World War Ii Letters Home

By Audrey Fahlberg

During World War II, as letters arrived from my husband, a frontline combat medic in Italy with the Tenth Mountain Division, I was given assurance he was alive. I had to believe, though letters often arrived two months after they were written. That letter home was the only communication available in 1944 and 1945 from the Italian front, and all letters and cards were censored.

Newspapers, radios, and newsreels at the movies told the world of the mountain peaks captured, rivers crossed, heroic details, lives lost.

That letter home held our hearts together during the war. Letters were often written on the surface of his helmet, on a rock, or a board, and on any writing paper that was available.

The letters home have been lovingly transcribed for easier reading because I wish to share them.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jun 27, 2015
• ISBN: 9781503543805

Audrey Fahlberg

Audrey Syse Fahlberg was born and raised in Blanchardville, Wisconsin, by Norwegian parents. She was married to Willson J. Fahlberg on July 30, 1938—a marriage that lasted seventy-three years. Mother of four children, she has four grandchildren, six great-grandchildren, one great great grandchild. She attended University of Houston, majoring in communication arts. And was initiated a member of Scholastic Honorary Journalism Fraternity Kappa Tau Alpha on May 3, 1966. Audrey has held membership in Women in Communication (Ladies of the Press), World Association of Women Journalists and Writers (AMMPE), Texas Society of Association Executives, American Advertising Federation, World Trade Club, International Business Committee of Houston Chamber of Commerce, and Traveler’s Century Club (traveled to one hundred fifty countries), published her newspaper, Convention Scene Houston, and headed her own corporation for more than thirty years.

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Copyright © 2015 by Audrey Syse Fahlberg.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2015902317

ISBN:      Hardcover      978-1-5035-4378-2

                Softcover        978-1-5035-4379-9

                eBook             978-1-5035-4380-5

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Rev. date: 06/17/2015

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CONTENTS

Letters 1936 - 1938

Postcards 1945 From Italy

Christmas Prayer

I Acknowledge

Author Bio

DEDICATION

I dedicate this book in memory of Willson J. Fahlberg Sr., with whom I shared letters, love, life, family, prayer, joy, tears, laughter, travel, word, poetry, dance, song, and a God-blessed marriage of seventy three years. Each day, we celebrated with this toast:

Salud, dinero, amor, y tiempo gustar.

Health, money, love, and time to enjoy.

Image%20Dedication.jpg

Will

1918 - 2011

LETTERS 1936 - 1938

Letters have always been important in our lives. In 1936, I was fourteen, Will was eighteen when we met for the first time. He wrote a letter to my mother asking permission to ask me for a date, then followed up with a phone call. Her answer was firm, but cordial: No, I am sorry. You are a university student, much too old for her. Letters arrived each week, telling of his work at the pea and corn cannery all summer, earning money so he could continue his studies. He told of himself and his best friends, John and Russ, fixing up an old car that was given to them. It has a rumble seat. We also have a dog named TAR. I shared all the letters as they arrived with my mother. The letters were funny and fun to read.

Then the letters arrived from Riverside, Illinois. He explained, I have a job with Universal Oil Products near Chicago as a petroleum chemist and I am learning so many new things. I will send my address if you wish to write to me. I did write, but I never sent the letter.

In 1937, my mother received a letter saying, I’m coming to Madison to spend Christmas with my family and at that time I would like very much to visit with you and your daughter. His phone call confirmed the visit, and he arrived at our home with a gift of an electric kitchen wall clock for my mother, a very expensive gift during the Depression. He had turned nineteen, was gracious and well-mannered. My mother noticed and approved of him at once. She gave permission for a dinner date if he agreed to bring me home right after dinner. Our first date was dinner at a fine restaurant on the Capitol Square in Madison. We had two hours of laughter, good conversation, food, and singing all the way home. I liked him a lot!

In 1938, letters were arriving every week from Riverside. I had his address, so I wrote, I enjoyed our time together when you were home for Christmas. I hope we can meet another time to laugh and sing as we did. The dinner was lovely. Thank you. The singing together was special.

A letter arrived telling me, I’m sorry I am unable to come to Madison for the summer. I must continue working here so I will be able to have money to get back to the University eventually. I have been saving regularly but I need more time to have what I need.

Friends of my parents had a son visiting them. He was a professor at Northwestern University in Evanston, Illinois. He told my parents, I have a friend, Dr. Bauer, dean of engineering at Northwestern, who is in need of a summer helper in his home. His wife is an invalid. I have noticed that your daughter Audrey is mature and capable. Would you consider her accepting work in their home for the summer? Evanston is a lovely community, safe, and our home is close to the Bauer home.

My father said, Let us discuss this with our daughter, and we will let you know before you leave for Evanston. She will be sixteen in July and may decide for us.

I left for Evanston the week after school let out for the summer. I decided to stay and register for acceptance at Northwestern University in Evanston. In the meantime, a letter from Will came for me at the Bauer home, saying, Hi, I want to show you the wonderful museums we have in Chicago. Here is my phone number. Please call if you are interested. If I am at work, you may leave your message with my landlady, Mrs. Henderson. Perhaps next weekend I can come for you early on Saturday. We’ll spend the day in Chicago. What say?

Every summer Saturday, we rode the Ls (elevated trains), saw all of Chicago, attended musicals and the theater. We celebrated my sixteenth birthday, Will’s twentieth birthday, fell in love and eloped on a Greyhound bus to Dubuque, Iowa. We were granted a marriage license. We were married on July 30, 1938, by a jolly justice of the peace who kissed the bride and wished us love forever. It was the beginning of a God-blessed life—a marriage that lasted seventy-three years.

In 1944, we had six years of love, a daughter four years old, and we were expecting our second child. We had a small savings account and an income of $200 a month. As a petroleum chemist, my husband provided well, but our lives changed abruptly when he received a letter from the president of the United States telling him to report for induction at 8:00 a.m. on the twenty-ninth day of June 1944. He became a combat medic with the ski troops, the Tenth Mountain Division and left for war in Italy.

When he left for the army, he wrote to us every day, except when he was traveling or in quarantine and could not write. When we were in Abilene or Austin, Texas, and later when he was on his way to Italy, there was a brief period when no letters were written. Letters became more important in our lives as that was the only method of communication from the Italian battlefields. The war department had a ruling that all packages mailed overseas had to be accompanied with a letter from the soldier requesting the articles to be sent. The US Post Office could not mail any packages without the letter of request. Often this was difficult because letters arrived with requests as late as two months after being written. Letters were always censored, and sometimes words were blocked out for unknown reasons. Each letter home was precious. When letters arrived, I had to believe he was alive. I saved every one. Sometimes they were difficult to read, so I have lovingly transcribed each one for easier reading. I want to share them. These letters held our hearts together during World War II.

WORLD WAR II LETTERS HOME

6-29-44

Dear Audsie and Karen,

We have had supper chow. I’m assigned to Barracks A for tonight. Tomorrow after we are inducted, I’ll be assigned to a different barracks. Dinner was pretty good—roast beef, beans, potatoes and gravy, bread and butter, butterscotch pudding and coffee. Actually, the truth is it sounds better than it was.

The Berwyn Induction Board gave us a nice send-off. They gave us a Bible, paper, envelopes, pencil, soap, 50 cigarettes, address book, matches, and comb.

There have been so many coming in the last few days they haven’t been able to handle them all. This afternoon about 3 o’clock, they finally got yesterday’s inductees taken care of. Most of the fellows come in and get sent right out as soon as their quarantine is over. I had hoped to surprise you by coming home for the weekend, but they stopped all weekend passes. I had hoped to surprise you. I love and sorta miss you in a bad way, kids.

Your dad and husband,

Will

P.S. Hugs and kisses for you both

XXXXXXXXXXOOOOOOOOOO

6-30-44

Dear Audsie and Karen,

Well, officially I am now a member of the Armed Forces—a buck private, sweets. This afternoon I get my uniform. Saturday and Sunday I am in quarantine. Honestly, I am enjoying it so far, except I can’t get it through my head this isn’t just a short vacation and I’ll be back to see you both soon.

Today being Friday, we had no meat. We had fried fish, spinach, potatoes, cottage cheese and pineapple, bread, butter, coffee, and for dessert, damson plums.

Breakfast today comprised of orange, scrambled eggs, coffee, toast, jam, doughnut, and milk. There was oatmeal, which I didn’t take.

This afternoon we take an IQ test, and tonight we see pictures and hear the chaplain. Yesterday we got a barracks bag containing two towels, raincoat, big enough for all of us together! I’ll show it to you someday (soon I hope). Also we got a toothbrush, razor, and blades in a Bakelite kit.

About 50% or better of the fellows are married and have children. It’s surprising how many are over 26 years—one half, I think. One chap has five children, and some have two or three. We can’t send mail for two days now, chums. The orderly in charge just informed us we’ll be able to send mail in three days and not before. I’ll send mail as soon as I can. Well, sweethearts, that’s all for a while.

Your ever-loving husband and father,

Will

P.S. Hugs and kisses for my chickens.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

July 15

Dear Auds and Karen,

This will be a short letter as I’m awful tired. We got here about noon and had to march, do push-ups, carry fellows for 100 yards, run for 300 yards, do chin-ups, etc. The temperature is 110°, and we’re in the sun all the time. Please send sunglasses. This Texas is hell. We are in quarantine for two weeks, so I’ll write later. Don’t send money order. Just put it in a letter. Golly, how I miss you, my sweethearts. I guess it will be 6 months or better before I see you.

Damn it.

Love,

Will

7-16-44

Dear Auds and Karen,

My darlings, as the days pass slowly by, I miss you kids more and more. I’m afraid 17 weeks are going to pass more slowly for me than for you. We’ve our evenings from 5:30 p.m. off for studying, showers, etc. Today, the schedule 8–10 orientation, 10–11 close order drill, 2–3 physical conditioning, 3–4 map reading, 4–5 close order drill, then retreat. They keep us busy. Frankly it doesn’t look too hopeful to get out of the medical corps. They need men badly. My IQ, they tell me, was the highest of Group I—the highest I’ve heard—but I don’t think it means much. The guys they are sending to OCS (Officer Candidate School) need only an IQ score of 110. My chemistry background and education keep me here in the medical corps.

Gee, chums, I hope everything’s going fine with you. Honey, take good care of yourself. It’s rather strange to hear of fellows whose wives are two-timing them. One fellow seems to know all about it. One fellow has 4 children, but he doesn’t believe any woman is any good. We argue with him a lot about it.

The drill and sand doesn’t make me half so tuckered out anymore. My face is still in the brilliant red phase.

I have already lost a shirt to somebody who borrowed it. I have to replace it. The water is beginning to taste better, although it is always lukewarm. We take 2 or 3 showers a day. The wind blows the sand so hard you honestly can’t see a half block away. It gets in all my clothes, down my neck, and on my sunburn. Well, sweets, I think I’ll close. I’ll write more tomorrow. It’s about time for lights out. I love you kids and hope to hear from you soon.

Your ever-loving husband and dad,

Willsie

P.S. Hugs and kisses for you and Karen.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Sunday Morning

7-16-44

Dear Audsie and Karen,

Well, we’ve had chow. I’ve washed my underclothes, taken a shower so I feel more human again. Camp Barkeley is located 12–14 miles from Abilene, Texas. The town nearest camp is View, with a population of roughly 100 people. The camp is