Remembering My Father
Just in time for Memorial Day, my cousin has surprised me with a scan of a long-hidden-away postcard written by my father during his service in World War II. I had no idea any of his letters and cards had been saved. I had not seen a single one until just yesterday.
Below is the card, and also a photo my cousin scanned and sent. Click on the postcard image to pop it out larger and make the text more legible. Pay especial attention to the bit about six pounds of coal per day and sleeping in his clothes to stay warm. Clearly he wasn't bunked in at the Hilton.
The card is dated 6 Dec 1943. Notice the censor's stamp at the upper left.
I've typed the words on the card in case you find the cursive difficult:
Dear Mother and Father
Haven't heard from home for so long I sometimes wonder if there is any body left at home to write. Things aren't to bad here except the lantern in our tent has gone on the blinks and that keeps us in the dark. The weather is holding out fine seeing that the mud is only ankle deep. His majesty allows us 6 lbs. of coal per man per 24 hrs. so it is very convenient for me in that I don't have to dress or undress as I am forced to sleep with my clothes on. I'm beginning to think General Sherman was right when he said "War is hell".
Your Loving Son,
Today is Memorial Day. Pause a moment to reflect on the sacrifices made to keep our nation secure. Because many did not make it home again. Those who did not return paid a price that we can never pay back. But we can remember them, and through that memory honor the price that was paid on our behalf.