I'll Call It Like I See It

by sheila morris

storytelling for truth lovers

  • a man of letters (7) – absence makes the heart…


    Glenn at home in Richards, Texas before the war

    Remember the slightly underweight 18-year-old rural Texas boy who enlisted in the Army Air Corps in June, 1943 and wrote to his parents that he had to do “what I feel is right for me” following his enlistment? Eighteen months later, this 20-year-old young man horsed around with his Air Force buddies at a base near London, England – waiting for their first combat assignment. Thanksgiving had come and gone; now Christmas loomed large in their minds. They would be an ocean away from home during the holidays in 1944.

    Glenn (on shoulders) and his buddies

    On December 19, 1944, 2nd. Lt. Glenn L. Morris wrote this letter to his girlfriend Selma who was finishing her first semester at Baylor University in Waco, Texas.

    “Dearest Darling,

    I promised myself that I’d write every day to you once I got overseas. Do I do that? Not quite. We do have a pretty heavy schedule right at the present. That should be over with fairly soon. Then I’ll try to write every 2 days anyway. It’s just twice as hard to write now since you can’t say anything that might endanger our security here. Oh well, I’ll have a lot to tell you when I get back. I probably won’t tell you much then, cause we’ll have more important things to talk about. Me & you, for example. Selma, do you want a ring. I mean, you told me all the time you didn’t, so I naturally believed you so sincerely that it made me quite unhappy, if you remember. Anyway, I wouldn’t give you one unless I was there in person.

    There isn’t much entertainment for officers here. The food is good, I think. They don’t have much candy, however. That wasn’t so subtle, was it? If you can get any old beat up candy bars, ship them to your old daddy. Be a good baby cause I love you,

    Glenn”

    Meanwhile, back in Waco at Baylor University…

    Selma made new friends

    Glenn wrote another letter to Selma on December 22, 1944. He had marriage on his mind.

    “Dearest Darling,

    As the fog comes on little cats’ feet. (Where have I heard that before, oh yes ‘Fog’; Carl Sandberg). I’ve forgotten what romantic stuff I was about to give you. You’d be surprised at the sentimental thoughts I’ve been thinking anyway. By the way, will you marry me?

    Last night Dan and I played basketball. We played two games and won both. Some sort of league. All I know is I can hardly walk I’m so sore. Honey, do you think I’m getting old. I’ve told you about my mustache, haven’t I? If I haven’t, it’s really sharp. Of course, it is a shade blonde. I think you would like it. Most of my public does.

    Saw a show tonight, ‘Road to Frisco.’ It was pretty good. The title was ‘They Drive by Night’ when I saw it before.

    Well, Baby, outa space again.

    I love you,

    Glenn”

    On Christmas Eve, December 24, 1944 the Army Air Corps lieutenant wrote again to Selma.

    “Dearest Darling,

    As I think of all the Christmases past, my thoughts naturally are of you. You will always be associated with my pleasant memories. I have no memories other than good ones of you. In fact, I think of you as everything good. I’m not as good as you are, honey, in thousands of ways, but I do love you, if that makes up for any of my faults.

    Would you like to know how I’m spending Xmas eve? Well, the whole crew got together a little while ago & played poker. I never played poker you know before getting into the Army. I think I’m weaker in many ways than I used to be. Well, we sent the boys (enlisted men) after some little pies they can buy at their club. They should be back shortly. We have a pretty good time together.

    Darling, I’m anxiously awaiting your first letter. I’m sure you are writing and will never quit as I’ll never quit loving you.

    Merry Xmas, Glenn”

    Hm. Does absence make the heart grow fonder…or wander…

    Selma and a boy named Tommy at Baylor

    We’ll leave Glenn waiting for his first letter from Selma at Christmas with combat waiting for him just around the corner. His mother, father and sister Lucy celebrated Christmas in Texas, but both sons were worlds away so the mood was somber.

    Glenn and Ray’s sister Lucy (far l. and far r.)

    with their parents George and Betha

    Stay tuned.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

  • a man of letters (6) – love letters, that is


    While Glenn was in combat training in the Midwest, Selma was busy getting settled into her new life in Waco at Baylor University. Since her mother didn’t have a car and wouldn’t  even know how to drive one if she had it, Glenn’s parents volunteered to transport Selma and  her suitcases to college for the fall semester, 1944. Selma was seventeen years old at the time.

    Glenn’s daddy loaded Selma’s suitcases…

    …while both mothers hovered

    Louise (Selma’s mother) in the middle and Betha (Glenn’s mother)

    Selma and a friend check out local sandwich shop in Waco

    Glenn sent this Western Union telegram to his parents on November 15, 1944. He had planned to return to Texas for his 20th. birthday on October 06 (and his mother’s birthday two weeks later) – but didn’t make it home.

    “Am sorry couldn’t come home but only got four days. Don’t write to old address after Friday. Will write later. Love, Glenn”

    The two months of combat training concluded in November of that year, and The Crew shipped out to join the 8th. Air Corps in England. They made a brief detour for more maneuvers in Iceland before reaching their European destination near London. This was Glenn’s last letter before crossing the Pond. He wrote to Selma at the last minute, November 28, 1944.

    “Dearest Darling,

    As the snow lingeringly falls upon our unattractive barracks, I pause for a moment in my menial tasks to give my love to the only one in my life. There are times when you can’t help but be a little disgusted with me, because I am so unthinking and negligent.

    I am lucky to have someone waiting for me who is forgiving and understanding. I do appreciate it. That is one thing I have to look forward to, your waiting for me when I get back.

    Well, a little of what I’m doing. I’m expecting to leave as soon as the weather clears. I’ll probably go to the European theater of action. I’ll probably even get to see Ray. That’s just my idea. But my ideas are generally pretty good.

    We were to fly a mission today, but it started snowing this morning and hasn’t quit. We have to fly that mission before we leave. Oh well, the sooner, the quicker. I’ve already shipped my clothes over and part of them home.

    We were lucky enough to get a ship. Only 1/2 of the crews got ships.

    Dan insists I go with him to the PX. PX – PT what’s the difference?

    Be good, Darling.

    I love you,

    Glenn”

    The month of December was a long one for Glenn and The Crew who were now on a temporary layover in Iceland waiting for their first assignments. Glenn wrote letters to Selma who was finishing her first semester at Baylor. This one is dated December 07, 1944.

    “Dearest Darling,

    You’ve probably been thinking nasty things about me again, but I have a legitimate excuse this time. You won’t chastise me, will you? You’re a pretty good kid. I guess that’s why I love you. I know it’s not because you’re so pretty and sweet. Imagine your being sweet.

    Of course, I’m sorry. You wanted to know where I am. I’m in Iceland. Beautiful place. You’d love it, I’m sure. This is only temporary, however. Lucky me…You wouldn’t believe it, I’m sure, but I saw a good show today, Mrs. Parkington.

    Montana and Mort are no longer with me. Maybe they’ll get here soon. I miss them.

    I expect to be able to see Ray soon. I’d sure like to see the old fat boy. You know, it’s been a long time. Then, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen you.

    I’m sorry about Christmas, but you know how it is. I told Mama to get you something. All my love goes with whatever it is. Mama was laboring under the assumption that you wanted a ring. Set her straight, will you.

    Be a good kid and write often. More than usual.

    I love you,

    Glenn”

    “fat boy” Ray (l.) and Glenn in Richards before war

    Four days later, on December 11th. he wrote from England.

    “Dearest Darling,

    I am in England now. Enough said. Or that’s all I can say anyway.  I think I like it here all right. The food’s o.k. I see a cinema every day. I hadn’t seen “Cobra Woman” until  today. It wasn’t so good. I suppose you’ve seen it.

    I’ve seen several fellows I knew at Oklahoma A & M, Laredo, & San Marcos. Glad to see the old boys, renew acquaintances & what not.

    I haven’t seen much of England yet but really intend to when I get away from here. Too bad you are not here to see it with me. Some day we’ll be together again, just you and me. Can you think of anything more wonderful? Sorry – I can’t either.

    As I said in one of my previous letters, I’m sorry I can’t be there for Xmas. This will probably reach you about Xmas so here’s wishing you a Merry Xmas and sending all my love.

    Glenn”

    Waiting, waiting, waiting for that first assignment…

    Meanwhile, Selma made new friends at Baylor.

    Selma (l.) and girlfriends outside dorm

    Selma (2nd from left) on campus

    The Richards 2nd. Lt. was a long, long way from home like too many other soldiers were in the holiday season during World War II. He wrote four more letters to Selma in December including one on the 28th., a few days before his first bombing mission which was on New Year’s Eve over Germany in a city called Kassel where a subcamp of the Dachau concentration camp was located.

    We’ll save those for next time. Thanks for staying tuned.

    ***********************************

    Congratulations to the Charleston City Council for their apology on “Juneteenth” this week for the city’s participation in the institution of slavery. According to AP reporter Tom Foreman, Jr. the Council approved a resolution that is a “denouncement of slavery, a promise of tolerance in the future and a proposal for an office of racial reconciliation.” This is a positive step toward a healing process which I hope all cities will embrace. Bravo. I couldn’t be more pleased.

    The AP report quotes Councilman Gregorie: “It was wrong to enslave people, to treat them as chattel and sell their children and break up their families. Sound familiar? It’s happening today, folks.”

    Yes, sadly. Too sadly. People of good will must continue to press for a plan to reunite the families who have been severely damaged by those who have no regard for the worth of a human life or real respect for the “family values” they have campaigned on for years.

    As for the Secretary of Homeland Security Kirstjen Nielsen, I am trying to understand how you don’t know where infants and toddlers separated from their parents who are seeking asylum in our country are located. Seriously?

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

  • a man of letters (5) – training for combat…and love


     

    On February 02, 1944 nineteen-year-old Glenn sent a post card and letter from gunnery school in Laredo to his parents at home in Richards. The post card scene of the cotton field near Houston reflected a longing for the countryside of his boyhood in southeast Texas.

    “Dear Mama and Daddy, boys in this gunnery school are really sharp. We start our classes tomorrow so I’ll be busy from now on. This is just like the G.I. Army. Rules and restrictions. I’d like to see something of Laredo while I’m here, but not much chance of that. I will say it doesn’t look at all like our piney woods of East Texas. West Texas has no trees and lots of dust and wind. I don’t like it much. I’ll write more, and often. I love you, Glenn         Daddy, you write” 

    A letter dated February 10, 1944 soon arrived from his mother.

    “Dearest Glenn,

    We are very worried about you and Ray. You boys need to do better with your letters. You know you can do more than a little note every now and then…

    Remember that you are as smart as the other boys in that school out there. You may not be the Tallest, but you have a Good Mind, so use it.

    Mr. Wilcox came in the barbershop yesterday and asked your daddy about you. He and Esther are running the school on a shoestring these days with everybody all caught up in the War. Hard to get teachers. No money for books. I think your daddy gave him a free haircut and shave, but, of course, he wouldn’t tell me that.

    We’re hoping that Lucy and Terrell can get here this weekend. That Terrell is so fine. He’ll be leaving soon, too. I don’t think they know yet where he’s going for training.

    Take care, son, and stay Warm.

    We love you dearly,

    Mama and Daddy”

    On April 18, 1944 Glenn wrote to his sister Lucy, confiding in her about his growing feelings for Selma. He had finished gunnery school and then transferred to the Navigation School in San Marcos, Texas.

    “Dear Lucy,

    I wish you would write me sometimes. I miss our talks. I know you have time now that Terrell has left for training, so you have no excuses. I even hear from Ray every so often, and he’s already in England.

    I have definitely decided that Selma is the girl for me. Of course, I can’t tell Mama or Daddy yet. They would just pitch a fit. Can’t you just hear them?

    Glenn, you’re way too young to be thinking seriously about settling down with just one person. For the rest of your life. No, absolutely not the right time for that.

    Plus, they don’t think Selma comes from the best family situation. I’ve always admired Mrs. Boring for taking care of those four children after Mr. Boring died when they were all so young. I like all of her brothers, too. And, she’s not like the other girls I’ve dated. She’s so much more mature.

    Well, I’ll get my wings in August this year, if I pass everything. I like San Marcos much better than Laredo. The Navigation School is much more interesting.

    You have to make sure Mama and Daddy bring Selma to my graduation with them. I’m counting on you! Remember, this is our little secret.

    Your brother,

    Cadet Glenn L. Morris”

    Lucy

    He must have passed everything because on August 28, 1944 Cadet Glenn L. Morris, two months before his 20th. birthday, graduated from the Army Air Forces Navigation School at San Marcos Army Air Field, San Marcos, Texas. His parents, his sister Lucy and his girlfriend Selma Boring attended the graduation ceremony. Selma pinned his wings on the new Second Lieutenant’s uniform. It was a bittersweet occasion. Everyone knew he would be leaving soon for Europe and the dangerous war in the air.

    The Army Air Forces Navigation School

    San Marcos Army Air Field

    San Marcos, Texas

    of

    the United States Army

    announces the graduation of

    Class 44 -11

    on Monday morning, August the twenty-eighth

    nineteen hundred and forty-four

    at nine thirty o’clock

    Post Theatre

    handkerchief given to Glenn’s mother at graduation

    Glenn and Selma also had other news to discuss when they saw each other that commencement day. Two months earlier (June 20, 1944) Selma wrote a brief note to Glenn.

    “Dear Glenn, Guess what? My Uncle Clemmie, who is my father’s brother in Rosenberg, has offered to pay for me to go to college at Baylor Baptist in Waco this fall. So I am mailing my information to them to sign up for a dormitory room today. I never ever thought about going to Baylor. It might be fun.”

    Seventeen-year-old Selma graduated from Richards High School in May of 1944 and was about to become a “college coed” at what was then known as Baylor Baptist College. She gave Glenn the news before he saw her at his graduation in San Marcos. I would like to have been a fly on the wall during their discussion of that recent development. I wonder if my dad was happy for her or worried about possible competition from Baylor boys…

    college student Selma and her older brother Charlie

    who had enlisted in the Navy

    Following graduation Glenn was sent to Iowa to complete his combat training. A month after he graduated from Navigation School, he wrote this letter to his parents on September 27, 1944.

    “Dear folks,

    I might as well tell you right now not to expect too many letter from me cause I’m busy now, and that’s not the half of it. We fly every other day now, and soon we’ll fly every day. That may begin day after tomorrow. I’m really tired when I hit the sack. This morning I got up at 3 a.m. for a hi altitude bombing mission. We were to bomb from 20,000 ft. It sure is cold up there and oxygen is scarce. The mission was called off because of weather conditions. So the crew went down and played basketball. That is Floyd, Dan, Frank, Tommy and I did. We played another crew and stomped them. I guess I’d better give you the crew’s names. They’re the boys I’ll probably go over with. They’re a good bunch of fellows. I’m older than one boy on the crew – radio operator – Tommy.

    The Crew

    Dan Randolph – (1st Pilot) , New Jersey, Airplane Commander, 2nd. Lt., Frank Purvis – (Co-pilot) Pilot Lt. – Colorado, Morris, NAV – 2nd Lt. – Texas, Floyd Yates – Bombardier – F/O Brooklyn, Al White – Engineer – Cpl, Tommy Lang – Radio Operator – Cpl, Spencer – Upper gunner – Pfc,  Holley – Armorer – Gunner – Sgt, Richards – Sperry Ball Gunner – Pfc, Klepps – Tail Gunner – Pfc

    That’s the boys, and they’re all o.k. We’re gonna take some pictures of the crew by the Fortress. That’s our plane’s name. They should be good.

    I’ve about quit going anywhere now. I guess the new has worn off of being able to go somewhere any time you’re off. I went to the Post Theater tonight. I enjoyed myself. Well, folks, this isn’t very interesting so I’ll close.

    I love you,

    Glenn

    Send those gloves, will you, Mama?”

    combat training in Iowa in 1944

    (Glenn third from right, kneeling)

    Training days were grueling but had to be to give the young men their best opportunity for survival. Soon “The Crew” would ship out to England to join the 8th. Air Force.

    Stay tuned.

     

  • a man of letters (4) – the boys go to war


    On June 27, 1943, Glenn delivered bad news to his parents.

    “Dear Mama and Daddy,

    I know how upset you are about my enlisting this summer, but I have to do what I feel is right for me. I’ve finished two years at Lamar College, so I’ll have a good start on my degree when I get home. I want to be the best teacher I can be – just like Mr. Wilcox and Miss Helen McCune and all the others in Richards.

    But, I couldn’t stay in college with Ray and everybody else I know going off to fight the Nazis. Even Terrell has signed up for the Navy. Lucy is going to be awful lonesome without her two best guys taking care of her.

    I promise you both that I’ll come home safe and sound, okay? Daddy, I’ll be able to make your birthday next month before I have to leave. I’m not sure what assignment I’ll have to start.

    Your son,

    Glenn

    P.S. A funny thing happened when I went to enlist. The recruiter told me I was too skinny to be accepted into the Air Force. He told me to go home and eat as many bananas as I could and come back to weigh. I ate so many bananas I was sick, but I weighed just enough to get in.”

    George Morris and his two sons plus one in Richards

    (l. to r. ) George, Glenn, Ray, Terrell

    Glenn, the self-proclaimed college man, was 18 years old – short and skinny –  when he stood in the summer heat in June of 1943 with hundreds of other Texans as the long lines inched toward the door of the recruiting center in Houston. His older brother Ray had joined the Air Force a few weeks earlier at this same site.

     Brothers Glenn and Ray

    both chose to serve in the Army Air Corps in WWII

    On July 19, 1943, Private G.L. Morris sent a post card from his first assignment in Laredo, Texas at gunnery school.

    “Dear Folks, Mama, I got your cake yesterday and it must have been pretty good. I got 2 pieces of it before the hounds ate it. They seemed to really enjoy it. Love, Glenn”

    My grandmother did the only thing she knew to do to help with the war effort. She baked a cake. (This was a great tradition she continued when I was in college.)

    On December 11, 1943 a letter came from HEADQUARTERS, ARMY AIR FORCES CENTRAL FLYING TRAINING COMMAND OFFICE OF THE COMMANDING GENERAL

    Mr. and Mrs. George Morris, Richards, Texas

    “Dear Mr. and Mrs. Morris,

    In a memorandum which has come to my desk this morning, I note that your boy has been classified for training as a Navigator in the Army Air Forces.

    In order to win this war, it is vital to have the best qualified young men in charge of navigating our bombardment airplanes. Upon them will depend in large measure the success of our entire war effort.

    The position of Navigator calls for a high degree of intelligence, alertness and coolness. Not only the success of the mission, but the safety of his crew-mates, depends on the speed and skill with which he performs his calculations. Men who will make good material for training as Navigators are rare. The Classification Board believes that your boy has the necessary reliability, character and mathematical aptitude.

    If he shows the progress we confidently expect of him, he will in all probability win his wings as a qualified Navigator. Considering the rigid requirements for this training, you have every reason to be proud of your boy today. I congratulate you and him.

    Sincerely yours,

    G.C. Brant

    Major General, U. S. Army Commanding”

    Private G. L. Morris

    Wow. Clearly General Brant had found his calling after a lengthy career in other areas of military service. I don’t mean any disrespect, but what must he have written to the parents of the pilots…and I do wonder if my grandparents were consoled by his letter on such grand stationery when the fate of both their sons was somehow connected to the stars on his uniform.

    Stay tuned for hot and heavy romance in Glenn’s letters to Selma beginning in January, 1944. Navigator training wasn’t nearly as fascinating as she was.

    ********************************

    I am deeply disturbed by the images I saw this morning of the detention centers on the border towns in the Rio Grande Valley in my home state of Texas. Since I am lost in the 1940s these days, the pictures are reminiscent of the children being separated from their mothers and fathers in concentration camps in Nazi Germany.

    I cannot believe this current policy is who we are as a nation. Neither Pretty nor I accept this inhumane treatment perpetrated in the name of the law of the land. Not our land. Not our laws.

    President Franklin Delano Roosevelt in his third inaugural address to Congress in January, 1941 outlined what he called the four essential human freedoms:

    “In the future days, which we seek to make secure, we look forward to a world founded upon four essential human freedoms.

    The first is freedom of speech and expression — everywhere in the world.

    The second is freedom of every person to worship God in his own way — everywhere in the world.

    The third is freedom from want — which, translated into world terms, means economic understandings which will secure to every nation a healthy peacetime life for its inhabitants — everywhere in the world.

    The fourth is freedom from fear — which, translated into world terms, means a world-wide reduction of armaments to such a point and in such a thorough fashion that no nation will be in a position to commit an act of physical aggression against any neighbor– anywhere in the world…

    Sometimes we fail to hear or heed these voices of freedom because to us the privilege of our freedom is such an old, old story.”

    America has been the voice and example of freedom since 1776. We have fought wars to protect freedom, to offer opportunity and hope for those who have no hope. The huddled masses are knocking at our door again in 2018. Let them in.

     

     

     

     

     

  • a man of letters (3) – prejudice by any other name is still prejudice


    While the war took center stage in everyone’s mind in 1942 and my dad noticed that his hunting and fishing buddies in Richards, Texas had a younger sister, apparently hormones were also raging in my dad’s brother Ray who would have been almost twenty years old in April of 1942 when he received a surprise letter in the mail from his mother. It was dated April 27th.

    “Dear Ray,

    Your daddy and I were tickled with your surprise visit this past weekend. You always have to work, and it was a treat for us to have you home for a whole weekend. I am pleased to see that your appetite is still good. I’ve never seen anyone love chicken and dumplings the way you do!

    Now, son, I need to have a serious talk with you about Geneva Walkoviak. I know that you had two dates with her while you were home. We can’t have you getting too serious about Geneva. And, I’m sure you know why. Even though she is pretty and seems sweet enough, the facts are that she is Polish and Catholic and those are two things that don’t mix in our family. You may not be able to appreciate the problems with that, but take my word for it. You stay with your own kind. Now, let’s leave it at that. I know you wouldn’t want to let us down.

    Try to make it home for your daddy’s birthday this summer.

    All our love,

    Mama and Daddy”

    Polish. Catholic. Prejudice takes twists and turns through the years, decades, centuries. The names change, but the sentiments do not. Polish people in Richards at that time had a distinct accent – they were often first and second generation immigrants who farmed the contrary Texas land. The children rode a small yellow school bus to the red brick schoolhouse in town carrying the hopes and dreams of their families in tiny brown paper lunch bags. The men and boys got their haircuts at my grandfather’s barbershop. Their money, as is always the case in prejudice, was evidently neither Polish nor Catholic.

    Today bigotry is often based on what language is spoken, skin color, or country of origin. Hispanic refugees and others seeking asylum in this country are subjected to inhumane treatment that is unacceptable to all of us who respect the values our nation was founded on: everyone is entitled to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. We do not separate children from their mothers and then put them in prison camps. We’ve done that before to African-American slaves whose families were ripped apart and scattered to the four winds. That is not who we think we are. That is not who we are, is it?

    Catholics – Jews – Muslims. The religion roller coaster ride continues with death-defying speed and mind-boggling ticket prices.

    What a tangled web we weave in a small rural southeast Texas community consumed by the thought of a war in 1942, and yet my grandmother decided to set aside time to write a letter to my uncle which sadly exhibited the same kinds of prejudice that created anti-Semitism in Germany which was the impetus for the war in the first place, where a name like Walkoviak and a pretty Catholic girl named Geneva could become the target of pointed prejudice.

    I am ashamed and saddened by this letter. I do not find it surprising, however, because I remember my grandmother as a wonderful strong funny woman – but flawed. She would have been 39 years old when she wrote that revealing letter to her son. I’m not sure her positions changed during the next forty-five years of her life. She agonized over voting for the Democratic candidate John Kennedy in 1960 because of his Catholicism, for example; but I do recall she relented in later years when her grandson, one of Ray’s sons, married a Catholic girl.

    My dad, on the other hand, must have been blissfully unaware of the family drama because three months after his mother’s letter to his brother, he wrote to his parents following a visit  for his father’s birthday on July 29th. His father turned 44 on that birthday. This letter is dated August 1, 1942.

    “Dear Mama and Daddy,

    It was good to be home for Daddy’s birthday this week. I’m back at work today, and the grocery store is still standing. And, I’m still stocking shelves. Talk about boring. At least, it gives me money for school and to help Lucy and Terrell with the bills. It’s hard to believe I’ve been in Beaumont for a whole year.

    The War is the big topic on campus and off. Doesn’t look like we’re doing very good against the bad guys. Daddy, you better go up to Washington and see Mr. Roosevelt. I think he needs some good advice for a change. You could get things going in the right direction.

    I didn’t see much of Ray while we were home. He spends a lot of time with Geneva Walkoviak. She’s the only one he likes to spend money on. Of course, I guess you didn’t see much of me, either. Selma and I went to see the same movie three times. I’m beginning to like her more than her brothers.

    Probably won’t be home again until Christmas. The classes are a little harder this year. But, you’ll see that my grades are hanging in there really good. I want you to be proud of me.

    Your son,

    Glenn Morris”

    Obviously my uncle Ray rejected his mother’s ultimatum and continued to date the pretty Polish girl who happened to be Catholic. That made me smile.

    Throughout 1942 the impact of the war came closer and closer to home as more  young men enlisted – teenage boys were leaving their farms, day jobs, and classrooms to join the armed forces. They would soon cross oceans by sea and air to defend their country from the Axis powers.

    Stay tuned

    Ray and his mama

    my grandmother