Post by QueenFoxy on Mar 26, 2018 18:34:55 GMT -6
May 17, 1945
Lieutenant Paul M. Zebler
USS Bates, ADP-47
C/O FPO
San Francisco, CA.
Sweetheart,
Because you are on a ship somewhere in the Pacific, I don’t know when you will receive this letter, but know that I wrote it on our son’s second birthday.
Yesterday, I ran into our classmate, Mary Mercer, at the grocery. Her brother Mike is on his way home from Europe. His Jeep turned-over and he was badly injured, but she says he’s going to be okay.
I promised you before you shipped-out that regardless of when you came home you would take Jared for his first haircut. I wanted to save a first for you because I correctly presumed you would miss Jared’s first steps and words.
I can’t keep my promise. Let me explain what happened.
Your Uncle Leo has been good to us. He allows Jared and me to live rent-free in his garage apartment. Still, I stretch your allotment check to its limit, and then to its breaking point every month. I owe Ramsey’s Market for two months’ worth of groceries. It’s hard to believe, but the price of gas is up to twenty-one cents a gallon.
I know you don’t want me to work; but to make ends meet, I had to take a job at the pants factory. You remember the dishcloth and towel factory in Wellston. The government converted it to the manufacture of military uniforms. I’m a final inspector.
The schools are only open four hours a day. The military requires so much fuel oil that the schools can’t get enough to open eight hours a day. That means the students are on half-day shifts. Your Cousin Fran goes to high school from 8:00 A.M. to noon. I work from 3:00 P.M. to midnight, so I hired Fran to babysit Jared while I am at work. Fran is a good kid, although I question her intention to become a nun. I don’t think it’s my place to confront her on that matter.
Paul, my insides hurt when I leave Jared to go to work because I know I am supposed to stay home and take care of him. I just don’t have a choice.
Yesterday, without my knowledge, Fran took Jared to Walt’s Barber Shop. She paid Walt twenty-five cents to cut Jared’s hair.
When I saw the result, I cried. All of Jared’s blond curls are gone.
I asked Fran why she did it.
“Because Jared looked like a girl,” she said. “People kept telling me how ‘cute’ my ‘daughter’ was, and I didn’t think you would mind.”
I’m sorry Paul. I am. I wanted you to take Jared for his first haircut. It’s this war. We can’t plan our lives. I’m just wearing down.
As tough as this war is on me, I know it’s a hundred times harder on you. I try to be positive because I don’t want you to worry about us.
Please know that Jared and I miss you. I lay awake at night thinking about you. Every night I ask God to bring you home to us.
I love you so very much,
Alma
May 17, 1965- My father never took me to get a haircut. He didn’t receive Mom’s letter. His ship, the USS Bates, was attacked by kamikazes on May 25, 1945, while transporting troops to Okinawa. Twenty-one sailors died.
Lieutenant Paul M. Zebler
USS Bates, ADP-47
C/O FPO
San Francisco, CA.
Sweetheart,
Because you are on a ship somewhere in the Pacific, I don’t know when you will receive this letter, but know that I wrote it on our son’s second birthday.
Yesterday, I ran into our classmate, Mary Mercer, at the grocery. Her brother Mike is on his way home from Europe. His Jeep turned-over and he was badly injured, but she says he’s going to be okay.
I promised you before you shipped-out that regardless of when you came home you would take Jared for his first haircut. I wanted to save a first for you because I correctly presumed you would miss Jared’s first steps and words.
I can’t keep my promise. Let me explain what happened.
Your Uncle Leo has been good to us. He allows Jared and me to live rent-free in his garage apartment. Still, I stretch your allotment check to its limit, and then to its breaking point every month. I owe Ramsey’s Market for two months’ worth of groceries. It’s hard to believe, but the price of gas is up to twenty-one cents a gallon.
I know you don’t want me to work; but to make ends meet, I had to take a job at the pants factory. You remember the dishcloth and towel factory in Wellston. The government converted it to the manufacture of military uniforms. I’m a final inspector.
The schools are only open four hours a day. The military requires so much fuel oil that the schools can’t get enough to open eight hours a day. That means the students are on half-day shifts. Your Cousin Fran goes to high school from 8:00 A.M. to noon. I work from 3:00 P.M. to midnight, so I hired Fran to babysit Jared while I am at work. Fran is a good kid, although I question her intention to become a nun. I don’t think it’s my place to confront her on that matter.
Paul, my insides hurt when I leave Jared to go to work because I know I am supposed to stay home and take care of him. I just don’t have a choice.
Yesterday, without my knowledge, Fran took Jared to Walt’s Barber Shop. She paid Walt twenty-five cents to cut Jared’s hair.
When I saw the result, I cried. All of Jared’s blond curls are gone.
I asked Fran why she did it.
“Because Jared looked like a girl,” she said. “People kept telling me how ‘cute’ my ‘daughter’ was, and I didn’t think you would mind.”
I’m sorry Paul. I am. I wanted you to take Jared for his first haircut. It’s this war. We can’t plan our lives. I’m just wearing down.
As tough as this war is on me, I know it’s a hundred times harder on you. I try to be positive because I don’t want you to worry about us.
Please know that Jared and I miss you. I lay awake at night thinking about you. Every night I ask God to bring you home to us.
I love you so very much,
Alma
May 17, 1965- My father never took me to get a haircut. He didn’t receive Mom’s letter. His ship, the USS Bates, was attacked by kamikazes on May 25, 1945, while transporting troops to Okinawa. Twenty-one sailors died.
