This is the second half of a long letter written by Grandpa to his sons and daughters-in-law with news of the family.
In Brazil, actions speak louder than words — anyway they did last week when there arrived addressed to me a most beautiful box of fine Brazilian cigars which I have since been enjoying very much, not only because the cigars themselves are good but because they came from Dick. And when I say “beautiful box” I mean just that. The wood is highly polished, the box well made and is far superior to any packing even the most expensive cigars in the U. S. A. are given. Your gift is truly appreciated, Dick old boy. Incidentally Jean has just received word from Dick that his base has been changed to another location in Brazil. Evidently they spell it Brasil down there.
Cedric Duryee Guion
And now here’s a newsflash just received from Alaska. Ced had made his reservation and was all ready to leave for Anchorage via Texarkana and South Pasadena, when a telegram from Woodley Airways arrived informing Ced he had been reclassified to 1-A, and advising him to defer his return until Art Woodley (Owner of Woodley Airfield and Ced’s employer) could definitely determine whether another deferment could be procured or Ced would have to be inducted. And that is the status quo of things at the present moment.
And now for local news broadcasts (at this point, Dave, I know you usually tune out, which is your privilege now, but you may under the circumstances stay tuned to this station.)
On invitation from the Lee’s, we all went down to Westport for supper Friday, and as usual, had a very pleasant evening. Ced showed some of the Alaskan slides and movies which they enjoyed. Incidentally, Dan, they have relatives living in London whom they thought you might like to visit – Arthur Toft, 40 Chaucer Rd., Herne Hill, London S.E24.
In today’s paper, Barbara’s (Plumb, Dan’s girlfriend) picture appears in the uniform of a WAAC with news that she has received an assignment to serve overseas.
Smoky has been under the weather for the last few days — either he has been
page 4 (oy, what a letter writer I am tonight) 1/16/1944
grieving over your absence, or in your affectionate adieu, you may have put ground glass in his Ken-L-Ration. However, he is improving as evidenced by the lowering temperature of his nose.
I’m getting to be a regular old rake — married three women this week — all divorced, too — on the 10th, 12th and 15th respectively. Grandpa, as the Justice of the Peace, has the honor of performing marriage ceremonies.)
You older boys will be interested to know that in answer to one of my Christmas cards sent to Corrine Flaniken, I received a rather rambling letter from her enclosed in a letter from her sister in Arlington, Texas, stating that Corinne is in a psychopathic Hospital in Colorado Springs. Normal life is much too confusing for her as the slightest responsibility upsets her until she is almost frantic. A letter or card from any of you to her would probably be much appreciated. Address Route 1, Box 47, Colorado Springs, Colo.
And last, a letter from Aunt Anne ((Peabody) Stanley), thanking us for the flowers I sent Grandma, which evidently she appreciated very much. Grandma continues comfortable, and while she sleeps a good deal of the time, she is bright and cheerful when awake. She enjoyed seeing us when we visited her.
Donald, (Stanley, Anne (Peabody) Stanley’s son), she wrote, is in New York and will be for several more days. Gweneth came down from Vermont and they all spent the weekend together. Don looks fine and is still enjoying the sea. (Donald, only a few years older than Dave, in in the Navy.)
And that, dear children, is about all from your Uncle Don this evening, except Dave, I think there is a present for you under the barrack cot, a big juicy paddle that the first Sgt. will be glad to hand you with much verve and spirit if you don’t watch out. And don’t try to make friends with the bugler because he’ll blow reveille just as quick for you as he will for the rest of the boys.
Remember, there is a brand-new folder in the file with your name on it, and the first insertion should be an essay on Army life from a rookies standpoint. I’m sure Dan and Lad and Dick would enjoy reading it and comparing the memory of their experiences with yours.
A glance at my watch tells me this is been one of those regular three hour broadcasts and undoubtedly others are waiting to get on the air: who knows, even Franklin may be waiting to deliver another fireside chat to “my friends”. Anyway, I’m signing off. This is station ADG, 7 on your dial. (A reference to the mailing address, PO Box 7, Trumbull)
Tomorrow and Sunday, more of Elizabeth’s St. Petersburg (Florida) Adventure.