Trumbull – Dear Baby Snooks (2) – Let’s Get Serious – October 29, 1944

Trumbull House - The Barn

This is the walk Grandpa had to make from the back porch (left) to the barn

Page 2   10/29/44

 

So much for the froth. Now let’s get serious. It occurred to me the other day that for each of you absent boys I have some daily reminder that pleasantly brings you to mind. The days of late have been getting right chilly, so saying goodbye to Aunt Betty, gathering my lunch under my arm, I hasten out to the barn and slide under the Buick wheel. It feels cold to the touch but not for long because soon the heater which Ced not only “gifted” me but installed as well, begins purring and my hymn of Thanksgiving daily floats with the heat waves up toward Anchorage. And, by the way, Ced, the regular arrival of the Alaska Sportsman is enjoyed by all. I noticed in the last issue a mimeograph ad giving the name and address of a concern in Anchorage that does mimeographing. It would be interesting if you got a schedule of prices from them and sent it to me.

But to get back to my Daily Reminders. Quite soon after I hop out of bed I think of Lad and his thoughtfulness in giving me the Remington Rand electric razor. Then after shaving and dressing I make my bed. Do you remember Dan, that two toned woolly brown sweater you once had? Well, the blanket you had in Alaska, which Ced brought back with him and which I use on my bed, is the same two toned Brown and I always think of you as I put this blanket in place. At the office, time and time again during the day as jobs have to be turned out I am reminded of how much I miss Dave, and lastly at night when I come home I usually enjoy a smoke after dinner, and as I reach for a cigar, and see the Brazilian cigar box Dick sent I am of course reminded of my Portuguese son – – yes, there are still three cigars left. I counted them today. And speaking of office work, Dave, Mac says he has someone who has agreed to take over the task of sending out News to Youse again. He says the principal reason it was discontinued was because you went away and he found there was no one who could quite fill your place. Others dillydallied with the idea but you were the only one that went right ahead and did something about it – – few words and plenty of action.

Trumbull House - from the front, showing the steps to the Front door

 

Trumbull House - the driveway and the back of the house

In these pictures, you can’t even see all the windows,

so you can imagine what a job it is in the spring and fall to replace storm windows or screens.

This week has been the busiest I have put in at the office for a long time. A total of some 34,000 letters had to be produced for Governor Baldwin to go to new voters (see sample enclosed) (This letter has been lost sometime over the years) . Of course I worked until late yesterday and so did not have my regular Saturday afternoon at home to try to catch up on the storm window situation. I did get in a few hours this morning and this afternoon, but compared to the amount still to be accomplished the net result was pitifully small.

Carl came home yesterday, having just conveyed a bunch of German prisoners over from France. He says they were either boys or old man, some even 60 and a few badly wounded and all tired of the war and glad to get to America. Carl had to go back again for another assignment yesterday.

Two letters from Dave this week! In the first he says his team consists of 40 men. “I truthfully can’t think of a better bunch of guys to go across with. There are rumors that we will have two more weekends at Crowder. I want you to know that my morale at present is higher than it’s been at any time since I was at home last June. I’m really pepped up over the situation. On my 3-day pass after I left Fort Smith I went to Fayetteville as planned, but, I ran into a little Arkansas lass and that was not planned. Last week I went down to see her again – – she’s really pretty nice and makes good company. Nothing serious in all this, of course, but it gives me something to do with my off time.”

Tomorrow, the conclusion to this letter and on Thursday and Friday, a telegram, a V-mail note, a letter from Marian and Lad and another from Lad alone.

Judy Hardy

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Army Life – A Telegram, A Quick Note and a Letter – December 26, 1943

 

 

Dated – 1943 DEC 26

A D GUION FONE BPT42928=

DANIELS FARM ROAD (TRUMBULL CONN)=

NEWADDRESS 142ND BN OBAM OUTC TEXARKANA TEXAS MARIAN STILL AT STRATFORD  MORE BS MAIL BEST OF EVERYTHING TO ALL=

                        LAD.==

*****************************************

Dear Dad:- As I cabled, I am here in Texas —Co 3019, 142 O.B.A.M. Bn. O.U.T.C. Red River Ord. Depot, Texarkana, Texas. Marian will stay at 1416 Stratford Ave. until I can find a decent place for her here in this section. Things don’t look too good as yet, but I’m hopeful. This place is no where near as nice as L.A. and Anita, but some of the fellows went to Flora, Mississippi which is even worse. Happy New Year to All, and good luck.     Lad

(Little does he know but he and Marian will also end up in Flora, Miss.)

 

*****************************************

                          Marian (Irwin) Guion

Thursday

12/31/43

Dear Dad –

Your Christmas package arrived today, and even though Lad wasn’t here to open it with me, I had loads of fun opening your gifts. Lad’s I will send on to him, along with a few other things that hadn’t arrived when he left.

I love the cookbook! Couldn’t help but laugh when I opened it – I told Lad that he was going to have to be a guinea pig, even though he wasn’t here, so when I make some cookies or cake to send to him, I’ll have to mail a few to you – and I can always blame the post office department if they arrived sort of hard, or any badly mangled condition!

The perfume and powder is lovely, too, in fact, I started using it right away – Thank you so much, Dad.

Received a rather encouraging letter from Lad today – there are some houses available in Texarkana – not too good, he says, but at least they will furnish a roof over our heads, ‘cause if it is at all possible , I intend to join him as fast as I can. Seems as though he’s been gone for years, and nothing I do seems to be much fun anymore. As long as he is in the United States, I want to be with him.

I’ll have to give up my job here, and because it is the kind of a job it is, I am going to have to tell them right away, even tho’ I have no definite word from Lad as to when I can join him. But it will take at least a month to get everything straightened around at the office, and if the National office in New York doesn’t have someone available right away (which is very probable) I am going to have to get everything lined up so that some local person can take over until the new Executive comes. It’s just not the kind of job that you can give two weeks notice and then leave. So I’m starting now to clear the decks for action. I can stay on here in South Pasadena and work in Pasadena or Los Angeles- I know that I can get some sort of a job – and one that I can leave rather hurriedly, and that doesn’t require any contract signing.

You’ve probably heard from Lad by now- the trip to Texarkana wasn’t too bad – one flat tire on the way – and quite a bit of snow the last 500 miles, but he arrived safely. The weather is very cold but the people there have been swell to him, he says. How can they help it? Say I.

Dad, I wonder if you know what a perfectly wonderful son you have raised? I simply can’t put into words all the wonderful things that he means to me. Truthfully, and very humbly, I say that no girl could ever ask for a nicer husband then Lad is. Somehow it seems hard to believe that I could be so very lucky in finding him – thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for doing such a grand job.

And from what I can gather from your letters and the things you do, I can see where he gets a good part of it. I’m not so good at putting what I feel into words, but, very sincerely, I mean every word of it. I hope it won’t be very long before I can really meet all of you in person. I’m looking forward to it so much.

I’m not usually quite so serious, Dad, So I’ll have to close on a lighter note. Lad comments that the country around Texarkana is “very poor and definitely not likable!” He also says that he retracts any mean statements he ever made about California! Gosh sakes! Quite a few people manage to live in Texas so it can’t be too bad – don’t they say that nights on the desert are beautiful and can’t be beaten? Hope I get a chance to find out for myself!

Has Ced gotten home? I mailing a letter to him there in hopes that he’s there by now.

With loads of love and very best wishes for the new year for all of you-

As ever,

Marian

P.S. Enjoyed your Christmas card so much. –

This is the final letter from 1943. In three weeks, I’ll begin letters from 1944.

Tomorrow and Sunday, more Memories of Arla Mary (Peabody) Guion.

Judy Guion

 

The Beginning (57) – Childhood Memories of Trumbull – End of the War For Dave

These are the memories of my Father and his siblings, recorded over several years. When my Uncle Dan passed away, I realized that I had better get started recording the memories of Dan’s siblings before they were also gone. I was able to have two recording sessions with my Father, Lad in California; two with Uncle Ced in New Hampshire, a three-day cruise in our boat with Aunt Biss; one session with Uncle Dave in Stratford, CT and one hand-written session (I forgot my tape recorder going up to the Island in New Hampshire, where Uncle Dick lived) with Uncle Dick. I transcribed them once exactly as they were spoken, again removing the ums, ahs, half sentences started over, etc. I then produced a final copy that was easier to read, but it still needs work getting the chronological order correct. Memories are not recorded with a date stamp. I created 75 binders for family members which include all three translations, pages and pages of photos and memorabilia and the actual recording. Now family members can actually heat their ancestors speaking. It was my first project with all the material my Father saved for me and a true Labor of Love. I hope you enjoy these memories of A Slice of Life at a different time and place.

David Peabody Guion

DAVE – On August 25th, I think, we were all watching a film in a kind of natural amphitheater and one of the guys was from Brooklyn and had a buddy, whowas also from Brooklyn, and I remember this just as if it were yesterday, he came running over – we had gotten some rumors that the Japs were going to quit – and this guy came running over and said, “The signing has been confoimed.”  I never forgot that.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Manila_(1945)

The time between August 25th and September 7th when they signed the Treaty, I left Okinawa and went down to Manila.  Here I am now – the war is over – all I have to do is go home and they are shipping me out in a plane to Manila.  The pilot spent about twenty minutes, maybe, trying to start one engine and I said to myself, “I’m going to die in the ocean and the war is over.”  Anyhow, we got to Manila.  That was quite a sight – buildings where the first floor was completely gone and five or six or seven stories would be on top of it, canted, all kinds of destruction.  If you went to the City Hall and looked up you would see a room with curtains on the windows.  That was MacArthur’s headquarters.  So he had curtains on his windows and the Philipinos were watching dead bodies float down the river.

I would say I was in Manila probably about six months.  It would have been August, September, October, November, December, January, February, March, eight months.  I came home in March 1946.  I got out of the service the day Chiche (Paulette) gave birth to Arla, Danielle, as the case may be. (Dan and Paulette’s daughter was named Danielle Arla Julien Andre Guion but the family always called her Arla.)

I had a friend who had a friend who was MacArthur’s driver, chauffeur, and this guy said that whenever MacArthur went in someplace, he’d always get one of those Oriental houses where there was a porch all the way around the building.  He’d have his staff come up and sit in chairs around the building.  He got up to the first staff member and he would say, “Give me your report.”  It might be a question, it might be a problem, or it might just be a report.  Then he would walk around the whole building, see the whole staff, each giving him these questions.  Then he would get in his car and tell his friends friend, “Drive me”.  They would drive around and pretty soon MacArthur would say, “OK”, let’s go back.”  Then he’d say, “you, — blah, blah, blah. You — blah, blah, blah.”  He went all around the whole building telling each one of his staff members what to do about his problem.  What a brain.  There shouldn’t be enough room in there for an ego, but there was.

Tomorrow, Day Six of Lad’s Voyage to Venezuela. He arrives in Guayra and writes of his experience.

On Sunday, more about My Bradford Ancestors, Caleb Rider and Hannah McFarland.

Judy Guion

 

 

The Beginning (56) – Childhhood Memories of Trumbull – Dave and World War II

 

These are the memories of my Father and his siblings, recorded over several years. When my Uncle Dan passed away, I realized that I had better get started recording the memories of Dan’s siblings before they were also gone. I was able to have two recording sessions with my Father, Lad in California; two with Uncle Ced in New Hampshire, a three-day cruise in our boat with Aunt Biss; one session with Uncle Dave in Stratford, CT and one hand-written session (I forgot my tape recorder going up to the Island in New Hampshire, where Uncle Dick lived) with Uncle Dick. I transcribed them once exactly as they were spoken, again removing the ums, ahs, half sentences started over, etc. I then produced a final copy that was easier to read, but it still needs work getting the chronological order correct. Memories are not recorded with a date stamp. I created 75 binders for family members which include all three translations, pages and pages of photos and memorabilia and the actual recording. Now family members can actually heat their ancestors speaking. It was my first project with all the material my Father saved for me and a true Labor of Love. I hope you enjoy these memories of A Slice of Life at a different time and place.

David Peabody Guion

The Beginning (56) Childhood Memories of Trumbull(56) – Dave and World War II

DAVE – After Missouri, I got shipped out.  So when it was time to leave ….. We were a Company – I can’t get away from radio – we were a company that, when we got overseas, we were supposed to police the other nets (networks), conversations between one company and another or one unit and another.  The guys that were the operators really hated that.  The guys really hate doing that because they felt like they were spying on their fellow soldiers.

For some reason or other they decided to send an advance party so there were twelve of us plus three officers.  We shipped out quickly – very short notice – and went up to Ft. Lewis outside Seattle.  We went from there to Hawaii.  We were on a different ship after we left Hawaii – and we went down across the equator.  I got the full initiation when we crossed the equator.  A tank of water was set up on deck.  You would have water dumped over you again and again until you yelled, “Shellback”.  A Shellback is one who has crossed the equator for the first time.  Now, I’ve always, even to this day, been afraid of the water.  That was an ordeal for me.  After the dunking, you had to run down a long line of Shellback’s that had paddles or rolled towels and they would hit you with them as you went by.  I forgot to say you had nothing on but underpants.  So that was my initiation into being a Shellback after having crossed the equator.

We got down to Ulithi, (https://www.warhistoryonline.com/world-war-ii/hidden-ulithi-naval-base.html) which was a weird sounding name, and they started talking about someplace called Okinawa.  They said, “We are going to Okinawa and we are going to invade Okinawa.”  At dawn they were going to send in a flotilla to the center of the island but the real invasion would be on the other end of the island, further up.  I said to myself, “What kind of outfit would do something as stupid as this?  Why did they think the feint would work?”  I was attached to Army headquarters at this point, at least our company would be when they got there.  What happened was that the feint worked so well that we were supposed to go in, I think it was the third day, we were supposed to land.  We didn’t plan for ten days because the Americans went through so fast that they left us behind.  They couldn’t afford to have us valuable people in Army headquarters get shot.  So, we didn’t get in for some time.  When we were ready to go in, my Sergeant, who was a buddy of mine, came up to me and he said, “Dave, I have a special assignment for you.”  And I said, “What’s that?”  He said, “When we get on land your job is to bunk with and take care of Marvin.”  Now Marvin King was a guy who was so stupid that he wasn’t bright enough even to get a Section 8 and get out.  I can remember whenever we were on the ship and they called out the anchor detail, he would run to the side and start throwing up.  We hadn’t even moved yet, and he was already seasick.  My job was to take care of him.  When we got to Okinawa, finally landed, we dug ourselves a little two-man foxhole.  I was bunking with Marvin.  My job at that point was to go and get water and the mail – ho, ho, ho … There was no mail – and bring it back to the company.  Now some time had gone by and Marvin and I were in close quarters.  Needless to say there was not a lot of friendship between the two of us.  So anyway, one night, near dawn, a plane came over and obviously was hit.  It was a Japanese plane, he was hit and so he was jettisoning his bombs which were small 25-pound anti-personnel bombs.  One guy didn’t believe in being in a foxhole, so he was in a hammock.  When he woke up in the morning, he looked up, put his hat on and realized that half of the visor was gone.  So, needless to say, he decided he was going to sleep in a foxhole.  That morning, when I went to get water, I went alone.  I usually went alone.  When I came back the hole that we had dug was now two levels – one level where I was and one deeper level where Marvin was.  It was very, very easy to dig, like clay, no stones like we get in Connecticut, so it was easy to dig out but he wasn’t about to dig me a place, I was one level above him.

Tomorrow, I will finish the week with one more post of The Beginning, Childhood Memories of Trumbull.

Judy Guion

Trumbull – The Beginning (55) – Childhood Memories of Trumbull – The Guion Boys at War

These are the memories of my Father and his siblings, recorded over several years. When my Uncle Dan passed away, I realized that I had better get started recording the memories of Dan’s siblings before they were also gone. I was able to have two recording sessions with my Father, Lad in California; two with Uncle Ced in New Hampshire, a three-day cruise in our boat with Aunt Biss; one session with Uncle Dave in Stratford, CT and one hand-written session (I forgot my tape recorder going up to the Island in New Hampshire, where Uncle Dick lived) with Uncle Dick. I transcribed them once exactly as they were spoken, again removing the ums, ahs, half sentences started over, etc. I then produced a final copy that was easier to read, but it still needs work getting the chronological order correct. Memories are not recorded with a date stamp. I created 75 binders for family members which include all three translations, pages and pages of photos and memorabilia and the actual recording. Now family members can actually heat their ancestors speaking. It was my first project with all the material my Father saved for me and a true Labor of Love. I hope you enjoy these memories of A Slice of Life at a different time and place.

Lad in uniform at the Trumbull House on leave

LAD – (During the War) Dan was in France.  He was a surveyor and was coordinating between England and France, I guess helping to make arrangements (before D-Day). Ced was working at Elmendorf Airfield when it was taken over by the military.  He was then employed by the government as a mechanic.  Later on, he was willing to do it, or was crazy enough to do it, but he would take a tractor and an AT Wagon (a little wagon with tracks on it so it stayed on top of the snow) and go out and bring back downed planes.  Sometimes it would take a number of days before he found the plane and was able to bring it back.  Dick, I know very little about.  He went to Brazil and was able to converse with Portuguese civilians.  He spent a couple of years there. I know nothing about Dave except that he was in the Philippines.

David Peabody Guion

DAVE – on December 23 (1944) I was sworn into the Army and on January 16th I went off to Ft. Devin’s to begin my training. One of the deals in the processing up there was a situation where you could sit down and some guy with a typewriter and a form would ask you questions and then type the answers.  Well, one of the questions further down the line was, “What would you like to do while you are in the service?”  I said, “I’d like to get to talk to people.  I’d like this job.”  A few days later – George Knecht (a friend and neighbor from Trumbull) and I went into the service at the same time – a few days later they called me down to processing and said, “We can keep you for, we don’t know how long, it depends on how you orders are written, but we can keep you on this job doing this typing.”  And I said, “Yes.”  I could see some weekends home with my new girlfriend, so that’s fine with me.  A couple of days later George shipped out and went to Europe and slogs through mud and muck during the whole war.

I got home three weekends; it was a pretty nice job at Fort Devens.  Of course at the time I said I’d like to do this job I didn’t realize that it was done by people who were just recruits as I was once.  Anyhow, the guy behind me – there were four of us who were doing this job – was telling me about his brother who was in the Signal Corps in New Jersey.  So I figured that was a good deal.  I’ll joined the Signal Corps and from New Jersey, get home some more weekends.  What I neglected to say is that they told us, “When they ask you this question of what you would like to do, nobody ever reads that.  At this point, we are just filling a quota, but those who work here, we actually do try to put them where they want to be.”  So that’s when I said, “New Jersey.  I’d like to go into the Signal Corps.”  So I went into the Signal Corps.  After I got into the Signal Corps I found out that New Jersey was the advanced training for radar or something and I ended up in Missouri, but at least I was in the Signal Corps.

I was sent to radio school and radio school was – what you had was earphones on your head and there were all these dits and dahhs, dit-dit-dahh-dit, all this business, and you were supposed to write down these letters as they came out.  I found out they were random letters.  I didn’t want to be a radio operator, didn’t want to hear all those dits and dahhs in my head, in my ear.  What I used to do – it’s tough to beat the service, they’ve seen everything – but I managed to get away with this.  I don’t know how, but there was a key that you could send messages, I guess that was advanced training, and I found out that the messages, the letters, came through that key.  So I used to take a little piece of paper and stick it in a spot where it broke the connection and then when the instructor went by I would sit and write any letter that happened to come into my head because they were all random letters.  When he moved on, I would switch papers and write a letter to my girlfriend.  Roundabout that time I got the mumps.  I was in the hospital and when I came back out ….. I guess it was maybe before I went to radio school I got the mumps; I guess that’s what it was.  I remember my finest hour  I begged and pleaded with the officer to let me stay in radio school even though I wanted desperately to get out and he didn’t buy my act so they sent me off to cryptography school.  That was a better deal.  I was encoding and decoding messages and I had to get an FBI clearance and people back home were interviewed, a big fuss made, but at eighteen, how much trouble could I have gotten into in my life.  So I got into Cript School and that’s where I stayed and although I didn’t do a lot of encoding and decoding, I was officially a cryptographer.

For the rest of the week I will be posting more of the recorded Childhood Memories of Trumbull.

Judy Guion

The Beginning (54) – Childhood Memories of Trumbull – Lad and World War II

These are the memories of my Father and his siblings, recorded over several years. When my Uncle Dan passed away, I realized that I had better get started recording the memories of Dan’s siblings before they were also gone. I was able to have two recording sessions with my Father, Lad in California; two with Uncle Ced in New Hampshire, a three-day cruise in our boat with Aunt Biss; one session with Uncle Dave in Stratford, CT and one hand-written session (I forgot my tape recorder going up to the Island in New Hampshire, where Uncle Dick lived) with Uncle Dick. I transcribed them once exactly as they were spoken, again removing the ums, ahs, half sentences started over, etc. I then produced a final copy that was easier to read, but it still needs work getting the chronological order correct. Memories are not recorded with a date stamp. I created 75 binders for family members which include all three translations, pages and pages of photos and memorabilia and the actual recording. Now family members can actually heat their ancestors speaking. It was my first project with all the material my Father saved for me and a true Labor of Love. I hope you enjoy these memories of A Slice of Life at a different time and place.

 

LAD – After working in Venezuela for two and a half years, the company required that I take two months off and go to a temperate climate.  They didn’t care where, just that I had to be out of the tropical climate.  So I went home.  Just before the ship landed in New York City, an announcement came over the PA system that some government employees would be coming on board.  When they arrived, they asked everyone for their passport.  They told me that I wouldn’t get my passport back.  I went to Trumbull and shortly thereafter, got my conscription notice, classifying me 1-A.  Because of my draft status, I had trouble finding a job.  I figured that if I signed up, then I could pick which branch of the service I went into.  I went to New York City and tried to get into the Navy and the Air Force but I was rejected because of my eyesight.  I was finally able to get a job at the Producto Machine Company (in Bridgeport).  They made machines and dyes.  It was a fairly nice plant, it was considered pretty good equipment.  In December, the Japanese bombed Perl Harbor and shortly after I got a notice to report for duty.  I was able to get a deferment because of my job but by April, 1942, I had been reclassified 1-A.  I received a notice to report for duty in May. Two days later I got a letter from the Navy saying they had lowered their eyesight requirements and I was now eligible.  I tried to talk the Army out of it, but was unsuccessful.  So I went into the Army.

Dan and I were both in France in 1945.  I had been corresponding with Dan and I knew he was going to be married on a particular day in mid-summer.  I talked my Captain into a three-day pass but it was limited to Paris.  That was as far as I should go.  So I went to Paris and checked into the Hospitality Hotel.  I left my duffel bag there and put a little sack in my pocket with a toothbrush and that’s about it, I guess, maybe a comb too.  I decided to try to get to Calais (where Dan was to be married).  I didn’t know how far it was, maybe fifty or sixty miles from Paris, north of Paris, up on the coast.  I got a ticket on a train and the train went about five or six miles per hour for about ten or fifteen minutes, then it stopped.  It stood there for a long, long time, then it went a little further and it stopped again.  I was noticing that cars kept going by so I got off the train and hitchhiked.  I beat the train by a day.  I didn’t have much trouble hitchhiking.  An English soldier came along on a motorbike and asked me where I wanted to go.  I told him Calais.  He said, “That’s not far.  I’ll take you up there.”  So that’s how I made the last two-thirds of the trip to Calais.  I had no trouble finding the house; it was Chiche’s mother’s house, her mother and father’s house.  He was a pharmacist.  It was fairly late in the afternoon when I got there.  I stayed the night and the wedding was the next day.  As I recall, they were expecting me when I got there.  The third day, my pass was up but I didn’t hurry to get back.  I went back to Paris on the train, and this time, it went pretty well.  I grabbed all of my equipment out of the Hospitality Hotel and checked out.  I took the usual bus to go from Paris to Marseilles, but by this time, I was one day over my pass.  When I got back to camp there was nothing there, just damaged grass and fields.  Everything was gone!  I finally found an officer who was walking around and asked him what had happened.  He said that everybody had shipped out, Saturday, I guess it was, or Sunday.  I told him my name and he said, “Oh, yeah.  They tried to get a hold of you but the Hotel said they couldn’t find you.”  So he told me where to go and what to do.  I went to the location he told me about and they knew all about me.  There was another fellow there, Bob Mark.  I was with the 3019th and he was with the 3020th.  He had been left behind to gather all the equipment.  I said, “That’s what I’m supposed to do.”  So, Bob and I got together and found our equipment, we both belonged to the hundred and forty-ninth Battalion.  We got all the equipment rounded up, got it to the dock and finally were able to get a ship that would take it to Okinawa.  I think it took us close to a week to get everything ready and get aboard.  We started out but when we were about two hundred miles from the Panama Canal, the word on the PA system was that the US had dropped a bomb on Hiroshima.  We got the message in the afternoon, and the next morning the ship turned around, went back out to the Atlantic and up the coast to New York.

After I returned to New York I was stationed at Fort Dix.  I don’t know how many months, a couple or three months.  They didn’t know what to do with me.  I went home every weekend and came back on Monday.  Finally they said to me, “We don’t know what to do with you so you might as well go home and get discharged.”  So that’s what finally happened.

For the rest of the week I’ll be posting more Childhood Memories of Trumbull.

Judy Guion

Army Life – Marian Writes to Grandpa From Jackson, Mississippi – September 23, 1944

 

????????????????????????????????????????Friday

Dear Dad —

The week is practically over and it suddenly occurred to me that we haven’t written to you as yet, so if this violent stationary of mine doesn’t put your eyes out, I’ll try to acquaint you with our latest happenings.

Which really aren’t very many. Things go on just about as usual – swing shift still in session. Lad’s working quite hard – he’s the only one of the instructors, I believe, who has classes right straight through until 1230. The others get off early two or three nights in the week. Consequently, it’s pretty tiring.

The photograph that I mentioned sending to you hasn’t gotten in the mail yet! Were awfully sorry, but there seems to be a shortage of boxes and cardboard around here, so that we are having difficulty trying to find something to wrap it in. But will get it to you eventually.

The hot weather is with us again, and believe me it is rather hard to take – it is so darned unpleasant being so “sticky” all of the time, and when the nights don’t cool off it’s hard to get decent sleep. Our only consolation is that the hot spells don’t seem to last very long.

If you have the opportunity, may we recommend Bing Crosby’s latest picture, “Going My Way”,    ( http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0036872/  ) as a definitely “must see” for me. I think Aunt Betty would enjoy it, too, as well as Jean, for to our way of thinking, it is the best picture we have seen this year. The title is a little confusing, and it is hard to imagine Bing Crosby in the role of a priest, but he and Barry Fitzgerald do an exceptionally fine job in the picture. I saw it twice, and would thoroughly enjoy seeing it again. Perhaps you’ve seen it already. If so, I hope you enjoyed it as much as we did.

Incidentally Dad, we thought your last letter (Dated September 10th) was a “top – notcher” – particularly Dave’s reminiscent contribution. And to think it came from an ancient 18-year-old! You must feel exceedingly proud, Dad, when you receive such letters, and what satisfaction you must have, knowing that you were in a large part responsible for such perfectly grand results as five wonderful sons and an equally fine daughter.

Pleasant surprise! Lad just came home early (Wonder of wonders) and he is hungry, so I’d better get busy and fix him something to eat.

Lad brought your latest letter with him, tonight. The news of the hurricane was not too good, to say the least. It’s a shame about all those lovely treats. We hope that the house, however, is none the worse for wear.

Lad says to tell you he is going to follow through on Uncle Ted’s suggestion. We’ll keep our fingers crossed. It sounds wonderful as far as we are concerned – hope Uncle Sam feels the same way.

Love to all – Lad & Marian

Tomorrow another post Voyage to Venezuela, Day Five on the Santa Rosa. On Sunday, more of My Ancestors. This one will be about Elisha Bradford and his wives, Hannah Cole and Barsheba Brock (or Bathsheba LaBrocke). 

Judy Guion