A D-Day Letter From a GI to His Bride Highlights the Resilience of the Greatest Generation – Opinion

This article was first published at RedState June 6, 2017. The author was interviewed by Kira Davis about Steve & Dorothy’s love story; listen to that episode here. EuroNews covered the story in its D-Day 75th Anniversary coverage.

I have always had a passion for World War II history. I’m in awe of the bravery shown by the millions of men and women who served in the military and the unified efforts of the Americans at home, and, since three of my grandparents served in the military (and the fourth worked as a Rosie the Riveter and, for a brief time, with OSS) I grew up hearing family stories from that era. D-Day was personalized for me in 2007.

In that year, I received 300 letters from my grandfather to my grandmother in World War 2. They had been writing them since June 1943. The letters were carefully organized by postmark date – Gram even wrote the date she received it on the envelope. The letter contained a June 7th, 1944 home-written note.

Grandpa Steve was an Indiana boy who’d enlisted and was based at Twentynine Palms in the California desert. His friends and he would ride the train to Los Angeles whenever they were able to get weekend passes. Grandma Dorothy (a Californian redheaded Irish/French-native) loved to dance all night.

Growing up we heard the “how we met” story a million times. Grandpa and his friends went to the USO to “order up” some girls to take dancing that night, and when Grandpa and his friend saw my stunning grandmother they both wanted her to be their date.

The two of them flipped a coin and Grandpa was the winner.

After a whirlwind six-week courtship the two were engaged, and shortly thereafter Grandpa’s unit was moved to Fort Polk, Louisiana. He dubbed her his “Chin Up” girl, probably due to her sending him pictures like this…

…and they tried to schedule a time to get married. (There was a lot more family and soap opera drama going on during that time – but I’ll leave that for the screenplay.)

Finally, Grandpa’s unit moved to Fort Dix, NJ, and they knew they’d be heading to Europe soon. They worked for three weeks with Grandpa’s unit and the Chaplain in order to get Dot married and to bring her to New York. There were many cancellations. Finally, arrangements were made and Dot quickly boarded a train in Los Angeles and met him in Manhattan, where they were married on March 27, 1944.

They had most of a week together before he shipped out to England on April 3, 1944 (and the only way she knew he was gone was when he didn’t show back up at her hotel that evening).

Dot headed back to Los Angeles to work as a “Rosie the Riveter” while waiting for her husband to return. As every other war bride she waited to hear from Steve following the D-Day invasion. Finally, she received the letter.

“June 7th – England

“My dearest, darling wife,

“How is my dream girl tonight? Okay, that’s what I hope. You are now my darling with your rusty hair dominating the dirt on your tip. Your eyes have a distant look and your thoughts seem submissive. This is a time when thousands of wives and mothers are also asking the same questions. Darling, put those thoughts aside. I am healthy and happy. It is human nature for me to not take things for granted. Darling, you are always with me because mind and spirit are one. Even though we live seven thousand miles apart.

“This is a perfect night for dreaming. There’s a big silver dollar of a moon and a cool breeze floating on the air. It was a wonderful night, my darling. This reminds of the August 15th, when I proposed to my girl of dreams. No, there isn’t any Palm Trees or parked car in front of Mrs. Gartman’s, but just the same it reminds me of a night I’ll never forget. Although it might seem awkward, I want to let you know that I do love and cherish you. It is impossible to love you as much as I do, so why must you keep me awake at night?

“How are the B-25’s coming along, darling? Every time I see one I get a funny feeling and say to myself, ‘Maybe Dot has helped put that baby into the air.’ It’s a wonderful feeling, darling. Frank came over yesterday and had an ordinary ladies’ chat. He told me to tell you hello for him, but from now on it is, ‘Speak for yourself, John.’

“Ha. Ha. It’s a shame that he didn’t see you. He hadn’t shaved for a week and I don’t see how he could see through his glasses they were so dirty.

“Well, darling, the day we have waited so long for has come, and on the very day, one year from the day I met you. I hope it won’t be long. Let Mom know that I will be writing to her shortly. Actually, I will write tomorrow night. Dearest, I have to leave tonight but will be back tomorrow. It is my promise. Good night sweetheart and happy dreams. What do you think of me, sweetheart? I’ll be home for supper, honey.

Your husband,

Steve

P.S. P.S. Honey, you could send me some writing paper. Also, send some cigarettes if you get any.”

It must have felt like a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders when she could see his handwriting, and knew he was safe. He wasn’t in the forces that stormed the beaches on D-Day, but as part of the Signal Corps went with the allied forces into France, Belgium, Holland (where his family had emigrated from less than 50 years earlier), and then into Germany. His last letter, dated August 25, 1945 from La Havre in France, is his final one. He was there until August 1945.

They gathered their crew and went to the Palladium for a night of dancing after he returned from Los Angeles. (They’re the fetching couple on the left.)

Grandpa’s June 7 letter, though noteworthy because of the event it references, is also emblematic of the Greatest Generation. They were a newlywed couple in their early 20’s facing an extended separation, war, and an uncertain future, and he found a way to mix lighthearted everyday experiences with his friend Frank in with romantic assurances that he was going to be okay.

Even from 7,000 miles away he was simply a husband doing all he could to protect his wife – while working to “liberate Europe from Nazi occupation.”