Category Archives: 19. April 1945

April 24, 1945

Here’s another chipper letter from Dot. She just received the letter containing snapshots of Dart taken by the ship’s doctor. She loves them! He looks so tan and healthy. She says that in one of the poses he looks just like his father. “Good looking man – your Pop.”

She reluctantly appreciates the warning that these frequent letters from him will soon stop. Being forewarned will not make it any easier for her to see the mailman come and go with no mail for her. She shudders to think what it would be like to be writing to a man who didn’t like to write back, or wasn’t very good at the art. She’s very spoiled, but so very happy that her fate was to fall for a guy who loves to write and does a good job with it.

Dot asks if he is able to keep the letters that the censor rejects so that after the war, his family can read about what he was doing when he couldn’t write. Maybe he could keep a journal or something, because she’s so eager to hear all about his life at sea.

Did he receive the package she sent him just before Easter? If it arrives later, he should just throw it out. It was a box of cookies, specially wrapped for sending overseas. She’d also included a checker board and some other games. She’s sure the cookies would be inedible by now.

This week Harriet and George took in a 16-year old girl as a foster child. Dot is going to invite her to a movie this weekend as a way of getting to know her “foster niece” better.

“I’ve been looking for some pin-up pictures to send you, but you boys from the Haggard must have gotten all of them. Or aren’t I going to the right source? My opinion of you will drop a whole millionth of a fraction if you could tell me where the best source is.”

She finishes by saying that she’s fallen asleep twice while writing this letter.

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April 25, 1945

When Dot told her mail man that there would soon be a lull in the letters he brings her from her sailor, he surprised her with another one from him. Then he told her that all of the mail carriers in Greenwich were discussing who was the most consistent letter-writer of all the service men sending letters to Greenwich. Dart won by a mile! Now Dot hopes he’s getting as many letters in returned delivered to the ship.

Does Dart really like her whistle, or is he teasing her about wanting to hear it again? “I’m constantly being reminded that ‘whistling girls and cackling hens always come to the same bad ends.'” She knows it’s not very ladylike to whistle like she does, but sometimes it slips out without her thinking. I think Mom’s powerful “wolf whistle” was one of her attributes her three children were the proudest of when we were quite young. All our friends wished their moms could whistle like that.

She met Harriet’s foster daughter today. Her name is Helen Buckley and she’s sweet 16 and quite pretty. Dot invited her to spend the night soon, but Helen hasn’t made up her mind yet. Dot supposes she has lots of her own friends she’d like to spend time with. I’m a little surprised that Harriet has such an old foster child, since she’ll only be 26 herself this week.

Speaking of Harriet’s birthday, Dot says that starting with that celebration, there’s a family birthday every month until February. Then there are anniversaries, showers, weddings, Mother’s and Father’s Days, etc. “Big families are wonderful, but they’re expensive.”

With love and kisses, she signs off. There are no letters from either party tomorrow, so I’ll be back again on the 27th.

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April 27, 1945

While at sea, Dart begins, “Right in the beginning I must tell you that I’m too much in love, to utterly homesick for you, to write a decent letter at all. Perhaps it would be better if I could lay this aside until such a time as I can write a letter which contains a fair share of each wit, news, conversation in general, and love. Now I have no witty sayings, no news to relate, altogether too much longing for you, and a strong desire for real conversation with audible words instead of these stale scribbling on paper.” This paragraph signals a beautiful letter ahead.

He continues, “If I’d done the right thing, I wouldn’t have mentioned your wanting to join the WAVEs in any letters but the ones to you. But I hopelessly bungled my hand and protested as violently to Mother and Dad as I did to you. I protested even more violently to Fred, for he knows I cuss plenty and is not averse to hearing, and lending a sympathetic mind to my frequent profane protestations. He must believe, when he receives my last letter that I’ve completely lost my head. As a matter of fact, I did.”

“I lost it a year and a half ago when I met the most charming and lovely young lady ever to capture the heart of a sailor and his family. I’ve been out of my mind, out of this world over you ever since. Perhaps these events of recent date have brought me back to earth for the first time since then. If so, I find that it’s as easy for one walking on earth, or even in the deep pits of despair and dejection, to be in love, as it is for one whose footsteps are stilled in the deep cottony softness of cloud-like paths.”

“And speaking of walking on clouds, I’ve done another interior sketch of our castle in the sky. Also made dealings for a nice half acre of alto-stratus, near where Cumulus Avenue crosses Nimbus Road. I don’t know yet how to dig foundations in alto-stratus, but maybe we won’t need a basement in our cloud home. (Might need a cloud mower, though.)”

He goes on to tell Dot that he showed his house sketches to more people. There was the shipmate who knows construction and believes it could be built for $8,000. Another guy with some knowledge of the building trade estimates about the same, built, insulated and landscaped. Both these men gave Dart some good pointers and lots of encouragement. One of them sent Dart’s plans to his wife, saying he likes them better than any of the 12 sets they’ve been working on. He told Dart that when they are complete, maybe Dart could get these designs published.

Fired up by such an enthusiastic response to his ideas, he set out to draw the first floor to scale. Starting with the living and dining rooms, and the bedrooms, he worked toward the back of the house. He found the rooms don’t fit. Did Dot ever see a kitchen that was three feet wide? That might work for skinny Dart, but he doubts most people would be comfortable. If she could learn to move about in a kitchen that small, their problem would be solved!

He tells her about engaging in a long-standing Navy tradition on the deck tonight. That’s the tradition of complaining about the Navy. To Dart’s mind, most of the complaints were justified and seemed to follow a theme: Why the heck are we using all these ships to fight over a bunch of insignificant little islands that have nothing we want on them, and for which the US has no use. Even if we win them, we’ll probably just give them back to Japan after the war, anyway. If we’re not fighting over the islands, then it must be the water. Lord knows there’s plenty of that to go around. So, this whole war is senseless and we should all go home. Dart’s take on the subject? “I, personally, don’t even see why we’re fighting over the water. You can’t breathe it, walk on it, or eat it. It’s too salty to drink and to deep to wade in.”

He tells Dot about one of the best books he’s ever read, written by the guy who wrote “Magnificent Obsession” and “Dr. Hudson’s Secret Journal,” Lloyd C. Douglas. It’s called “The Robe,” and he highly recommends it to Dot.

In response to her wish that he had made a recording of his voice before leaving the Sates, he tells her that he was often tempted, but the lines were always too long. Anyway, he would have been so nervous that his voice would have sounded unnatural. “It’s very much natural for me to be saying sweet things to you, though.  I’m glad I saved ’em all for you, Darling. I felt as if I’d been saying them to you all my life and I want to keep them, just for you, for the rest of it.”

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Dot explains that she didn’t write last night because she was in a terrible mood and didn’t want her letter to reflect that. Then today, she got a wonderful letter from Dart, and her mood has greatly improved. Even better, she was assigned to the packing room at work, so she has time to answer that letter while she works.

Now it’s her turn to recall her first trip into New York City. She earned it by getting As in her three worst subjects of math, geography and spelling. She was 12 years old and her 20-year old sister Harriet escorted her into the City. That was Dot’s first ride on a train and when they got there, Harriet made sure that before the day was out, she would get to ride on every form of transportation available in NYC. They spent the day on subways, double deck buses, taxis, and even the Staten Island ferry. They toured Radio City and the Chrysler Building and visited the Statue of Liberty. They didn’t get home until 1:00 AM. Her Dad was angry when they arrived, but changed his tune as soon as he realized how much fun they’d had.

Yesterday, Dot got two job offers. One is for a new store similar to FS, but closer to her house and paying more money. The other is for a company called The Toy Mart. It sells new and second hand toys. She would be the only employee other than the owner, which would get her out of the situation she’s in now where she has three bosses who don’t talk to each other and who all expect her to be on call for them alone. Both offers are worth considering, so she’ll discuss them with her family tonight. She hopes that a new job would get her out of this rut she’s been in, even if she can’t join a branch of the service.

By the way, Gordon shares Dart’s opinion about her joining the WAVEs, so she says that’s the end of the discussion. She certainly couldn’t go against the wishes of her two favorite servicemen.

She guesses that neither of them will ever forget their meeting at Grand Central Station when Dart came to visit her. She was so nervous and had gotten no sleep the night before. She was out of bed before the alarm went off at 5:30. Dart was the last sailor off the train and Dot didn’t think her knees would hold out. She didn’t know how to act with this boy she liked so much, but whom she’d only seen three times in her life. When she asked El, her sister sort of winked and said, “Don’t worry about it. He may not be a Marine, but something tells me before too long he’ll have the situation well in hand.” It turned out that he was almost as nervous as Dot was! “Cheer up! Next time you see me I’m gonna talk so much you won’t get a word in edgewise.”

She turns serious then , when she tells Dart she doesn’t blame him for thinking about the “ifs,” but she begs him not to write about them. “I’m sure God doesn’t want us to anticipate sadness and heartache. Of course you’ll come home. They need a few million men like you to keep this cockeyed world on it’s feet, if it ever gets on its feet. ” Right now, her only prayer is that he and Gordon and millions of others get home to a peaceful life NOW! If every fighting man – German, English, Japanese, French or any other nationality – would simply refuse to fight any more, there’d be an instant end to the war. Then all these men could come home and do what men are supposed to do – teach their children and make a better world for them. “The grass on the other side of the fence may look greener, but if everyone keeps bombing cities, there won’t be any grass on either side of the fence, ever again.”

“There, now you have my opinion, better known as How Chamberlain Would Run the World If Given Half a Chance.

She enclosed a small photo clipped from a magazine of the newest Hollywood starlet, Lauren Bacall. She tells Dart she’ll look for a better picture of her – one where she’s not wearing a long-sleeved winter dress, if he knows what she means.

No letters tomorrow, but I’ll be back on the 29th with one from Dart.

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April 29, 1945

Dart writes this letter from the deck on a sunny spring day. There is just enough of a breeze to kick up an occasional white cap on the dark blue surface. He’d like to describe the scene around him, but he dare not. I suspect that means there’s an impressive fleet of warships all around and the censor would stop his description at first word.

Somehow, mail was delivered to the ship today, even though it is at sea. He received only one letter – that one from his mother. He’s still in the dark about Dot’s April 10th interview with the WAVEs. I’m sure his anguish on that topic is undiminished, but he has the grace not to say anything about it in this letter.

This is the first letter Helen Peterson has written to her son since learning that he was part of the raid on Tokyo. She was stunned that he would see heavy action so soon after arriving on the ship. Dart admits that, at the time, he was pretty stunned himself. The news of the raid hit the US just as Helen and Dot were shopping in downtown Cleveland.

He writes that he starts his new job in the mess on Tuesday. He’s steadfastly determined to withhold judgement on the new assignment until he’s had a chance to test it out. He’s heard there are some advantages to this post, such as no nightly watches. That means he’ll be able to stay in the sack for the whole night. He should be getting plenty to eat, and a few extra treats along the way. It’s unclear whether he’ll be eligible for an increase in rate during his tenure in the mess, but he doubts it. He welcomes the extra $5 per month in pay while on this assignment.

It being a fine day for taking pictures, the watch captain did just that today. He photographed the whole watch crew, two-by-two out on the deck. Dart says they had lots of fun in the process. He’ll try to send a shot of him and a buddy in front of one of the “Varga” girls.

He learned in his mother’s letter that a close friend, Homer Singer has been in a hospital in France for quite some time and will probably be getting an early discharge soon. His parents think he has malaria. That’s a far better fate than some of the Shaw classmates have seen.

Failing to think of any way to tell Dot how much he loves her, he says it in the same old way and then signs off.

What neither Dart nor the reader can know is that this letter is written on a fateful day in the life of the USS Haggard. Later that evening, a kamikazi pilot will crash his plane into the mid section of this proud ship, causing fire, destruction and a loss of lives from which the Haggard never fully recovers. You’ll not read one hint of it in these letters, but I’ll let the story unfold in it’s time.

Naturally, there will be no letters from Dart for a few days.

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April 30, 1945

Dot’s letter begins in a jubilant mood. “Boy! Oh, Boy! Three super letters from you and a super letter from your mom today. That’s the way I like to start off a Monday morning – meet the postman on my way to work and spend my first hour of work reading what I collected from the postman. It makes me feel like singing, and if I didn’t have a hard enough time finding customers already, I think I’d break out in song for sure.”

Isn’t it cool that she could collect letters from the postman so early in the morning and again when she came home for lunch? Back in the day when the mail brought more than ads and pleas for money, wouldn’t it have been fun to get two deliveries a day?

She begins to answer these “precious documents” in the order they were written. From the April 17th letter, she sees that Dart has a little celebrity crush on the newest starlet named Lauren Bacall. “Say, what is it that Lauren Bacall has that I couldn’t find plenty of use for? That’s one woman who seems to have made a hit with every kind of man.”

She assumes Dart got sunburned the day he wrote this letter. She hopes it was more evenly distributed than the burn he got last July in Greenwich. As she recalls, it was mostly his wrists where they extended beyond is sleeves that got bright red then. “The color does become you, though. So much more so for you, when it comes from without, than on me when it comes from within.” (I think she means blushing.)

She scolds him gently for telling his parents that it was she who sent the Easter flowers and not Dart. She knows it took away half their pleasure from the gift. “So be it. It’s done now. But hereafter, do me a little favor. To put it bluntly, keep your mouth shut, or in this case, your pen still, PLEASE!”

For his letter from the 19th, she says she hopes he gets his fill of gun shooting while he’s out there, because that’s the last thing she ever wants to see. Guns scare her! Seriously, Dot – the type of guns Dart is shooting “out there” are hardly the kind he could bring home as a souvenir! He’d need a flat bed railroad car to move one from place to place.

As for Ernie Pyle, she’s sure that Dart’s writing style is every bit as good as his was. “It’s not ability you’re lacking, Dart. It’s experience. But don’t think you have to go through all that he went through to be like him. I wouldn’t like that at all.”

She’s impressed that he’s up to 160 pounds. She loves him just the way he was when she saw him last, but every pound he gains gives her more to love.

“Oh-oh! Here comes the April 20th letter, or ‘Why Dot Should NOT Join the WAVEs!’ There’s little point in discussing it further, since she’s prohibited from joining anyway, but she appreciates that he cares enough to give her his honest opinion. “Thank you, my Darling, for caring enough to speak you piece (sic) and for guiding me in the right way.” She values his opinion so much that with every decision she faces, she finds herself asking “Which way would Dart decide?” She’s confident things worked out the way they’re supposed to, as they usually do in life, but she still hopes to do something useful someday.

As for kissing and making up, there’s no need – unless it’s for the “sheer joy of kissing.” He did not hurt her feelings. In fact, his carefully worded letter made her prouder and more in love with him that she was before. She wants to be a better woman for him because she knows he deserves the best. Once again she cautions him to stop building her up in his mind, lest the reality of her crushes his illusions when he gets home.

She wraps up quickly by telling him how proud she is of his grades and filling him in on a movie she and Nancy saw last night called “The Keys to the Kingdom,” with a young actor named Gregory Peck.

“I’m going to bed, but not before kissing your picture and praying that soon there’ll be no more ‘ifs’ to contend with.”

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