Jean (Mortensen) Guion and Marian (Irwin) Guion
Page 2 7/29/45
Did I mention in last week’s letter that Red Sirene is home? He is. A girl’s farewell party was given to Jean (who is travelling to Brazil to be with her husband, Dick) here Thursday night and from all reports it was a bang-up affair. Marian had the table most attractively decorated with the centerpiece depicting a tropical landscape, palm trees, sandy beach adjoining a pond, thatched hut, a couple of Brazilian natives running around in their birthday clothes, and Brazilian flags as place cards. Automatically, Marian became a member of the home decorating squad along with Ced and Dave. Dan still retains his seat as chairman of the greens committee. Tomorrow night, Mrs. Ives, Ethel and the young folks in the apartment are coming over here for a farewell dinner in Jean’s honor. We’re going to miss that gal, Dick, so don’t linger in your hacienda any longer than is necessary after the Army throws you out.
Just one other anecdote before we get on with the letters from Dave and Ced. Saturday of last week the phone rang. U.S.O. from Bridgeport. A sailor and his girl wanted to get married right away. He had to go back that night. Could the J. P.(Justice of the Peace – Grandpa) issue the license and tie the knot quick. No. The J. P. had no authority to issue licenses. License bureau in Bridgeport closed until Monday. What to do. Only possibility was if Miss Helen Plumb, Town Clerk, living on Church Hill Road, could be located, a license might be issued and marriage performed in Trumbull. They phoned Miss Plumb. She was out but her mother said she would be home soon. They would taxi to her home. Between the taxi man and the U.S.O., they located a Church Hill Road (in Fairfield). Out they went to Fairfield. After some considerable inquiries they found that the Fairfield Town Clerk, had married a second time, to a Mrs. Plumb who had a daughter named Helen, so when they asked at the Town Clerk’s house in Fairfield if a Helen Plumb lived there, the answer was “Yes”. The taxi was dismissed. But Helen Plumb was not the Town Clerk. The Town Clerk was away. Perhaps it was the town clerk in Trumbull named Helen Plumb. It was another taxi to Trumbull. Meantime, the Trumbull Town Clerk had been waiting hours. Meanwhile, the J. P. had just decided to go out for a restaurant supper with Biss and Aunt Betty. Just before the Buick starter purred, up the driveway walked a sailor lugging a suitcase trailed by a girl. They had had enough of taxis and walked down from the Town Clerk’s house. The J. P. went into action on the cement Terrace and they all lived happily ever after, or maybe that’s just a fairytale. All rights copyrighted for plots for plays or movies.
Page 3 7/29/45
Now for the quotes. Both Ced and Dave have written good long letters. They are two interesting to summarize too much yet too long to quote both in full, so I think I shall reserve Ced’s until next week. Dave, after comparing the experiences of Dan and himself and showing their marked similarity goes on to say: “Dan’s description of the V-1’s reminds me of the Japanese Kamakazi (suicide) planes. The effect is the same but as it carries a pilot, it is more accurate. Here’s an account of the first suicide plane I saw. One day I was down at the beach when the air raid sirens blew. “Hit the dirt”. I dove for a concrete wall that stood in front of one of the numerous tombs on the island. I looked up and saw flak mushrooming all around a fly speck in the sky. All of a sudden it started to fall. “They got it” someone yelled, and all the guys started to clap as though the fellow carrying the ball broke through the line and went over for a touchdown. Later we found that the plane hadn’t been hit but instead took a nosedive into a hospital ship. Hospital ships are painted white, have big red crosses on them and look like a Dollar Line steamer.
No other ship looks anything like it out here. No one will ever convince me that the Jap flying that plane was trying to hit any other ship in the harbor, which ship, by the way, was not empty.
I’ll finish up this letter tomorrow.
On Saturday and Sunday, more of Dave’s World War II Army Adventure.