Dear Sergeant Honey Part III

By Ceil Stetson

Review by Claudia Pemberton for the Military Writers Society of America

It's not often that a reader is privy to the intimate writings of an individual's diary and/or personal letters, but on the rare occasion that they are, it can make for a reading experience like none other. Such is the case of Dear Sergeant Honey.
Unlike an autobiography, this compilation of diary entries and letters offers a glimpse into a past that is neither embellished nor retold by way of an imperfect memory. It is told in perfect recollection on a day by day basis.
Dear Sergeant Honey is an impressive and rare collection of a personal account of World War II as told by a woman who actually lived it. Staff Sergeant Hildegarde Molnar, a member of the Women's Army Corps during World War II brings us along on her distinguished and unique military (and personal) journey from basic training in February, 1943, to her return home in September of 1945, with stops everywhere in between.
While stationed in England, Hildegarde meets her husband to be, Staff Sergeant Grandon Scott. Grandon was also serving in the Air Force at the time. Since both of them were ranked as sergeants, they would begin their letters to one another with the greeting, "Dear Sergeant Honey." Their catchy salutation now serves as the perfect title for Hildegarde's memoir.

Hildegarde was one of an elite group of women soldiers who was permitted to wear combat ribbons for her involvement in the war. Also for her "Meritorious service in direct support of military operations," Staff Sergeant Hildegarde Molnar was awared the prestigious Bronze Star Medal. After her passing in 2001 at the age of 86, her daughter, Ceil Stetson, discovered the treasury of letters and diary entries and compiled them for publication.

The book, although serious in context, has some humorous moments intermingled with the touching and somber recounting of a world war with intricate details as told from a rare perspective at the time. . a female soldier's perspective. WW II buffs will find Dear Sergeant Honey fascinating; historians will find it enlightening; women will find it empowering; and soldiers will find it authentic.
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• Language: English
• Publisher: Ceil Stetson
• Release date: Feb 12, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301712083

Ceil Stetson

The photo is of my mother, the actual author of this book. I am merely the editor. We are full time RVers. We participate in the Author's Fair at Reader's Oasis Bookstore in Quartzsite, Arizona in January and February. Stop by and visit.

Book preview

Excerpts of Review by Claudia Pemberton of the Military Writers Society of America

It's not often that a reader is privy to the intimate writings of an individual's diary and/or personal letters, but on the rare occasion that they are, it can make for a reading experience like none other. Such is the case of Dear Sergeant Honey.

While stationed in England, Hildegarde meets her husband to be, Staff Sergeant Grandon Scott. Since both of them were ranked as sergeants, they would begin their letters to one another with the greeting, Dear Sergeant Honey. Their catchy salutation now serves as the perfect title for Hildegarde's memoir.

WW II buffs will find Dear Sergeant Honey fascinating; historians will find it enlightening; women will find it empowering; and soldiers will find it authentic. (Editor's Note: Complete review on web page)

Dear Sergeant Honey

Part III Dear Sergeant Honey

by

Ceil Stetson

Published by Ceil Stetson at Smashwords

Copyright 2013 by Ceil Stetson

http://www.dearsergeanthoney.com

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Smashwords License Statement

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment. This ebook may not be reproduced, copied or distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people.

Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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INTRODUCTION

My mother is the author of this book, I am merely the editor of her words. Everything is true, just as she wrote it during her military service in World War II. I have edited some diary entries and letters for brevity but never added to her words. I did put the locations on her diary entries.

This is not an interview after the fact. This is true history written as things happened. She wrote in her diary every day. She wrote voluminous letters home full of detail. I had no idea she kept all her papers from World War II until after she passed away in 2001. I discovered her World War II souvenirs, letters, diaries, programs, newspaper clippings, medals, and photographs. I spent several years assembling and putting her letters and diary entries into the computer. There is a print edition available also.

The book is in four parts and will be published as four separate ebooks:

Part I is The Basics and covers basic training at Daytona Beach, FL, Camp Polk, LA, Ft. Devens, MA, and Camp Shanks, NY, from February 1943 to July 1943, published January 2, 2013 on Smashwords.

Part II is Don't Worry Until I Tell You To and covers at sea to England, Earls Colne Airfield and Marks Hall where she was attached to the 3rd Bombardment Division (M). The dates for this part are July 1943 to December 1943, published January 11, 2013 on Smashwords.

Part III is Dear Sergeant Honey and covers Marks Hall; Chartres, France; Reims, France, from December 1943 to December 1944.

Part IV is The Greatest Generation Goes Home and covers Reims, France; Namur, Belgium, Camp Beale, CA, from December 1944 to September 1945.

Please visit my website at http://www.dearsergeanthoney.com. There are pictures and a lot of information about her and and the WACS. There is an ebook page especially for pictures mentioned in this ebook. There is also A Cast of Characters to help you get to know the people mentioned in her letters and diary entries. You can contact me through the website. I would love to hear from you.

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Diary Sunday, December 19, 1943 Marks Hall. Woke up at 8:00. No breakfast. Didn't have to be at work till 9:00. Raining. Reported in at work and out again for church. Capt. Weilbacher came in and collected transcript. Longest yet. Julie and I to Colchester with Paul and Scott, my blind date. In to Cupps with bottle of gin. Their CO came along, we went to hotel lounge.

Diary Monday, December 20, 1943. Marks Hall. Slack time in office seemed good. Got some dictation. Feeling depressed in afternoon like something bad was going to happen. Got called for wearing rayon stockings. Mended some cottons. Fixed laundry. Date with Rhodes. To Coggie on bikes. His friend Jim Wilson came along. Located some gin at Wolf Pack. Crazy conversation in orderly room.

Diary Tuesday, December 21, 1943. Marks Hall. New Sibley stove in hut, too hot for me. To Braintree for Christmas party in evening at hospital. Feeling dull and tacky.

Diary Wednesday, December 22, 1943. Marks Hall. Can't travel over 20 miles away so took only 24 hour pass instead of 48. Slept sound till 10:00. Delish. Went to mess in fatigues. To Colchester. Caught ambulance ride to Coggie. Phone out of order in our area so called Scott from Coggie. Spent hour waiting, sole WAC in Red Cross. Scott showed up. Cold night. Had a couple drinks, caught ride home.

Diary Thursday, December 23, 1943. Marks Hall. Back to work. Nothing special. For the first time in Army pulled CQ. (Editor's Note: CQ is Charge of Quarters. When an officer isn't present, a sergeant is in charge most commonly until midnight or the latest pass. Also has to do bed check.) Scott came down. Stayed till 11. I went up and made bed check.

Letter home, Thursday, December 23, 1943

Dear Mother,

You really managed to pack a lot of news in one of those little V-mail gadgets. Glad to hear you kept the phone and find it useful. Got a kick out of reading that my little old Chubbie was used as the transport to Burbank. The longer I have Chubbie, even by remote control, the happier I am I went conservative and didn't end up with a convertible this time. But just wait till this war is over and I'm gonna get something I can take the lid off of, maybe a Jeep.

I was due for a two day pass this week, but since we couldn't travel over 20 miles I negotiated to take a day off this week and then take the regular two day pass next week. So yesterday was my day off and I used it to good advantage. Went to the hospital the evening before for our regular weekly visit. The Red Cross arranged a Christmas party for the GIs and visiting WACs. They had a lovely tree, complete with lights and everything. You should have seen the ingenious decorations, colored Ping-Pong balls. Of course they didn't use new ones. They looked just as pretty even though they were cracked and useless. Another cute trick to add color, they had heated toothbrush handles and bent them into circles and strung them up. We couldn't figure out what they were and had to ask. We had a good time, sang some Christmas carols. Hospital boys have to turn in at 9:00 so we had to leave early. Came back home and fuddled away some time in the barracks and turned in.

So the next morning, my day off, I vaguely remember hearing some noises as the woiking goils (Editor's Note: She wrote working girls that way) took off but I woke up with a start at 10:00. First time I've had a chance to sleep in for so long. In the afternoon went to a nearby town to do a little miscellaneous shopping. Had a date to meet one of the fellows from the camp here at 7:00 at the Red Cross in town. After it got dark I went up there and listened to some old records while I waited for him. Felt very conspicuous being the only WAC there, but it was better than running around the cold dark streets. A lot of the GIs there from other places have never seen a WAC. Some of them ask the dumbest questions. Some think all we do is clean barracks and do KP. A lot of them resent the stripes when they've been in the Army for years and are slicksleeves. (Editor's Note: not having any stripes, a private.) Surprising number think we should never have been sent over here for a lot of reasons. Anyway, my date arrived and rescued me so we took off for a bit of mild pubbing and so home. It never feels like a real pass unless I sleep away from the post, but it was a pretty good day. You probably won't receive this till next year, though I really can't believe 1944 is so near. Love, Hildie

Diary Friday, December 24, 1943. Marks Hall. Discussing skeleton crew for tomorrow. I drew morning off. Said I'd rather have the afternoon, answer NO. In afternoon Julie came in. Lt. Hulse let me off. Back to hut. Changed, met Paul and Scott and to Colchester. Had tea at the George. Then dinner. Drinks. Ride home in staff car. To midnight Mass. Scott waited in dispensary. Home and unwrapped Christmas packages. To bed at 4:00.

Diary Saturday, December 25, 1943. Marks Hall. Woke up at 10:00. Lovely turkey dinner at noon. Orphan party at Red Cross but I worked so got there when almost over. Lt. Peacock insisted on finishing a project before I could leave. Crazy 5:30-7:00 call from Scott. After mess to Red Cross and Paul found him. Paul, Stegura, Scott, and I to Coggie for beer. Home to day room in mess hall. Steamroller.

Diary Sunday, December 26, 1943. Marks Hall. Asked Scott for some time off. So home and did some washing. Mended stockings. Shined shoes. Then to Red Cross after 9:00 and met Scott. Walked back to day room. We stayed in library awhile. All talk, kidding around.

Letter home, Sunday, December 26, 1943

Dear Folks,

Had a nice little stack of mail today. You say you received the December allotment check. Are the bonds coming through OK, too?

And now here comes my Christmas report. The general said for Christmas all offices could operate on a skeleton crew, just so someone was there. Well, this is the way it worked out in my office. I was supposed to have Christmas morning off and work Christmas afternoon. I was getting a lot of persuasion from another gal, Julie, and two guys to go with them and celebrate Christmas Eve. All the other three were free at noon so I tried to get that afternoon off and said I'd work all day Christmas. To which I got a no, and I couldn't say nothin' but, All right, Sir. So here I was on the afternoon of the 24th sitting at my typewriter and brooding about the fact that tradition was going all to pot with me working that afternoon. In breezes Julie and says the fellows are rebelling and I'm holding up the whole works and they wouldn't go without me. So one of the officers says, What's the matter, is business interfering with pleasure? And I said, Precisely, Sir. And he said, What do you want? and I told him just the afternoon off. So he told me I might as well take off (I guess he could see I wouldn't be any good anyway) and that I could still have Christmas morning off. I got out of there so fast I was worried I'd get picked up for throwing an unauthorized smoke screen. So the four of us took off and went to a nearby town.

We got there in time to have to wait a couple of hours for the pubs to open, not that any of us ever touch any of this alcoholic stuff, but we just had to act like we knew what one should do on Christmas! So we passed the time away having tea. Then at 6:00 the official business began, that is, the pubs opened up. We went to a nice hotel for dinner and began exhausting their supply of liquor. Best thing we had was some cherry brandy. After several rounds of that, they wouldn't sell us any more. So we had to adjust our desires to the available supply and went to gin to sherry to creme de menthe. I skipped the last two. I'm tough but creme de menthe I can't stand under the best circumstances.

We were with a couple of Africans, a tech sergeant and a staff sergeant who had been there. They happened to notice a couple of friends there in the dining room who had a bottle on the table. They went over and pulled either rank or friendship, it's immaterial, so long as they got the result. Result: the friends came over and poured us a round from their bottle. It was some Egyptian cherry brandy. It was really delicious.

We had a merry evening, good company and good fun. Had a battle trying to get transportation back to camp but finally managed it and got back on time. And then I went to midnight Mass! There, I bet I got something you didn't unless they started them again back there. They had a wonderful choir, all soldiers including some officers. It was a high Mass. Besides chanting the regular Mass prayers, they also sang several Christmas carols. The fellows must have really put in a lot of time as the singing was excellent.

After Mass, when I got back to the barracks, the lights were still on so I decided then and there I would open my Christmas packages! After all, a girl can wait just so long. Let's see how much I can remember now.

The package from Santa Barbara was a beautiful light tan leather writing portfolio with Hildie stamped on it in gold. It's such a lovely thing that I'm thinking seriously of sending it home.

From Christine I got a useful box. Kleenex, bobbie pins, tea, a pair of stockings, lipstick tissues. From Annie, a box of Lucien Lelong honeysuckle soap, a lovely fragrance.

Then there was a box each from the Liquor Control Division and the Sales Tax Division. Both of them were lots of fun, just like a stocking full of prettily wrapped packages. They both contained assortments of cosmetics, chewing gum, candy bars, cigarettes. The LCD package had a box of pancake makeup in the shade I asked YOU for. Is that the result of conspiracy or coincidence?

From Johnnie, Kitty, and Maureen was a dandy cigarette lighter and a little flashlight. The flashlight is a honey, it really has a powerful beam for its size.

I left your package from home for last. Of course that one had been tampered with. I had removed the edibles. The delicious dates from Grandmother we had about two days before Christmas. That's a swell thing to send. They arrive just as fresh as they ever were and they're something different. This package I'm talking about now is the one in the cigar box. The pine nuts were a sensation. Ain't never seen none around here and it's amazing how many people are crazy enough to work on them. As for the wooly footsies, they'll certainly come in handy. Have been using my regular wool anklets to sleep in, but these will be perfect. I suppose little Cecelia knitted them. Girls all fascinated by the simple practical way they're made.

It was a swell surprise when I saw a photo folder with my initials stamped in gold on it and after that came a bigger thrill when I saw the pictures. That was really the perfect gift. That picture of you two in color, I just can't tell you how glad I am to have it. Now all that's missing is a picture of Bill. If you can't get him out in the daylight before the war is over, how about sending one taken before Lockheed? I've filled the rest of the sections from my own stock, so now there's Ted and Chubbie and Tex on the sands of Redondo Beach in there. It's a pretty complete little album EXCEPT FOR BILL.

By this time it was something like 4:00 a.m. and I decided I could turn over Christmas Eve as a complete success, and turn myself in to my little bunk which I did. I came to about 10:00 and came pretty close to having breakfast in bed. At least I had it in my pajamas. Had some cookies and fixed some coffee. That coffee you sent is the best. You don't have to boil it at all and it has good flavor. So in my blue and white checked GI flannels I enjoyed some of my own brew. It's times like that I'm glad I don't have to have cream and sugar. And yes, it was strong!

Got myself organized and dressed. Incidentally, in case you're curious, I wore my brown suit on Christmas Day! Went down to the mess hall and had a grand Christmas dinner. It was better than Thanksgiving. Yes, we lucky people had turkey and dressing and cranberry sauce again, and fruitcake for dessert. Then I finally reported for work.

The office I'm in happens to be, for no logical reason at all, located in the same room with an office which by the nature of its work has a movie projector. So we all sat down and saw Allen Jones and Gloria Jean in