Indiana Oh Indiana

Sept. 7, 1945
Guam

Dear Mom and Dad,

     Here I am half way around the world again, and this time the war is over.  As soon as the Japs heard that the 367th was on a ship and on the way over here, they threw up their hands and surrendered.  I’m right as two rabbits about that too.

     How are you?  I sure hope everything is all right.  How did you feel when you heard the war was over?  Yes, I guess you did the same thing we did.  Some people went out and celebrated by getting drunk and getting into a lot of foolish trouble, and others stayed in their homes and thought of their boys in the war, just as those boys were thinking of them and thanked God that this was finally a thing of the past.

     I tried my best to find Eddie on the way over but didn’t find him.  I was told he was probably in Tokyo Bay waiting to protect the landing.  We made two stops before we arrived here on Guam, one at the Marshall Islands, and one at the Carolinas.  In both places I inquired about Eddie’s ship, but he wasn’t there.  Well, our outfit is breaking up.  Some of the men are leaving for Tinian Island tomorrow morning at five.  As far as I know now, I’ll stay on Guam for a while.  All of my buddies that I have been with since I came into the army are shipping out in all different directions.  Ed Skafish and Bill Haakinson, and Jimmy Scott and I are about the only ones who will be here, and we won’t be here long.  I hope to be home by February, but that is only my hope, maybe just wishful thinking.  I pray to God I’m home when the baby is born.  If I’m not, I know that you will see that Bonnie and the baby are taken care of for me.

     We haven’t received any mail as yet, and it looks as though we won’t for at least another week.  I sure hope I get a letter from you then.  I miss you both so very much.  Dad, I want to ask you again to forgive me for not saying so-long when you left for work that day.

     Tell Jesse and Bee ad Vi I’ll write within the next week.  I want to be assigned and have a permanent APO number before I write.  Now my APO is 234.  Tomorrow, lord knows what it will be.  My whole address will change within the next week.

     I guess I’ll have to close now, because it is getting dark, and we have no lights.  Our shower is a barrel on a platform with a spigot on it, and our helmets are our face bowls.  Nice place, Guam.  I wish they would just give it back to the Japs and send us home.  

     Well, bye for now.  Be careful, and God bless you both.  Keep writing to this address until you hear from me again.

      Your loving son,
          Elwood

p.s.  Tell my baby doll I said hello, and that I miss her.

YouTube video on Guam: 
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u6MXJMRYR4Q&feature=watch_response

Please circulate this to anyone you know, who may have had a dad, uncle, grandfather, or friend, who served in World War II. Let’s help solve the mystery of the World War II canteen cup!
 If you have any clues, please contact Tom Cushing via: my potomacriver@gmail.com

  Dad relates in this letter his excitement over the coming of his first child (me).  Can you imagine my deep feeling as I held this letter and others to read about my approaching entrance into this world?  Dad was far from Mom at this point and was worried about her, which is why he depended upon his parents to watch over Bonnie until he was able to get home.

The other issue for Dad at that time was that my grandfather, who held the highest office in his Masonic Lodge, wanted both his twin boys, Elwood and Eddie to become Masons as well.  From all I can gather, neither Dad nor Eddie was especially enthralled with the idea, except to please their father, but Grandpa B was very authoritarian and was one of those dads who felt entitled to decide everything from careers to whom his sons would marry.  I believe that both Eddie and my dad became experts at appeasing their father, sometimes through delays and distraction before going their own ways.  As far as I know, neither brother ever became a Mason.  How Grandpa B felt about this, I don’t know.  He always appeared to me as a very imperious man, and that demeanor was captured well in the Masonic picture in which he was wearing his tall silk hat.                                                                         

Grandpa Bolinger front center Masonic High Officer

2:20 P.M.

     Dear Mom and Dad,

     Please forgive me for not writing.  I wanted to wait until I could tell you about Bonnie and I being able to see our “little world of happiness” ahead.  I called her last night, and she said she had told you she is going to have a baby!  I knew she wanted to tell you first, so I waited.  Isn’t it wonderful? I’m the happiest, luckiest guy in the world.  I only wish I could be there with her.  This war is keeping us all from so much happiness.

     Dad, as much as it hurts, I guess I’ll have to wait to try to get into the Masonic Order until after I get back.  I know Bonnie will need all the money she will get from me.  It may be better that way, because when I come back and try for membership, if I get in, you can give me my degrees.  I know how you’ll feel when you read this, but honest, I don’t know what to do.  As far as I can see, I’ll have to wait. 

     I was so very happy when I called Bonnie, and she gave me the news.  Dad, if I can’t be there when the baby is born, will you and Mom go with Bonnie?  She thinks the world of you and Mom, and if I’m not able to be there, I know it will help if you can be there instead.  The way things look now, I won’t be there.  I won’t be able to be there with her to buy the baby clothes and won’t be able to be with her when she needs me most, just because of this damned army.  God, how I wish this war would end!  Well, I guess I’ve said enough about my own troubles.

     How are you feeling, Dad?  Bonnie said you were having your lower teeth extracted.  I hope you’ll feel better then.  I want to write to Bonnie again, and I’ll write you more often now.  Bye for now.  Be careful Dad.  I’m sorry I’ll have to wait to get into the Masons.  Write soon.

                                                                      Your loving son, 
                                                                            Elwood

Mom was probably more a romantic than Dad was, but she dreamed of a vine-covered cottage with a white picket fence, a porch swing and kids everywhere.  I was surprised to see that Mom and Dad wanted to start their little family by having a girl, followed by boys.  This explains the stupid doll that was already there when I arrived in 1946, but I’m not sorry she was around.  The photo here is of my sister’s first doll from 1953, but it’s like the one that was purchased in anticipation of the first child being a girl named Sharon.  The doll made a good punching bag and got thrown across the room quite often during my childhood sessions of releasing tension before she and all my other toys were inherited by my younger brother and sister.  I honestly think Dad was glad to start the family with a boy, and it’s probable that he had been going along with Mom’s wishes just in order to appease her.  That’s my guess (hope), anyway.

                                                                                                                    April 16, 1945
                                                                                                                    Monday afternoon

Dearest Mom and Dad,

     This is just going to be a short note to let you know that the sergeant and I are just fine, and I hope you and Dad are feeling tip-top.  A day never passes, that we don’t wish we could see you.  We miss you both so very much.

     Elwood and I are always making plans for the time when he becomes a civilian.  Naturally, like every other couple, we dream of the vine-covered cottage, children, and all the things that make life worthwhile.  We also decided that on Sundays you and Dad are to have dinner with us.  You can scream, pull your hair, and beat your heads against the wall, but we have made up our minds.

     It has rained for the past two days (dat-rat-it), but I still don’t see any May flowers.  Do you suppose somebody’s been kidding me?

     Madame, do you realize that in ten more days I will have been Mrs. E.J. Bolinger for four months?  Elwood and I had copies made of our marriage license.  I am sending one for you to keep for yourself.  I think it’s rather nice, don’t you?  

     Ah, through the window I can see one little Pussy Willow.  I will close for now.  Please let me hear from you soon.  I hope you hear from Eddie.  God bless you both.

                                                                                                       Your loving daughter,
                                                                                                                Bonnie B.