Last night this bunch had caught hell, he said, and added something about a detachment being cut off and almost entirely wiped out. The ship had taken what was left of them off the beach after a sector had been regained.
Then the talking on deck stopped. The sailors on the other two ships all went below for Christmas chow. In a few minutes, our own cook stuck his head out of the galley hatchway and called “chow’s down.” He seemed surprised when there was no rush for choice seats at the table. He was surprised until somebody talked to him. And then we all ate a handsome and delicious dinner together, in the crew’s quarters, officers and men, in almost complete silence.
The subchaser on which Sweeney wrote his Christmas letter
That’s it Esther. It happened about two hours ago and it’s affected me very powerfully. My fingers actually feel leaden as I type. Yet, I feel so heavily somber that I feel I have to tell somebody and you’ve always been a good listener.
We’ve been near enough to see things like this for quite a while. But for some reason or other, hand of God I guess, we’ve been completely immune. It wasn’t much that I saw either. It was just a little side issue, just a pebble in a sea of trouble, and all we saw were the immediate afteraffects. So, this is Christmas, and it’s the saddest one I’ve ever known. I wish you’d keep this letter to yourself, at least, completely away from the rest of the family….
Life gave me a Christmas present a couple of hours ago; it’s a gnawing appreciation of what all this means to all the people, usually the little and insignificant people, who have to go through agony. The war was personalized for me a couple of hours ago in the faces and battered figures of a handful of ruined men.
I’m sorry this had to be such a sad letter. But I just want to tell somebody and when I have something like this to tell I want to tell it to somebody close to me and who thinks and feels a lot like I do. And you’ve always been the closest that way.
We’ll probably be moving out of here after a while. Then I’ll try a cheerful and funny epistle about the heat and the bugs and the natives and how the movie cameras splutter aboard the big ships at places farther away. Until then, lots of love, Esther, and write as soon as you can.
Charlie
Like Charles Sweeney, twenty-five-year-old Edward L. Pulaski, a lieutenant in the Army Air Corps fighting overseas in 1944, also found himself in a reflective mood as the holidays approached. Pulaski was flying B-29s in the CBI (China-Burma-India) theater, and he had witnessed his share of death and destruction. But whenever his spirits started to sag, all he had to do was think of the beautiful young woman waiting for him back in Salina, Kansas, twenty-one-year-old Sara “Mickey” Rooney. The two had been introduced by a mutual friend and fell in love almost immediately. After dating for only a few months, Pulaski was mobilized and the two were separated. In late November 1944, he sent Rooney the following letter so that it would come before Christmas. And he had arranged, through a friend, for her to receive a special gift at the same time that the letter arrived.
My dearest Mickey,
Somehow I’ve got to put Christmas spirit into this letter while in a country that seldom sees snow except atop it’s tallest northern mountains. Somehow I’ve got to pass on the spirit of good will towards men when all around me and myself are so sick and tired of being away that there is little good will even among us. Somehow I’ve got to say “Peace on Earth” when perhaps tomorrow I’ll kill thousands of people. Somehow I’ve got to present you with both a gift and a token that means we are very close to each other though we couldn’t be farther apart on this earth than we are right now.
Edward Pulaski, and his letter
Yet it is very easy for me to picture the snow that I’ve always seen at Christmas, feel the good will towards men that down deep all of us here try to feel above it all, honestly say “Peace on Earth” along with hundreds of millions of other people who have felt the absence of peace more than you or I. And easiest of all, I can offer you this ring knowing you will accept it because I know you feel as I,—that no two people can be any closer than you or I. And the prayer that I make today, Christmas, is that we’ll always have our white snow, good will towards men, peace on earth for us and our children and all children forever after, and each other as long as God wills it.
So wear the ring Mickey, and be merry. For me this is a Merry Christmas. I hope I’ve helped make yours the same, just as I’ll always try to make every single day happy for you as long as we live. I love you, Mickey.
Eddie
Edward and Sara Pulaski in 1996
Edward Pulaski came home from the war in March 1945, and two weeks after returning he and Rooney got married. They raised four children and remained together for fifty-eight years, until, in 2002, Pulaski passed away.
After Several Candid Conversations with Fellow Troops About Infidelity, First Lieutenant Roy Fisher Tells His Wife How Proud He Is of Their Love for and Commitment to One Another
Separated for months and even years during the war, most couples found the time away from one another to be unbearable. Some became unfaithful, while others worked hard to honor the vow they had made to their loved one, no matter how difficult being apart may have felt. Only three months after getting married, First Lieutenant Roy “Jack” Fisher had to say good-bye to his wife, Joyce, when he deployed to Europe to fly B-17s over Germany. Fisher was madly in love with Joyce and wrote to her as often as he could. In March 1945, he sent the following letter to emphasize how pleased he was with their relationship and the high moral standards to which they strived to adhere.
Sunday nite March 11—
Joyce Darling,
I haven’t written for two nites cause I ran out of stamps and I know you won’t get these till I get home anyway. But I miss these nitely chats so much that I’m gonna write you anyway and just save the letters till I get home & then if you want to read them then—I’m sweating out orders now. My two room mates got on orders today and I got here when they did so it shouldn’t be too long now.
I had quite an interesting day today darling. It all started out by my going to chapel like a good boy. Tex went with me and when we got started back to the barracks we got to cussing & discussing the sermon. He had said that the time had come for us to place our faith in God rather than in physical tangeable things. We should love our neighbors and look toward Christ and his teachings to help us in the peace that follows this war. We should get out of the rocking boat and walk on the water. Of course that isn’t possible without tremendous faith and so he really had a point. Well we got started on the love your neighbor idea and we really had it out.
Then we went to see This is the Army this afternoon and while we were waiting for the show to start we got to talking to a fellow who had just come back from Sweden. He got to talking about the girls over there and the kind of deal they had. He said that he got a girl to keep house and cook his meals & so on. It seems that they take a very liberal view on couples living together—sort of trial marriage idea—. Well—when we got back to the sack we got on the subject of sex, fidelity and how different it is over here in these older countries than it is at home. Then of course that brought up the old argument about the double standard. How the wife should be a virgin regardless but that it really makes no difference as far as the man is concerned. Well—darling—you know I don’t believe that and I know you don’t. At any rate it was quite a discussion.
But to get back to the show. Remember the scene where the girl finally prevailed upon him to get married and they were joined by an army chaplain in the wings of the theater. I closed my eyes when they started saying the vows and I saw the prettiest bride in the world. Dressed in a white linen suit she stood there beside me as the service went along and then she turned to me and looked me straight in the eye and said she’d be mine forever. I could look right into your heart that day my darling. I could read your heart more clearly than I ever did before and I knew that you meant it with all your heart and soul and I hoped that
you could read my heart too. I wanted you to know that my heart and soul reflected & radiated the same truth & sincerity which yours revealed to me. Yes—darling—I cried this afternoon tears of joy filled my eyes as I remembered that kiss that made you my wife forever. And then I wanted you beside me more than anything else in the world. I wanted to have your hand in mine so we could repeat those vows to each other and reaffirm them in each others hearts & souls. And I wanted to hold you in my arms darling and feel your breast pressed close to mine.
Dearest—I want you so very much. Because I love you so very muchly—
Nite sweetheart
Jack
Fisher returned to the arms of his wife four weeks later. They raised seven daughters (their only son died of cancer) and remained happily married.
Only Days After Being Liberated from a German POW Camp, Private First Class James F.Norton Writes a Jubilant Letter to His Parents Proclaiming “By the Grace of My Lord and Savior I Am Here Today”
“Dearest Mom and Dad,” Private First Class James F. Norton began a letter to his parents back in St. Paul, Minnesota, on April 15, 1945. “This is the second happiest moment of my life,” the nineteen-year-old soldier continued,
at last a chance to write home. The happiest moment came a few days ago when the greatest army in the world liberated me. Things have been happening so fast to me since I’ve been liberated, my head is still spinning. As much as I’ve cussed the army, I love it now, and I’ve never seen a more smooth working, efficient organization.
Norton especially wanted his parents to know that the experience of being wounded and captured, as terrible as it had been, had one positive effect—it had made him a more religious man. He went on to write:
Gosh, there’s so much to say, I don’t even know how to start, and to tell the truth I don’t know what I’m allowed to write or not.
I’m back in a huge, beautiful hospital in France, so I guess it won’t be very hard for you to guess where I am. I’ve received nothing but the greatest of kindness from every one, and I never could put it in words what it feels like to be treated as a human being again. I am so happy I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Today we had the meal I’ve been dreaming about for 4 months - steak and french fries, and how--how I’ve been eating.
I’ll never forget as long as I live when I saw that first Yank. I always said I’d kiss the first one I saw who liberated us, even if it were a 2nd Looie, and you guessed it, he was. He was more surprised than I, and I imagine it’s the first time in history an officer has ever been kissed by an enlisted man. Then they gave us chocolate bars and cigarettes and I went wild. From there to here it has been a smooth job of evacuation.
I was shot and taken prisoner on the memorable day - Dec. 16, the first day of the terrific German breakthrough in the Ardennes, when all hell broke loose. The next four months I will tell about when I get home, and will describe them now in two words, Living Hell.
My leg is just about well now, and I’m here more or less to be built up. It will only be a short stay and I should be back in the States soon, Mom, and when I do get home, I’ll probably never get farther than the back porch, as I’ve had all the excitement and adventure to last me a lifetime.
This is a small world. I never saw Bob Muyre from the day I got captured until now, and I often wondered what happened to him, and here we run into each other in the same ward of the huge hospital, and we both came in the same day. He was also shot in the leg but went to a different place and was also liberated a few days ago. Gosh, were we happy to see each other. Now my biggest concern is what happened to Red Deal, the best friend I ever had, and a lot of my other buddies. There’s a million things I want to learn now that I’m back in contact again.
My biggest concern and something that has always been on my mind is how you two are and how the Missing in Action affected you. But you are both brave, strong parents so I’m sure everything is all right.
We were all saddened very much yesterday by the death of our great leader and a real buddy to every G.I. Joe, President Roosevelt. But it was God’s will, and I hope that President Truman can fill his shoes.
Death has faced me many times in the past months and by the grace of my Lord and Savior I am here today to write this letter. I always considered myself a good Christian until I was captured, and then I learned what a fool I had been and what it really means to have faith and the power of prayer. I prayed day and nite, and these prayers were heard with the result that today I can really call myself a good Catholic and firm believer in the will of God.
I could fill up pages, but there’s so much I’d rather tell than write, and so much more I want to know about you, Johnny and Bill. This is a poor attempt for my first letter, but I find it much more difficult than I expected. I hope to be in the States before I get an answer. To see your faces again will be the happiest moment of my life. I love you both and thank God every day I have such wonderful parents.
Your loving son, Jim
The Korean War
En Route to Korea, Captain Molton A.Shuler Jr.Laments to His Family That He Misses Them Already
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Shuler Writes Home About an Improvised Church Service That He and Fellow Soldiers Celebrated in the Midst of Battle
A veteran of World War II, twenty-nine-year-old Captain Molt Shuler was attending the University of South Carolina Law School in Columbia when his reserve unit was called back to active duty after the communist North Korean army invaded South Korea in June 1950. As a student, married man, and father, Shuler could easily have obtained a deferment, but he felt an obligation to serve his country once again. While en route to Asia (via Alaska), he wrote the following letter to his wife, Helen, and began with a brief message to their four-year-old son, Duane. (“Sissy” is their daughter, Sheryl, who was not yet two.)
8 May 1952
My Dear Little “Bubba”—
Tomorrow you will be four years old—but when this letter reaches you your birthday will be past. Daddy wishes he could have been with you to help you celebrate—maybe next year when you are five Daddy will be there. Anyway, I hope your present came in time. And I hope you will enjoy looking at your books and having Mommie read them to you….
Molton and Helen Shuler
While Daddy is away I want you to eat all of your big man food so you’ll be ready to fish with Daddy when he gets home. And I want you and “Sissy” to do just what Mommie says for you to do ’cause you have to take care of Mommie now that Daddy is away. Will you promise to be a good boy? I know you will.
Daddy will write again later—when he gets to Japan. God bless you and “Sissy.”
Daddy loves you so much.
Daddy
P.S. You must give this page of your letter to Mommie for her to read—o.k.?
That’s a good boy.
My dearest—words won’t describe the hurt in my heart to be moving further away from the one and only perfect wife on earth with each tick of the clock. I feel all choked up and my heart seems as if it is being torn out of my body. In fact I don’t really have a heart anymore—I left it with you. For where you are is my whole life. Only the times when I receive mail from you will it be again in my body—for your words and thoughts will be you for the minutes I have to read and think of you. At times it may be hard for you to love me—but try hard, won’t you? No effort on my part to love you is necessary—for you are easy—so easy to love.
I’ll mail this in Anchorage—but I shan’t write again until I am in Japan—for I want to do some reading in a Field Manual.
All my love—for always
Molt
Just over two weeks later, Shuler was in Korea. But despite the harsh conditions and stress of combat, he nevertheless found himself in an up-beat mood. Hunkered down in Chorwon, just north of the 38th Parallel, he sent the following letter.
Sunday nite 25 May 1952
Helen my Darling—
You are perfection—the paragon of womankind—and you’re
my wife—and I adore you! And what’s more, your first 6 letters came today! With them came my very life—for my heart was slowly breaking for words of love and tenderness from you, my beloved wife. It’s impossible to describe what your letters meant to me. More than you can possibly imagine I appreciate your love. I know full well you love me—but I can’t see quite why. But I’m not going to quibble. I’m only going to love you more for loving me as you do.
Then there is another reason for my good spirits tonite—as if your letters were not enough. I went to church tonite. Let me paint you a word picture of the “church”. Picture a grassy hillside surrounded by mountains. And a rugged looking—crew hair cut and all—chaplain dressed in fatigues standing by a Government Issue folding podium with a red velvet cover and brass candelabra minus candles, all placed on a couple of ammo boxes.
Then just left of the “pulpit” as you face it you find a battered, 30-odd key, olive drab organ, a GI pianist seated on a 5 gallon gasoline can. And in the background you find blasted Chinese bunkers and old gun emplacements. Then if you look way to your left you’ll see a battery of 6105 howitzers, their ugly muzzles pointed menacingly toward the North. To the right and on up the valley are bunkers of our company, a couple of tents from which winds a road (one way) behind our “church”.
Duane and Sheryl Shuler
Grace Under Fire Page 8