Trumbull – Dear Lone One (2) – Maybe I Didn’t Raise My Boy To Be A Soldier – December, 1941

Page 2 of 12/7/41

If you haven’t written already and told me the answers, let me know if you are going to occupy the room all alone, paying the full rent yourself or are going to share it with someone else to help reduce expenses. Of course we have been speculating here as to whether you, too, would not pull up stakes and head for the East. Dan ventured the thought that if it was lack of funds that prevented you, it would be a simple matter to sell the car for enough for your fare home. And of course you know that your Dad would consider he had never spent money in a better cause or more willingly than in sending you the wherewithal to make the trip home. Just a cable with the word “Funds” would bring quick results.

Your letter was very interesting even apart from the fact of hearing from you and the news about Dick’s sudden decision. The difficulty of water supplies in a ground frozen country had never occurred to me until your clear explanation of how it was done brought up the subject.

The news in this neck of the woods is sunk into insignificance by the world news. Dan has been considerably worried ever since he has been home regarding his draft status. We have all felt that there has been this thing on his mind, so last week he decided to find out where he stood, having received a few days previously notification to proceed to Hartford for a physical examination. He phoned to the Draft Board and was told that the Alaska Board, who apparently still has jurisdiction, had refused to grant deferment and that he was slated to be called sometime in January. Of course he passed his physical examination O. K. So, soon after I welcome back into the fold a returnee from Alaska in I lose another. Maybe I didn’t raise my boy to be a soldier, in the words of the old song, but apparently it makes little difference.

Today is our really first cold day – – the first day that we could actually feel winter had arrived. I don’t know that the temperature was so low although before sunup it was below 32°, but there was a strong wind that blew what cold there was around in a rather reckless manner.

Aunt Betty is practically herself again except that she has to take things a little bit easy and has not yet fully recovered the use of her arm. Even this is coming along slowly however.

Oh, I almost forgot. I did order one thing sent to you for Christmas. It was from Sears Roebuck, so if a package arrives from Seattle that you didn’t order just imagine a “Merry Christmas” sign on it from Dad and Aunt Betty.

Good night, old son, and very best wishes, from your old


Tomorrow, one more letter from Grandpa to Ced. With the other boys home, there are no letters to quote but Grandpa continues to let Ced know what is going on in the family.

On Saturday and Sunday, I’ll post more from the Autobiography of Mary E Wilson.

Judy Guion


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