Cleaning closets can be tiring and interesting. You might find things that help you lose your blissful ignorance. Tonight, I found a black leatherette briefcase that had seen better days. It belonged to my parents. Inside I found a cache of letters that were written to my father during World War II. Of the six, only one was from a woman and from what was said, she was dating some other service man. I knew that my father had a rocky time in the Army Air Corp, but I didn’t know it was common knowledge among his friends. I had found his mustering out papers, so I had a time frame of when he was in and when he came out, but these letters fill in a lot of blanks. They also show just how scattered the men from the neighborhood became during this time. San Francisco, North Carolina, Alabama, somewhere in England, and out on a Pacific island is a pretty big area from a bunch of Chicago boys (as they identify themselves) to cover. I am going to save them by transcribing them into my computer and scanning them too because the hand writing, like the content, is remarkable. Wish I had found them before Pearl Harbor Day, but the timing here is not too bad. Come back to see what WWII was like.
Barnesversation 