!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
"Greatest Generation" Life Lessons 