1944 was a good year for Dad. He was made a sergeant, and he finally got to marry Bonnie toward the end of that year. He continued training other soldiers and working as a mechanic on military vehicles. When he wrote this letter he was still in England but longed to see some American cars and to hear the sounds of home in the traffic of streets in places like Gary, which at that time was quite a different place from what it is today. JB
 |
| 1942 Chevy Gansel (Woody) |
9 Sept, 1944
Dear Mom & Dad,
Have you been getting any mail from me lately? I sure hope you have. I know how much you worry when you don’t hear from me. You said in your letter that Marge sent me some pictures of Eddie. I never got them, so as usual, I suppose they have been lost. How are Marge and Ronnie getting along? Is she still working? Say, have you heard from Eddie yet? I still am waiting for his letters so I can write to his ship. There is no use writing until I hear from him because the letter may not catch him. Don’t worry about Eddie though. He is OK wherever he is. How is everyone there at home? Still peaceful and happy? I sure hope so. Lt. Noel gave me a couple of CHICAGO TRIBUNE’s today, and I was reading all about the news of the Middle West. It gave me a lift just to be able to read a paper from around home. I sure wish I were there now to read them. How I would like to drive through Gary tonight with Bonnie beside me. I used to hate to drive there on a Saturday evening because it was so crowded, but now I want to see just one street where there is a Ford and an Oldsmobile, and Chev’s and Plymouths and Packards, etc. I want to see lights and people moving in crowded masses, and to hear horns blowing and street cars changing around. Boy, this sounds silly, but it is what I call spending a perfect evening. Going to the show or bowling or skating. Egad. Boy, the blues sure get me on this island they call England. I wish we were in France, no kidding.
Well, I guess I’ve blown off enough steam.
There isn’t much more to say, only that if I have forgotten to answer any of your questions it is because I haven’t got your letter here with me. I sure miss you and hope we can all come back home when Germany is whipped. Bye for now. Be careful. Tell everyone I said “hello.” Please don’t worry about me. I am just fine and am in no danger at all. God bless you.
Dear Mom & Dad,
Have you been getting any mail from me lately? I sure hope you have. I know how much you worry when you don’t hear from me. You said in your letter that Marge sent me some pictures of Eddie. I never got them, so as usual, I suppose they have been lost. How are Marge and Ronnie getting along? Is she still working? Say, have you heard from Eddie yet? I still am waiting for his letters so I can write to his ship. There is no use writing until I hear from him because the letter may not catch him. Don’t worry about Eddie though. He is OK wherever he is. How is everyone there at home? Still peaceful and happy? I sure hope so. Lt. Noel gave me a couple of CHICAGO TRIBUNE’s today, and I was reading all about the news of the Middle West. It gave me a lift just to be able to read a paper from around home. I sure wish I were there now to read them. How I would like to drive through Gary tonight with Bonnie beside me. I used to hate to drive there on a Saturday evening because it was so crowded, but now I want to see just one street where there is a Ford and an Oldsmobile, and Chev’s and Plymouths and Packards, etc. I want to see lights and people moving in crowded masses, and to hear horns blowing and street cars changing around. Boy, this sounds silly, but it is what I call spending a perfect evening. Going to the show or bowling or skating. Egad. Boy, the blues sure get me on this island they call England. I wish we were in France, no kidding.
Well, I guess I’ve blown off enough steam.
There isn’t much more to say, only that if I have forgotten to answer any of your questions it is because I haven’t got your letter here with me. I sure miss you and hope we can all come back home when Germany is whipped. Bye for now. Be careful. Tell everyone I said “hello.” Please don’t worry about me. I am just fine and am in no danger at all. God bless you.
 | |||||
| 1941 DeSoto |
 | |
| 1942 Plymouth |
 | |
| 1940 Packard |
