Nazi military leaders, and that he tried to order Norway's forces to cease firing, in an attempt to hand over the country without a struggle.


Here is a short Newsreel about the verdict:

In the same paper was this article with the title:

“'Butcher of Warsaw' Captured in Japan”

 
Josef Albert Meisinger
14 September 1899 – 7 March 1947

SAN FRANCISCO, Sept. 7 – Bob Brumby said in a Mutual broadcast from Tokyo that the “Butcher of Warsaw” hulking Joseph Albert Meisinger, has been captured by five Americans who traveled 62 miles into unoccupied Japan on a tip that the Nazi was living among 100 German militarists in refuge.

The five Yanks journeyed to a hotel in the Japanese interior, ate lunch with two Germans and learned that Meisinger was living in a room below, said Brumby. He quoted Captains Adolph Gesler of Philadelphia and Theodore Holwitz of Milwaukee as saying that the Americans, whose names were not given, were warned that Meisinger was heavily armed and dangerous.

After lunch, the broadcast related, the Americans sent a note to Meisinger asking him to surrender. They told him they would take him to American authorities and suggested it would be better for him to surrender to Americans than to Russians. In a short time Meisinger appeared. He told the United States soldiers that he never would have allowed himself to be taken by the Russians and that he would have killed himself first.

Meisinger was accused of slaying 100,000 Jews in Warsaw between 1939 and 1941, when he went to Japan.

Here is one more article, this one with the title:

“Goering Reported in Excellent Health”

Hermann Goering
12 January 1893 - 15 October 1946

LONDON, Sept. 7 – Hermann Goering, who was taking 40 drug tablets a day when United States forces captured him last May, has been cured completely of his drug habit and is in perfect health for his forthcoming trial at Nurenberg as a war criminal, it was revealed Friday.

Thomas Blake, press aide to Justice Robert S. Jackson, American army was crimes prosecutor, said army physicians and psychiatrists pronounced Goering cured last week. They said when he was captured he had a suitcase containing 24,000 tablets of a morphine substitute, and physicians reduced the dosage gradually over a period of weeks.

12 September 1945

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 513 % Postmaster, N.Y.

12 September, 1945

Nancy

Wilma, darling –

It’s about two years ago that you were back at Holyoke and were coming weekends or on the holidays and I was seeing you each and every opportunity I could. I hardly knew you then and I left not long afterwards. And that will never cease to be a source of wonder for me – that I knew you so little before I left and yet feel so much a part of you now. Our letters to each other really served to bring us together and hold us together. No doubt there’s a lot about each other that we don’t know – but I know enough of your qualities already to know why I love you and to realize that my love is strong and sincere. I do love you in a way I never realized was possible and it’s very very satisfying, darling.

Gee – I’ve just been trying to get Frank Morse on the phone. I spoke to a Captain instead who told me Frank had just gone to bed – after having played poker all night. It’s now 0930. I didn’t disturb him and I’ll call tomorrow. But I did find out that the hospital is no longer operational, that they move out of Chalms on the 20th of this month and have a so-called readiness date for overseas movement on 8 October. Dammit – everybody seems to be moving out except us. Of course – Frank won’t be able to be discharged. According to the latest – Majors must have 100 points – and Frank hasn’t got that. Captains need 85 – so I’m safe with 90. One thing – when I do get home – I ought to be discharged shortly afterwards. I never had a specialist’s rating and they can’t possibly find me essential now. We are now down to 100 in officer’s points and we expect to lose several very soon – but no one knows for sure.

No mail yesterday and another dull, rainy day. I spent part of it reading Louis Bromfield’s “Wild is the River” – quite interesting, but not as well written as some others of his – although I haven’t yet finished it. In the evening – I went along to a U.S.O. show – something I do rarely. Although I miss an occasionally good show – on the whole, I miss some terrible ones, and in case you don’t know, sweetheart – there is absolutely nothing in this world as terrible as a bad U.S. O. show. The one last night was good. It lasted only an hour, but was fast and clever. We had a coke and donuts at the Red Cross and then back to quarters. I read in bed until 2315 – another habit I hadn’t exercised for along time. There’s nothing much on the docket for today except to wait for mail. I may go to a French movie tonite – but I’m not sure. I am sure of one thing though – it won’t make any difference what I do once I get home – as long as I’m with you, dear. The thought alone is wonderful but I just have to continue to be patient – just a little while longer I hope.

Have to stop now, sweetheart. Hope to hear from you today. Love to the folks – and all my sincerest love and devotion is yours, dear –

Greg

* TIDBIT *

about German Reparations to the Allies

The Guardian (UK) published an article called "Making Germany Pay" on 12 September 1945. Here is that article.

The United Nations are busy making out a bill to present to Germany for payment on account of reparations. Reparations may be put into two main categories - namely, those in kind and those in currency. After the last war reparations were fixed in terms of currency - that is to say, a certain sum of money was agreed upon as the amount Germany had to pay over a period of years.

This method of exacting compensation worked only for so long as other countries were prepared to lend money to Germany. It broke down for reasons which were as much concerned with the amount of the indemnity as with the methods of paying it. But ever since the idea of reparations in currency has been rather discredited. The Germans themselves, in their treatment of occupied countries during the war, have not been deterred by the so-called transfer difficulties with which their propaganda made much play after 1918.

There was a sweet simplicity about their solution. They took such assets - machinery and the people to work it - as they required from occupied countries and shipped them back to Germany. This is a method which is now in great favour among certain of the United Nations, but clearly if it is applied to the removal of capital assets it ensures that in the long run no other reparations can be paid.

The various United Nations approach the problem from different points of view according to the nature of their own economies. An interesting account of how the problem of reparations appears in a different guise to the Russians, the Americans, and ourselves is contained in the latest numbers of the Bulletin of "the Oxford Institute of Statistics".

The author, Mr. F. A. Barchardt points out that the production of goods and services by the paying country is a problem akin to the one which all countries had to face during the war. It consists essentially in producing a given quantity of goods and services which were not available for the current consumption of the population, but were expended in the war effort. After the war, in the guise of reparations, these goods and services - the consumption of the items being obviously changed - have to be transferred abroad. It is this problem of transfer, whether it be in kind or in currency, which is the crux of the matter.

Reparations as "Dumping"
If the receiving country is in a state of full employment the Government can sell the goods and use the proceeds for the public benefit - for example, the reduction of taxes or the provision of better social services. However, if the receiving country has resources which are unemployed then the reparations will be resented as being a substitute for goods which might be produced at home and thus create employment. The point made in the bulletin is that a country like Soviet Russia, which has a fully planned economy, may "easily plan to order those goods and services on reparation account which fit in with the over-all plan of the economy ... The opposite would seem to be true for the United States."

If the American economy tends to become under-employed not only will export surpluses be regarded as an essential prop to domestic employment but also "reparation goods imported into the country will be felt as annoying competition by the industries having unemployed capacities and lead to agitation for protection again 'reparation dumping'".

The position of Britain is somewhat in between the other two. There is a greater likelihood of over-employment here than there is in the United States, while the degree of national planning, though likely to increase, will be less than that of Russia. It is nevertheless hard to imagine the sort of things which Britain can receive from Germany without certain sections of industry in this country regarding such receipts as a threat to themselves.

The difficulties in the way of designing a uniform economic policy in their treatment of Germany which will suit the three great Powers are obvious. But if present tendencies persist so that the capital equipment of Germany is reduced to a very low level the future chances of extracting reparations in kind or in currency are exceedingly remote.

11 September 1945

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 513 % Postmaster, N.Y.

11 September, 1945

Nancy

My dearest sweetheart –

This month is slipping by very rapidly and not a heluva lot has happened yet. We lose one more officer tomorrow morning. He has 101 points – by virtue of one-each per papoose – male, and he’s a happy man. We decided to make him happier last nite – and on the spur of the moment, we had a binge. We hadn’t had one in some time – and it’s a long long time since we had one like the one last nite. The only reason the chandeliers didn’t come down is because we don’t have chandeliers. When the girls who came in to clean – saw the living room this a.m. – I think they felt like quitting.

I don’t really believe any of us really drank so much, dear. But there’s no use denying that everyone is keyed up – under more tension than usual – and a little alcohol merely serves as an outlet. At least that’s my interpretation for some of the wildness.

With officers down to 101 leaving – we’re really going to feel the pressure any day now. We have one officer with 100, two with 99, two with 98, one with 97, one 96, and 4 with 95. If all those go in the next two weeks or so – I’ll soon end up as battalion commander, if I don’t watch out. I sure wish I could be writing you that I was leaving any day. But it’ll come, sure as shooting.

Well, again no mail from you – but the whole battalion is short on mail, so I can’t blame it on Montreal. I’m anxious to hear more about that. Do you realize that I left you last way up in the styx of Rutland, Vt.?

Say – who does that kind Hellfont think he is, anyway – or have I already registered my indignation in another letter? He is persistent – and unfair, too, considering the fact that I’m not around; it’s not very soldierly of him – to say the least, darling – but I’m so glad your principles haven’t changed. It’s certainly comforting.

Boy that was a piece of gossip in re Dr. Alperte and his wife and newborn. If the story being passed around is not true – then it’s a nasty piece of business. On the other hand, if it is true – it’s not very nice either. I can’t understand why – if they did get into trouble like that – they didn’t marry earlier. Dr. Freedman is a pretty well-known pediatrician in town and I can imagine how things hummed.

Gosh, darling, it’s already 1000 and I have to speak to the battalion at 1015 – so I’d better take off. But not before I remind you yet again that you’re the dearest thing in the world to me, sweetheart, and that I love you with all the sincerity of which I am capable. Always remember that, dear. And now, so long and love to the folks.

All my everlasting love, darling

Greg.

* TIDBIT *

about Harry Stimson's Memorandum to Truman
about Letting the Soviet Union in on Atomic Bomb Secrets


"The only deadly sin I know is cynicism."
Henry L. Stimson

Henry Lewis Stimson (21 September 1867 – 20 October 1950) was an American statesman, who served as Secretary of War, Governor-General of the Philippines, and Secretary of State. He was a conservative Republican, and a leading lawyer in New York City. He is best known as the civilian Secretary of War during World War II, chosen for his aggressive stance against Nazi Germany, with responsibility for the Army and Air Force. He managed the drafting and training of 12 million soldiers and airmen, the purchase and transportation to battlefields of 30% of the nation's industrial output, and the building and decision to use the atomic bomb. He communicated his thoughts on the political aspects of the U.S. keeping the secrets of the bomb from the Soviet Union after V-J Day in the following letter and memorandum.

Memorandum on the Effects of Atomic Bomb
From: Henry Stimson, Secretary of War
To: Harry S Truman, President of the United States of America
Date: 11 September 1945

Mr. Stimson, who did not enjoy a good relationship with President Harry S. Truman, retired from office on his 78th birthday, 21 September 1945, just 10 days after dating this Letter and Memorandum. Click here to read the above-letter along with the entire Memorandum. Here are some excerpts from the Memorandum:

... To put the matter concisely, I consider the problem of our satisfactory relations with Russia as not merely connected with but as virtually dominated by the problem of the atomic bomb. Except for the problem of the control of the bomb, those relations, while vitally important, might not be immediately pressing. The establishment of relations of mutual confidence between her and us could afford to wait the slow progress of time. But with the discovery of the bomb they became immediately emergent. Those relations may be perhaps irretrievably embittered by the way in which we approach the solution of the bomb with Russia. For if we fail to approach them now and merely continue to negotiate with them, having this weapon rather ostentatiously on our hip, their suspicions and their distrust of our purposes and motives will increase. It will inspire them to greater efforts in an all-out effort to solve the problem. If the solution is achieved in that spirit, it is much less likely that we will ever get the kind of covenant we may desperately need in the future. This risk, is, I believe, greater than the other, inasmuch as our objective must be to get the best kind of international bargain we can - one that has some chance of being kept and saving civilization not for five or for twenty years, but forever.

The chief lesson I have learned in a long life is that the only way you can make a man trustworthy is to trust him; and the surest way to make him untrustworthy is to distrust him and show your distrust.

If the atomic bomb were merely another though more devastating military weapon to be assimilated into our pattern of international relations, it would be one thing. We could then follow the old custom of secrecy and nationalistic military superiority relying on international caution to prescribe the future use of the weapon as we did with gas. But I think the bomb instead constitutes merely a first step in a new control by man over the forces of nature too revolutionary and dangerous tofit into the old concepts. I think it really caps the climax of the age between man's growing technical power for destructiveness and his psychological power of self-control and group control-his moral power. If so, our method of approach to the Russians is a question of the most vital importance in the evolution of human progress.

... My idea of an approach to the Soviets would be a direct proposal after discussion with the British that we would be prepared in effect to enter an arrangement with the Russians, the general purpose of which would be to control and limit the use of the atomic bomb as an instrument of war and so far as possible to direct and encourage the development of atomic power for peaceful and humanitarian purposes. Such an approach might more specifically lead to the proposal that we would stop work on the further improvement in, or manufacture of, the bomb as a military weapon, provided the Russians and the British would agree to do likewise. It might also provide that we would be willing to impound what bombs we now have in the United States provided the Russians and the British would agree with us that in no event will they or we use a bomb as an instrument of war unless all three Governments agree to that use. We might also consider including in the arrangement a covenant with the U.K. and the Soviets providing for the exchange of benefits of future development whereby atomic energy may be applied on a mutually satisfactory basis for commercial or humanitarian purposes.

... I emphasize perhaps beyond all other considerations the importance of taking this action with Russia as a proposal of the United States - backed by Great Britain but peculiarly the proposal of the United States. Action of any international group of nations, including many small nations who have not demonstrated their potential power or responsibility in this war would not, in my opinion, be taken seriously by the Soviets. The loose debates which would surround such proposal, if put before a conference of nations, would provoke but scant favor from the Soviets. As I say, I think this is the most important point in the program.

10 September 1945

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 513 % Postmaster, N.Y.

10 September, 1945

Nancy

Dearest darling Wilma –

Say do you know that I already have about 65 days accrued leave coming to me? An officer gets 2½ days a month or 30 days per year and may accrue his leave up to a total of 120 days. The first year in the Army I accrued only 10 days; the second year – 22 days, and last year 30 days. What does it mean? Not a heck of a lot except that we get paid for that good time when we get discharged. It’s funny how all these things keep coming up about this stage of the game. Everything hinges on the subject of discharge – but what better subject could we talk about these days and nights.

Gee yesterday was a long, long day, dear. It was Sunday, cloudy. The courts were wet so we couldn’t play tennis. We sat around in the p.m. and then someone suggested shooting crap. That’s something we’ve never done – and I – never in my life. Well – I watched for an hour or so and then the disease got me. I had 700 odd francs in my wallet; I mean – it made an odd figure - and I decided I’d lose that. Actually I ended up winning 1000 francs – and now I still have an odd figure – dammit. But that is one dangerous game – and not for me. They started out light and kept raising the stakes. The dental officer ended up by losing $900.00 (dollars!) – yes that’s right – nine hundred. That’s what he owes and can’t pay yet. I don’t know how much he had in his wallet. And I know darn well he can’t afford it.

Well – at 1900 we went to the movies – George Raft in “Johnny Angel”. I thought it stank. And then back to quarters; read Time awhile and then to bed. Today it’s raining and another quiet day. Thursday I have court again and tomorrow I have to speak to the whole battalion. Guess the subject – yup – V.D. Boy are these boys going wild! And we used to have such an excellent record, too. I’ll be damned if I’m going to worry about it, though. I’ve done my duty in 3 years and if they want to foul up at this stage of the game – let them.

But why am I talking about things like that, sweetheart, when I should be writing only about us? I really can’t overdo telling you I love you, can I dear? I know the answer. Because if you want to hear it as often as I do – it means you always like it – and so do I. Funny how it never gets monotonous. I love you more than anything in the world, darling – and I’ll never get tired of telling you. And I thrill at the thought that we can count on our seeing and being with each other in only a matter of months – at the worst. There was a time, you remember, when it was years. And then it will be weeks – days – hours – well, you finish it, sweetheart.

I might as well stop here and dwell upon the last thought, dear. Just continue to be patient – and I’ll be back. For now, so long – and love to the folks.

All my sincerest love for always.

Greg

* TIDBIT *

about "People: Notions in Motion"

From Time Magazine (Volume XLVI, Number 11), published on 10 September 1945 comes this "PEOPLE" column.

Queen Helen, handsome mother of Rumania's King Mihai, heard that she was to be reimbursed for a personal war loss, suffered when U.S. bombers raided Brasov. En route to her from one of the raiders (Colonel Marshall R. Gray, now in Seattle) was a pair of nylons, to replace those she had torn while making royal tracks out of the city.

Princess Elizabeth of England was unofficially engaged to two foreign princes — according to rumors in each prince's country. Within eleven days Buckingham Palace denied that she was about to marry either 41-year-old Prince Regent Charles of Belgium, or 24-year-old Prince Philip of Greece.

Gabriel Pascal, British movie producer, went to Egypt to film Caesar and Cleopatra, found the Sphinx unphotogenic, imported a British-made model, left it behind after the shooting—inscribed: "With the compliments of [Cinemagnate] J. Arthur Rank."

Princess Gladys de Polignac of France's famed champagne family, Pommery (she married into it; her American mother married Le Petit Parisien's publisher), arrived in the U.S. on a Red Cross hunt for dental supplies, posed with a cluster of store teeth that was something new in costume jewelry. Item on her shopping list: four million false teeth.

Eleanor Roosevelt's future suddenly became a matter of speculation. Vassar College listed her name among some 200 submitted as possible successors next year to retiring President Henry Noble MacCracken. New York State's Republican Committee noted that her column had been "concerning itself more and more" with state and city politics, wondered aloud if she was going to run for Senator. From Hyde Park came a reminder that she had often sworn she would never run for public office. On the Vassar matter she made no comment.

Frances Perkins signed up for a temporary teaching job: two months of "management training" at Radcliffe College next winter.

Judy Garland, back in Hollywood after a long honeymoon, shared a secret with the world: she is going to have a baby next spring.

Out of the Past
Pastor Martin Niemöller, still weak from seven years of concentration-camp life, renewed an old fight (begun in 1934), to exclude Nazi-collaborating clergymen from the church, suffered two heart attacks at the German Protestant conference at Treysa.

Babe Ruth and Ty Cobb, bringing back memories of baseball's better days, battled it out at Manhattan's Polo Grounds. The plump Sultan of Swat masterminded his Eastern team to victory over the plump Nonpareil's Westerners in Esquire's annual Ail-American Boys' Game.

Gracie Hall Roosevelt, Eleanor's late brother, who once proved — to his own satisfaction — that a man could eat on $1.75 a week, left a $278,264 estate but owed more than $37,000 of it. A tax appraisal showed that his Manhattan creditors included the Hotel St. Regis ($101), Monte Carlo nightclub ($46), suburban Arrowhead Inn ($347).

Playing It Safe
Risë Stevens, Metropolitan Opera mezzo-soprano now slumming in Hollywood (Going My Way, Time to Love), had her voice insured for $1 million by Lloyd's. Premium: $10,000 a year.

Max Schmeling, who had been seized with an idea for "re-educating the youth of Germany," was told by the British Control Commission to save his strength. The one-time fighter and wartime Nazi propaganda stooge has an interest in a book-publishing firm; the commission refused the firm a publishing license.

Mme. Suzy, veteran Parisian milliner, brought her first batch of Paris hats to Manhattan since 1941, kept them temporarily under wraps, but did her best to describe them for reporters: "Hats, just hats . . . not large or heavy, but, on the other hand, not small. . . ."

Matters of Moment
The Rt. Hon. Alfred Duff Cooper, impeccable British Ambassador to France, gave a peccant Riviera innkeeper a nice demonstration of the retort diplomatic. The Ambassador, his Lady, and a motoring party of six friends lunched at the inn, got a bill for 16,000 francs (about $320). The Ambassador wrote his name on the bill, tucked it in an envelope addressed to the regional authority on price control, and called the headwaiter. "Would you be so kind as to send this," he murmured, arose, and departed.

Mohandas K. Gandhi introduced a new marital oath at the wedding of two friends, urged it on all his followers: no begetting of offspring till India wins freedom.

Colonel James Stewart got a movie star's welcome in Manhattan when he returned from two years' Air Forces service overseas. At 37, he still looked boyish, but his hair was greying. "I don't care what color it gets," he said, "as long as it stays in." He planned to go right back to cinemacting—in "anything except a war picture." Asked whether he preferred British or American girls, Jimmy looked pained. Said he: "I don't consider myself qualified to say."

Raymond B. Fosdick, president of the Rockefeller Foundation, issued a hurry-up appeal to the world to unite for self-protection against the atomic bomb. Writing in the New York Times Magazine, he observed that "brotherhood ... has suddenly become a condition of survival," guessed that if the late Wendell Willkie were titling his best-seller today he would make it: One World or NONE.

09 September 1945

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 513 % Postmaster, N.Y.

9 September, 1945

Nancy

My dearest sweetheart –

It’s Sunday morning and I shouldn’t be busy, but I am. The boys just love to drift in with all sorts of complaints and at all hours. If we were in the States and the boys were getting their weekends off for going home – there wouldn’t be one man on sick-call. But that’s the Army and you just can’t change it.

Yesterday a.m. I went to Services and enjoyed it very much. In the p.m. we did absolutely nothing – and that includes evening, too. There wasn’t even a decent movie to visit and somehow or other we couldn’t manage to whip up a Bridge game. In all – it was a very very dull Saturday evening. Today is dark and murky. If it clears up – I may be able to play some tennis. If not – I don’t know what I’ll do. It really doesn’t matter, either, darling. Like everyone else – I’m just marking time and wondering when my time will come. There’s a new scheme, a new plan, a new recommendation by a Congressman – every time you turn on the radio. If they’d all shut up and just let the Army alone – we’d get home in better time. I wish I could give you a definite date, sweetheart, but we or I just haven’t got any. They say all will be out of here by the first of the year except the 400,000 occupation troops and 300,000 service troops. I can’t for the life of me see how I’ll be a part of those 700,000 soldiers and so I should be among those out of here by the first of the year. So let’s put January as the deadline – and anything short of that – just plain gravy, dear. I’d love nothing better than to be able to write you that letter which tells you to stop writing – I’m on my way. I’ll get as much a kick out of it as you, I’m sure.

I got two letters from you yesterday and a letter from Sgt. Freeman. [See post for 01 September 1945.] He’s still in the hospital in Penn. – and I can’t help but admire his spirit. Not once has he bitched or complained – and yet I know pretty well how he must feel.

One of your letters was rather old – 22 August. You mentioned Sylvia B. – and Phil and the problem of the proper up-bringing of Sylvia. I’m not sure I understand the entire problem – but Florence used to allude to Sylvia in a very trying tone – occasionally. I gather that it isn’t a perfect set-up – and I’m sorry, because this is an important and impressionable age.

Your other letter was written in Rutland, Vt. and I enjoyed that a lot. You were certainly in good spirits – despite car trouble – and I do hope that was the last of it you had. The big kick I got was because I knew the Hotel you were referring to. I never stayed there – but I waited for a fellow one day in the lobby. I was in Rutland and all thru the Green and Berkshire Mountains one summer a long way back. It was before I started interning and a friend of mine – he was doing research in Biology at Mass. State – and I took a couple of weeks and toured New England and part of New York (Saratoga Springs.) It’s lovely country – but then, you know.

But aside from all that – I love you darling and I’m just filling in words and time – until I can hold you in my arms and tell you how much a part of me you’ve become. It’s unbelievable almost – considering how much of my life I’ve lived alone – more or less independent of others. And now I’m always thinking in terms of the two of us – and frankly, I like that so very much better. Just let me get back – that’s all I ask.

And for now, I’ll have to close, sweetheart. I hope all is well with you at home. Love to the folks and Grammy B.

And all my deepest love to you –

Greg

* TIDBIT *

about Grace Murray Hopper and the First Computer Bug


Rear Admiral Grace Murray Hopper

Grace Murray Hopper was born in New York City on 9 December 1906. She graduated with a BA in Mathematics from Vassar College in 1928, followed by an MA in Math and Physics from Yale University in 1930 and a PhD in Math from Yale in 1934. From Citizendium comes this:

Grace was a pioneering computer scientist and a Rear Admiral in the United States Navy. In the technical area, she is best known for the development of COBOL and other programming languages. While working for UNIVAC, she is credited with leading the development of the first English-like programming language, FLOW-MATIC. It was not the first programming language, but the first not using essentially mathematical notation, such as ALGOL or FORTRAN. IBM had put the FORTRAN scientific language in the public domain, and it became a de facto standard. Business programming, however, was quite another matter. FLOW-MATIC was UNIVAC-proprietary; IBM had its own approach that became snarled in legal matters, and there was a third competitor from the U.S. Air Force. The COBOL project began with the intention of creating an open standard.

Perhaps her best-known contribution to computing was the invention of the compiler, the intermediate program that translates English language instructions into the language of the target computer. She did this, she said, because she was lazy and hoped that “the programmer may return to being a mathematician.” Her work embodied or foreshadowed enormous numbers of developments that are now the bones of digital computing: subroutines, formula translation, relative addressing, the linking loader, code optimization, and even symbolic manipulation of the kind embodied in Mathematica and Maple.

Personally, she was admired as a leader, and mentor of creative thinking from high school to the Navy high command. She surrounded herself with reminders about thinking unconventionally. On her office wall was a clock that ran counterclockwise. In the Navy, she was known as "Grand Lady of Software," "Amazing Grace" and "Grandma Cobol". When computer speeds broke into the microsecond range, she commanded her staff to "bring her a microsecond." Puzzled, she eventually explained she wanted to see one, and sent them off to cut pieces of wire that were the length that light traveled in one microsecond; she gave these out at her presentations. She climaxed that part of the presentation by having a strong member of her staff stumble onto the stage, carrying a large, heavy reel of wire: the distance light traveled in a millisecond.

Grace began working on computers by chance, at the Bureau of Ordnance Computation Project at Harvard. One of the crucial spurs to growth in computers came from the attempt to understand the flight path of artillery shells. The mathematics of such computations is complex, requiring the services of a machine called the Harvard Mark I, which some have called the first fully functional digital computing device. The Mark I contained not just 500 miles of electrical wire, but a whopping 750,000 parts, all of which Grace Hopper used to crank out ballistic tables for the Navy's weaponry. Leaving active duty after the war's end, Dr. Hopper was a member of the Harvard University faculty and, from 1949, was employed in private industry.

On 9 September 1945 Grace carefully documented the first "Official Bug" while working on the Harvard Mark II relay-based computer. This is what was written:

Moth found trapped between points at Relay # 70, Panel F, of the Mark II Aiken Relay Calculator while it was being tested at Harvard University, 9 September 1945. The operators affixed the moth to the computer log, with the entry: "First actual case of bug being found". They put out the word that they had "debugged" the machine, thus introducing the term "debugging a computer program".

In 1988, the log, with the moth still taped by the entry, was placed in the Naval Surface Warfare Center Computer Museum at Dahlgren, Virginia.

First Computer "Bug"

It's an oft-repeated tale, but according to Computerworld, "it's got more bugs in it than Relay 70 probably ever had."

For one thing, Harvard's Mark II came online in summer of 1947, two years after the date attributed to this story. For another thing, you don't use a line like "First actual case of bug being found" if the term bug isn't already in common use. The comment doesn't make sense in that context, except as an example of engineer humour. And although Grace Hopper often talked about the moth in the relay, she did not make the discovery or the log entry.

The core facts of the story are true - including the date of 9 September and time of 15:45 hours - but that's not how this meaning of the word bug appeared in the dictionary. Inventors and engineers had been talking about bugs for more than a century before the moth in the relay incident. Even Thomas Edison used the word. Here's an extract of a letter he wrote in 1878 to Theodore Puskas, as cited in The Yale Book of Quotations (2006):

'Bugs' - as such little faults and difficulties are called - show themselves and months of intense watching, study and labour are requisite before commercial success or failure is certainly reached.

Word nerds trace the word bug to an old term for a monster - it's a word that has survived in obscure terms like bugaboo and bugbear and in a mangled form in the word boogeyman. Like gremlins in machinery, system bugs are malicious. Anyone who spends time trying to get all the faults out of a system knows how it feels: after a few hours of debugging, any problems that remain are hellspawn, mocking attempts to get rid of them with a devilish glee.

And that's the real origin of the term "bug." But we think the tale of the moth in the relay is worth retelling anyway.

As for Computerworld's opinion, they seem to have missed two points.

First, it was said in Grace's story that Harvard's Mark II was being tested in 1945. That it did not come "online" until 1947 may be very likely and does not, as Computerworld suggests, make the tale a tall one.

Second, Computerworld contends that "bug" was a term used long before Grace used it. So what? Chances are Grace and her staff had used it before with relation to other faults and difficulties. And although one of her operators affixed the moth to the page claiming it was the first computer "bug" to be found, she may have been the one to first say that "debugging" had been accomplished. No doubt, the humor in the double entendre missed neither her nor her staff. "Engineer humor" indeed!

Grace Hopper remained active in industry and education until her death on 1 January 1992. A Burke-class destroyer of the U.S. Navy, USS Hopper (DDG-70) is named in her honor. This was the first ship since World War II, and only the second in Naval history, to be named for a woman from the Navy’s own ranks.