Trumbull – Dear Son (4) – Grandpa’s Local News And Some Advice – January 14, 1945
Marian (Irwin) Guion (Mrs. Lad)
Jean (Mortensen) Guion (Mrs. Dick)
There is a report that Ray Wang has been wounded although not seriously. Catherine Warden (who had been renting the apartment with her husband, Paul Warden, until he was drafted) is preparing to leave here somewhere around the first of the month for Oklahoma where Paul will be stationed for quite a while). I don’t expect there will be much difficulty in finding a new renter but it will leave us seriously handicapped regarding the laundry problem, which she has been doing for us every week on her washing machine. Jean and Marian are willing to tackle the job after I get our washing machine put in order (Ced fixed the electric ironer when he was home a year ago). I figured however, that with them both working all day, five days a week, they might not have the time, so I took our wash down to Crawford Laundry which used to do it and was told that, as a special favor to me, they would take it this week, but only the de-luxe expensive service was available, that they were not taking on any new customers in fairness to their old steady customers and that in any event, they could not promise the return of any wash inside of a month. That, coupled with the fact that it is impossible to buy any sheets (they had to call the police at a recent sheet sale at Read’s, one of the officials at the store was knocked down in the scramble and two women tore a sheet in half, each grabbing one end and claiming it was hers), sort of settles the matter for us. Either we wash our own stuff or go without, or wear dirty clothes. Reminds me of my cousin Dud’s (Dudley Duryee, childhood friend of Grandpa’s)test to determine whether his socks were dirty enough to go to the laundry. he threw them against the wall, and if they stuck, they were.
It’s been snowing here all afternoon, in spite of which fact, two young things journeyed up here in the bus to get married this afternoon, reminding me of another 14th only a month later, when I performed another marriage ceremony (referring to Dick and Jean’s marriage on February 14th, 1943) here in the house and then the groom shortly thereafter ran away to Brazil, and, personally speaking, hasn’t been heard from since, – – well, hardly ever.
I spoke forniest (? not my typo) in this letter, about your possibly inheriting some of your parents characteristics. There is one thing you did not inherit from me and that is a, what for the lack of a better term, I shall call “money sense”. I suppose it is largely my fault that most of you are not more thrifty. When you were born, I started for each of you a bank account but fell down somewhere along the line in inculcating the idea of saving for the rainy day that invariably comes with the change in life’s weather. Later, this fund was transferred (small as it was) to the Home Building & Loan here in Bridgeport, and none of you have added a cent to it, as far as I know, since that time. In Ced’s case I suppose the atmosphere of Anchorage makes it particularly difficult to develop the habit of laying by for future needs. I religiously saved for him the money he sent home from time to time, thinking he was paying me back for some fancied debt he owed me, and then when he came home last year, he spent it out of his generous heart. He gets a bonus from Woodley’s and immediately thinks about buying Christmas gifts in spite of the expense of fixing up his car. If you boys can’t save something from the small amount you are being paid, just for the mental discipline and good habit formation, then bolster your good intentions by sending me something REGULARLY to put aside for you. I speak out of the experience and observation of sixty years and know someday you are going to thank me for it, if you heed these words now, and it will make me face your future more confidently also. This is not something you married ones can push off onto your spouses. It’s your job. Sorry to end on so somber a note.
DAD
Trumbull – Dear Son (3) – News From Missouri And Southern France – January 14, 1945
David Peabody Guion (home on leave, December, 1944)
From Signalman Dave a “5 Jan. 45” letter says: “Naturally I just couldn’t break off at home and come back to camp without leaving a little something behind me to remind you all of the four days I spent with you, but now I find I must have the very article that I left at home. It seems that the G.I. procedure is that every soldier wears what is known commonly as dog tags. So if one of you good souls would be so kind as to locate the missing articles and send them to the address here before they Court Martial me, I sure would appreciate it.
My furlough ended Monday at midnight. The Jeffersonian was only eight hours late, forcing me to miss TWO connections out of St. Louis. Naturally I was slightly AWOL!! – – Only 12 hours late coming in. But in the eyes of the C.O. our reason was a good one (there were three of us on the Jeffersonian). It seems that all of the trains were late and most of the boys were AWOL for a few hours. Some even came later than I did. This week I’m working from 12 midnight until eight in the morning in the code room at shantytown (tar paper barracks in camp now being used as operations buildings). I “sleep” in my own bed during the day. Either Sunday or Monday we go into the field for a week’s training. Don’t be surprised if by the end of the end of next week I’m writing from the hospital.”
Alfred Peabody Guion (Lad) in Southern France
Through courtesy of the recipient we are privileged to hear now a few words from Ordnance in Southern France:
“Things are getting better here. The sun shone almost all day and practically dried out the high spots. We got a stove for our room, so I keep fairly comfortable. There were eight of us in this room, about the size of half of our kitchen and there are four double-decker beds made of unfinished wood with 6” to 8” slats spaced about an inch apart. A mattress filled with straw which, believe it or not, is fairly comfortable. On December 13 he writes “All of us are sitting around here in our warm room with a bottle of beer. We all feel better tonight since we got paid. Due to rationing of practically everything in the PX, a maximum of that 80 francs ($1.60) per week is about all you can spend. Every cent we had, excluding good luck pieces, had to be changed to francs and we are paid in francs as it is a military offense to have American money on your person here. For easy calculating one franc is worth approximately two cents but it is still a little funny to try to buy something.”
He is now very happy to be working on the diesel electric plant and is now on the night shift. He is also trying to get in touch with Dan and if there is any way of the latter letting him know where he is, by all means set the wheels in motion. On December 22nd: “A few of the boys went out the other day and brought back a big Christmas tree which has been decorated by a bunch of very ingenious men using practically nothing but discarded paper, tinfoil from cigarette packages, and by hanging evergreen bows from wire strung around the room, the day room has been quite nicely fixed up. We expect to have a company party there this week.”
Tomorrow, the conclusion of this letter with local news of family and friends.
Judy Guion
Trumbull – Dear Son (2) – News From Ced In Alaska – January 14, 1945
Cedric Duryee Guion
Ced, from up near the Arctic Circle, reports on December 29 as follows:
The Buick is again performing its long neglected duties and does pretty well at it. There are a few bugs to be chased out of it yet and the way it looks, I may have to take up on the bearings a little later on, but I think I’ll wait until warmer weather. It seems that somehow or other, either from incorrect fitting or by misuse in some way, one of the rods loosened up a tiny bit in the first 100 miles. I didn’t drive fast but I had the spark set a little late and it tended to overheat a little. That, added to the fact that we had nearly 2 feet of snow at just the time I started running it, made the going very tough for a new engine. There is nothing serious at all about it but it was very disappointing after doing the job so thoroughly. It still lacks 285 miles of being run in. I installed the Stuart Warner heater which I bought from Carl and it really is swell on these cold days.
We have had a couple of extremely cold snaps down to 25 below on a couple of days, but for two weeks preceding yesterday, weather and temperature have been extremely and unusually kind to the Arctic dwellers. For some time now the frost peculiar to this section has been building up each night and gradually, completely shrouding all that is exposed to the elements in a gorgeous a blanket of lacy white. Right now when the sun comes out to peek briefly at Anchorage in its hurried course across the southern section of sky, I am privileged to look upon what I believe to be the most beautiful formations of this frost which I have seen in my four odd years up here. Everything, however ugly in the nude, is now resplendent in its new white drapings. Later however, the wind came up and blew most of the frost away. Christmas Eve I spent at the Morgan’s open house and at the Church, singing a Christmas concert with the Presbyterian choir. Christmas dinner was at Jerry Keene’s. The shortest day of the year has finally come and gone and now the days are lengthening again, although I haven’t noticed it as yet. I figured on calling you on the phone from here on Christmas day, around five a.m., catching you at ten, but found there was no openings until Thursday, and again New Year’s Day with the same report. At the night rate of $20 for five minutes and four or five dollars more on day, I decided it wasn’t worth it unless I could get the right time.
Tomorrow, I will post the next section of this letter and continue it throughout the week.
Judy Guion
Trumbull – Dear Son (1) – A Christmas Poem From Dan – January 14, 1945
!945 has just begun and Grandpa has heard from four of his five sons – quite an improvement over last week.
Trumbull, Conn., January 14, 1945
Dear Son:
Table of Contents:
A Christmas Poem…Dan Guion
Alaskan Diary…Ced Guion
Report From So. France…Lad Guion
30 Seconds Over Camp Crowder…Dave Guion
Odds and Ends…by the Editor
Daniel Beck Guion
It is a blessing that you boys have acquired a sense of humor, or maybe, and I say it in all humility, you have inherited a bit from your parents. Anyway, amid the stress and storm of war and amid all the hardships of life at the front, lodged in abandoned German block houses, etc., it is mighty reassuring to know that you can see the funny side, as witness the following in a V-mail written on December 24th by Dan. It reminds me of a reply an old darkey, who in spite of having his share of life’s troubles, always remained cheerful, once made when asked how he managed to remain so cheerful and calm, “Well, ah’l tell yo’”, said Uncle Joe, “Ah’s jist learned to cooperate wid de inevitable”. Now for Dan’s contribution:
‘Twas the day before Christmas when all through the house
All the world was astir here, especially a mouse
And the flea bitten bastard with rodent-like gall
Dragged a bar of my chocolate out into the hall
And there in a corner with indecent haste
The candy became gastronomical paste
He was heard to remark as he slunk toward his nest
“Merry Christmas to all, and to you, boy, T.S.”
All of which is by way of meaning that, although Christmas is Christmas, it is not always possible to spend it as we wish – – because of the rats and lesser mice and sech like. However, (I said it last year and I’ll say it again) Next Christmas things will be different. Dan.
Tomorrow, Thursday and Friday, the rest of the letter.
Judy Guion
Trumbull – DEAR A S F (American Setrvice Field – News From Dick And Lad – January 7, 1945
Yesterday’s letter wrapped up 1944 and as 1945 begins, I’m sure Grandpa is praying fervently that this war will come to a conclusion and by Christmas of 1945, his boys will be home for good.
As 1945 begins, I’m sure Grandpa is praying fervently that this war will come to a conclusion and by Christmas of 1945, his boys will be home for good.
The Summer Porch at the Trumbull House
Trumbull, Conn., January 7, 1945.
Dear Members of the A S F: (American Service Force, of course, to all of you except Ced, who rates his own designation, as Art’s Stationery Flyer , possibly Anchorage’s Sinister Firebug, Alaska’s Skeeing Favorite, or it might even be Anyone’s Steadfast Friend – – write your own.
Well, here it is with 1945 one week old, the Christmas tree and decorations have been laid away in camphor balls, winter has returned with a steady snowfall, income tax is drawing near and we’re not yet in Berlin.
News this week is conspicuous by its absence on the Trumbull home front. About the only item of note is that Paul (Warden, who lived in the apartment with his wife and children) has definitely received his appointment permanently locating him in Oklahoma for the duration and has sent for Catherine and the children. She has already sold her car, but as he was not able to find living accommodations there until February 1st, they are planning to stay here throughout this month. Catherine prefers to leave her furniture here, so that I may rent the apartment furnished. She is taking her washing machine and sewing machine along with her, but at present she feels she would like to come back to Trumbull when things again come back to normal.
Marian (Mrs. Lad) and Jean (Mrs. Dick)
Both Marian and Jean have heard from their respective lords and masters, but the old man, being only a father, has not heard from any of his tribe this week. I suppose Dave got back to camp safely and that Ced is still percolating as usual, but those assumptions are but due to my vivid imagination. Special message to the Benedict’s of the family: isn’t there some he-man information you can write about once in a while to your paternal ancestor.
Of course I know your first obligation is to your wife but I figured once in every few months I might rate a few lines. Not that I would have you do so from a sense of duty, but merely on the basis that being still a member of the family, your other brothers and sister would enjoy hearing from you just as you, I hope, enjoy hearing from them through the medium of Trumbull headquarters, and this quite understandably is not possible in the letters you sent to your wives and sweethearts (one and the same thing, of course), because the letters they get from you are the one slender thread that unites you and they assume an importance and practically a sanctity which is not to be commercialized and spread, broadcast, for all eyes to see. I can quite appreciate this feeling and you will too, if you ponder it a moment and try to view it from the feminine viewpoint. The net consequence is that, while verbal comments of interesting news is passed on, it is not the same as having something down in black and white before one to quote in these weekly blurbs of mine. Save the love and kisses for your sweeties but get expansive once in a while and include the whole family in on your broadcasts. Lad, for instance, writes Marian, if we can read behind the few deleted words of the censor has destroyed, that he is evidently located on some old French castle and that Lad has something to do with running the diesels which supply the juice, enough at least to run his electric razor. The walls of the edifice in which they live our thick and their quarters are cold and damp. Jean reports that, for Dick, the rainy season has started and for about three months it will continue to rain harder each day and then will taper off again for another three months. Right now it is oppressively hot where he is.
Marian is “doing her bit” for the war and starts working tomorrow for Sikorsky, something to do with helicopters. We’ll know more about it later. And that’s about all right now. Meantime, keep your chin up.
DAD
Tomorrow,, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday, I’ll be posting another letter from Grandpa to his five sons away from home.
Judy Guion
Ada Jean (Mortensen) Guion Photo Album – 1920 – 2000
Mary Ellum Wilson’s photo Album has inspired me to create a Photo Album for Grandpa, Grandma, and their six children and their spouses. I will be posting them for the next seven weekends. I will also endeavor to get more pictures from family members of those individuals with only a few pictures.
The earliest picture of Jean with Dick and Dave just after a Blizzard at the Trumbull House front yard. This picture was taken before they were married.
Ada Jean (Mortensen) Guion at the Trumbull House after her marriage to Dick, 1943
Jean, Aunt Betty and Grandpa, pointing in the general direction of Ced in Anchorage, Alaska
Marian (Mrs. Lad) and Jean (Mrs. Dick), Christmas 1944, living in Trumbull and waiting for their husbands to come home
Jean in 1945
Dick and Jean in 1947
Tomorrow I will begin posting letters written in 1944. All five of Grandpa;s sons are in the service of Uncle Sam.
Judy Guion
Richard Peabody Guion Photo Album – 1920 – 2000
Mary Ellum Wilson’s photo Album has inspired me to create a Photo Album for Grandpa, Grandma, and their six children and their spouses. I will be posting them for the next seven weekends. I will also endeavor to get more pictures from family members of those individuals with only a few pictures.
Arla Mary Peabody Guion with her first five children – Dan, Lad, Ced, Dick and Biss
Dick in 1928
Dick in 1938
Dick as an older teenage
Dick, after enlisting in the Army in 1943
Dick and Jean after Dick had been discharges in 1945
Dick and Jean, Christmas, 1947
Dick and Jean with their two daughters and two granddaughters
Tomorrow, the Ada Jean (Mortensen) Guion Photo Album.
Judy Guion
Army Life – Dear Dad – An Apartment And Christmas Gifts – December 7, 1943
Alfred Peabody Guion (Lad) and Marian (Irwin) Guion
Monday (Dec 7, ’43, in Grandpa’s writing))Dear Dad –
Lad is still busy monogramming every article of G.I. clothing he possesses with G-2058 – even his sox – and I finished wrapping some of our Christmas gifts, so I can think of no better time to write you and relate the latest happenings of the very happy A. P. Guion’s of California.
First and foremost – we have finally located a place to hang our hats. Hallelujah! This business of vagabonding in the Buick has been fun, but it’s going to be wonderful having our own place. It is in South Pasadena – a living room, bedroom, kitchen and bath over a garage, completely furnished – only four years old and sounds very nice. I haven’t seen it yet, but we’re moving in this coming weekend, we hope! I’ll believe it when we are actually in, and not before. The new address is 1416 Stratford Ave., South Pasadena. I hope it will be fairly permanent. Seems to me that you had quite a time wondering just where to send your letters. Hope you won’t have to think about any other address for quite a while. We are going to spend next weekend collecting our things from various parts of Southern California and concentrating them in one spot, and it’s going to be wonderful. We are actually looking forward to moving!
Secondly, the photograph of Lad has never arrived. I have inquired twice at this post office, with no positive results. They said the best thing to do would be to start checking from your post office. Perhaps by now it’s come back to you. I hope so.
– About wedding gifts. It’s rather hard to tell you just what to say to Lad’s friends- we don’t want to get too many things so that we will have a hard time moving – and not knowing where we will be after the war makes a difference, too. However, linens of any kind are very acceptable. We haven’t picked out our sterling pattern as yet, and are waiting until after the war to get our dishes – so, that’s out – our Fostoria is the candlewick pattern – we don’t have cake plates or cups and saucers in that – odd pieces of any fairly plain Fostoria would be acceptable. Vases are another thing we could use – does that help?
– We are sending our Christmas package to you this week. Hope it arrives before Christmas. Isn’t very much, but with it comes a heartfelt wish for happiness for all of you and the fervent prayer that next year we can all be together for Christmas. Will certainly be thinking of all of you.
Marian’s parents, Marian (Ryder) and Mowry Addison Irwin, at their Wedding Reception
– Quoting from Mother’s last letter, “I received the nicest letter from Al’s father this week. I hope that we will get a chance to meet him sometime soon, for I know we will like him very much.” She also said how startled she was to have you referred to Al as “Lad” ‘cause three or four times while we were home she started to call him that because it seemed so natural. And she has never known that Lad was his nickname. I’ve never mentioned it in any letter to them. I always referred to him as Al. Strange, isn’t it?
Lad asks me to tell you that, for the record, the pajamas, bathrobe and Christmas box have all arrived safely – and he hereby sends his thanks.
Will write again, soon,
Love to all-
Marian
Lad ads a note:
Lad writes: Thanks for your cooperation. All of the pkgs. have arrived in fine shape. As Marian mentioned, her temporary address will be 1416 Stratford Ave. I think monogram letterhead will be very nice. Something like this: Initials are M I G. More later. Love to all — Lad
Tomorrow, the Richard Peabody Guion Photo Album and on Sunday, the Ada Jean (Mortensen) Guion Photo Album.
Judy Guion
Trumbull – Dear Gang – The Great Guion Mystery – December 5, 1943
Trumbull, Conn., Dec. 5, 1943
Dear Gang:
Cedric Duryee Guion
The Great. Guion Mystery, unsolved to the present moment, is: “Has Ced left Anchorage en route home?” The last word from Alaska, as reported to you in a previous communication, was that our arctic explorer expected to leave for his long trip to Connecticut on December 3rd , and I have been anxiously, almost fearfully, looking for further word that would relieve the tension and let us know that nothing is intervened to prevent his leaving per schedule.
Dave has received notification that he is now class 1-A, and if rumors are to be given credence, he will leave Trumbull January 10th . The last hurdle he has yet to get over is his final physical exam. He is flirting with the idea of asking to join the Navy, probably because several of his buddies here have chosen that branch of the service, but this, I hope, will not happen.
Our guest for dinner today was Harold LaTour whom you older boys may remember. For a while he was salesman for an American concern in South America but is now with the Daily News in New York. He was one of Roger Bachelder’s college friends.
A review of incoming correspondence this week reveals the following:
A card announcing the arrival of Donald Robert Whitney, Jr., on November 25th , weight, 8 pounds ten and a half ounces.
Marian Irwin and Lad Guion
Another nice letter from Marian expressing the expectation of drinking a Thanksgiving toast to the “Guion Clan and the fervent wish that another year will find us all together”. She also reports receiving a congratulatory telegram from Ced bemoaning the fact that he would not be around to tie tin cans to the car. It seems that the newlyweds waited so long before starting away for their home trip that all the guests got tired of waiting for them to leave, and in consequence, they escaped the horseplay that usually accompany affairs of this sort.
A letter from Dan enclosing signed registration certification which makes Dave happy in that he will now have about a month in which to drive around a car of his own (provided he can get it running). After a typical Danielesque description of English weather in lieu of the real news he hints he may write about, were it not for the limitations of censorship, he goes on to say his expected studies at Oxford or Cambridge have not yet materialized. He ends with the words: “Hurrah for Lad. I shall write to her personally.”
It is many weeks now, Dan, since a package of Rum and Maple, Kleenex, shampoo, etc. has been sent to you, but if I can secure anymore of that brand of tobacco (they told me it was not being made anymore and what I got was the last of their stock), I shall get off another shipment with the hope that sooner or later one of them might escape Hitler’s U-boats.
Thank you, Marian, for your welcome letter. I hope next time you or Lad write, you will be able to say that you have found a cozy little house or apartment. I’m going to miss you all here Christmas, but I hope Ced will be here to partly compensate. Jean and Dave anyway will save the day and I expect Bissie and her two hopefuls will be on hand. Jean is a way with her Aunt this week and visiting friends in New Milford.
Aunt Betty, Dave and Smoky all send their best, and as for me, you all know what to expect from DAD
Tomorrow, I will finish the week with another letter from Marian.
Judy Guion
"Greatest Generation" Life Lessons 