A Family War Correspondence       Conor Devine

Dear Peg,

How is everybody at home?  I have been itching to write to you since our ship landed over here.  I don’t have much to tell you but I just wanted to keep in touch, and I’m sure you have all been wondering how I was.  I bet you and Jeanie have been helping mother prepare for Thanksgiving.  When I close my eyes, I can just about see the golden brown turkey roasting in the oven and smell mother’s stuffing that we all love so much.  Gosh, I’ve got to stop thinking about these things, my stomach is groaning.  The food here is real crummy. 

One of my buddies who I met on the way over here is about my age, and is named Fred Steck.  He’s from Atlanta, Georgia, and if it weren’t for his southern accent, I’d think he was Oliver Hardy.  He’s short and fat, and boy can he tell a joke!  I think you’d like him a lot.  I haven’t met most of the other guys, but of those I have, they all seem like real swell guys.  Its nice and hot here, and it reminds me of Crystal Beach in the summertime.  Right now, we’re all sitting around in our bunks getting ready for bed and listening to one of Bing Crosby’s records.  That’s about all I have to say for now, so I think I’ll say goodbye.  Tell mother and father I love them.  The same goes for you, Jeanie, and Jack.  You know my APO number, so you can write to me whenever you like.

Love,

Ray

Dear Ray,

            We were all so glad to hear from you.  We felt so relieved that you aren’t in direct combat.  Things here are very different at home with both you and Joe away.  It seems awfully quiet without you, but it makes us all so proud to see two red stars in our window.  Most houses only have one, and some none at all. 

            Yesterday, mother and I started making the cookies I sent you, and then we ran out of sugar.  Worse yet, we had used our last ration stamp and wouldn’t be getting more for at least another week.  Mother made me go to the Reilly’s and trade one of our coffee stamps for one of their sugar stamps.  Fortunately, they had one left, and needed more coffee.  Then, I had to go to the grocer’s to get the sugar.  On the way home, it began the rain, and so that the sugar wouldn’t clump up, I had to run with it pressed closely to me.  I looked like quite a fool.  After all that trouble, I hope you like the cookies.  They’re chocolate chip, your favorite.  Maybe you can share them with that Oliver Hardy fellow you wrote about.

            Last Friday, I went to the ice cream parlor with Mary O’Grady, and you’ll never guess who we saw holding hands.  Bobby Sykes and Jean Kowalski!  I never would have guessed that they were seeing each other, but Mary says she’s seen them together twice now!  Also, Mrs. McNamara from Hamburg Street had her baby.  It’s a boy, and his name is Michael Patrick McNamara.  Mother says he is simply adorable.

            I’ll write to you again soon.

                                                                                    Love,

                                                                                    Peg

P.S.  Mrs. Reilly told me that Jimmy is stationed somewhere in the Pacific.

Dear Peg,

The cookies you sent were swell.  All the other guys wished they had a sister like you.  I told ‘em nobody makes cookies like Peg! 

Never again will I moan when mother asks me to help around the house or do a small chore; yesterday my buddy and I had to mop the kitchen floor and then wash all the dishes from the morning’s breakfast.  As bad as it seems, we considered ourselves lucky to get this job.  Last week, we had latrine duty.  There is no way to describe such a terrible chore.  I’ve only done it once, but I’ve decided that once was more than enough for me!

Is Jeanie still playing the piano?  I sure hope so; she can really play, boy!  There is a piano in the mess hall, and on Saturday nights, we’re allowed to play it, but of all the guys in the camp, none of them can play half as well as Jeanie.  Gee, I miss that!  At the bottom of this page, I drew a picture of a little guy that someone in the services made up.  His name is Kilroy, and everyone knows about him.  I don’t know who drew him first, but people say that he is drawn on walls all over the world.  At first glance, he looks a little like Uncle Jack, don’t you think?  Don’t tell Uncle Jack!

When, I left home, we only knew that Joe was doing well and was somewhere on a ship.  How is he now?  I love you, and say hello to mother and father and the rest of the family.

                                                                                                Love,

                                                                                                Ray

Dear Ray,

We were all so happy to hear from you again.  Everything back home is great.  Mother and Father are well, and Jeanie is still playing the piano.  She seems to be getting better and better each day.  She can play any song that she wants without the sheet music.  Jack has been growing like a weed.  He’ll probably be close to your height by the time you come home.  In school, my friends and I have all chosen names of soldiers without family to write to them.  Mrs. Flynn said that it was to help the war effort and keep up the morale of the soldiers.  It seems that these days everything we do is to help the war effort.  Just the other day, I put a run in my nylon stockings and I nearly died.  I visited Adam Meldrum and Anderson’s to see about purchasing another pair, and I had to add my name to a waiting list.  The manager said that I probably wouldn’t get a new pair for a few months!  Mother helped me stitch them up again, and now I have a ghastly scar-looking thing on my leg.  Normally, I’d be mortified to walk around town looking like this, but so many other girls must do the same, so I suppose I’ll survive.  We have even been asked to save the fat from our pan when we make bacon!  I have no idea what the army could be using it for, but every week, a man comes around and picks it up from us.  Last week, Jack kicked over the can of lard without knowing it, and he tracked the grease all over the house.  Mother was fit to be tied!

Molly from next door has gotten herself a job at the old Ford Motor Company.  It has changed to DNX Engines now, and she works putting together ship engines.  I never would have thought of her as a hard worker, but I guess even she can be useful.  Another activity that my friends and I have become involved in is a program run by the school that works to make knitted blankets and things for you men overseas.  We all knit little squares about six inches by six inches that I assume are being sewn together to make blankets.  If you should happen to receive one that is much more the shape of a triangle, then it could be one that I made.  I just can never remember if it’s knit one, pearl two, or if it’s pearl one, knit two.  Sooner or later I’ll get the knack of it.

As for Joe, we’ve heard from him a few times since you left.  He is doing well, and as far as we know, he is still patrolling the seas on the same ship as before.  We all love you very much and anticipate the end of the war with great excitement.  (When you do come home, I suggest that you forget your picture of Miss Grable.  Mother doesn’t approve!)

                                                                                                Love,

                                                                                                Peg    

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