Army GI, Pacifist CO: The World War II Letters of Frank Dietrich and Albert Dietrich (World War II: the Global, Human, and Ethical Dimension)

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ARMY GI, PACIFIST CO

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World War II: The Global, Human, and Ethical Dimension G. Kurt Piehler, series editor 1. Lawrence Cane; David E. Cane, Judy Barrett Litoff, and David C. Smith, eds., Fighting Fascism in Europe: The World War II Letters of an American Veteran of the Spanish Civil War. 2. Angelo M. Spinelli and Lewis H. Carlson, Life Behind Barbed Wire: The Secret World War II Photographs of Prisoner of War Angelo M. Spinelli. 3. Don Whitehead and John B. Romeiser, “Beachhead Don”: Reporting the War from the European Theater, 1942–1945.

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ARMY GI, PACIFIST CO The World War II Letters of Frank and Albert Dietrich

Edited by Scott H. Bennett

FORDHAM UNIVERSITY PRESS NEW YORK 2005

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Copyright © 2005 Fordham University Press All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other—except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher. World War II: The Global, Human, and Ethical Dimension, No. 4 ISSN 1541-0293 Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Dietrich, Frank, 1914– Army GI, pacifist CO : the World War II letters of Frank and Albert Dietrich / edited by Scott H. Bennett.—1st ed. p. cm. — (World War II: the global, human, and ethical dimension ; no. 4) Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 0-8232-2378-7 (hardcover) 1. Dietrich, Frank, 1914—Correspondence. 2. Dietrich, Albert 1914 —Correspondence. 3. Dietrich, Christine—Correspondence. 4. Soldiers—United States—Correspondence. 5. World War, 1939–1945—Conscientious objectors—Correspondence. 6. Twins—United States—Correspondence. 7. Civilian Public Service. I. Dietrich, Albert, 1914– II. Dietrich, Christine. III. Bennett, Scott H. IV. Title. V. World War II—the global, human, and ethical dimension ; 4. D810.C82D54 2005 940.53'092'273—dc22

Printed in the United States of America 07 06 05 5 4 3 2 1 First edition

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For Frank and Christine, Albert and Mary— the Dietrich branch of the “greatest generation” who fought for freedom and democracy on the home front and overseas

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Contents

Acknowledgments

ix

Note from the Editor

xi

List of Abbreviations

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Introduction

1

Chapter 1:

1939–42: “Aren’t We Faced with the Choice of a Lesser of Two Evils?” 47

Chapter 2:

1943: “Crimes Against Humanity”?

Chapter 3:

1944: “Camp Life”

Chapter 4:

1945: “The Devastation and Destruction Is Positively Staggering” 145

Chapter 5:

1946: “The FOR . . . Is Realistic and Activist”

Appendix A:

Albert G. Dietrich, Sample Form 47

Appendix B:

Albert G. Dietrich, Request for Presidential Appeal by Conscientious Objector [June 1943]

89

124

283

309 317

Appendix C:

Daily Schedule and Rules for CPS Camps Administered by the Mennonite Central Committee 320

Appendix D:

Albert Dietrich to Frank and Christine Dietrich, 1986 Notes

327

Selected Bibliography Index

365

373

vii

324

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Acknowledgments

G. Kurt Piehler—the director of the Center for the Study of War and Society at the University of Tennessee at Knoxville and the general editor of the World War II Series at Fordham University Press—invited me to edit the Dietrich Correspondence and offered sage advice at every stage of this project. Many people provided information that helped me to annotate the correspondence. At Georgian Court University, I wish to thank Michael Gross, Linda Kardos, Lou McNeil, Mary Basso, Eduardo Paderón, Dennis Richardson, Claribel Young, and Edward Witman. Edward Sites provided information on the Dietrichs’ professors at the University of Pittsburgh and the history of the sociology department and School of Social Work at that institution. Arnold Krammer expertly answered questions about German POWs and POW camps. At Tulane University, David Clinton, Nancy Maveety, Robert Robins, and Ann Smith researched David Deener. At the Brashear Association, Lola O’Dea provided information about that organization. Ervin Stutzman clarified the history and name changes of Eastern Mennonite School (now University). Perry Bush elucidated the impact of World War II on Mennonite thought and practice. At the Air Force History Support Office, Yvonne Kinkaid provided information on Frank Dietrich’s units in the Philippines, the AAF’s command structure, the BC-640, and the policy of awarding service stripes. Dennis DuVall provided information on radio transmitters and the BC-640. Laura Neitzel offered leads on events related to Japan’s surrender. I wish to thank Gary Bachman, David Droppa, Annelies Hagemeiser, Mary Hart, and G. Olewson for answering e-mail queries. Librarians and archivists were invaluable. Once again, I relied on the Swarthmore College Peace Collection and its outstanding staff: Wendy Chmielewski (curator), Barbara Addison, Anne Yoder, and Mary Beth Sigado. At Georgian Court University, the librarians expertly handled interlibrary loan requests. I am indebted to Dennis Stoesz at the Mennonite Church USA Archives-Goshen, to John D. Thiesen and James Lynch at the Mennonite Library and Archives-Bethel College, to the Swarthmore College Peace Collection, and to Paul F. Whitman for assistance in illustrating the book. J. E. McNeil, the executive director of the Center for Conscience & War, kindly granted me permission to quote from Albert Dietrich’s National ix

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Acknowledgments

Service Board for Religious Objectors file. At Georgian Court University, the faculty development committee and Provost Eduardo Paderón generously provided funds to index the book. Several people read all or part of the manuscript. I am grateful to Paul Dover, Larry Gara, Kurt Piehler, Claribel Young, and Edward Witman for their valuable comments and suggestions. I owe a special debt to peace historian Lawrence S. Wittner and World War II historian Paul Zigo; both read the manuscript and offered detailed comments and much wise guidance. I wish to thank Saverio Procario, Robert Oppedisano, Helen Tartar, Chris Mohney, Loomis Mayer, Kathleen O’Brien, Mary-Lou Elias-Peña, and the others at Fordham University Press who have contributed to this book. I also wish to thank copyeditor Mindy Wilson for her keen eye. My largest debt is to the Dietrichs. Frank and Christine shared their memories and—in innumerable written communications and telephone conversations—patiently answered my persistent questions. Frank, Christine, and Mary Dietrich shared documents, additional letters, and photographs. Unfortunately, I never had the opportunity to talk with Albert Dietrich, who died soon after I started this project; sadly, Mary Dietrich died while the manuscript was in press. Finally, my appreciation—and my love—to Cathy and Julia.

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Note from the Editor

In the 1980s and 1990s, Frank R. Dietrich prepared a typescript edition of the correspondence. This typescript edition is not an accurate transcription; it often differs from the original letters. In most cases, the differences represent corrections of spelling and grammar; however, in places, Dietrich inadvertently left out passages or changed words—which occasionally altered the meaning of the text in significant ways. I used the original correspondence to prepare this manuscript; however, in several places, I could not locate the original letters and relied on his typescript copy. In all such cases, I notified the reader. Most spelling and grammatical errors have been permitted to stand without [sic]s or correction. In places, however, to ensure clarity, I have corrected spelling and grammar; in several places, I have also added a phrase. All editorial corrections and clarifications have been made within brackets. Lastly, in his letters, Albert Dietrich often placed several periods after the salutation (e.g., “Dear Frank....”). I have retained these periods; in such cases, the periods are not meant to indicate that text has been deleted. The entire Albert G. Dietrich and Frank R. Dietrich Correspondence, 1939–46 (Dietrich Correspondence)—along with related documents—has been deposited at the Swarthmore College Peace Collection. A copy of the Dietrich Correspondence has also been deposited at the University of Tennessee at Knoxville. The typescript edition is in my possession. —Scott H. Bennett

xi

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List of Abbreviations

The following abbreviations have been used when citing the Dietrich Correspondence, Frank and Christine Dietrich’s communications with the author, and the author’s interviews with other people. I have not used citations in the notes to the Dietrich Correspondence in order to reduce the length of the book and because the notes contain mostly general information. In most cases, Frank and Christine Dietrich provided the information about the Dietrichs and their family and friends; in a few places, such information was culled from the Dietrich Correspondence or from other sources. In most cases, information contained in the notes comes from sources listed in the bibliography. AGD AGD Papers AGD-NSBRO File CDD Dietrich Correspondence FRD FRD/CDD Papers NSBRO SHB SLD

Albert Giles Dietrich Albert G. Dietrich Papers Albert G. Dietrich NSBRO File Christine Dickey Dietrich Albert G. Dietrich and Frank R. Dietrich Correspondence, 1939-46 Frank Ryall Dietrich Frank R. Dietrich and Christine D. Dietrich Papers National Service Board for Religious Objectors Scott H. Bennett Sally Louise (Sally Lou) Dietrich

xiii

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Introduction

I was born a twin. My brother came from the same placenta twenty minutes after I made my first cries and gasped my first breaths of air. We came from the same egg, and developed together, almost simultaneously. We were nursed together, we slept together, we were carted together in a big, black baby-buggy. We learned to walk together, to talk together, to play together. We went to school together and eventually graduated from the University together. Later we took graduate work and each received his Master’s degree at the same time. I am now a Child Welfare Worker in the State of Nebraska, my twin brother is a Child Welfare Worker in the State of New Mexico. The fact that I was born a twin has had a profound influence upon the growth and development of my personality. —Albert G. Dietrich, 19421

I think our correspondence now may be valuable. Preserve the letters and some day we’ll put them together to see if they would be worth a publisher. —Frank R. Dietrich, 19432

But I also want to tell you something about my reactions to [rereading] those letters. They called up an enormous amount of feeling from the past. It was as though I were being transported back some 45 years in my life, and involved in that terrible emotional struggle again. I started to cry and couldn’t stop. . . . It was your letter to General Hershey that triggered my upset. It was a splendid letter, and it was simply that strong support from a soldier for a conscientious objector that got to me deeply. —Albert G. Dietrich, 19863

In order that you may understand the origins of the book, let me relate an incident that occurred several summers ago and prompted this book to be compiled. As was our custom, my wife and I were taking our usual evening walk. At the edge of the town on the airport road, Christine exclaimed, “What’s that?” and pointed to a large insect ahead of us on the other side of the paving. I went up to it and discovered it was a large praying mantis. It revived fifty-year-old memories of when I was a soldier in the Philippines. I had caught a large mantis [named Manty], put a thread around its abdomen, and tied it to the center post in our tent next to a light bulb, where it remained for weeks catching insects flying around the bulb, and finally laying a large cluster of eggs. My soldier friends and I were amused watching it devour parts of insects like we would eat a chicken drumstick; . . . I remembered that Chris had saved all my letters from the Philippines . . .

1

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I decided to select some of them in order to prepare a paper for the Men’s Study Club to which I belonged. In doing so, I sensed the possibility of their historical significance, and the men enjoyed my presentation so much, the project evolved into compiling them into a book. —Frank R. Dietrich, mid-1980s to early 1990s4

Despite their close relationship and frequently parallel lives, identical twins Frank Ryall Dietrich and Albert Giles Dietrich took opposite positions toward World War II. One became a soldier, the other a conscientious objector (CO). Drafted into the Army Air Forces (AAF), Frank trained as a radio operator and technician, worked as an army radio instructor in Wisconsin, and shipped to the Philippines in May 1945, where he expected to participate in the invasion of Japan. Conversely, Albert, a pacifist, refused to serve in the military, took the CO position, and served in Civilian Public Service (CPS) camps in South Dakota, Iowa, and Florida. Together, Frank and Albert typify the 16 million men and women who served in the armed forces and the 18,000 COs who refused to serve in the U.S. military during World War II to honor their pacifist convictions. (Yet another 25,000 COs performed noncombatant work in the armed services.) The Dietrich Correspondence (1939–46) provides valuable insights into the experience of GIs and COs. Besides offering a social portrait of a GI wartime marriage, parenthood, and military service on the home front and overseas, it illustrates the role that noncombat GIs played in the U.S. military effort.5 It also offers a neglected perspective on conscription, on the legal and administrative struggle that pacifists often had to wage to obtain CO status, and on the CO experience in CPS camps. Significantly, the Dietrichs’ letters— the first published correspondence between GI and CO twins or brothers— provide a unique narrative on World War II and the debate over armed force and pacifist nonviolence in an era of global war. From 1939 to 1946, Frank and Albert wrote at least 243 letters to one another. They wrote long letters detailing their views on war and peace and on military service and pacifist nonviolence. They discussed their wartime experiences in the AAF and CPS, Albert’s protracted legal battle to obtain CO status, cultural interests (particularly music and literature), girlfriends, family, travels, and their jobs as social workers. The Dietrich Correspondence also contains 270 letters that Frank and Christine Dietrich wrote to one another after their 1943 marriage. In addition, the correspondence includes nearly three dozen letters that Frank and Albert exchanged with their parents, mainly their father, and a few that they exchanged with other family members and friends. Letters make up the bulk of the correspondence, which also includes postcards, telegrams, and several documents reproduced in typescript.

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3

For this volume, I have selected 170 of the more than 560 total letters in the Dietrich Correspondence. Since Frank and Albert’s letters to one another do not provide a complete narrative of their wartime experiences, I have supplemented their epistolary exchange with letters written by Frank and Christine to one another, along with a few other letters and documents that appear in the correspondence or in other collections. After Frank’s marriage, the twins wrote each other less often; during the eight months that Frank spent in the Philippines—the most interesting period of his service—they exchanged few letters. But Frank did write regularly (often daily) to Christine. They packed their letters with professions of love, discussions of future plans, and the latest news or questions about their infant daughter, Sally Lou. Besides writing about his military duties, fellow GIs, camp life, and his social and cultural activities, Frank offered evocative descriptions of Manila, the Philippines, Filipinos, and his local trips and adventures. I have used these letters to relate his Philippine experience. Even though the Allies triumphed and the Axis nations were vanquished in 1945, the impact of World War II continued well beyond V-E Day and V-J Day.6 For instance, it spawned the postwar cold war, revolution, decolonization, the atomic age, and a myriad of worldwide social, political, and economic changes. Moreover, the demobilization of American GIs, though rapid, continued through 1946; similarly, many COs remained in prison or in CPS camps after 1945; and GIs and COs alike had to refashion personal and professional lives disrupted by war. The letters written by the Dietrichs from August 1945 through 1946 address this neglected aspect of the World War II experience. In 1946, they began to exchange letters regularly again; because Albert remained in CPS until August 1946, his postwar letters also shed important light on this program of alternative service. For the most part, I have not included Christine’s letters in this volume; furthermore, Frank’s letters to Christine that I did include deal mainly with his GI experiences and views on war and peace. Their letters do capture the experience of GI wartime marriage (marked by frequent transfers and separations) and parenthood (marked by distant GI fathers and mothers assuming even more responsibility for rearing children). Although I have included representative letters that shed light on wartime marriage, parenthood, and gender roles, for reasons of thematic focus and space I have mainly selected letters that highlight issues of war and peace and the twins’ divergent wartime experiences in the army and CPS. Moreover, there are many published collections of letters written by World War II GIs, and, more recently, historians have published letters written by wartime women (in uniform, in factories, and in homes).7 However, there are virtually no published collections of letters written by World War II COs.8 Thus, Albert’s letters detailing his tribulations with

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Selective Service, his struggle to win CO status, and his experience in CPS, along with his and Frank’s broader discussion of war and peace, make a contribution to the literature on World War II.

Prewar Prelude: Parallel Lives The twins were born in Pittsburgh on January 4, 1914. “It was an inauspicious year to be born,” Frank recalled, “when war clouds were gathering in Europe, culminating in the tragedy of Sarajevo and the outbreak of World War I.” Frank was named for his mother’s brother, who lived in Huntingdon, Pennsylvania. Frank’s middle name, Ryall, was the name of the physician who delivered them. Albert was named for his father’s brother, who lived one block away. Albert’s middle name, Giles, was the name of the Methodist minister who baptized them. In addition to their parents, their family included Louis, a brother eight years older, and Grace, a sister four years older.9 Their parents were Frank Adam Dietrich (1878–1950) and Louise Edwards Dietrich (c.1880–1941). Frank was a formidable, entrepreneurial, self-made man. A staunch Republican and a political and religious conservative, he was “stern and rigid in his thinking” but generous with his family. He was born in Ohio, where the Dietrich clan had settled when they immigrated from Germany. Reared in Pittsburgh, he quit school after the eighth grade and went to work in a grocery store. In 1902, Frank and his brother-in-law opened a grocery, which became the Frank A. Dietrich Grocery in West End when they dissolved their partnership two years later. Frank remained preoccupied with work and had few interests or diversions outside his family. Under his supervision, work and family were fused, since, except for Grace—who had household duties—the entire family helped out in the store, with Louise doing the bookkeeping.10 Born in Blackpool, England, Louise immigrated with her parents to the United States in the 1880s. She met Frank in a West End grocery where he worked before becoming his own boss. They married in 1902. Following her husband, she too was a Republican and a political conservative, though, unlike him, she developed cultural and intellectual interests. She was a member of the Women’s Missionary Society and a board member of the Ward Boyd Home, a Methodist orphanage. Peace was her “keynote to living.” Even amid the prowar hysteria of World War I, “Mother taught us kids to love and not to hate,” Albert recalled. “You should even love the Kaiser,” she insisted.11 Frank and Louise had a strong marriage cemented by love, work, family, and religion—though church issues also created a rare note of discord. A Presbyterian, Frank supported, through his attendance and donations, a

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Methodist church because of his wife’s affiliation. However, during the Depression he severed his relationship with the church after the minister asked him to raise funds to purchase a car for his personal use. Believing that she should support her husband, Louise reluctantly cut her ties with the church, though she later confided that it was a “severe blow” to her marriage. Still, they continued to support the Ward Boyd Home—with Louise serving on the board and Frank supplying groceries on special occasions.12 Economically, the Dietrichs were part of the “substantial middle class”— the upper one-third of West End. During and after World War I, their father’s grocery business prospered. He soon had a “little capitalist empire”—owning his store, five houses, and a piece of commercial property.13 The Dietrichs enjoyed all the essentials and some luxuries, including an automobile in which they took regular Sunday trips to the countryside. In 1923, they moved from a modest old Victorian into a large newly built house. But the stock market crash and Depression transformed the Dietrich’s grocery business. Frank A. Dietrich suffered severe losses in the stock market. In 1933, with business declining and three months behind on the store’s rent, he closed the storefront—but remained in business. Until his death in 1950, he operated a neighborhood grocery out of the basement of the Dietrichs’ house. Despite his financial losses, he managed to put his children through college.14 Socially, the Dietrichs’ West End enclave was a “boiling” melting pot. Writing during World War II, Albert offered a memorable social portrait of his neighborhood. The Dietrichs lived on Church Hill in a commodious house on a two-block red brick street lined with maples—a Methodist-dominated “protestant stronghold” located at the height of a narrow valley populated by a multicultural community. A series of 216 wooden steps and landings provided a shortcut to the valley below—and to the “Niggers,” “Dagoes,” “Hunkies,” Germans, and Catholics who resided on the slopes and the valley floor. “Occassionally [sic], a fiery cross burned on the barren hill across the valley, a warning to the ‘Niggers’ and Catholics,” Albert recalled. He went on to describe the cultural, economic, racial, and religious conflict that shaped his neighborhood and valley: We called the kids who came up from the valley “fun spoilers.” We hated them with their dirty, ragged and sometimes odd-looking clothing; with their stinks of garlic and onions and foreign spices. They were filthy and tough, they smoked cigarettes and swore; they talked Polish, Italian or German mixed with English. We were suspicious because we could not understand. They were an element with whom we did not associate. To us they were not Americans. When they came up from the valley below we jeered them and chased them back if they were weak and few in numbers.

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But when they were our equal we were afraid of them and ignored them or ran away ourselves. Occasionally [sic] we let one or two filter into our play groups. Once two “Niggers” drifted in and eventually were accepted wholeheartedly by our gang. But those who were allowed to come up out of the dirty valley were considered “different.” The scum still stayed below. We were smug and self-righteous on our high, tree-studded perch above the smoke-belching factories, the shifting freight trains, the dangerous, fastmoving, noisy traffic. We were better than they. We were exalted Americans.15 Although Frank’s recollections of his family’s attitudes are more benign, they nevertheless indicate a paternalistic, biased attitude toward blacks and immigrants. He recalls that blacks were accepted but “in their place.” The twins had a good relationship with a long-term black employee. According to Frank, his family never ridiculed immigrants, and his father dealt with Jews in the wholesale grocery markets and considered them friends. But when customers asked for discounts on groceries, he also recalls his father replying: “I don’t have a drop of Jewish blood in my veins.” Both Frank and Albert would later reject the cultural racism that marked their childhood environment. In Frank’s relationship with Nazis, Navajos, and Filipinos, in Albert’s opposition to Jim Crow, and in their common social work profession, they embraced a multicultural America and world.16 Members of a close-knit family, the twins were involved in various chores, activities, and routines. To help their father, they swept the store, delivered groceries, and slaughtered and dressed chickens and turkeys. Steeped in religion, they considered themselves “budding ministers” and preached to one another. Both parents encouraged them to appreciate music. At their mother’s insistence, they began violin lessons at age nine, and they continued to play throughout their lives, though Frank later switched to the viola. Their father bought a windup Victrola and console radio, which became important fixtures in the home. On Sunday mornings the family awoke to opera or orchestral music, which their father played on the Victrola. Radio was also a shared family experience. After dinner, the entire family often listened to radio newscasts about the Depression and labor strikes. Most memorable, however, were their summers in Chautauqua.17 Beginning in 1921, when the twins were six, the Dietrichs summered in Chautauqua, New York. The year after visiting their Uncle Albert’s summer cottage at Point Chautauqua, their parents rented (and later purchased) a cottage in Chautauqua town in order to participate in the Chautauqua Institution’s cultural and religious activities. Life in Chautauqua marked a “turning point” for the family and provided a formative influence on the

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young twins. Louise’s involvement in Chautauqua’s cultural activities broadened her horizons; in turn, she stimulated Frank and Albert’s lifelong interest in music, books, and ideas. Her reaction to the Scopes trial—and the debate over evolution—demonstrated Chautauqua’s impact on her intellectual development. Unlike her husband, who declared that “anyone who believes that we came from monkeys is a monkey himself,” Louise—influenced by Samuel Schmucker, a prominent evolutionist who lectured at Chautauqua— embraced evolution. At Chautauqua, the twins attended opera, plays, symphonies, lectures, nature studies, and religious meetings. They swam, canoed, hiked, and, with their father, rowed for miles on the lake. To earn money, they hauled luggage, mailed letters, and delivered messages for guests and local residents.18 For Frank and Albert, being identical twins both offered emotional comfort and engendered psychological dependency. Except for a birthmark on Frank’s right buttock, the twins were nearly identical in appearance; even their father sometimes confused them. From childhood into university, they were inseparable. Their parents, who encouraged them to look and act the same, dressed them alike until about age seventeen, when they started to dress differently.19 Gradually, their personalities were “integrated and fused.” Later, Albert observed that their “mutual dependency” had triggered their “struggle for independence and emotional and intellectual maturity.” A psychological interpretation may not explain their divergent responses to World War II, but their separate paths during the “good war” marked an emancipation—even though the process toward psychological independence had started before the war.20 High school (grades seven through twelve) was a time of personal, social, and intellectual growth, experimentation, and independence. During their first two years of high school, three circumstances led the twins to discard temporarily much of their religious belief. First, from seventh to ninth grades, the Pittsburgh education district collected twenty-five cents from each student to aid starving children in Armenia. By the time the twins reached ninth grade, they “wondered how God could allow children to starve for three years. It didn’t seem merciful.” Second, Pennsylvania law required that the school day begin with a Bible reading, a mandate that prompted an antireligious response by the twins. In the tenth grade, their first-period teacher—the one assigned to read the Bible—was their science teacher. Although he read the Bible in compliance with the law, he sometimes told the students that other religions and holy books existed, which led them to conclude that many gods—or perhaps none—existed. Third, the study of Greek mythology in English class and the realization that the Greeks also believed in their gods led them to conclude that the Bible, too, consisted of myths. For several weeks, they proclaimed

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their short-lived atheism.21 While much later Frank and Albert would become atheists, during the World War II era both twins believed in God, though they—particularly Frank—often adopted an independent stance toward organized religion and received theology. In high school, Frank and Albert, influenced by Jack Rothweiler, a liberal friend who argued that Republicans supported the rich, developed a liberal political philosophy, read the Nation and the New Republic, admired both Franklin and Eleanor Roosevelt, and became lifetime Democrats. In 1936, in their maiden presidential election, they voted for FDR. Displaying a more radical bent, in 1933 Albert briefly joined the Young People’s Socialist League, the Socialist Party’s youth organization.22 Although their Republican parents probably hoped that Frank and Albert would outgrow their liberalism, they never criticized their sons for their views.23 After taking two years of Latin together, Frank studied German and Albert took Spanish during their last two years of high school. When his German teacher circulated the names of potential German pen pals, Frank initiated a long-term correspondence with Friedrich Metz, who lived in Weinheim, Germany. In 1932, Frank and Albert graduated from Langley High School.24 From 1932 to 1936, Frank and Albert attended the University of Pittsburgh. At brother Louis’s suggestion, they enrolled in the Reserve Officers Training Corps. But they also participated in the YMCA, whose antiwar and pacifist members influenced the twins’ decision to drop ROTC after their second year.25 After repeatedly switching majors, they settled on sociology in their senior year and decided to continue their studies at the university’s Graduate School of Social Work, since this field offered the “brightest prospects” for employment, an important concern during the Depression.26 During the summer of 1935, Frank studied in Germany. His German professor at the University of Pittsburgh distributed invitations from the German government to attend a summer course at the University of Munich. His mother and brother Louis raised the necessary five hundred dollars. Later, Frank surmised that Louis—who thought that the twins should be separated more often—helped persuade his mother to grant permission. In Munich, Frank took courses on German culture. British and American students tried to discuss Nazi policies, but the professors refused to talk politics. But Frank did observe Julius Streicher, a prominent Nazi anti-Semite, deliver an inflammatory lecture at the university. Outside academia, he also witnessed pervasive antiSemitism, including town signs proclaiming, “Jews are not wanted here.” 27 In Germany, Frank spent a week with his German pen pal, Friedrich Metz, an ardent Nazi. Metz’s friends repeatedly asked, “How do you like Germany?” Frank replied, “The country is beautiful, but I do not like the gov-

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ernment.” On one occasion, Frank declared, “I have Jewish friends and they are just as good as you.” When in response one of Metz’s friends—a Nazi Brownshirt—prepared to slug him, Frank added—“and I.” These words— and Metz’s intervention—forestalled a brawl. One night at dinner Frank remarked, “If Germany invades England, America will immediately help her, and Germany could not possibly win a war against both nations.” “Nein, nein!” the Metzes replied, shaking their heads in disagreement.28 Frank’s German summer laid the foundation for the twins’ divergent wartime paths. Direct exposure to Nazi militarism, authoritarianism, and anti-Semitism deepened Frank’s awareness of fascism’s evils, “tempered” the YMCA’s “pacifistic influences,” and strengthened his conviction that Hitler could not be defeated with nonviolent methods. No comparable experience challenged Albert to question his pacifism, which was reinforced by his relationship with the Penners, a pacifist family with whom he roomed in Nebraska from 1940 to 1943.29 Frank’s trip—their first prolonged separation— had another influence on the twins’ development: they discovered that they were not “dependent” upon one another for happiness.30 In 1936, Frank and Albert enrolled in the Graduate School of Social Work at the University of Pittsburgh. While working on their master’s degrees in social work (MSW), they were required to complete field training with social agencies.31 Meanwhile, Albert began applying for jobs in the West. In 1938, a year and a half into his graduate program, he accepted a position with the Family Welfare Bureau in Sioux City, Iowa, a move that led to his second major separation from Frank. Frank remained in Pittsburgh, where he worked for the Allegheny County office of the Pennsylvania Department of Public Assistance.32 Despite regular correspondence and occasional visits, Frank and Albert grew increasingly independent between 1938 and 1941, in part because they had fewer direct opportunities to discuss ideas with one another.33 It was not a complete break, however. In 1940, after Frank and two friends met up with Albert in Sioux City, the group camped throughout the American West, which instilled in the Dietrichs a deep love of the region. Later that year, Frank informed Albert that he would receive his MSW degree in June 1941. This prompted Albert to obtain a leave of absence and return to Pittsburgh to complete his degree and graduate with Frank.34 “Evidently, our sibling rivalry was still intact,” Frank later observed.35 After earning their MSWs, they took another Western trip together; in Santa Fe, Frank interviewed with the New Mexico Department of Welfare. Less happily, in October 1941 the twins would spend a week together in Pittsburgh when they returned to attend their mother’s funeral.36 Shortly after returning to Iowa with his MSW, Albert took a better-paying job in Beatrice, Nebraska. In August 1941, in Beatrice, Albert moved in with

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the Penners, a pacifist Mennonite family who provided room and board and became his lifelong friends. Significantly, both the Penners and the Mennonite community in Beatrice strengthened his pacifism.37 In late August, Frank accepted a position as a child welfare worker in Gallup, New Mexico. The next day he received his draft questionnaire along with news that he would probably be inducted within two months. Worried— even frantic—that he might lose his job, Frank reported his dilemma to his Pittsburgh draft board that evening. The following day, his draft board advised him to take the job in Gallup but told him to remain in contact in case his draft status changed. Frank was fortunate. Apparently, a member of the draft board had noticed that Gallup was located in McKinley County, home of Fort Wingate, and assumed, incorrectly, that Frank would be serving army families there. When Frank arrived in New Mexico, he learned that Fort Wingate no longer existed as an army base; in 1925, it had been transferred to the Bureau of Indian Affairs to provide a boarding school for Navajo and Zuni students.38 Frank and Albert’s letters were culturally literate and revealed a considerable knowledge of literature, music, art, architecture, and other forms of expression. Frank shared news about his viola lessons, reported on his participation in the Pittsburgh Music Institute Orchestra and the Bach Choral Society, critiqued classical recordings and concerts, and commented on books that he read. He praised films such as The Grapes of Wrath, Of Mice and Men, and All Quiet on the Western Front. Similarly, Albert notified Frank when he joined (and later served on the board of) the Sioux City Civic Chorus and took classes at the Sioux City art center. They subscribed to the “record-of-themonth” club and exchanged records. In their letters appear references to Bach, Glinka, Paul Whiteman, Beethoven, Dietrich Buxtehude, Haydn, Mozart, Sibelius, Prokofiev, Dvoˇrák, Brahms, Tchaikovsky, Mendelssohn, Rudolf Kvelve, Arcangelo Corelli, Benny Goodman, and Negro Sinful Songs. They read widely—and Frank read in German. For instance, on war and peace, Frank recommended Eric Knight’s This Above All (1941), a story of a soldier turned CO, while Albert read Allan Hunter’s White Corpuscles in Europe (1939), an account of contemporary European pacifists.39 Both before and after Pearl Harbor, Frank and Albert discussed and debated the issues of war vs. peace, armed force vs. pacifism, and military service vs. conscientious objection. Albert repudiated military force, defended pacifism, and advocated nonviolent alternatives and Christian love. Frank, who held that pacifism was utopian against Nazi and Japanese armed aggression, argued that war, regrettably, was “the lesser of two evils.”40 Amazingly, their correspondence contains little on the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, perhaps because they discussed this dramatic event by telephone. Writing his father two days after Pearl Harbor, Frank, an apparently reluctant warrior,

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declared: “I still can’t condone war and I can’t picture myself pulling a trigger to kill some innocent Japanese boy. But my respect for democracy can carry me to great lengths for its defense. I certainly am ready to do my part.”41 Despite his antiwar and antimilitaristic sentiments, Frank never considered becoming a CO or joining a pacifist organization such as the Fellowship of Reconciliation, but he respected both.42 He and Albert’s thoughtful exchange provides a window on the individual struggle with the issues and ethics of war and peace during the World War II era. Notably, once Frank entered the army, his fellow GIs never criticized Albert’s pacifist position. Rather, they expressed tolerance toward and interest in his CO stand. In a June 1944 letter to his brother, Frank declared, “Of course, I don’t mind receiving your C.O. literature. I often show it to soldier friends and I find it quite stimulating. It doesn’t jeopardize me in the least.”43 But tolerance and interest were not agreement. In October 1944, Frank and Albert obtained three-day furloughs and met in Mankato, Minnesota—a midway point between Frank’s AAF base in Madison, Wisconsin, and Albert’s CPS camp in Hill City, South Dakota. The meeting gave them the opportunity to elaborate their different views on war and peace, while underscoring their mutual respect. “My admiration for your tenacity and convictions has grown, even though I can’t see myself in your role,” Frank wrote his twin several days later. “The only straw I can grasp at is that your situation is too unrealistic, too far removed from the facts of this world.”44 ★★★

The Fellowship of Reconciliation (FOR) and the War Resisters League (WRL)—America’s major radical pacifist organizations—influenced Albert. Founded in 1915, the religious pacifist FOR was the nation’s largest radical pacifist organization. The WRL, a smaller, secular, and more radical group created in 1923, enlisted members under the slogan “Wars Will Cease When Men Refuse To Fight.” Both the FOR and WRL—which repudiated all war, armed social revolution, and militarism—argued that modern technological war was both unethical and counterproductive. In addition, they sought to eliminate the social causes of war and violence through nonviolent social reform. The WRL—and to a lesser degree the FOR—espoused opposition to military aggression, political tyranny, and social injustice through nonviolent means, including mass strikes, boycotts, demonstrations, and noncooperation. Albert joined the FOR in Beatrice, Nebraska, in 1941. His conviction that radical pacifism offered a realistic and effective alternative to armed violence and the arguments that he used in his debates with Frank reflect the principles advocated by the FOR and WRL.45

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During the war, Albert occasionally mailed Frank FOR and WRL literature. This literature sheds light on his thinking. “India’s Cause”—a FOR flyer— championed Mohandas Gandhi and Indian independence from British colonial rule. The flyer advocated the use of nonviolent methods in India and elsewhere to obtain freedom, peace, and justice. It also advertised a pamphlet-length summary of War Without Violence, a powerful explication on Gandhian nonviolent techniques, which the Indian leader called satyagraha. Written by Krishnalal Shridharani, a Gandhi disciple who lived in New York, the study offered both a historical treatment and an instructive guide to the philosophy and practice of satyagraha. During the 1920s and 1930s, Shridharani and other radical pacifists developed a literature—which drew on historical precedents—that argued that Gandhian nonviolent strategies offered an effective alternative to war and violence. The FOR, WRL, and Fellowship, the FOR’s magazine—which Albert read—disseminated and popularized these ideas.46 Albert also sent Frank a WRL flyer entitled “Did Conscription Save Them?” “Which will make us safer,” the flyer asked, “militarization or removing the causes of war?” It noted that militarism, armies, armaments, and conscription had not “saved” Europe in either world war. Moreover, it asserted, the “blind obedience” demanded of soldiers fostered “regimentation and totalitarianism”—not independent thinking and democracy. Instead of national security through conscription, which had failed, the flyer advocated a program of “real social security”—jobs, national health care, and citizenship education—to attack the “causes of war.” The flyer, though not one of the WRL’s best, sought to promote conscientious objection to conscription and military service.47 Finally, Bayard Rustin’s “Non-Violence vs. Jim Crow,” which was published in Fellowship, illustrates Albert’s interest in the use of nonviolent techniques to promote civil rights.48 Rustin, a black Quaker, socialist pacifist, and civil rights leader, was then on the verge of becoming a FOR and WRL leader and a prominent activist in the nonviolent peace and justice movements. In 1943, adopting a radical CO position toward Selective Service, he refused to report for his physical examination, in part because he believed that religious and secular COs should be treated equally and that both should receive CO status. In March 1944, convicted for his refusal to abide by the draft laws, he went to prison for twenty-eight months. Before his conviction and imprisonment, Rustin, a FOR staffer, visited CPS camps and discussed peace, justice, and nonviolence with COs. Rustin participated in the CO struggle for civil rights while in jail, where he waged hunger strikes and took other nonviolent measures against prison Jim Crow. In the fall of 1942, Albert heard Rustin speak in Nebraska—and he was impressed.49

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In “Non-Violence vs. Jim Crow,” Rustin recounted his attempt to use nonviolent techniques to challenge racial segregation and discrimination— commonly known as Jim Crow—in southern interstate bus travel. Boarding a bus in Louisville bound for Nashville, he refused to sit in the black section, refused to move when ordered by the driver, and refused to strike back when the police beat him and called him a “nigger.” During detention and questioning, Rustin maintained his courageous and dignified nonviolent demeanor. Consistent with the pacifist contention that nonviolent strategies could both resist injustice and convert one’s opponent, Rustin argued that his nonviolent resistance disarmed several opponents and/or prompted them to intervene on his behalf, including a policeman and the assistant district attorney. Although his protest did not integrate southern bus travel, Rustin did resist Jim Crow and gained the support of several southerners involved in the incident.50 His example also persuaded Albert that nonviolent methods were effective. Commenting to Frank on Rustin’s article, Albert wrote, “Bayard is fighting for the rights of the Negro as I have seen no one fight. Of course, his methods are entirely through pacifist techniques, but I believe he is getting places as his story which I am sending you indicates.”51 After World War II, Rustin and other radical pacifists, inspired in part by Gandhi, would infuse nonviolent direct action into social movements—often successfully. But in 1942, Germany and Japan remained the immediate challenge.52 In September 1940, one year after Nazi Germany invaded Poland, President Roosevelt signed into law the Selective Training and Service Act of 1940, the first peacetime draft in American history. After pacifist lobbying, Congress amended the original Burke-Wadsworth bill to include more liberal provisions for COs. Pacifists won two major concessions. The law granted CO status to any “person who by reason of religious training and belief, is conscientiously opposed to participation in war in any form.” This language broadened the Selective Service Act of 1917, which during World War I had effectively restricted CO status to members of the historic peace churches (Quakers, Mennonites, and Brethren). In addition, the 1940 law permitted COs to choose either “non-combatant service” under military control or “work of national importance under civilian direction.” But the law did not grant conscientious objector status to secular objectors or to absolutists (who refused to register and/or to cooperate with Civilian Public Service). Finally, the 1940 law authorized the Selective Service System to administer the conscription program.53 In accord with the law’s provisions, both Frank and Albert honorably served their nation during World War II—though in quite different ways.

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Army GI: Frank R. Dietrich, the Army Air Forces, and the “Good War” On December 7, 1941, the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. With America at war, Frank kept in touch with his draft board, which did not order him to report until July 31, 1942. During the interim, he continued to work for the Child Welfare Division of the New Mexico Department of Welfare. In Gallup, which was located on Route 66, Frank joined several social groups, including the 20-30 Club, an organization akin to a Junior Chamber of Commerce with a male membership between the ages of twenty and thirty. There he met Christine Dickey, a public school music teacher who accompanied the club’s singing on the piano and who would become his wife. Brought together by their shared love of music, they found their romance blossoming as they listened to records and took sight-seeing trips around Gallup.54 Like many GI wives, Christine had two brothers who served in World War II, both in the Navy. Her younger brother, Milton (“Dick”), enlisted in 1940 and survived the Pearl Harbor attack on board the U.S.S. Detroit, a light cruiser and one of the few ships to have avoided Japanese bombs and torpedoes. Her older brother, Ralph, signed up immediately after Pearl Harbor; he was a noncommissioned officer who served in the Pacific war zone on the U.S.S. McDonough.55 Frank’s wartime army experience conforms to historian Lee Kennett’s masterful composite of the American GI in World War II.56 Inducted into the army at Pittsburgh on July 17, 1942, Frank immediately went to Fort Meade, Maryland, where he took the Army General Classification Test (AGCT) and completed a week of drills and inspections. AGCT scores, civilian job experience, and personal preference determined in which branch GIs served. Frank was assigned to the AAF. The army was at that time divided into three branches—the Army Ground Forces, the Army Service Forces, and the Army Air Forces, the successor to the Army Air Corps and predecessor of the United States Air Force. Each branch had its own training program. From Fort Meade, Frank was sent to Clearwater, Florida, for occupational classification. There, he took several occupational aptitude tests, qualified for each, but chose radio operator and mechanic, primarily “for the adventure of new experience.”57 In addition to depending on AGCT and aptitude test scores, GI work assignments hinged on a fifteen-minute interview with a classification specialist. Fortunately, Frank established a quick rapport with the classification specialist, a violinist with a social worker wife, who classified him for radio training.58 Radio and other new modes of communications were essential to the AAF, the air war, and the American war effort. World War II’s unprecedented global

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scale, its mobile field of action on air, land, and sea, and its reliance on air power made radio technology and radio technicians critical to an Allied victory. During World War II, only 25 percent of GIs were combat solders; the other 75 percent served in various technical, support, and service assignments. The AAF needed four technical specialists for each pilot, plus a 7:1 ratio of ground personnel to flying personnel and a 16:1 ratio of total noncombat personnel to combat pilots. Less celebrated than their combat comrades, Frank and other noncombat GIs nonetheless made a vital contribution to the Allied triumph. To meet the increased demand for communications experts, the AAF expanded its wartime training program for communications officers and technical specialists. In late 1940, the AAF also decentralized radio training. Ending its practice of training all radio technicians at the Air Corps Technical School at Chanute Field, Illinois, the AAF established new radio schools. Between 1939 and 1945, more than 200,000 GIs—including Frank Dietrich— completed AAF radio courses, while 85,000 soldiers graduated from the AAF radar training program. To overcome the shortage of wartime technical instructors—particularly acute in the war’s early years—the AAF tapped graduates of its technical training schools to teach new recruits. Like Frank, such instructors often had good educational backgrounds and high scores on the AGCT and mechanical aptitude tests.59 After leaving Clearwater, Frank studied and taught radio and electronics at four stateside training schools between August 1942 and March 1945. Like many GI wives, Christine, once married, followed Frank to his posts whenever possible. When conditions prevented them from living together, they carried on an active correspondence.60 To use Lee Kennett’s phrase, Frank—like most GIs—remained a “civilian at heart.” According to Kennett, the GI remained “suspended” between civilian and military life. “Physically he left civilian life, yet mentally he never joined the Army; he was in the service but not of it,” Kennett observes. “He spent part of his time thinking about what was for him the present—that is, his Army experience—and fully as much time thinking about his past—and what he hoped would be his future—in the civilian world.” According to Kennett, GIs maintained contact with home—the civilian world—through mail. Kennett thus provides insight into the larger significance of Frank’s correspondence. His letters to Christine, Albert, and others, which formed a central part of his overseas routine, allowed him to focus on civilian concerns of love, family, culture, and career. In addition, they served to sustain his prearmy antiwar and antimilitaristic convictions and helped him to remain sympathetic to, though unpersuaded by, Albert’s pacifism.61 From August 1942 to January 1943, Frank studied at the AAF Technical School at Sioux Falls Field, South Dakota, where he completed an eighteen-

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week course for radio operators and mechanics (ROM) with a rating of “very satisfactory.” The ROM curriculum, the AAF’s most important communications program, included training in direct current, alternating current, vacuum tubes, transmitters, receivers, circuit analysis, low power equipment, high power equipment, maintenance, inspections, ground equipment, telegraph procedure, international Morse code, and signal lamps.62 From January 1943 to March 1944, Frank was stationed at the AAF Technical School in Tomah, Wisconsin. At Tomah, he trained in fighter plane radio communications, specializing in transmitter mechanics, in particular the British-developed BC-640 transmitter. Completing his training in February 1943, Frank—now Corporal Dietrich—became an instructor and joined the 48th Academic Squadron at Tomah, where he remained for about a year. “I’m a corporal now—two hard-earned stripes,” Frank informed Albert. “That calls for a salute from you, even if you are a C.O.”63 Despite his promotion, Frank expressed dissatisfaction with “inanimate objects like radio equipment,” complained that “all I ever knew is being crowded out of my head by resisters, condensers, and turning coils,” and longed to return to social work.64 In May, on furlough, he visited Christine in Gallup. Despite their intention to wait until peacetime, they married on May 14, 1943—nine days into a ten-day furlough. The next day, Frank left for Tomah.65 Writing her from the U.S.S. Detroit, then in port in San Francisco, Christine’s brother, Dick, offered congratulations. “I know just how much you wanted to be married at home with all your family and friends, but I am so glad that you had sense enough to go ahead when Frank could get leave,” he wrote. “The old rules of things sensible don’t apply now and it seems the whole family agrees.”66 In June, after visiting her family in Arkansas, Christine joined Frank in Wisconsin. Initially, they rented a furnished room in the home of a local family, the Vandervorts.67 Christine waited tables at a drugstore, but with Frank’s encouragement quit after three days, as the low pay and long hours were “exasperating” and “exhausting,” which made it difficult to search for more suitable employment.68 In August, their “dream came true.” Christine found work on base as the chaplain’s secretary, a “good job” that paid $130 a month and made the Dietrichs eligible for on-post housing.69 Moving into a public housing project built for defense workers, Frank informed Albert that it’s “wonderful” to have “our first home.”70 Delighting in the “radiance” of newly married life, Frank wrote his twin: “Al, I can’t emphasize enough the wonders of marriage, and I certainly think you should grab yourself a dame.”71 But in March 1944, the AAF closed Tomah and transferred Frank’s outfit to Chanute Field, Illinois. Christine—now pregnant—returned to her parents’ home in Arkansas until Frank could find housing at his new post.72

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Between March and May 1944, Frank attended the radio school at Chanute Field in Rantoul, Illinois. Transferred there to teach electronics, Frank first took the course himself to obtain the necessary expertise. Despite his criticism of the poor teaching, the insufficient number of instructors, and the lack of adequate equipment—a common problem in AAF technical schools—Frank liked Chanute Field, the most efficient base on which he had served. “Darling, this is really a wonderful post,” he wrote Christine. “Never, in all my Army career have I seen such a helpful and respectful attitude toward the enlisted men.”73 Less positively, he also detailed Chanute Field’s educational shortcomings: Today I have become a student of electronics. We had our first day of classes from 12:30 to 6:30. The course proves to be interesting, but as usual with G.I. schools, there is far too little equipment and not nearly enough instructors. As a result, we have to plod along as best we can. I was expected to do a problem in lab today with three vital pieces of my equipment missing and no replacements. I lacked a tube, a battery and a meter. When finally the school gets sufficient instructors and equipment, I am sure it will be abandoned. That’s the way it was at Sioux Falls and Tomah, and that’s the way it will be here. Too little and too late. Sometimes I wonder what in the world keeps the Army going. It must be sheer mass inertia—just the weight and pressure of ten million men. Certainly it’s not the sum total of their activities, for much of the effort and so-called work is wasted time. Of our six hours schooling today, I’d say the same material could have been covered more thoroughly and more efficiently in two hours with the proper organization of time, subject matter and equipment. I often wonder if the German Army is like this, too.74 Frank’s search for off-base housing at Chanute Field proved difficult. A job opening on base never materialized, which prevented them from living in post housing. Rooms and apartments were scarce in Rantoul and expensive in nearby Urbana and Champaign, seven to eight dollars weekly for a room. Christine’s pregnancy—though still at an early stage—also made them cautious. “I’m usually more adventurous, disregarding seeming obstacles, but in this case when you’re pregnant, one has to think more conservatively,” Frank confessed. “I think much depends on how you feel and whether you think you can put up with the trials of waiting for a job opportunity.”75 The prospects of fatherhood excited him, however. “Raising a child must be like watching a glorious sunrise,” he mused. “Oh darling, I can scarcely wait.”76 Mostly, he was lonely, however. “I’m practically sick with loneliness,” he con-

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fided to Albert. “GI life was endurable before I was married, but since then I have been spoiled rotten, as Chris would say.”77 Eventually, Frank located a basement apartment in Urbana, complete with a toilet mounted on a cement platform—which they dubbed the “throne”—and Christine joined him.78 In Illinois, Christine worked in Champaign at the Collegiate Cap and Gown Company. Six weeks after arriving in Urbana, Christine pulled up roots once again and accompanied Frank to his next assignment in Wisconsin.79 From June 1944 to March 1945, in his last stateside radio school posting, Frank was an instructor at Truax Field in Madison, Wisconsin. Replying to Albert’s July 1944 invitation to visit him in South Dakota’s Black Hills, Frank declined, since Christine was nearly seven months pregnant, which made travel difficult. He confided that “we live in daily dread that we’ll be forced to travel, . . . I think Chris will go back to Arkansas within the next week or two and await the baby’s arrival there. I hate a separation again, and especially at such a time, but it seems the only logical thing to do. Otherwise, Chris may be stuck here alone.”80 The Dietrichs, of course, were not alone. Millions of other married (and single) GIs and their families and loved ones had to cope with the disruption, the unpredictability, and the strain caused by repeated and/or prolonged separations.81 In mid-September, Christine returned to her parents’ home in Arkansas to await the birth of their child. After an “excruciating” week of loneliness, Frank again “adjusted” to living alone on base. “I am almost beginning to feel like a single man again,” he confided to Albert. But his experience made him “appreciate” how “prolonged separation” could strain marriages and “the predicament of young couples separated several years by oceans and continents.” During this period, Frank wrote several expressive letters to Albert and Christine about love, marriage, pregnancy, and parenthood.82 Christine gave birth to Sally Lou in a Pine Bluff hospital on October 20, 1944. Summoned from teaching to take a long-distance telephone call, Frank learned from his mother-in-law that he had a daughter. “Darling,” he told Christine, “you’ve made me the happiest man in the world.”83 Taking a ten-day furlough, he arrived in Arkansas a week later to visit his wife and newborn daughter. Writing to Albert from Altheimer, he described his joy and obsessions: Honestly, I can scarcely live an instant with the infant out of my sight. . . .You can readily see that I’m destined to be an over-indulgent parent, spoiling parent. . . . I look at her tiny hands and see how perfectly they are made for the piano, the violin or the cello. I hear her crying, screaming her lungs out, and fear she’s ruining a preposterously beautiful voice. I look at her head & test her reactions to make sure she’ll be a very capable & intelligent woman. . . . These are the things that make parenthood so absurdly wonderful.84

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Frank had a good relationship with his in-laws. “The Dickeys are just wonderful to me,” Frank reported. “It has been years since I felt like a son.”85 Besides doting on Christine and Sally Lou, he frequented the nearby POW camp in Altheimer—one of more than 660 camps that held 375,000 German POWs— where he had “some interesting talks” with the prisoners.86 After returning to Madison, Frank concentrated on finding an apartment so that Christine and Sally Lou could join him. He wore himself “ragged” hunting for an apartment and working in a battery factory from 6:00 P.M. to midnight earning sixty-four cents per hour.87 Not only were apartments scarce, but the “desirable ones don’t want babies . . . and the ones that will allow babies are filthy rat holes,” Christine lamented in a letter to Albert.88 Both Frank and Christine were discouraged, but their letters were filled with professions of love and, in Christine’s, news of Sally Lou’s development and activities. “Darling, I’m living for our return to Madison,” Christine wrote, and “Sally Lou sends a kiss to her daddy.”89 Mother and daughter delighted Frank with birthday greetings that included Sally Lou’s footprint impressions. Finally, in mid-January, Frank secured a “lovely apartment” (at forty-five dollars a month) when another GI moved out and bequeathed it to Frank.90 Within the next several days, he signed the lease, bought furniture, arranged for “separate rations,” and welcomed Christine and Sally Lou.91 Their reunion, though “like a second honeymoon,” was short-lived.92 The reunion also offered Sally Lou the opportunity to obtain good medical care. Shortly after birth, Sally Lou had developed a hemangioma on her forehead, which created red discoloration and a bump. It also caused Frank and Christine anxiety. Army doctors surgically removed the hemangioma, which had been misdiagnosed by Christine’s family doctor in Altheimer. In March 1945, when Sally Lou was five months old, the army ordered Frank to the Philippines. Christine and Sally Lou returned to Arkansas for the remainder of the war.93 Before Christine and Sally Lou returned to Arkansas, Frank and Christine developed a secret code—based on his army serial number, 33284232—to bypass army censorship. In letters beginning with “Dearest darling,” Frank included a coded message; he used the digits in his serial number to designate the first letter of a specific word in each successive line of his letter. For instance, the first number, “3,” corresponded to the first letter of the third word in line one; the second number, “3,” corresponded to the first letter of the third word on line two; the first “2” corresponded to the first letter of the second word on line three, and so on. Frank was sent to the Overseas Replacement Depot in Kearns, Utah, for overseas preparation. During March and April 1945, he spent three weeks in Utah before proceeding to California. From San Francisco, Sgt. Frank Dietrich shipped to the Philippines on the S.S.

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Lurline, a Matson luxury liner converted into a troop ship. The April 25–May 17, 1945, voyage to Manila under the blistering sun took twenty-two days, since the ship traveled slowly and zigzagged across the Pacific down nearly to Australia to avoid Japanese submarines. En route, the Lurline passed Guadalcanal, coursed through the Solomon Islands, and docked at Finschhafen, New Guinea. On board, Frank played chess, sang in the ship’s choir, and read—mainly Shakespeare, though at Finschhafen, he invoked Joseph Conrad to express his thrill at the promise of tropical adventure prompted by “the sea and the jungle.”94 ★★★

Meanwhile, General Douglas MacArthur’s forces had liberated Manila from the Japanese. MacArthur’s “return” (following his May 1942 escape from Corregidor) would further shake up Frank’s life. A U.S. colony since the Spanish-American-Cuban-Filipino War (1898), the Philippines was an important theater during World War II. In December 1941, the Japanese had invaded the Philippines. In the Battles of Bataan and Corregidor (December 1941–May 1942), the Japanese captured Bataan Peninsula and the 2.74-square-mile island fortress of Corregidor in Manila Bay, which compelled Lieutenant General Jonathan Wainwright to surrender the “Gibraltar of the Pacific.” During the Bataan Death March that followed, more than six hundred American and five to ten thousand Filipino prisoners died from Japanese abuse, malnourishment, and disease during a forced march to POW camps. The liberation of the Philippines started in October 1944 with the assault on Leyte Island and the January 1945 invasion of Luzon, the main Philippine island and home to Manila. Landing in northern Luzon at Lingayen Gulf, MacArthur’s troops marched across Luzon and encircled Manila by midFebruary. General Tomoyuki Yamashita, the top Japanese army leader in the Philippines who commanded the 14th Area Army, divided his forces into three groups to defend Luzon and Manila. The Battle of Manila (February 3–March 3, 1945), which devastated the capital, was marked by brutal atrocities by Japanese defenders. Despite Yamashita’s intention not to contest Manila, Admiral Sanji Iwabachi, commander of the Manila Naval Defense Force, chose to defend the capital south of the Pasig River, which bisects the city. Yamashita’s order to destroy the harbor facilities and military installations led to a huge fire that scorched much of northern and western Manila. American troops fought the fire—and the Japanese. During the month-long battle, twenty thousand Japanese in Manila fought Americans block by block, house by house, and sometimes floor by floor and room by room. Both the massive concrete government buildings

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and the stone walls of Intramuros, the ancient walled city, shielded the defenders. In an attempt to limit damage and civilian casualties in a city with 1 million residents, MacArthur prohibited air strikes, though he did authorize the use of artillery. Approximately sixteen thousand Japanese and one thousand American soldiers died in the street fighting. The Japanese butchered, shot, bayoneted, tortured, clubbed, and raped Filipino civilians. The Japanese massacres and the ferocious battle, which included American bombardment with 75-, 155-, and 240-mm guns, killed more than 100,000 Filipinos and left Manila the most damaged Allied capital after Warsaw. With the capital liberated, the Philippine government returned, reconstruction began, and the United States moved to liberate the remainder of Luzon. Assisted by more than 300,000 Filipino guerillas, the Americans gradually defeated Yamashita’s well-entrenched forces. At the time of Japan’s surrender in August 1945, he commanded fifty thousand men. Several weeks later, on September 2, 1945, Yamashita surrendered.95 Meanwhile, Frank, who reached the Philippines three months after the Battle of Manila, described the wartime damage in Manila and elsewhere. The “devastation and destruction are positively staggering,” he wrote after arriving in Manila in May 1945.96 Both the Spanish colonial walled city and the residential districts were in “shambles.” Despite “gaping holes,” the Cathedral remained one of the few buildings in downtown Manila to survive the war intact.97 Still, amid the “burned and charred and pock-marked buildings,” Frank detected the beauty and elegance that characterized prewar Manila, once the “Pearl of the Orient.”98 Despite the Filipinos’ suffering, Frank observed: “The spirit of the people is amazing. In the ruins, they have tried to reestablish their businesses under the most unimaginable handicaps—almost a complete lack of public utilities.”99 In the Philippines, Frank joined the Fifth Air Force. The Fifth Air Force had been established as the Philippine Department Air Force in August 1941, renamed the Far East Air Force in October 1941, redesignated the Fifth Air Force in 1942, and assigned to the Far East Air Forces in June 1944. In December 1941, following the Japanese attack on the Philippines, the Fifth (then Far East) Air Force had retreated to Australia and regrouped. Beginning in 1942, it provided air support for the Allied campaigns against the Japanese in the Pacific, including the struggle to liberate the Philippines.100 Initially part of the First Fighter Control Squadron, Frank spent most of his time assigned to the Eighth Fighter Control Squadron. When, after Japan’s surrender, the Fifth Air Force was ordered to Japan, the Eighth Fighter Control Squadron was originally included in the order. However, another unit—one with less service—was sent to Japan instead. Frank’s squadron was transferred to the Far East Air Force and later to the Air Defense Command, charged with the postwar defense of the Philippines. Instead of performing occupation duty in Japan, Frank would return home.101

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Frank was first stationed in Angeles City, fifty miles north of Manila in Pampanga province and the home of Clark Air Base, which was located just outside the city. In June, Frank reported that fighting continued and that Americans were dying, but he assured Christine—who expressed concern after reading press accounts of the fighting—that the shooting remained distant. “I have seen no combat,” he declared, “although our Squadron is . . . actively supporting combat.”102 Although not at the front lines, he did not totally escape the Japanese presence. Occasionally, he observed Japanese soldiers in Angeles City; some walked into town to surrender, others were brought in as prisoners.103 In Manila, he picked up a U.S. army flyer that identified the bearer as a Japanese who wished to surrender. Written in English, Japanese, and Tagalog, the flyer ordered all persons to escort capitulating Japanese safely to American soldiers.104 Meanwhile, Frank and Christine welcomed the Japanese surrender on August 14, 1945. “I thank God you’re safe,” Christine wrote. “I’m very proud of you for having been such a fine soldier.”105 In contrast to the atomic knockout delivered at Nagasaki, Frank considered the formal surrender an “anticlimax” but nonetheless celebrated peace by visiting Manila.106 Five weeks later, he attended a belated V-J Day parade in nearby Tarlac.107 Frank approved of the dropping of atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. He believed that it was a military necessity, made an invasion of Japan unnecessary, and enabled him to return home more quickly. Like many GIs in his unit, Frank was relieved that the bomb ended the war, since he had expected to participate in an invasion of Japan.108 In addition, he immediately realized the bomb’s revolutionary implications. “If the shot at Concord was heard ‘round the world,’” he wrote Christine, in a reference to Ralph Waldo Emerson’s salute to the opening salvo of the American Revolution, “the atomic bomb reverberated throughout the universe into the outermost galaxy.”109 Human survival in the atomic age, Frank argued, required no less than the Christian “brotherhood of man” and “all the intelligence of mankind.” “This is the greatest hour for Christianity,” he asserted; “if it fails this time, the human race is lost.”110 Fascinated by the bomb and atomic energy and advocating the collective ownership of atomic technology, Frank “devour[ed]” everything on the subject in Time, the New Yorker, and other available publications.111 Working as a radio technician, Frank spent eight months in the Philippines waiting to participate in the invasion, and later the occupation, of Japan. At Angeles City and Fort McKinley—both on Luzon—he worked as a radio maintenance technician for the Eighth Fighter Control Squadron. At Angeles City, his unit was housed in a Catholic school building. Assigned to a unit that had recently transferred from Australia, he immediately was tasked with repairing its rundown transmitters. Using aluminum that he cut from a

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Japanese plane that had crashed into the steeple of a nearby church, he repaired the transmitter casings and fixed the circuits. In mid-August 1945, Frank was transferred to Fort McKinley, five miles outside Manila. His hilltop transmitter shack—where he typically worked eight-hour shifts maintaining equipment—offered superb vistas of Manila Bay, the capitol, the rolling hills, and the farmers cultivating rice fields and tilling plots with carabao and primitive plows.112 Promoted to staff sergeant in October 1945, he was made the VHF (Very High Frequency) communications chief one month later.113 Frank thoroughly enjoyed the Philippines and Filipinos. Building on his multicultural experience in New Mexico with the Navajo Indians and adopting an anthropological approach to yet another culture, Frank accepted Filipino customs, though he did make benign judgments. He observed that his Filipino friends had “hosts” of superstitions, including the conviction that dwarfs lived in a nearby volcanic mountain and that anyone who looked at them would become ill and die.114 He interacted with different Filipino racial and ethnic groups, including aboriginal Negritos, whom he called “the strangest and most unexpected sight.”115 He even learned a bit of Pampango, the local dialect, and Tagalog, the Philippine national language.116 Often, he showed photographs of Christine and Sally Lou to fascinated Filipinos, who “stared, glared, gaped and gazed” at the snapshots.117 Contrary to most GIs— who called them “Flips” —he rejected the notion that Filipinos were “primitive,” “uncivilized,” or “uncultured” because they were a different race or had a low material standard of living.118 Unlike most GIs, Frank traveled to local towns and villages and socialized with ordinary Filipinos. At Angeles City, Frank developed warm friendships with several Filipinos who lived in nearby Porac, a village located on the river of the same name. These friends included Alberto, Celio, and Vlademir, the last named after an American-German sailor friend of his father. He went underwater spearfishing and dynamite-fishing with them, visited their bamboo homes built on stilts, befriended their families, and had meals at their homes. Not wanting to offend his hosts during one dinner of fish cooked whole with head and guts, Frank summoned up his courage and ate the fish brains and liver. Later, at Fort McKinley, Frank visited local villages and made friends with fishermen, who invited him to join their fishing expeditions and to ride in their dugout outriggers. Frank’s GI friends accused him of “going native,” which he no doubt considered a compliment.119 Frank condemned the Japanese for their harsh, arrogant, and stupid occupation policies. He observed that their expropriation of homes, confiscation of crops, and other oppressive measures had alienated Filipinos and proved counterproductive to their goal of a Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity sphere. He also noted that the Japanese assigned Koreans, who had a reputa-

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tion for abusing prisoners, to guard American POWs.120 Extrapolating from conversations with Filipinos, he contended that the Filipino response to the Japanese occupation varied from heroic guerilla resistance on the one hand to “collaboration, opportunism or simple resignation” on the other.121 Camp life and social interaction with GIs occupied much of Frank’s time. At Angeles City and Fort McKinley, the men lived in communal tents. Even though their campsite at Fort McKinley was a “quagmire” situated between a cesspool and a dump, the men adjusted to their conditions and through common experiences built a sense of community.122 Frank shared a camaraderie with barrack mates, participated in bull sessions, and socialized with the other men. Pranks added levity. Once, while Frank showered, his barrack mates hid his belongings and equipment in another tent.123 In the Philippines, the GIs endured tropical heat and torrential rainfall. Except on Sundays, when he took excursions, Frank welcomed the rain, which provided some relief from the heat. To cope with the heat, the men often remained partly or fully undressed. “Most of us always sit in our shorts in our tents, and sometimes we work in our shorts,” Frank reported. “I go around with my shirt off as much as I do with it on. An unsuspecting visitor to a G.I. overseas camp might well suspect he was in a nudists’ camp,” he remarked. “Soldiers frequently lie about their tents, go to the shower or latrine stark naked. Filipino laundry girls are apparently quite accustomed to it now,” he noted. “They simply don’t pay any attention to a nude male, [and] treat it as a phenomenon that doesn’t exist.”124 Even though most GIs in the Philippines did not possess a university degree or share his cultural interests, Frank formed quick friendships and participated in the camp’s social life. As the average GI had only one year of high school, in contrast to Frank’s M.A. degree, this illustrated Frank’s ability to mix with less-educated men and the impact of their shared army experience in molding a common culture among men with different backgrounds.125 Despite his friendships, Frank was disappointed with GI behavior and their lack of cultural knowledge and intellectual curiosity, though there were notable exceptions. During a trip along the Porac river, he deplored “the typically American desecration of the countryside by hordes of picnikers who leave a trail of papers, cans, beer bottles and what-not in their wake.” “I felt as though I were transforming a Beethoven Sonata into a boogie-woogie,” he lamented.”126 Commenting on a critical article in the Filipino press on GI behavior, he lamented that “the coming of the Americans to every continent of the globe has been like an invasion . . . supported on a conceit that mechanical gadgets and wealth alone comprise a civilization or culture.”127 Concerned with maintaining the morale of GIs—especially those stationed overseas—the Pentagon, through Special Services and the Information

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and Education Sections (I&E), provided soldiers with Hollywood movies, civilian and military publications (such as Yank and Stars and Stripes), American food and drink (including donuts and coffee), PX supplies, refrigerators, cheap radios and phonographs, symphonic concerts and operatic performances, USO show tours, university extension programs, and other services, diversions, and links to home. To celebrate Thanksgiving, the army served a feast on which Frank “gorged.”128 Perhaps most importantly, the Army Postal Service delivered a reliable exchange of mail—the “biggest morale booster.”129 Without doubt, these programs and services helped to sustain Frank’s morale in the Philippines.130 In addition, the American Red Cross, working with Special Services and I&E, boosted morale by providing leisure-time activities, including off-base service clubs that offered GIs assorted services, amusements, and opportunities. Like other GIs, Frank considered the Red Cross, which established facilities in the Philippines, a “God-send,” a refuge from the cramped bustle of camp.131 In Angeles City, the Red Cross operated in an elegant house. In Manila, where the Red Cross had centers throughout the city, Frank frequented the Red Cross Roosevelt Club, a luxurious accommodation housed in the modernistic Jai-Alai Club, which had been damaged by artillery. The Roosevelt Club, which contained a coffee shop, dining room, game room, craft room, and theater, also featured bingo and a loudspeaker that broadcast NBC radio concerts. In Angeles City and Manila, Frank often wrote Christine from a Red Cross center, which provided free stationery and quiet solitude. Finally, he visited the Red Cross to relax, snack, buy concert tickets, escape the heat, use the library, study for his criminology class, and shower after swimming at Cavite Beach.132 In the Philippines and elsewhere, the American Red Cross—including its Philippine branch—made important contributions to maintaining GI wartime morale.133 In the Philippines, Frank remained socially and culturally active. Music and reading were his major cultural interests. Besides listening to radio broadcasts, on base and in Manila, he attended musical performances, operas, and concerts, including the Manila Symphony.134 He read eclectically, due in part to the limited titles available. He read—and discussed in his letters—classic and modern novels, poetry, biography, history, and social science.135 Reading Herman Melville (Moby Dick) and Joseph Conrad (Heart of Darkness, Mirror of the Sea, and Victory) in the tropical and to him exotic Philippines stirred Frank’s imagination and led him to identify with the romantic novelists. Writing to Christine in June 1945 on a makeshift “mahogany plank table,” he described his surroundings—a “typical tropical scene,” complete with a tent, mosquito-netted cots, and a bottle of rum that he sipped as he composed.136 In another letter, he declared that “I only wish

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this was peace time and you two were here with me to enjoy the tropical splendor of these islands.” “Tropical adventures always fascinated me when I was a boy,” he confessed, “and now, I guess, I’m re-living those stories I read, plus the more mature Conrad novels.”137 He also invoked Melville. Shortly after arriving in the Philippines, Frank compared his encounter with a “heroic” Australian soldier to “Ishmael and Queequeg.”138 Presumably, Frank identified with Ishmael, the narrator of Moby Dick and a teacher turned seaman who represented civilization, while Queequeg, the tattooed South Sea harpooner, represented uncivilized, but noble, society—and, in this case, the stereotypical more natural and less corrupted Aussie. Frank had other interests besides reading and music. He regularly watched movies, though he thought most were “mediocre.”139 He played catch, went to a baseball game at Rizal Stadium, and enrolled in courses at the Philippine Institute. Sponsored by the army, the institute’s educational program enabled him to pursue intellectual interests and escape camp. Meeting two nights per week, Frank’s classes gave him something to do with his evenings. His Spanish course was disappointing, but his criminology class proved “very stimulating after such a long absence from Sociological considerations.”140 Notwithstanding his intellectual bent, Frank visited bars and clubs for drinks, comradeship, and entertainment. In Manila, he frequented dives and upscale establishments alike. Barhopping one night in Manila, he went from a “honky-tonk dive” in a “bombed-out theater,” to a “fancy” club with white tablecloths and an excellent jazz band, to a “cheap” vaudeville show that featured “acrobats, midgets, Spanish dancers and hula dancers.”141 Occasionally, he got drunk.142 Once, when he passed out en route to the base, his friends, undeterred by his lack of underwear, removed his pants. Always the good sport, Frank observed that such events helped “to relieve the hum-drum boredom of Army life.”143 On base, he socialized at the Enlisted Men’s Club (EMC).144 Retracting his original intent not “to patronize it very regularly,” he soon pronounced the EMC, which opened in October 1945, “my favorite spot.”145 In addition, with the cooperation of an officer friend, on at least two occasions Frank donned an officer’s shirt (complete with bar and wings) and enjoyed an illicit evening in the Officers Club.146 Frank also used his letters to comment on political developments, though less often than one might expect. Paradoxically, he endorsed the Allies’ Potsdam demand for unconditional surrender, but after the atomic bombing of Nagasaki and the subsequent Japanese surrender, conditioned on their right to retain their emperor system, he favored accepting that condition in order to end the war.147 Regarding the Philippines, he preferred statehood but recognized that the United States had little political option but to honor the demand for indepen-

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dence long enunciated by Filipino political parties. Endorsing the French policy of extending citizenship to colonial subjects, he declared, “I only wish we would do the same thing for the Philippines, Hawaiian Islands and Alaska. Such trends toward world unification must inevitably lead to a lesser likelihood of war.”148 Frank and Christine approved efforts to publicize Nazi atrocities. They commended U.S. occupation authorities in Europe who required ordinary Germans to visit extermination camps to observe the evidence of Nazi genocide and to dig graves for the victims. They also approved the broadcast of news films in Germany and the United States that provided a documentary record of Nazism’s monstrous crimes. “Like you, I’m glad those sights are thrust upon us,” Christine wrote Frank. “We need to open our eyes—or have them opened.”149 Presumably, it gave Frank satisfaction to read that these atrocity films were shown to imprisoned Nazi leaders, including Julius Streicher, whom he had heard address an audience at the University of Munich during his 1935 trip to Germany.150 In an expression of his antiwar and antimilitarist (though not pacifist) sentiments, Frank denounced the peacetime conscription bill then before Congress. Asserting that “the Army discourages initiative and leadership by teaching blind obedience,” he advocated a volunteer military. He dismissed the notion that draftees could learn a valuable “trade or skill” in the army during one year of conscription.151 When the general in charge of demobilization requested a peacetime army of 2.5 million to support “an international poker game where only power counts,” Frank declared that the general and other like-minded military chiefs were “only interested in maintaining their lucrative commands and have no regard for the general or international order.” “Society has a right to fear men of this type,” he warned.152 Frank understood that World War II was a transformative event and that the world was moving politically leftward. A liberal, Frank advocated a progressive New Deal program at home and abroad. Predicting a “new alignment of world powers,” he wanted America to join the progressive bloc represented by emergent Left governments in Europe.153 For instance, while he admired Winston Churchill’s heroic wartime leadership, Frank welcomed his defeat by the Labour Party in the British elections of July 1945.154 From Arkansas, Christine also greeted “a socialist England” and other “drastic changes” to transform the world. “All I know is that I want a world of peace and freedom for Sally Lou,” she proclaimed.155 Concurring, Frank praised her sentiments and contemplated their generation’s responsibility to fashion a world of peace, justice, and cooperation. “We need Plato’s Philosopher Kings as we never needed them before,” he declared.156 Finally, Frank commented on the Yamashita war crimes trial. In January 1946, General MacArthur, the Supreme Commander of Allied Powers in

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Tokyo, acting under a Potsdam Conference mandate, established the International Military Tribunal for the Far East. Between 1946 and 1948, the tribunal tried twenty-eight Japanese military and civilian leaders, including General Yamashita, whom it charged with responsibility for war crimes committed during the Battle of Manila. More specifically, Yamashita was charged with failing to control troops under his command, even though the atrocities were committed against his orders, without his knowledge, and by naval troops outside his effective control who ignored his order to evacuate Manila in an orderly manner. In late November 1945, Frank attended a session of Yamashita’s trial in Manila. Conducted in the high commissioner’s residence (home to the American governor-general of the Philippines), the temporary courtroom accommodated three hundred spectators and representatives of the media. Frank thought that, unlike Nazis charged with war crimes, Yamashita had presented a powerful defense and was “guilty more from negligence than from systematic planning and scheming of atrocities.”157 Judging otherwise, the tribunal sentenced Yamashita to death on December 7, 1945, the fourth anniversary of the Pearl Harbor attack. After MacArthur and the U.S. Supreme Court refused his appeal, Yamashita was hanged in February 1946.158 After V-J Day, Frank remained in the Philippines for five months awaiting demobilization.159 As demobilization was based on a complex and shifting point system (which calculated length of service, overseas assignments, dependent children, campaign stars, and combat decorations), “points” became a focus of GI discussion. “Getting home is practically the only topic of conversation over here,” Frank observed. “It’s got almost to the point where one is greeted with ‘How many points ya got?’”160 GIs also disagreed over the policy of bonus points. A friend of Frank’s, Ed Dobroski, in a complaint expressed by many single GIs, opposed awarding married men extra points for dependent children, since “single men are making just as much a sacrifice by not being able to get home to get married and start a family.”161 In September 1945, demobilization from the Philippines required sixty points, though the number fluctuated according to shifting policy. The rumor mill exacerbated GI uncertainty, with, in a reference to conversation in the collective outhouse, “Latrine #1, seat 4” serving as one rumor conduit.162 With fifty-nine points— one point short—Frank resigned himself to an April 1946 discharge. Barracks humor and GI pranks inadvertently hastened Frank’s reunion with Christine and Sally Lou. On several occasions, GIs had tried to dupe Frank into believing that he had accumulated sixty points. One night after dinner a ringleader “added up” Frank’s points, with the intention of padding the total with a fictitious point. To the surprise of all, the prankster tabulated sixty (not fifty-nine) authentic points. Confirming the higher total, officers told Frank that sixty-point men were expected to leave the following week. “I

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have been the topic of discussion for the whole squadron today,” Frank reported. “The fluke in my record was discovered in such an odd manner and at such a critical time that it can scarcely be considered less than miraculous.”163 In December 1945, after eight months in the Philippines, Frank boarded a Dutch freighter and returned to San Francisco. From California, he took a train to Fort Chaffee, Arkansas, where the Army granted him an honorable discharge on January 24, 1946. From there, he continued to Altheimer, Arkansas. Christine and Sally Lou, who had the flu, were unable to meet him at the station. Frank, who had received a new flu vaccine before being discharged, was protected during their reunion.164 Several days later, they all took a train to Pittsburgh to visit Frank’s dad. In Pittsburgh, his dad gave him a letter from Friedrich Metz, his former German pen pal, who was now a prisoner of war. Writing from a POW camp in Paris, Metz explained that he could not contact his parents, since military officials prohibited the shipment of mail across occupation zones. He asked Frank to inform his parents, who lived in the Soviet occupation zone, that he was safe. Frank wrote immediately; the Metzes received his letter and were relieved to learn that their son had survived. After several weeks in Pittsburgh, Frank, Christine, and Sally Lou drove to Roswell, New Mexico, where he rejoined the New Mexico Department of Welfare as a child welfare worker.165

Pacifist CO: Albert G. Dietrich, Civilian Public Service, and Opposition to World War II Unlike Frank, Albert repudiated World War II and refused to participate in military service. Instead, he served in Civilian Public Service (CPS). The Selective Service System, in concert with the historic peace churches, created CPS to provide alternative “work of national importance under civilian direction” for COs who rejected noncombatant military service. In October 1940, to coordinate the administration of CPS, the peace churches established the National Service Board for Religious Objectors (NSBRO). Under their agreement, the federal government contributed equipment and facilities (usually former Civilian Conservation Corps camps), while mainly the historic peace churches maintained the camps and covered the thirty-five-dollar monthly expenses for COs unable to pay for their own upkeep. The peace churches raised more than $7 million to support CPS; the Mennonites, who raised the most, contributed more than $3 million. Between 1941 and 1947, nearly twelve thousand men served in 151 CPS camps nationwide.166 The pact between the government and the peace churches combined political pragmatism with the recognition of the right of conscientious objec-

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tion. Mindful that public opinion was hostile toward COs, the government did not want to be viewed as being too lenient toward objectors. At the same time, the government had learned from its experience during World War I, when 450 absolutist COs had refused military service, had been courtmartialed, and had waged individual and collective protests, including work and hunger strikes, at Fort Leavenworth and other military prisons. In 1940, the government offered COs better treatment, both to respect individual conscience and to avoid the administrative burden of handling principled and often difficult objectors. Most religious pacifists, particularly members of the historic peace churches, embraced CPS as a huge improvement over their plight during the First World War. Although the peace churches assumed financial and administrative responsibility for CPS, military Selective Service officials, not churchappointed civilian camp directors who were pacifists or sympathetic to pacifists, retained policy control. Military control of CPS, which angered radical COs, was symbolized by the July 1941 appointment of General Lewis B. Hershey, who replaced Clarence Dykstra, the former president of the University of Wisconsin, to head Selective Service.167 In general, COs adopted a “service,” “resistance,” or “absolutist” position toward CPS. Service COs, who accepted CPS as a good-faith attempt by the government to honor pacifist conscience, welcomed the opportunity to apply religious ideals and serve humanity through hospital work, firefighting, relief activities, public health and conservation projects, and other meaningful humanitarian assignments. Resistant COs, usually radical political and religious COs who championed social reform, civil rights, and civil liberties, led protests in CPS to advance these goals. Finally, a small number of absolutists, who repudiated any compromise with conscription or the war effort, accepted prison. Absolutists refused to register for the draft, submit to a military physical examination, or report to CPS. Some COs initially chose CPS before the experience of camp life led them to embrace resistance or absolutism and to wage hunger strikes and walkouts to express opposition to a “slave system” that supported the mass murder of war. Notably, in prison, radical pacifist COs used nonviolent Gandhian methods, including work strikes, hunger strikes, and other forms of noncooperation to challenge Jim Crow, censorship, lousy food, and dehumanizing regulations. Besides the twelve thousand COs in CPS, six thousand COs served prison terms, and another twenty-five thousand COs entered the military, where they performed noncombatant work, usually as medics. Imprisoned COs included political and humanitarian COs who did not meet the law’s religious test, absolutists who refused to cooperate with Selective Service or CPS, and radicalized COs who initially entered CPS but, disillusioned by the experience,

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resisted camp rules or walked out, the equivalent of going AWOL. In addition, the Selective Service System could be capricious. The 6,500 local draft boards, which were dominated by veterans, often differed in deciding who qualified as a “genuine” conscientious objector. Indeed, Albert’s local (Sioux City, Iowa) draft board denied his claim for CO status, and, had this ruling not been reversed on appeal, Albert, who rejected noncombatant military service, would have opted for jail rather than induction into the armed forces. Like most religious pacifists—in particular those associated with the peace churches—Albert accepted CPS as a positive effort by the government to respect individual conscience. Although most COs welcomed and cooperated with CPS, a small group of resistant COs denounced and challenged it. Resistant COs—usually political objectors, religious pacifists outside the peace churches, or atheists—were often members of the War Resisters League or the Fellowship of Reconciliation. Many resistant COs registered for the draft, received CO status, and entered CPS only to find themselves disillusioned and radicalized by the experience: the absence of payment for work performed, trivial work assignments, arbitrary camp management (under the control of military officers), and the role of the peace churches in administering the camps against the will of the secular pacifists. To protest CPS’s shortcomings, resistant COs resorted to work strikes, work slowdowns, hunger strikes, walkouts, individual appeals, mass petitions, and a barrage of critical letters to the Selective Service, NSBRO, WRL, and FOR. Albert recognized that CPS entailed problems and injustices, but he never joined the radicals’ revolt. Although he did not subscribe to the quietistic nonresistance philosophy of the Mennonites who administered (and comprised most of the men in) the three camps in which he served, Albert’s attitude toward CPS was undoubtedly influenced by the Mennonite’s theology and stance on alternative service.168 The Mennonite two-kingdom theology, their nonresistance and service philosophy, and their World War I experience, explain the absence of protest in Mennonite camps. The two-kingdom theology made a sharp distinction between the kingdom of God and the kingdom of the world, between church and state, and between heaven and earth. Although adherence to the divine kingdom took precedence, Mennonites willingly obeyed the state in all matters that did not contradict their religious convictions. Mennonites have traditionally refused—or at least have been reluctant—to assume political office, to vote, and to engage in political protest. In an effort to serve the divine kingdom and not compromise their religious convictions, Mennonites sought isolation from government, since no secular government could fully adhere to Christian principles. This theology led Mennonites to remain nonpolitical, to adopt a subservient stance toward

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governments, and to acquiesce to government policies. Christian nonresistance renounced all—even nonviolent—force and coercion, and it led Mennonites to remain politically passive and to keep their distance from radical COs who used nonviolent direct action to challenge the government and redress social injustice. Finally, Mennonite leaders invoked World War I, when the government often treated COs harshly, to emphasize the privileges and opportunities that CPS offered. In short, most Mennonites were politically acquiescent, uninvolved with social protest, and grateful toward the government for CPS. For Mennonites, CPS and nonmilitary alternative service provided an opportunity for service and religious witness. Despite their opposition to government service and political protest, Mennonites were concerned with social needs, injustice, and alleviating suffering. But instead of relying on government action and political activism, they developed their own social programs to serve people and advance social justice in accord with scriptural requirements to relieve suffering. Mennonites participated in various CPS programs to serve people and to demonstrate that pacifists, though rejecting military service, could make positive social contributions. One such program, in which Albert participated at CPS camps in Denison, Iowa, and Mulberry, Florida, was training COs for humanitarian work overseas. The Mennonite Central Committee (MCC) sponsored schools in CPS to train COs for wartime and postwar relief and reconstruction assignments overseas. The program prepared COs to work in refugee settlements, in Displaced Persons programs, and in reconstruction projects. In April 1943, Selective Service approved a plan, drafted by historic peace church-affiliated colleges already offering such programs, to establish a CPS overseas relief and rehabilitation training program. To administer the program, in May 1943, Selective Service established CPS camp #101, located in Philadelphia, with “side camps” at Quaker, Brethren, and Mennonite colleges. Meanwhile, led by Mennonite Robert Kreider, an advance team for a CPS relief unit sailed for China. Congress torpedoed these initiatives, however. In June 1943, Congress adopted the Starnes Amendment (to the 1944 War Department appropriation bill), which prohibited COs from participating in overseas relief programs. The Selective Service closed CPS #101 and the CPS team, which never reached China, returned. Though disappointed by Congress’s action, the MCC and other peace churches, looking ahead to postwar needs and opportunities, continued to operate informal relief training schools in CPS. At Denison and Mulberry, Albert taught in this program. The MCC also participated in a postwar program to replenish livestock in Europe; COs in CPS volunteered to work as “seagoing cowboys” on cattle boats that transported cattle and livestock to Europe.169

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Despite living in Mennonite-dominated CPS communities that encouraged acquiescence to government policies in general and to CPS in particular, Albert occasionally expressed dissatisfaction with CPS. With his Methodist religion, youthful flirtation with socialism, and social worker background, he might have joined the radicals had he been assigned to Quaker-administered camps, where most resistant COs served. Undoubtedly, these politically active, radical pacifist, resistant COs would have nurtured and encouraged—not dampened—his dissatisfaction. Interestingly, shortly before and after completing his alternative service, Albert wrote several damning indictments of CPS, though he partially recanted his criticism soon afterward.170 Significantly, Rick Lowenberg—a friend of Albert and a CO veteran of Hill City, Byberry, and Mancos, whose own defiance in CPS landed him in Leavenworth—contended that a liberal, non-Mennonite camp environment might have encouraged Albert to adopt a radical stance toward CPS: “If only we could have drug you away from the Mennonite opiate—they didn’t deserve such good material. Theirs was for the strong backs not the freed spirits. In Byberry or Mancos [a government CPS camp in Colorado that housed radical COs] you might have walked out and cut the fetid fetters. . . .”171 ★★★

Albert’s prolonged legal-administrative battle to obtain CO status began in February 1942 and continued until September 1943. Like many pacifist draftees, Albert had a difficult time convincing the government to grant him CO status.172 In addition, his father initially opposed his CO stand. Rather than enter the military and compromise his pacifist ideals, Albert expressed his willingness to go to prison—or even to be shot.173 On February 12, 1942, Albert completed his Selective Service questionnaire, registered as a conscientious objector, and requested Form 47 (used by applicants for CO status to submit evidence to support their claim) from the Sioux City draft board. Nearly four months later, on June 2, his draft board finally sent him the form; amazingly, in a letter that accompanied the form, he was told that he had been classified I-A (available for military service), a decision made before he had even received Form 47.174 In response to this classification, on June 19 Albert appealed to the Iowa Selective Service Board of Appeal. His letter challenged the ruling by the Sioux City draft board and explained his position: I am appealing to the Board of Appeal from the determination of my Local Board in classifying me as I-A instead of IV-E [conscientious

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objector]. The statement below specifies the respects in which I believe my Local Board erred in classifying me as I-A. Since by reason of my religious training and belief I am conscientiously opposed to war and cannot participate in any war effort, either directly or indirectly, I have filled out my Selective Service questionnaire indicating my conscientious objection. However, my Local Board has not given due consideration to my conscientious objection to military service and has failed to understand the sincerity and strength of conviction with which I hold to my belief. This is evidenced first of all by the fact that my Local Board placed me in class ‘tentative I-A subject to medical examination’ before I was given the opportunity to fill out and return form 47 substantiating my claim to be conscientiously opposed to participation in war. My tentative classification was issued June 2, 1942, one day earlier than my form 47, which was issued to me June 3rd. Although I realized that the earlier classification was only a tentative one, I wish to call attention to the fact that it was tentative pending medical examination, and not tentative pending further substantiation of my claim to be a conscientious objector to war. It would seem, therefore, that my classification was established before I was given an opportunity to file form 47 and my claim to conscientious objection to war could not have been given full consideration. My stand in opposing force and violence is definite and unalterable. I believe I am motivated by the highest ideals of patriotism and humanitarianism as well as by deep religious convictions. I hold that the interests of humanity and the interests of my own country can be best promoted and served by refusing to sanction force with violence and by promoting, in its stead, love, tolerance and mutual understanding among all peoples. I firmly believe that genuine love based upon understanding is more powerful than any force and that when it is used in international affairs, war, which is destructive and futile, will become unnecessary. I further believe that the power of love can be demonstrated only by individuals living according to the law of love and that it is my duty to my conscience, to my God, and to my fellow men to follow to the best of my ability this law of love in my daily living. I hold that the greatest value in life is the individual personality. From it emanates the spiritual, in it dwells God. To kill a person, or to aid indirectly in the killing of a person is the greatest of all wrongs. I accept the commandment of God, “Thou shalt not kill.” without reservations as to time or place or circumstances and I cannot accept any order to the contrary from any man. I have dedicated my life to social work and hope that I shall have an opportunity to contribute much to human welfare and social betterment

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before my work is done. But I cannot reconcile war with social work. They are the antithesis of one another and to accept one means to totally reject the other. I accept social work and its principles and purposes. I reject war, its methods, purposes and results. To me, to kill a man is murder; to burn and destroy his property is arson; to capture and hold another human being forcibly is kidnaping; to take another’s possessions is larceny and theft; to willfully and purposefully make false statements about another, is slander or libel. These practices are crimes; yet they are the very instruments by means of which war is carried on. They are the antitheses of social work. They are the destroyers of social organization; the creaters [sic] of human unhappiness and misery, the wreckers of spiritual values and the destroyers of the soul in men. I have written you in detail regarding my beliefs and convictions with respect to participation in war. I hope that you will understand the sincerity of my convictions and I surely appreciate your giving my appeal your thoughtful consideration.175 Despite such statements, the Sioux City draft board and Iowa board of appeal concluded that Albert was a secular and philosophical objector—not a genuine religious pacifist—and rejected his application for CO status. Why? First, they noted that he had enrolled in ROTC in college. Second, his twin brother, also a social worker, had joined the army, thus social work must not be antithetical to military service. Third, the FBI report, a part of his file, observed that some of Albert’s Pittsburgh neighbors were unaware that he was a pacifist, which raised questions about his sincerity and commitment. Fourth, Albert’s six-month membership in the Young People’s Socialist League in 1933 tagged him as a secular objector.176 In summary, Albert was not the typical religious pacifist affiliated with a historic peace church. Moreover, his case illustrated the difficulties of determining “religious training and belief” under the 1940 selective service law; it also demonstrated a key shortcoming of that law: the failure to recognize secular conscientious objection.177 On January 28, 1943, Albert traveled to Lincoln, Nebraska, and presented his appeal at a hearing before Hearing Officer Sterling F. Mutz of the Justice Department. (Albert had registered with Selective Service in Sioux City, Iowa, but had since moved to Beatrice, Nebraska.) In addition, at Mutz’s request, several days later he submitted a written reply to four questions posed by the hearing officer. In the event of an invasion, Albert wrote, he would rely on “non-violent resistance” and seek “not to break the will of the invader, but to win his soul for truth through love.” Besides, he asserted, “to combat aggression with aggression is futile and hopeless.” He also professed his patriotism, humanitarianism, and belief in democratic ideals but denied that “we can save

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democracy with the use of military force and the destruction of life and property in war.” To support his claim to religious objection, he affirmed his belief in Jesus, and to support his contention that Christ’s central message was love, he quoted Biblical verse: Matthew 5:44 (“Love your enemies”) and Matthew 5:9 (“Blessed are the peacemakers”). He also linked his occupation to his religious convictions. “To me,” he explained, “the application of the principles of social work . . . is the application of the principles of Christianity.”178 Albert acknowledged that his commitment to pacifism was “relatively recent” but insisted that it was sincere and based on religious principles. Even though he had not learned about—or joined—the FOR until September 1941, he observed that his opposition to war went back ten years. Not until he moved to Sioux City in 1938 did he begin “to crystalize” his thinking. In part, he attributed the late development of his ideas to his “dependence” on Frank, who was “somewhat my intellectual superior.” Over time and with increased independence, his initial objection to war on “political and economic grounds” had shifted to an opposition based on “moral and religious” considerations. “Under no circumstances will I ever murder my fellow man, nor will I indirectly assist others to do the killing by being a non-combatant,” he vowed, “for in so doing I carry the full weight of guilt as though I had done the actual murdering myself.” Proclaiming his willingness to die to uphold his convictions, Albert declared: “There are perhaps many causes worth dying for, but to me, certainly, there are none worth killing for.”179 Regarding his participation in ROTC, Albert explained that he had been “young and impressionable” and attracted to the “glamour” and “pomp” of military uniforms and pageantry. Furthermore, Louis, his older brother, had enrolled in ROTC, and he and his parents had advised Albert to take ROTC to avoid front-line duty in the event of war. He also confessed that the University of Pittsburgh had allowed students to choose between ROTC and physical education. Since in high school he “was too backward, self-conscious and dependent upon my twin brother to adjust to organized games,” he had joined ROTC to “escape” physical education. After a year he began to “abhor” ROTC and quit after his second year.180 On May 24, 1943, the appeal board unanimously upheld the local board’s ruling. Brigadier General Charles H. Grahl, the Iowa Selective Service director, refused to submit Albert’s case for presidential review; “the line had to be drawn somewhere,” he declared.181 In late May, Albert, on advice from NSBRO’s regional advisor Robert Root, wrote General Hershey (who handled these requests for Roosevelt) requesting a presidential appeal to change his 1-A classification to 4-E. He also asked—and Hershey agreed—to stay his June 21, 1943, induction during the appeal process.182 In addition, Albert had friends and family write Hershey attesting to his religious objection to war.

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Urging Hershey to grant him a presidential appeal, Albert’s supporters emphasized his patriotism, love of America, and commitment to democratic ideals; his sincere religious beliefs and pacifist convictions, which he had articulated at church services, as chair of the Beatrice FOR chapter, and elsewhere; and, finally, his personal courage.183 On June 1, Albert and Rev. Robert E. Drew, another NSBRO regional advisor who counseled him, traveled to Sioux City to visit Albert’s local board and examine his file, as permitted by law. In Sioux City they were informed that the file had been sent to state headquarters in Des Moines. Telephoning Des Moines and speaking with a Colonel Lancaster, Albert asked to examine his file. Lancaster initially said that the file was confidential, but once Albert cited the law (Section 605.32,1), he backtracked and agreed that the nonconfidential parts of the file could be examined, a restriction that Albert claimed violated his legal rights. Later, NSBRO advised Albert that the FBI report would remain confidential.184 In mid-June, Albert authorized Robert Root to review his file in Des Moines. Root informed him that his request for a 4-E classification had been rejected because his claim was based on “intellectual and philosophical rather than religious” grounds. After that conversation, Albert began to prepare himself psychologically for prison.185 More optimistically, he also prepared a rebuttal.186 Finally, in September 1943, after an unwavering twenty-month campaign of appeals, hearings, and letters, General Hershey, in response to Albert’s presidential appeal, granted him CO status. Apparently, Hershey did not offer Albert an explanation for his affirmative ruling, as none exists either in his letters to Frank or in his NSBRO file. However, the cogent testimonials submitted by his supporters and NSBRO’s considerable efforts and expertise undoubtedly were responsible for the reversal. Moreover, had Albert not been well educated, articulate, and able to write well; had he not had a strong support network of similarly literate family and friends to support him psychologically and to write persuasively on his behalf; had he not had the endorsement of a historic peace church community, in his case Beatrice’s Mennonites; and, had he not been a member of the FOR or some other pacifist organization, or if no such organization had existed, Albert likely would not have obtained CO status on appeal and would have gone to prison. Unlike objectors without these advantages, who compromised their convictions and went into the armed services or honored their pacifism and went to jail, Albert was fortunate. On September 30, 1943, the Selective Service ordered Albert to report for alternative civilian service at Hill City, South Dakota, by November 9.187 ★★★

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During World War II, Albert served in three CPS camps administered by the Mennonite Central Committee. From November 1943 to October 1944, Albert worked at Hill City, South Dakota (CPS camp #57).188 Under joint supervision by CPS and the Bureau of Reclamation, COs built Deerfield Dam—a “monument to peace”—to provide water for Rapid City and the valley below.189 Bureau of Reclamation engineers had jurisdiction over the work site, while the camp director—a CPS official—had authority over the camp and other matters. Assigned to the dam project, Albert shoveled dirt, operated a hand-run compacting machine, and did other common labor. On occasion, he worked in the project office. Stanley Voth, a fellow CO and friend, recalls that Albert was satisfied with his work, which he considered socially important.190 At Hill City, Albert took advantage of the camp’s cultural and recreational opportunities. He taught classes on the principles of pacifism and on psychologysociology.191 He signed up for courses on elementary radio, fundamentals of music, public speaking, Spanish, conversational German, and advanced first aid.192 He joined the camp chorus and helped to organize a ten-day Music Institute, the first ever in an MCC camp; under the leadership of a visiting professor, the institute organized singing events and offered music and singing instruction.193 Albert presented lectures on social work and syphilis to Fellowship Forum, a camp venue that permitted men to share their expertise and exchange views on social, political, and religious issues, including those related to COs.194 He remained “very active & helpful” in the camp’s religious activities.195 In addition, Albert hiked in the Black Hills. One Christmas weekend, Albert and several men hiked to Harney Peak. Pitching camp at Sylvan Lake, they talked by campfire late into the night and awoke beneath three inches of snow.196 Albert also coedited and wrote for the camp newspaper, the Rushmore Reflector. He condensed “Massacre by Bombing,” an indictment of Allied obliteration bombing written by British pacifist Vera Brittain.197 Reviewing Oswald Spengler’s The Decline of the West and Pitirim Sorokin’s The Crisis of Our Age, he offered an optimistic conclusion consistent with CO goals: “The crisis of our age is not the death agony of our society, but the birth pangs of a new form of culture that will rise with new values, a new vigor, and great creative force.”198 In an article on the importance of love in rearing happy, welladjusted children, he drew on his social work cases.199 CPSers participated in camp decision-making through elected camp councils. Hill City had a camp council, dormitory captains, and committees on religious life, music, social activities, recreation, and the canteen. As a respected leader at Hill City, Albert won election to different positions, including chairman of the camp council, member of the social committee,

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and camp dormitory representative.200 He also served as the acting educational director.201 Better educated and older than most campers, Albert provided leadership and intellectual companionship to a close-knit group of about eight like-minded campers. Rick Lowenberg, a member of this group, considered Albert a “role model.”202 Despite a significant non-Mennonite minority, most COs at Hill City were Mennonites, and most were satisfied with the work assignments and camp conditions. Through the pacifist press, CPS camp publications, and word-of-mouth, Hill City COs remained aware of protests at other camps, in particular at government-administered camps. In countless bull sessions and more formal venues, Albert and his co-campers discussed CO issues and protests, as well as their own lives and religious and social views. Albert also explained social work and its significant role in the development of his pacifism.203 According to Stanley Voth, Albert and most other campers thought that radical COs who waged nonviolent protests in other camps were unreasonable.204 But Lowenberg recalls that a group of friends, which included Albert, Voth, himself, and others, had sympathy for these radicals. At Hill City, most Mennonites, in line with their two-kingdom theology, nonresistance philosophy, and enthusiastic support for alternative service, rejected social protest in—or against—CPS.205 Unfortunately, Mennonite theological disputes created nasty divisions at Hill City, where Mennonites were divided into a fundamentalist minority and liberal majority. The infusion of non-Mennonite COs exacerbated the conflict. A small group of vocal Mennonite fundamentalists opposed smoking, drinking, swearing, and card playing. Despite a ban on smoking, some men routinely smoked in a nearby cave and under a bridge. The two factions also clashed over the content of camp publications and religious programs. Charged with “liberalism,” “modernism,” and lax moral enforcement, Paul Tschetter, the camp director, was dismissed in September 1944.206 In a petition to the MCC, seventy-one Hill City COs (about half the camp), including Albert, protested this “great injustice.”207 In an individual letter, Albert protested the MCC’s “inopportune, hasty and ill-advised” action, which he called “unjustifiable and most unchristian.” The charges against Tschetter, he wrote, were levied by “a small, discontented . . . group of self-righteous, ultra conservative men who have long been complainers and agitators, whose education, for the most part, is limited and whose vision, understanding and outlook is extremely narrow and prejudiced.” Further, he defended Tschetter’s administrative skills and praised his “spirit of democracy.”208 Even before this episode, Albert was a leader of a close-knit group of eight or so men—all theological liberals—who supported Tschetter and mainly ignored the fundamentalists.209

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Some local residents also objected to the non-fundamentalist COs who socialized in nearby Hill City town. Hostile intolerance toward COs, who many Americans viewed as shirking their patriotic duty, led the Selective Service to isolate most CPSers in former rural Civilian Conservation Corps camps, a decision motivated by political considerations. Actually, at Hill City, relations between the camp and town were generally good, but there were exceptions. One Hill City banker complained to the FBI that many COs who frequented town “enjoy drinking beer, playing pool, and play[ing] music on the jut[e] box.” Instead of frolicking in town, they “should be packing a gun, or stay confined to their camps.” More ominously, he warned, “It appears that some of them will have to fight right here in Hill City [against angry citizens]. . . . They are on the street so regularly, that it is not unusual to hear people say it is just about Dee-Day for them.” Undoubtedly, such sentiments contributed to the MCC’s decision to dismiss Tschetter.210 Not long after Tschetter departed, Albert, too, left Hill City for Denison, Iowa. From October 1944 to October 1945, Albert served at Denison (CPS camp #18). Like Hill City, Denison had been a Civilian Conservation Corps camp before the COs arrived. The MCC, which established a Foreign Relief Training Unit at Denison, asked Albert to transfer there to train COs for overseas relief missions. He agreed.211 Mostly, however, Denison COs built soil conservation dams and provided emergency farm labor for regional farmers. Due to the wartime labor shortage, COs were assigned to work on local farms. This bothered Albert, since his cheap labor competed with and undercut that of local workers. COs also built soil conservation dams for local farmers—mostly wealthy ones, as they were the ones able to pay for the construction materials. Beginning in 1943, the MCC organized a program of home canning and drying to provide nutritious food for the CPS camps that it administered; Denison served as a depot for the collection and distribution of this food. In November 1944, Albert used a furlough to earn one dollar per hour—good wages—by working for the Popcorn Growers and Distributors Company in Wall Lake, Iowa, the self-proclaimed popcorn capital of the world. Unlike the Deerfield Dam project at Hill City, farm labor struck Albert as neither socially significant nor a “forceful demonstration” of pacifism. Writing Frank not long after the “dark days” of Denison, Albert confided that he should have rejected CPS and gone to prison in order to protest conscription.212 Albert was involved in Denison’s social and cultural life. Writing on “Racial Prejudice” in the Vanguard, Denison’s camp newspaper, Albert blamed white racism—and the subsequent disproportionate sickness, illiteracy, and poverty among blacks—on the prevailing social environment. To overcome racial discrimination and afford blacks (and other minorities) equal opportunity, he urged the “wider application of the Christian principles of

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human brotherhood.” In the camp concert series, he spoke on “What is Music” and performed a Vivaldi violin concerto. On another occasion, he addressed fellow campers on peace.213 At Denison—as at Hill City and later at Mulberry—Albert and the other campers were aware of the debate over CPS that raged among COs. Camp newspapers published excerpts from the pacifist and peace press, and COs wrote articles addressing these issues. Assessing CPS in the Vanguard, Albert argued that its positive aspects would “far out-weigh” its negative features. He ably summarized the criticism of CPS levied by the more radical COs: conscription buttressed the war machine; CPS work was often trivial and insignificant; work assignments often did not match COs’ training and abilities; projects such as farm work and fencing advanced private profit rather than the common welfare; camps were regimented; the lack of dependency allotments was unfair and discriminatory; mandatory work without compensation under penalty of jail constituted slavery and involuntary servitude; and CPS was an “unholy alliance of government and the churches.” He did not dispute this “overwhelming” catalog of complaints. But, on the positive side, he maintained that CPS “broadened” COs, particularly the rural, parochial Mennonites who comprised most campers. It exposed them to new experiences, ideas, customs, and practices; encouraged understanding and tolerance; widened their “social, political and economic vistas”; and deepened their religious convictions. Finally, CPS would equip the campers to “contribute constructively” to their postwar communities.214 After Denison closed its Foreign Relief Training Unit, Albert sought either a job with the Displaced Persons program of the United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration (UNRRA), as did Frank, or a transfer to a camp more in accord with his social work interests.215 One such camp was Mulberry, Florida, a public health unit, where the MCC intended to use Albert as an instructor in the camp’s relief training program.216 From November 1945 to August 1946, Albert was assigned to Mulberry, Florida (CPS camp #27).217 Mulberry operated under the Polk County Health Department, though the MCC administered the camp. It was formed in August 1943 after Dr. Lawrence M. Zell, the county health officer, requested a CPS unit to improve local health conditions. Zell’s major project was hookworm control, since hookworm was a common parasite among the area’s poor workers who lacked adequate sanitary facilities. Other projects included controlling typhus, manufacturing portable housing units for tubercular patients, operating a training school for overseas relief work, and providing food for MCC’s canning project. Since hookworm prevention required improved sanitation, Mulberry built outdoor privies, 2,500 units by one estimate. The modern outhouses had

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concrete foundations and wooden (later metal) sides. Albert and the other campers did a variety of work. They sawed boards from logs, performed carpentry work, poured concrete, and installed privies.218 Albert, who was troubled by class and race inequalities, considered the work at Mulberry important, in part, because it helped poor, mainly black, citizens of the region. “Our program here is directly improving the health and the living standard of the Southern Negro . . . the most oppressed, most disease ridden, and most sub-marginal person in the United States,” he argued in a report to the MCC. In addition, such work conformed to “Biblical teachings and Christian Service,” he observed, as “Christ emphasized constructive service particularly as applied to underpriveledged, the downtrodden, the oppressed.” In a handwritten insert to the report, Albert noted that the health project offered opportunities at the local level to spread the Christian message and take “the teachings of non-resistance and peace” into the established churches. In summary, he declared that Mulberry’s health program “not only has immediate social significance to the local community, but it clearly has national importance and falls within the best meaning of the 1940 Selective Service and Training Act which defines the work for conscientious objectors as ‘work of national importance.’”219 At Mulberry, Albert continued to participate in camp affairs, pursue cultural activities, and visit local sites. He edited Box 96, the camp newspaper; he was elected religious life chairman; and he taught courses in camp for college credit. In December 1945, he led “A Service of Worship for Peace.” The following month, he spoke “On Human Frailty” and participated in a panel discussion entitled “CPS Men Look At CPS” at a Mennonite church in Sarasota.220 Albert was not a radical CO who opposed CPS, but he both advocated participatory camp management and acted to promote democratic principles in Mulberry’s decision-making. He, along with sixteen other discontented COs, signed a petition that requested a camp meeting to clarify and perhaps adjust camp policies on work hours, overtime, and the use of camp automobiles and the camp kitchen. The petition also called for a committee to study the issue and make recommendations based on “Christian democratic processes.” The results of the petition remain unclear, but, like the petition that he signed in Hill City, it provided evidence of Albert’s willingness to act on his convictions.221 Albert took numerous trips throughout central Florida. With other CPSers, he combined attendance at a Quaker service in St. Petersburg with a tour of the city, a swim in the Gulf of Mexico, and a covered dish dinner.222 On another visit to Sarasota, he and other COs spent the night on the beach.223 Most significantly, at least from the perspective of his increasing interest in civil rights, he and sixteen other CPSers visited Bethune-Cookman, a black college in Daytona Beach founded by black educator Mary Bethune. He

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addressed a college assembly on the “Principles of Peace,” discussed pacifism and race relations with the faculty, and mingled with the college community—at dinner, in class visits, and in a sporting match. The next day, they attended Sunday school with the students and visited a Negro Methodist Church, whose members were “overjoyed” that the COs ignored Jim Crow practices. “We had a great experience in brotherhood” at Bethune-Cookman, Albert reported to Frank and Christine.224 The disregard for Jim Crow by Albert and other COs led to a strained relationship with the local Mulberry community. Local citizens, who supported both the war and Jim Crow laws, took a dim view of COs and openly called them “nigger lovers.”225 In town, the COs obeyed Jim Crow regulations, but they also invited black leaders to visit their camp. Moreover, local whites probably realized that most CO-built outhouses went to underprivileged black citizens. Writing in Box 96, Albert called racism “the white problem”— “America’s number one problem.” 226 Like Bayard Rustin—whose article entitled “Non-Violence vs. Jim Crow” he had mailed to Frank three years before—Albert advocated nonviolent action to challenge racial discrimination.227 He particularly praised the Congress of Racial Equality (CORE), a civil rights group established by radical pacifists under FOR’s sponsorship in 1942. (All six founders of CORE were FOR members, four were WRL members, and three were COs.) During the next several decades, CORE helped to popularize the philosophy and methods of Gandhian nonviolent direct action to challenge racial discrimination. Significantly, in his ongoing debate with Frank over pacifism’s efficacy, Albert cited CORE’s successful nonviolent projects as evidence that radical pacifism could be effective.228 In summary, Albert considered Mulberry a “vast improvement” over Denison. “We are treated like adults, given responsibility, and our unit is very democratically operated,” he informed Frank. “This is what I’ve been hunting for!”229 Blocked by Congress from performing relief work in Asia or Europe, Albert engaged in significant social reconstruction projects on the home front. Paradoxically, while Frank returned from the Army and Philippines unscathed, Albert suffered serious injury in CPS. In November 1945, Albert broke his leg severely when he was thrown from a work truck that swerved to avoid collision with another car. He spent ten days in the hospital. Unfortunately, his leg was set poorly and healed improperly; doctors advised that without reconstructive surgery, he would have suffered permanent deformity. Albert and other COs suspected that the attending doctor, whom they believed disliked COs, had deliberately mis-set the leg. In addition, Albert criticized camp officials, who he thought moved too slowly to arrange corrective surgery, for their “remarkable lack of concern” and preoccupation with the “cost” involved.230 Writing from New Mexico, Frank called his twin “a cripple,

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a war casualty in every sense of the term” and urged the MCC to provide immediate treatment.231 In July 1946, Albert underwent reconstructive surgery in Philadelphia—but only after he threatened to sue Polk County to force them to pay for the operation.232 Albert never returned to camp work. He spent his entire remaining time in Mulberry and CPS in the hospital, on sick status, or on sick and furlough leave.233 Shortly after his accident, Albert wrote Nebraska’s Department of Assistance and Child Welfare seeking his old job. Since this required early discharge from CPS, he wrote General Hershey. Roman L. Gingerich, Mulberry’s director, supported Albert’s release from CPS so that he could return to Nebraska and resume his previous work. Selective Service rejected his request, however, and informed him that all discharges must occur under their demobilization plan. Several months later, he also applied to the American Friends Service Committee’s (AFSC) foreign service program, which he preferred to the MCC’s overseas relief program. Finally, with a job lined up in Maine, he was released from CPS on August 8, 1946.234 In a September 1946 letter to NSBRO, Albert thanked the agency for supporting him since 1942. “In those dark days when I was having so much difficulty with my draft case it was a source of real comfort to me to know that you were backing me and doing all you could do for me in Washington,” he declared.235 Writing to Hill City camper Rick Lowenberg from Grace Dietrich’s Philadelphia home where he was convalescing, Albert offered a harsh assessment of CPS—and of his sister’s culturally, intellectually, and spiritually “barren” (and racist) home. He declared that his CPS experience had been “the most frustrating of my life, the most unproductive and absolutely wasted. . . . C.P.S. to me has a thousand unpleasant memories to every pleasant one.”236 Anxiety over his leg and dissatisfaction over his sister’s sterile bourgeois life no doubt contributed to this hostile assessment. In another letter penned several weeks later from Maine—where he had begun his new social work position—Albert offered a decidedly more upbeat judgment of CPS.237 On balance, Albert’s wartime letters and other writing demonstrate that, with several exceptions, he considered CPS—and his contribution to the program—to be important and significant.

Epilogue and Conclusion In the postwar era, Frank and Albert resumed their social work careers. After working for a year as a child welfare worker in Roswell, New Mexico, Frank took a better-paying job as a psychiatric social worker with the Veterans’ Administration in Pueblo, Colorado. In 1951, he transferred to the VA Hospital—a psychiatric institution—in Fort Lyon, Colorado. Christine, who

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resumed her career, taught music in the public schools and gave private piano lessons. Besides Sally Lou, Frank and Christine had two more children, Susan Christine and Lawrence Edwards. Frank retired in 1976. Today, he and Christine live in a Mennonite retirement community in La Junta, Colorado.238 In 1977, Frank and Christine traveled to Germany and Austria with the Pueblo Colorado Symphony Orchestra. While there, they visited Friedrich Metz, Frank’s old pen pal, who showed them the sights. A German newspaper published an account of their long correspondence, their service in opposing armies, Metz’s internment, and Frank’s role in contacting his parents after the war. Interviewed for the story, Metz broke down and wept. Years later, two of Metz’s children and their spouses visited Frank and Christine in Colorado. As Metz had never spoken to them about his wartime experiences, they listened intently to what Frank could tell them about their father.239 Albert devoted his postwar career to social work in Bangor, Maine. From 1947 to 1978, he served as the executive director of Family and Child Services. In 1947, Albert married Mary Miller, a medical student from Boston then doing her residency at Eastern Maine General Hospital. They settled in Orrington, a Bangor suburb, where Mary was a general practitioner for many years before becoming a campus doctor at the University of Maine. Albert and Mary had three children, Mary Louise (Mary Lou), David, and Mark. They built a summer camp in Harborside, Maine, where they docked their boat, the “Family Fling.” Once their children were grown, they upgraded the camp and made it their permanent home. From his 1978 retirement until 1995, Albert had a private practice counseling DUIs (drunk drivers) referred by the courts. Albert died in June 2002.240 How do we explain Frank and Albert’s divergent paths on war and peace? In the absence of complete biographies, their choices are best explained by their different experiences in the half-decade before Pearl Harbor. Despite their close relationship and often parallel experiences through college, two events seem to have laid the basis for their different decisions on war and peace. In 1935, Frank visited Germany and witnessed the Nazi dictatorship firsthand. This experience led him to rethink his antiwar position and to endorse armed force to defeat Hitler. At the same time, Albert’s relationship with the Penners, the pacifist Mennonite family with whom he boarded in Nebraska, and his active involvement there with the FOR, strengthened his pacifist convictions. In their letters, Frank and Albert made principled, reasonable, and thoughtful arguments in their debate on war and peace and the effectiveness of nonviolent opposition to armed aggression—a debate with continued relevance. World War II GIs have been justly celebrated. According to Tom Brokaw, the citizen soldiers comprising “the greatest generation” withstood the Great Depression, won the “Good War,” and reformed postwar America. In the

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process, they preserved—and advanced—liberty, democracy, and progress at home and abroad.241 Less well-known and uncelebrated, eighteen thousand COs refused military service during World War II. Instead, they underwent prison terms or, like Albert, performed alternative civilian work in CPS. Unlike some radical pacifists, Albert did not engage in nonviolent direct action to protest the shortcomings of CPS, conscription, or racial discrimination. But, in CPS, he did participate in the MCC’s foreign relief training program; he did volunteer for wartime and postwar overseas relief work with the MCC and UNRRA; and he did oppose Jim Crow and advocate nonviolent action to advance civil rights. In addition, by risking prison to honor conscience, Albert honored his own peaceful convictions, demonstrated personal integrity, and strengthened the civil liberties and human rights tradition in America. No less than the citizen-soldiers celebrated by Tom Brokaw and Stephen Ambrose, COs fought for freedom, democracy, and social justice on the home front and overseas during and following the Second World War. They too are part of “the greatest generation.” Unlike GIs, however, COs have been largely forgotten. Fifty years after World War II, Mulberry CPS COs organized a reunion. Because of cancer, Albert—one of these forgotten COs—could not attend. But in a written message to his fellow CPS veterans, he reflected on the significance of their collective pacifist stand: But what I do want to emphasize is my fervent belief that we C.P.S.’ers at the time of the Second World War made the right decision in becoming Conscientious Objectors. As time has gone on, the importance of that decision becomes more clear and more evident not only for each one of us, but as [an] example to society as a whole. The first and greatest challenge today is avoiding war and the other great challenges including eliminating famine, pollution, preventable diseases and population growth. We must build a sustainable future for all mankind. I think our decision many years ago to oppose war should be seen as a guide to a new world. I am encouraged by the number of people coming gradually to our point of view with a growing peace movement all around the world. So, I say to my C.P.S. colleagues, their spouses and friends, STAY FIRM, HOLD TIGHT TO YOUR BELIEFS, SPREAD PEACE AND HARMONY WHEREVER YOU GO.242 Both Frank R. Dietrich and Albert G. Dietrich—one through military service and the other through conscientious objection—promoted American, indeed global, ideals during World War II.

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CHAPTER 1

1939–42: “Aren’t We Faced with the Choice of a Lesser of Two Evils?”

AGD-FRD, 7 November 1939, Sioux City, Iowa Dear Frank, . . . I, too, am busy as hell and am trying to scratch this letter off as rapidly as possible as I want to get to bed and grab-up some well needed rest. I am fussing around out here with a lot of busy-body things that simply keep me on the go. In the 1st place, as I think I told you before, I am taking two classes each week at the Art Center. This takes 2 of my nites—one class in ceramics and one in life drawing. In ceramics I completed a small statuette entitled “Poland[.]” It is a heavilly robed peasant woman kneeling with her head low and her hands covering her face. Right now, I am making a head portrait which I am calling “The Face of Fascism.” This is a very beastly but powerful face more in design than actual features. Well, besides the Art Center, I am messing around with this Social Worker’s Club of which I’ve already told you. Already criticism of our program has been made by a few leading business men who have “wondered whether Social Workers should be exposed to this kind of thing.”

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However, the Club Board is behind me 100% in this “controversial issue” idea for our program. Although, we have to put on satin slippers for our future moves, our speed and determination of purpose is unchanged. In fact, the business men’s criticism has produced a very interesting (and favorable) reaction on the entire Board. Such criticisms as the following have been elicited: “Well, what do they think we are, babes under their wings?” “After all, we’re mature and able to make up our own minds about things.” “Well, don’t they know we’re presenting both sides of every issue?” It is really amusing, for fire and fight have arisen where only lethargy was before. And now, in order to show our nobleness of purpose, we are getting one of the business-men critics to speak at our next meeting[,] presenting the employer’s side of the issue: Labor Relations in Modern Industry. This man is a prominent lawyer in the city and a long-standing member of the executive board of our agency. He thinks the idea is grand, now that he is given an opportunity to publically give his ideas. Well, the last thing to which I am giving much of my time is this Sioux City Civic Chorus. A stroke of fate, luck[,] chance or what have you? suddenly seated me in the President’s chair of this organization. I was elected to the Board at our last rehersal and the Board, after a hectic session, seated me where I really didn’t want to be. I am nervous about this & somewhat upset. I tried to pawn the job off on some of the other, older members but they all refused to accept the job on various grounds (most of which seemed rather week [sic] to me). My job is that of handeling the business and organizational end of the chorus. Our director, Mr. MacCollin will handle the musical end. Although I accepted this job with fears and tremblings (literal, real ones), the whole thing now offers a challenge to me which I am determined I am going to meet. Al. . . . P.S. Get the New Republic for Nov. 8th—It’s excellent.1 AGD ★★★

AGD-FRD, 26 June 1940, Sioux City, Iowa Frank, . . . I’ve been listening to the Reb.[Republican] Nat.[National] Convention broadcasts with a great deal of interest.2 It seems that the

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Republicans have not liberalized one iota of their party. [Herbert] Hoover’s speech the other nite was terribly weak (except for his wit and good humor which he never had when he was running before). The Republicans seem to agree with almost everything the New Deal has done. They are turning their guns not on the programs but on ways of conducting programs. They advocate farm assistance, relief, prepar[e]dness, even trade agreements, aid to the Allies (now Brittain only), hemisphere cooperation, conservation and almost all those other important things that spell out the New Deal. It seems that their whole campaign is going to be along the lines of declaring the incompetency of the New Deal to administer and project these (new-dealish) programs. As yet I have heard no really inspired speeches from the Republican camp. The best that Hoover could do was borrow a few phrases from Lincoln’s speeches (such as, “we cannot long exist 1/3 dependents and 2/3rds workers”) and incorporate these in his own speech. I think we are in need of a new leader—a different one from [Franklin D.] Roosevelt as Roosevelt’s foreign policy viewpoint is too short sighted—he is too emotionally prejudiced in favor of the Allies (Brittain)[.] But as yet I see no such leader emerging from the Republican camp and from the sound of their speeches they are all too inseparably tied with big-business big-money, big-industry to produce a real leader of the real people—the common man, you and I and the laboring man. We are in for reaction and it will come both from the Democrats and the Republicans. It will take a world leader to gather the world out of the chaos in which it spins. If he will not emerge in the U.S.A. perhaps he will come from elsewhere. But as I see it, nothing will do save the establishment of the world state. Certainly, Briton will not let this come to pass if she can stop it as little, week [sic], and satalite [sic] states scattered around the world has always been what she wanted. In fact, Briton already declares that if she wins the war (which she won’t, I’m sure) she’ll re-establish Poland, Czechoslovakia, Austria, Norway, Luximberg, France, Belguim, Holland, Denmark, etc. This would be a grave error. What the world needs is the breaking up of boundries so that there can always be free movement of goods and people everywhere. Al

★★★

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AGD-FRD, 9 August 1941, Beatrice, Nebraska Dear Frank, Once again I am on the banks of the Missouri in South Dakota—that region of which I am so familiar. I am at the bluff near where you and Yvonne [Norris] swam all day once upon a time. Beside me is the little phonograph and the Bach Kyrie Eleison reverberates against the cliff, in the shade of which we (Bach and myself) are sitting. It is truly a great church. The expanse of land to the west out over the many sand islands that have appeared in the river is tremendous. Things like this really overwhelm me. I drove up last night having decided to come at 10:00 P.M. My car sang like a top and I made the trip in 2 hours and 50 minutes. I camped out last night and slept like a log until the sun came out so hot this morning I nearly baked. I just came in from a refreshing swim and feel like really living. Yesterday, at last, I received that large envelope of mail which you sent me more than a month ago. I think it had gone everywhere. From the Sioux City YMCA, to 5001 Stone Ave, to the Family Welfare Bureau, to the Lincoln YMCA, to the Burwood Hotel, and at last to me at 601 N-11th St. Yesterday I got a nice letter from Susie Goldman in which she told of your trip to McConnell’s Mills, the rain storm, the cave, and the food.3 It sounded good. Those Pennsylvania hills and woods where there is really a rock in the ground once in a while are unexcelled. But the prairie has an enchantment all of its own, too, a kind of melancholy beauty that overpowers one in its vastness. Especially is this true in the evening when the unbelievable splendor of the sunset seems to be casting an incongruous giddy spell over the endless monotony of the land. As you have probably already noted, I am enclosing a check for $10.50, five dollars of which is for the typewriter for Gertrude [Dietrich] and $5.50 for the wedding gift to the Goldmans.4 I know I owe you a tidy sum of money but you’ll have to wait. Mother tells me you might go up to Connecticut about that job. I think that if you go for an interview you’ll get the job. When they go so far as to ask you to come for an interview, they are pretty certain that you are probably what they are looking for. My work is progressing fine. If I were you I wouldn’t be too stubborn about staying in the public welfare field. I am pretty much my own boss in this Child Welfare job and that’s something I never felt while in the relief work. Right now I am trying to develop some foster homes—boarding homes, free homes, work homes. Yesterday I tried to inject a news item in the local paper about the need for foster homes, and next week I am going to set up a booth at the County Fair where we will have a

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Child Welfare display and will try to interview briefly prospective foster parents, especially stable farm folk who come to the fair. This is interesting and fascinating stuff. Last week I was called upon to give two talks on Social Work (the use of resources) to a group of students who are in training to go on the state staff. This was a real challenge and I enjoyed doing the job. I simply got out my school note book and hashed over a lot of Newstetter’s thinking. . . . 5 I sure hope you get located in a good job somewhere soon. If we are not called by the army before Jan. 4th I guess we will be exempt. I sure hope so as my feelings about war and militarism have not changed one iota in spite of all the propaganda and war hysteria. Well, I’m anxious to take another swim. I’m putting on Rudy’s [Mamula] loud Tocatta and Fugue and will listen to it while paddeling around in the river.6 Tell Rudy I’ve already ordered a duplicate Bach T & F and he will be getting it soon. I’ve also ordered a July record for you. Al P.S. Sent a box to you with gifts for Pat & Bob [Van Sciver].7 There’s a book for Bob & a cute pin for Pat. I also got the wallet for Bob. Do just as you think best with this stuff. ★★★

FRD-AGD, 30 August 1941, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania Dear Al: It’s Saturday, so this is going to be short. Last time I sent you the penny postal card I was, of course, in a state of euphoria, because I had just accepted the position in New Mexico. The very next day, I came home and found my draft questionnaire awaiting me! That took me completely by surprise. My local number was far lower than I had thought it was. I’m scheduled to go either in September or October if I cannot get deferment. I’m set half crazy at the thought of losing my New Mexico job. At a time like this! If it had only come 3 or 4 months earlier it wouldn’t have made me feel so badly, but now!! Enough of this hysteria, though, and I’ll explain how matters are to this moment. Last night I went to my draft board & discussed the whole matter. They seemed somewhat sympathetic towards my situation and felt that I had some basis for deferment on the fact that I’ll be working in a defense area (Fort Wingate & Defense mining area) especially with families of soldiers. And since workers with the proper qualifications are

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scarce, deferment may be possible. My agency in N.M. would have to request deferment on this basis. I haven’t told the N.M. Dept. of Welfare as yet about this, & I don’t think I will until I get there. I’m supposed to report to work Sept. 22nd. Therefore, I’ll be seeing you about the middle of the week prior to the 22nd. Ed [Dobroski] got his Questionaire also.8 His company has already sent in a request for deferment on the basis of his employment in a required national defense industry. Tonight Dad & I are going to Chautauqua to bring mother home. It will be our last trip up. Grace has rented an apartment up there for the winter. The kids will start to the Chautauqua School next week. What about gifts for Susan [Soyak] & Esther?9 I told you I thought of records for Esther, but now I don’t believe I’d give that because they already have so many. For Esther, I thought I’d wait until I get west, and then find something. For Susan, I saw a nice small round roaster for $10.95. It’s about fourteen or 15 inches in diameter. Or there’s one of those electric broilers. I guess I have lots more to tell you, but I have to get out the orders now. Frank. ★★★

AGD-FRD, 3 September 1941, Beatrice, Nebraska [telegram] FRANK R. DIETRICK [sic]= IF FEASIBLE ASK FOR FORM 47 AND REGISTER AS CONSCIENTIOUS OBJECTOR STRONG SUPPORT IN USA.10 MY INTENTIONS. DETERMINE ATTITUDE BOARD TO JOB IF POSSIBLE FIRST= AL. ★★★

AGD-FRD, 2 October 1941, [Beatrice, Nebraska] Dear Frank— Happy Yom Kippur! Sorry about those writer’s cramps. I tried everything but couldn’t get out of it. Finally discovered a Miracle Healer in Wymore [Nebraska] who has been

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doing me the world of good giving kinetic electric treatments on the soles of my feet. In addition to curing my writer’s cramps it has relieved my constipation and eased my headaches. He is now working on my nerves and says that after he is through I should feel no pain nor should I ever be depressed again. Last week I registered for a class at the U. of Nebraska. I’m taking a course in Psychiatry. It’s an introductory course, but the most logical course I could get in for the type work I am doing. I’m glad to get up to Lincoln once each week and sure hope to get a little cultural stimulation. My difficulty has always been an inability to find intellectuals wherever I am. When I get into organizations I easily find my way to officers’ benches but often get disgusted with the lack of intellectuality within the organizations. For instance I have become rather active in the Peace organization here called the F.O.R.—The Fellowship of Reconciliation. The other week I was elected Vice Chairman of the group which means that within 6 months I automatically become chairman of the organization. Well, to me, the purpose of the organization is good, but the intellectual attack at the problem is almost nil. At times I think the organization has degenerated to the status of a social circle much on a par with a woman’s sewing circle. What is the remedy? I’ve found no musical organizations that interest me. Last week I went down to join the Beatrice Symphony, but when I heard them playing, I turned away—they were hacking such stuff as Veiled Beauty March etc. What is the remedy? The Penner’s home, while pleasant, clean, homey, is certainly culturally anaemic.11 If you go to a private home, take your time about picking. Try to find some young people with interests, an intellect, and an education if possible. Sincerely Al ★★★

AGD-FRD, 3 January 1941 [actually 1942], [Beatrice, Nebraska] Happy Birthday! Dear Frank— I received a letter the other day to the effect that my gift to you would not be delivered for another 20 days—war priorities or some such thing, I guess.

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Your gift [a sweater] to me was really lovely, but it is far too small. I am not wearing it because I wanted to write you to see if you could get an exchange. . . . I am surprised at your giving Dad a defense bond. If you wanted to send him money, why didn’t you send him $25.00? Why should we contribute so directly to war and destruction when we really don’t have to? Surely, you don’t really believe that this war effort is for defense alone. If it were wrong to kill yesterday, why isn’t it just as wrong to kill to-day? My stand in this war is taken and it is a firm one whether it leads to jail, joblessness, or the grave. Daily, I am disciplining myself for what is to come, for I am a soldier of peace and for this job it takes infinately more courage and discipline than is required of the soldier of war. You asked what I was doing Sun., Dec. 7th when formal fighting broke out between the U.S.A. and Japan. Well, I was visiting a social worker in Nebraska City, some 80 miles away. Paradox of paradoxes,—I was listening to a broadcast of the Bach B Minor Mass from some distant station. They were singing (in Latin) “Glory to God in the Highest, and on earth, peace, good will toward men.” This was interspursed with the jagged announcements of war coming in from local stations that were interfering with my distant station. I was terribly troubled and upset that day and this state of mind lasted for a week. I am more settled and resolved now, but even yet I have great periods of unrest, depression and fear come over me. In our office we have a patriotic sign posted which reads as follows:— America First If you are an American at heart, Act Like one. Speak the English Language If you don’t know it, LEARN IT., If you don’t Like it, MOVE. Gage County Defense Council Have you seen those vicious signs in the U.S. Post Offices which show a group of German soldiers who look like thugs? The group is singing a song something like this:—“We have all Germany now, But soon we shall have all the world.” This poster ends with the question, “Oh, Yeah?”12 How can intelligent, thinking people support this sort of thing? How can we who have always had a [humanitarian], planetary viewpoint support (even by buying a defense bond) this sort of narrow bigotry? If ever there were a need for integrity in men, it is now. Well, I can’t monkey around any longer with a letter to you. I am at the office and have a lot to do. I spent Christmas at a friend’s home—Dwight

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Dell’s.13 Had a wonderful Christmas on the farm—stayed all nite as my car broke down—very cultured home—Dwight’s sister played violin in candle light (rural power lines broke down because of heavy Christmas snows)— Handel, Mozart, Bach—beautifully. Farm isolated on prairie but warm and friendly. On walls of the home were paintings—oils, water colors, pastels— done by children—Then, discussion[,] intelligent, stimulating discussion. These isolated rural people were a thousand times better read and informed than I. Russia, war, pacifism, Communism, capitalism, books—these were some of the subjects discussed. This was a beautiful Christmas for me, one that was full of depth and significance. With the war and Mother’s passing so recently, I was naturally more contemplative, more serious, and yet, there was a joy that was a greater joy than that which I have experienced during previous Christmases. Brother Al In your next letter let’s see your positive side as well as your negative, or are you a gripper through and through? To me it is damn boring. AGD. ★★★

FRD-AGD, 22 January 1942, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania Dear Al, I had hoped to spend a whole evening writing a careful letter to you, but already it is 10:30 and I only have a few sheets of writing paper. So, limited by both time and space, I’ll form a letter on these few pages not nearly adequate for what I want to say. . . . It’s about the war that I want to write, primarily. I feel coldly sober about the whole thing—neither hysterically for nor hysterically against it. It’s nasty business, naturally, but I have to accept it as a plain reality and nothing more. And the sooner it’s over the better—for better or for worse. In this generation there is such a degeneration of values and ideals that there seems no alternative for overt expression of good. Even to the Nazis, this is true. They believe they are fighting for as just a cause as we think we are,—when actually neither cause is just or unjust. You know as well as I there is a multitude of causes for war—political, economic, religious, ethnological, cultural, and others. These

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various causes are as operative today as ever, with perhaps a greater emphasis now on one cause and in the past a greater emphasis on another. This letter, I can see, is going to clear my own thinking considerably, and I know I’ll refute my own arguments occasionally. But bear with me. The whole tendency in the modern world is toward a degeneration of ideals and values. There is no question that United States has had strong tendencies toward facism and nazism. We have seen these groups arise in the form of Coughlinites and similar groups.14 The only difference between the U.S. and Germany, then, is that Germany reached the state of greater degeneration of ideals before we did. There is no question that the minority persecutions of Germany are an overt expression of loss of ideals, loss of values. Our modern culture can no longer sustain the simple ideal of singing a madrigal perfectly, as was an Elizabethan ideal.15 Nor is there anything comparable in this day and age. The loss of such simple, beautiful expressions of values can be multiplied a thousandfold. I’m not advocating back to the spinning wheel—but I do insist upon a revivication of values and ideals. You ask, how can war accomplish this? Perhaps it can’t. But aren’t we faced with the choice of a lesser of two evils? Mankind’s history is a series of terrible struggles. Now we are faced with accepting as accomplished the total degeneration of ideals as expressed in the Hitler ideology; or defending these few ideals we might preserve with what few ideals we have. I know your answer. You say we do not have to make either choice, for we can be pacifists and there is no lesser of two evils to choose from. But that is too unrealistic for me. Even if Hitler should not be all conquering with his armies, certainly his ideologies are all-conquering. Why? It is because it is easier to live without organizing standards of judgements, without striving towards values and ideals. It hurts to think. And in this day, it is wonderfully easy to get along by simply having a mass-production sort of ideology poured into you. That is why Hitler has been so successful, and why the same thing could have or still might come to the United States. When I support this war, I cannot be at all sure of what I am defending, but I do know what I am fighting against, and that is spread of the loss of values and ideals. I think the American Revolution was one of the most crucial moments of mankind’s history. Its result was such a blow to England that the parliamentaryrepresentative form of government became strengthened a thousand-fold. And at the same time, a new democratic spirit became founded in the new world. Although it meant that for 170 years two nations would be competitive, even at the point of going to war against one another, yet in the long run, I believe the results of the American Revolution are eventually going to cement together two of the most traditionally democratic people the world has ever known. Had our forefathers submitted to England, might we not have been

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another India, only worse off, because we would not even have dealt the blow which ostracized the tyranny of unrepresentative government? In other words, while India suffers lack of representation, at least representative government is still alive, and we know will eventually come to India. You say the same results could have been accomplished passively without spilling a drop of blood. Maybe so, but it would have been much longer and much slower. What then, is the difference between losing men in battle or losing children, men and women because of poor nourishment, poor housing and bad working conditions for generations of passive resistance? Individually, we would not bear the guilt of having killed an innocent man, I know. But is the lack of such guilt still a virtue when it brings suffering and misery upon others, even those who are most dear to us? In other words, it is neither virtuous to kill in battle nor to give passive resistance (pacifism). The war to me is therefore a cold reality. I feel quite unemotional about it. When my time comes, I will go. I still love democracy, and will refuse to flaunt a law in a democracy. We can work to have the law changed, but we cannot afford to disregard it until it is changed. I just got a letter from Rudy today telling me he joined the Army. Rudy, of all people! Or rather, I guess one could expect it from him, for he is so pessimistic and dissatisfied. I guess my writing him glowing letters of my happiness out here didn’t help matters with him. His letters to me were surprisingly sentimental and never philosophical. In today’s letter he says: “Please keep in touch with me, Frank. Your last line about lying on the river bank was full of heart-aches to me.” His army enlistment is certainly comparable to suicide.16 Sincerely Frank . . .

★★★

AGD-FRD, 27 January 1942, Beatrice, Nebraska Dear Frank, Your letter provokes an immediate response. It indicates that you understand so little of the pacifist principles that it is almost pathetic. But before I begin I want to bawl you out for doing something which Ed, too, had been doing in his letters to me. That is this—you both assume that you know what

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my ideas and concepts are without my having expounded them, you quote me when I have not spoken. Let’s not have any more sentences like this: “You say the same results (achievement of representative government in England and America following the American Revolution) could have been accomplished passively without spilling a drop of blood.” No, I did not say anything of the sort. The very fact that you are quoting me (supposedly), putting your words into my mouth indicates that you yourself are in dreadful conflict and uncertainty about this touchy subject. You seem to believe that representative government could have been achieved “passively,” as you put it, and yet you see that it was achieved by force of arms and so you make some sort of conclusion that since it was achieved through war, it was achieved more rapidly than had it been brought about “passively.” This is all foolishness. Who knows? Might there not have been as many values lost in the Revolutionary war as gained? Where did those Elezabethan values go of which you speak? You admit they are gone. Might not wars have had something to do with the loss of ideals and values—even such a noble war as the American Revolution? But there is one point here I want to make clear at the start. We pacifists do not maintain that our ideals will be achieved without spilling a drop of blood. We are soldiers of peace just as much as the military soldier is the soldier of war, and for the task which we set before ourselves, we must discipline ourselves in no less fashion than the soldier of war. We are as ready to give up our lives for our cause as is the soldier of war. We recognize that in our army of peace there might be great spilling of blood, sacrifices, humiliation, scorn, torment. We know that if our ideals rise to the top, they will only do so on the sacrifices of our soldiers. Our war is a bloody war as are the wars of the militarists, but the war that we wage has this difference from that of the militarists: we will give life, but we will not take it. We hold that the greatest value in our civilization is the value of the individual personality. We believe that the purpose of the culture in which the individual finds himself should be that of granting the personality full expression so that it will flower to the maximum of its potentialities. To kill in order to sustain this ideal is an inconsistancy and a mockery of the ideal itself. We are profound believers in the democratic principles because we believe they foster the free expression of the individual personality, hence its development to full flower. But to us there is a value even greater than the abstract value of democracy, and that is this thing we have been talking about, the individual personality. All of us want democracy because we know that it has more to offer the individual, but to defend democracy by killing the thing which we know democracy can best bring to full development is a gross paradox of the worst kind. History has repeatedly proven that wars are never fought, actually and truely, for the great ideals and values that are expounded during their promotion. This war least of all. If

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America, England et al were sincerely interested in spreading democracy throughout the world, why did they not help the old German Republic? Why have they so consistently opposed the Soviet Republic? Why have they not strengthened their own “democracies” by purging their own houses of their many economic fascist empires? Surely you are not falling for the hollowsounding words that are being used to justify this war. War can save the world for nothing, it only destroys. You state at the beginning of your letter that “neither cause (the Nazis or Allied) is just or unjust,” then toward the end you say you love democracy and will join the ranks to fight for it. How crocked is your thinking? If neither side has a just or unjust cause, why get in the fight? Just to have a chance to murder your fellow men? No, I do not view this war coldly and unemotionally. I view it with a great amount of feeling and I hope I shall not let myself slip into that dangerous, indifferent state of mind which you describe wherein one can view the mass murdering of human beings as simply a “reality.” God forbid! I said in my college days that I would sit in jail sooner than participate in war. I have not changed my thinking one iota. There is no disgrace in going to prison for a great ideal, for a moral, ethical, and religious principle. I will die for it, but I will not kill for it, for as soon as I do that my great principle—the sacredness of the individual personality—dies. You complain all through your letter of the “degeneration of ideals and values in the modern world,” and yet, in a sense, you castigate me for clinging to those ideals which we formulated some years ago together and which you seem now to have kicked aside. If there is a degeneration of ideals in our time it is because intelligent individual[s] have not had enough fortitude to stay with their ideals when they are put to task over them. Ed writes me that he is enlisting. He is certainly taking the easy way, and that is to be expected of Ed. I am very much surprised to learn of Rudy’s being in the army. As you said at the end of your letter, that certainly is suicide, intellectual suicide for Rudy. There’s a question that comes to my mind: You say you will join this awful debacle because you believe in democracy, because you want to do everything you can to save democracy and perhaps spread it. Does it occur to you that with the attitude we are developing toward the Japanese people, democracy for them after we get through will be an impossibility? It seems to me that an attitude of helpfulness is a pre-requisite for doing something about spreading democracy. The silly part about this war is that even after we do subdue the Japanese people by crushing their military machine, we’ve got then to do something about solving their problems—those same problems for which we would not turn a hand before the war, and which, for the most part, are a cause of the war. Last week I heard Edward Lindeman speak in Omaha.17 He estimated that the war would last until at least 1945 and could cost the United

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States alone $200,000,000,000.00. By mid-summer of 1942 we will be devoting 50 per cent of our productive capacity for the production of weapons of destruction or things that will be destroyed in war! The ratio of military casualties to civilian casualties in England to date is one to fifty-five—one soldier killed for each 55 civilians. Never has the world embarked on such a gigantic program of destruction. How can one be unemotional about this? How can a reasonable person just sit back and accept these things with cold objectivity? We could undoubtedly solve all of Japan’s social & economic problems by spending 1/2 of the money and effort that we are going to spend to finally destroy her. (and incidentally, ourselves). You seem to think that we pacifists are flouting democracy by disobeying the laws passed in a democracy. We are doing nothing of the kind. In our Selective Service Act there were provisions made for the conscientious objector to war. We have registered like the rest of the men in accordance with the law. We receive our questionairs like the rest; we take our physical examinations like the rest, but instead of going to a military camp, we go to a Civilian Public Service Camp of which there are now about 12 or 13 spread throughout the country. Of course there are times when the local boards (not being in sympathy with our viewpoint and refusing to accept or recognize the provisions made in the law for the conscientious objector) refuse to classify the C.O. under the 4-E classification. In these instances we sometimes have to demonstrate the strength of our convictions by going to jail. But in most instances of this nature it is the local draft boards who have flouted a law of democracy, not the C.O. . . . Al ★★★

AGD-FRD, 18 February 1942, Beatrice, Nebraska Dear Frank— . . . Last week I received my Selective Service Questionnaire from the Sioux City Draft Board. This was the 1st I had heard from my Board. Naturally, I sent it back registering as a conscientious objector. I must now fill out form 47 which is the form on which one gives substantiating evidence for one’s objection to military service. I am absolutely positive that I am taking the correct stand. Ever since we gave up our R.O.T.C. courses at the University [of Pittsburgh] I have felt this way and I see no reason why I should give up my

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beliefs simply because we are actually embroiled in a war. If I have to sacrifice my life for a cause, I could do it willingly for peace, but never for war, least of all this war which seems to be more futile and hopeless than all before. What can any nation or individual gain by killing and destroying? Would we think of using the equivalent techniques which our Nation is now trying to use in settling international affairs in Social Case Work? Isn’t war the antithesis of all that we learned in the School of Applied Social Sciences? Is it based on understanding? On sympathy? On a willingness to help others (the Germans, Japs and other have-not peoples) with their problems? I don’t see that I could possibly be a social worker and at the same time contribute to this war effort. And I won’t change colors now simply because everyone else has joined the foray. I remember how often I used to resolve to myself when Doc. Elmer in Sociology class used to tell us that we couldn’t resist social pressure during wartime, that I, for one, would not succumb to the war maddness.18 I used to even say that if war came I would get out a soap box and preach against it on the streets. Well, that is obviously unwise and impractical as it would hurt the cause of peace rather than help it, but my feelings, nevertheless, have not changed. Sunday a week ago I had an accident with my car. I had gone for the weekend to Stanton, Nebraska and was returning home with Dwight Dell, Emmylu Gorertz [sic], and Dwight’s sister (married) Pauline.19 We had been visiting Pauline’s home. She is a fine, cultured girl, plays the violin beautifully, does oil painting, plays the piano and has a fine phonograph-combination. Well, it turned cold and snowed and we were driving on a slippery road. I was going about 45 miles an hour when the car hit a defect in the paving. The car began to sway, then skid and we plunged into a 4 or 5 foot ditch and turned completely over. It happened so quickly and suddenly, so unexpectedly that none of us were disturbed emotionally. I didn’t even have that usual sinking in the stomach which usually comes with near-accidents. Anyway, there we were, sitting on our necks on the roof of the car. For moments that seemed like hours, no one said a word. The silence was frightening. I thought of everything during those moments—gasoline and fire, doors jammed and an inferno, glass and blood, battery acid and eyes, how quick it had happened, yet how gently and easily we had spun around to land on our heads. I broke the silence. “Are you all right? How is everyone.” A chorus answered that was more overwhelming and brought me greater joy than any or all the choruses of Bach, Handel or Beethoven. “I’m all right, I’m all right. What happened?” everyone replied at the same time. Pauline and I tried to open the doors but we couldn’t get the latches to work. They seemed jammed. Suddenly, Pauline discovered that, being upside down, we had to work the latch handles in the opposite way. She opened her door and we crawled out—three of us from the front seat. I ran to the back door and opened it for Dwight. His face was streaming with

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blood. It was coming from his mouth and left ear. I thought of internal injuries immediately. But he was talking normally and insisting that he wasn’t hurt. We told him to come out, but he wouldn’t come. “No, no, I’m all right here,” he said. “It’s wet and snowy out there.” The ridiculousness of his statements was not apparent to us at the time. He looked a sight. Everything was piled on top of him—blankets, violins, music, books, suit cases, cushions, boxes everything—why it would seem more comfortable to him in this hubbub than out in the fresh air is a mystery. Anyway, we coaxed him and begged him and pulled him out. I grabbed the 1st aid kit (which we had purchased on last summer’s trip) and went down to the nearby farm house with him. He had received a cut on the ear from the dome light lense [sic] which his head struck and broke. The cut was not so bad but it bled like a slaughtered hog. The blood that I had previously seen coming from his mouth was simply running down his cheek to the mouth. Anyway, we got a wrecker, had the car uprighted, a few minor things fixed (radiator hose & headlight costing $5.75) and drove the 100 miles home. My car is now in the garage getting the many kinks knocked out of it—Cost $115.00 +. An expensive trip but I am terribly glad none of us was injured. My insurance will not pay for the damage to the car as I did not have collision coverage[.] I have borrowed from the bank to get the job done and will now be in debt for about 7 months. Recently I received a letter offering me a job as Probation Officer in Wash. D.C. at $2000 per year. I wrote them advising I would consider this after July 1st. I feel I am obligated to stay here in Nebraska at least one year. What do you think? I don’t believe I would like Washington at the present time and I believe all that I gain in salary would be more than lost in the high cost of living. Al. ★★★

FRD-AGD, 3 March 1942, Gallup, New Mexico Cactus seeds, very rare! [seeds attached with tape] Dear Al, In the hour I have to wait until it’s time to go down to the 20-30 Club meeting, I’ll dash a few lines off to you.20 This is in answer to your letter of January 27th, mailed considerably later, if you remember.

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After just re-reading that letter, I have little to say. I have no defense, except possibly a purely selfish, personal defense. I don’t know when in all my life I have had such consistent happiness as I have experienced out here in Gallup, or better, in the Southwest. I can’t dare disturb or jeopardize that happiness, and if I receive a call to join the Army, I’ll go, for I certainly hope to come back to New Mexico. Actually, I’d rather have a commission. I got a letter from home (and probably you did, too) from the Citizens’ Enrollment Committee of the U.S. Navy.21 I answered mine and a week ago I got a card stating that I’d receive further instructions within a few days. I haven’t heard anything yet. My fingers are crossed—backwards. I remember when I was in Beatrice and we had that [Fellowship of Reconciliation] Peace Session I asked one of the boys what he would do if an invader came to his very door, massacred his children and took off with his wife; what would he do? He replied hesitantly that he would fight, he guessed. Tell me your answer now. This seems to be the very crux of the problem, and I can’t quite figure it out. I guess it isn’t strange at all that we find all the glory-flag wavers so utterly ignorant of what the finale of the war will be. They are certainly having a huge time of it now. Their drab unimpressive lives are now suddenly filled with extreme importance, every minute of the day. It is as though they were shoving against the world to make it spin faster on its axis. My local County Executive is one of these people. But fortunately, she is leaving tomorrow and I won’t have to “respect” her opinions any more. My bosses in Santa Fé are the opposite. They insist that I can best serve my country, by remaining on the job here in Gallup as long as possible. Of course, they are right, too, because after all, Social Workers aren’t used (but probably needed) in the Army. Sunday I felt suddenly as though I were a twin again! For a long time I have not let my most intimate friends know that I was a twin. I just thought that it would be fun if you ever got down here. But Sunday when I was up at Christine’s [Dickey] house she suddenly said “Your brother looks something like you, doesn’t he?” I couldn’t contain myself, and laughingly, I burst out that I was a twin. The girl was practically stunned with surprise. I had been going with Christine steadily since last November, and she couldn’t possibly imagine two of me! I wish you could get down here for a winter vacation. Right now we have a wonderful snow for skiing up on the nearby mountains, and the days in Gallup are now long and warm. By the end of this month, the desert will begin blooming and that’s a sight I’m looking forward to. I can’t imagine having all that conflict last August over whether I should go to Bridgeport, Connecticut or come out here. All that terrific fuming over

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$20.00! I have the most grand climate in the world, the most beautiful scenery imaginable, and as interesting a job as I could want. . . . Sincerely, etc

Frank

★★★

AGD-FRD, 3 April 1942, [Beatrice, Nebraska] Dear Frank, I’m glad to hear you got a pay raise. How did you do it, black mail? I think I’ll come out to New Mexico, they probably need a good man out there. This joint never mentions anything about pay raises or any prospects for advancement. Saturday of this week I am taking the long awaited Merit exam for the job which I now hold.22 I am also taking an exam for a supervisor job in the Dept. of Assistance. I do think, though, in spite of all my griping, that they are grooming me for some sort of a supervisory job in the Division of Child Welfare. They have asked me to supervise the six case workers in our office on child welfare cases which they are carrying. This is done in order to qualify me on the Merit System register as having had so many months of supervisory experience.23 But I should like to get out of Nebraska. It’s too dead here, I mean the land, the scenery, the climate. I should like to get into Idaho, Arizona, Montana, Utah, Colorado or new mexico. The people here, however, are fine. I suppose people everyplace are fine, but I have certain friends here I should hate to leave. My closest friend here is a young farmer, Dwight Dell, 29 years of age. He lives with his folks, elderly people, on a 160 acre farm about 10 miles east of town. Dwight typifies the simple and natural in living with a dash of the intellectual. His father in his earlier days was a Brethren minister, so the family has had books and intelligent discussion. Dwight is a devout religionist but not a fundamentalist. For an isolated farmer, he has a surprisingly liberal viewpoint with respect to labor, the Soviet Union, Capitalism etc. Dwight is a very intelligent guy with capacities far beyond mine. He has been denied the opportunity of obtaining a good formal education due to economic distress. Nevertheless, Dwight reads endlessly and thinks fearlessly. He has come to

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many of the conclusions that we have with respect to religion, God, and Society, but went through none of the conflict and revolt that we went through. I often have wondered if it were necessary to go through that cynical period of thinking in order to arrive at the objective, scientific yet human viewpoint that I think we have reached. I know now that it is not necessary. Dwight did it and found little or no conflict with society’s status quo. In our lives there were times when our thinking was a great disturbance to both Mother and Dad. Dwight has found independent thinking gracefully, we found it awkwardly. This reminds me of something Dr. Teagarten [sic] said in our class last Spring: “The way to grow old gracefully, is to live gracefully through all your life.”24 Perhaps our revolt from the thinking of our parents was an outward expression of our unconscious hostility toward them. At any rate, I think such a thing should and can be avoided in any intelligent family. Dwight Dell, more than anyone else, has encouraged and stood by my conscientious objection to war. He himself is wholly opposed to the use of violence to achieve any end, and he is ready to pay any sacrifice necessary for the maintenance of his ideals. Many times when I have been depressed and upset about this whole business—the war, I mean—I have gone out to Dwight’s and have received encouragement to stand by my convictions through thick and thin. Our Court House has been putting on a drive for purchase of “Defense” bonds. We had pep meetings, patriotic rallies, posters, pledges, speeches. Because I would not purchase any bonds I was afraid for a while that I would lose my job. Finally I went to the County Director, [Andy N.] Thomsen, and explained my viewpoint and my position with respect to this war. Thomsen is an ardent militarist and a patriotic hater of Germany. He is a Dane by birth and thinks that since Hitler raped Denmark, the world should rape Germany and thereby right a wrong.25 Anyway, I told Thomsen that if my position embarrassed him in any way, I would resign. Much to my surprise, Thomsen laughed this off and said that he respects my viewpoint and my stand, [sic] I did not have to participate in purchasing the “defense” bonds. I offered him an alternative plan, that I pledge to purchase each month $5.00 in Quaker, Brethern, or Mennonite “Peace Bonds[,]” the money of which is to be used for [Civilian] Public Service Camps and reconstruction in war zones. This was entirely satisfactory. The head of the Division of Child Welfare was down from Lincoln yesterday, and I explained my position to her. She, too, said that she respects my viewpoint and that my attitude in no way would jeopardize my job or my standing with the Division. In fact, Miss [Elizabeth] Deuel said that she herself tended to be in accord with the pacifist viewpoint as she could not but see that the war [was] tragically futile. I have found that intelligent and thinking people everywhere feel much as I do about this war, they do not express this feeling yet they seem to admire the guy who does. I don’t see how

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I ever could participate in this murdur and destruction. Are you any more ready to kill Frederick [sic] Metz today than you were in 1935?26 In your last letter you asked what would we pacifists do if someone came into our very homes to take and abuse our loved one. This is a perennial question asked by everyone who does not know the pacifist way of life. Assuming that a person may be placed in such a position sometime in his lifetime (which is highly unlikely) the pacifist would not necessarily stand idly by. He would offer non-violent resistance to the bitter end. He would try to persuade. He would protect his loved one’s as far as possible without taking someone else’s life. He may give up his own life in the process. Like the social worker, he believes that satisfactory human relationships can only be based upon understanding. If someone is expressing hostility toward him, he first asks himself, “What have I done to deserve this?” When he answers this question, he makes amends, he corrects his own mistakes. He assumes some of the guilt and blame and takes steps to make adjustments. America might well ask what has she done to deserve the attack on Pearl Harbor. We are guilty of a great many wrongs against the oriental peoples. It is not surprising that we were attacked, it is surprising that the attackers held off as long as they did. We have never had friends in the far East, we have only had interests. But getting back to our hypothetical but none-the-less dasterdly attack on our loved ones, I will say that there might be an occasion when a true pacifist will have to witness the abuse of his loved ones at the hands of hostile fellow men. But this takes courage and self-discipline, more courage and more discipline than would be required in a retaliatory attack against the “invaders.” And most important, the end result is better—less destruction, less emotion, less injury to people on both sides. Pacifism works. There have been many historic precedents to prove that it works, the most outstanding of which is the relationship that was built up with the American Indians in the early days of the colonization of Pennsylvania. Wm. Penn, as you know, was a Quaker and made friends early with the Indians.27 While the New England and Virginia colonies were constantly having trouble with the Indians, Pennsylvania had practically none. The Quakers became known to the Indians as the “broad Brims” (because of thier hats), and they were often protected by the Indians themselves when trouble broke out with the non-Quaker white men. The Quakers would not kill and the Indians soon became fully aware of this, hence genuine fellowship resulted rather than hostility and endless, destructive warfare. I cannot see what we shall gain from this war even if we do score a “decisive victory,” (if there could be such a thing resulting from murder, plunder and destruction). It seems absolute folly to me to think that labor will gain anything from such a foray. The standard of living will be lowered for years

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and years to come, labor regimentation will be tightened rather than relaxed after the war; if we have Socialism or Communism it will be in name only, for the disorganization caused by the war will necessitate a rigid and tyrannical control of every phase of living. I think we are building up false illusions when we picture a better world after we have “won” the war. Several weeks ago I spent the week end at a young Negro doctor’s home. I had met his wife at the School of Social Work in Lincoln and Ruth Ezell, a fellow student, and I went down to spend the week end. It was very pleasant. Dr. Solomen had a wonderful phonograph-radio combination and I listened and listened to records. (He lives in Omaha—about 100 miles from here). I’ve planted many of your cacti seeds but nothing has sprouted. Do you have any Jack-and-the-bean-stalk seeds? Do you get in any swimming out there? Are you sun-tanned yet? What is your job like? What do you do? Dad is spreading the news that you enlisted in the Navy. Is that true? I didn’t get that from your last letter. So long for now,

Al. (It’s late & I’m tired) I’ll send your colored photos soon. They’re good, especially the ones of Grace and the kids at Chautauqua. Are you going to the National Conf. in New Orleans? I don’t have the money to go nor the tires. I’ve been doing a lot of foster home placing recently. Placed 3 boys this week, 2 delinquents and one 13 year old epileptic. I have 6 more placements to make. Took a boy to Father Flanagan’s Boys Town the other week.28 AGD

★★★

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FRD-AGD, 4 April 1942, Gallup, New Mexico Dear Al: I’ll just take a few minutes time to dash off a few lines to you. I only wish I could spare more time, for I feel I always have so much to say—about this country, my work, the people I’ve met, etc. But if I wait for a more opportune moment to write I’m afraid you’ll be a long time waiting. First of all, I haven’t heard a thing from my Selective Service Board since I left Pittsburgh in September. I received a letter from the Citizens’ Enrollment Committee of the U.S. Naval Reserves asking me if I were interested in applying for a commission. I wrote back saying yes. On March 3rd I received a card from them advising that I would receive further instructions from them for further procedure in a “few days.” I don’t know how many days a “few” are, but for over a month I haven’t heard a thing from them. I’d far rather get a commission in the Navy than be drafted. So it’s going to be a nip & tuck race.29 For the Easter holidays we got Good Friday & Saturday off. Our office didn’t notify us about the holidays until quite late, much to my awful regret. Had I known that such a long holiday was to be granted, I certainly would have planned a trip to the Grand Canyon. As it is, Christine & I are planning a trip to the Canyon April 11th & 12th. Christine is my future wife to be, I hope. She is a Music Supervisor for the Gallup schools here. She really is a wonderful person, and I’m terribly happy knowing her so well. I feel guilty about Winnie [Eley] down in Phoenix, because I really do think a lot of her. Winnie, by the way, is a C.O., a real pacifist. If you’re looking for a swell wife, I’ll trade her off to you for no more consideration than a thank you. Knowing Winnie has been swell, but you know that old story: Absence makes the heart grow fonder—for someone else. All this Good Friday and Saturday I haven’t heard a strain from Parsifal nor a note from the Brahm’s Requiem. Our radio stations down here are enough to make a person crazy. But tomorrow I’m singning in the community church service with the choir. We’re doing a number from the Messiah: Even Man Came By Death. Do you know it? It sure is a wonder. In addition, we’re doing a Gregorian Lord’s Prayer and a Sullivan Requiem. Later, I’m playing the viola in the Episcopal Church. Not solo, but with other instruments & choir & organ. There, they are going to do a Gounod Sanctus and part of a Berthould Tours Mass. The days here are becoming warm & pleasant. Already I have a beautiful sun burn on my back. All afternoon yesterday I spent on the Indian Reservation lying in the sun reading or climbing around the red cliffs. I was

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alone, because most of my friends were either working or had left town for the holidays. It was a beautiful experience. Ed is coming out here. He is to be drafted April 13th so he decided to spend himself on a last farewell vacation before going to the slaughter. I expect he’ll be here by the middle of next week.30 Perhaps he’ll stop in Beatrice on his way out here. Have you heard from him? . . . I told you in my card from Santa Fe that I had been given a raise to $150.00 per month. After all my struggle back home to decide whether to take this job or the one in Connecticut paying $150, I’m more than convinced that I made the right choice. Even if I had never gotten the raise, I think it would have been right, too. This is really a swell outfit to work for. We have a wonderful staff. I have to go now to get Christine and eat supper. She’s practicing with the choir at the Methodist Church. Our Methodist minister is such a dumb bloak [fellow] that I rarely go near the church. Let me hear from you real soon. I’m enclosing a copy of a case record that I had typed in duplicate. I thought you might be interested. Sincerely, etc. Frank

★★★

FRD-AGD, [17 or 19 April 1942], Gallup, New Mexico Dear Al, . . . Yesterday I took writing paper and fountain pen to the rocks near Kit Carson’s Cave with the intent of writing you from there. When I got there, the wind was blowing so violently, I found it impractical to write. I’m sorry now that this letter can’t have the flavor of that beautiful mesa country where I was yesterday. . . . What vacation plans, if any, are you making? I believe I’ll take the week of July 6th to 11th off and go down to Arkansas where Christine lives. Why don’t you come out for a spell? Or were you thinking of getting back home? I simply can’t because I won’t have enough time or money. I haven’t heard a thing more from my Selective Service Board. I sure hate to wait in this suspense.

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The weekend you spent in Sioux City I was spending in Santa Fé. Christine, Bobbye Mullins (female)[,] Mr. Mullins and I went up to Holy Ghost Canyon and fished.31 It was a glorious day. I didn’t get any fish, but that didn’t matter. Frank ★★★

FRD-AGD, About 25 April 1942, Grand Canyon, New Mexico Dear Al: Thanks for the camera. It came just in time, a few hours before we left. Six of us, including Christine, have spent a wonderful week end down here. Living in New Mexico is really something out of this world. I received word from the Navy advising me to go to Los Angeles for a personal interview. I telephoned Dad on Easter and spent $10.25 for the call, but it was worth it, to hear Dad’s voice. He seemed quite depressed, however. Keep writing him regularly. I wish you were enjoying this with us. Frank ★★★

AGD-FRD, 4 May 1942, Beatrice, Nebraska Dear Frank— . . . When are you taking your vacation? If possible, we should try to get our vacations together and then go home for a while. Or will you be shooting Japs by that time? I have never heard from my draft board since sending in my questionaire last February. I asked for form 47 on which argument is given substantiating one’s conscientious objection to fighting. Although the law states that this form must be submitted within 5 (or ten, I’m not sure right now) days following the submission of the questionaire, I have not sent mine in as my Selective Service Board has not sent me the blank form. I may get into trouble over this, but what can I do? One thing sure, being a social worker, I

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could never tote a gun to hunt down human beings and kill them. Nor could I contribute indirectly to this effort made by others even though I myself do not carry the gun. There is nothing more wrong than this war, nothing more tragic and hopeless. Al . . . In spite of its desolation, etc. I think I like Nebraska about as well as you do New Mexico. I have so many friends here I should hate to leave even for the desert, canyon, mountain, lizzard country of the South-west. Al FRD-AGD, 7 May 1942, Los Angeles, California [postcard] 32 ★★★

Dear Al: I came out here for a personal interview re: my Naval application, but the Navy chased me home. They don’t need any C.W.W’s [Child Welfare Workers].33 Anyway, I got a pleasant vacation. Jack Rothweiler is out here. I saw him in Gallup last week. Frank

★★★

FRD-AGD, 17 June 1942, Gallup, New Mexico Dear Al, I have a stack of letters I’ve been trying to answer. For the last few months I’ve been comparatively negligent about writing because when Spring came to this country there were too many places to go and see rather than sit around writing letters. I have been hearing periodically from friends back home. Ed

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has been deluging me with post cards, with always cheerful notes about how he likes the Army and how sun-burnt he is. When I last heard from him he was in Louisiana and expected to pass thru New Mexico. Rudy has been writing me fairly often. He had hopes of getting into Officers’ training, last I heard from him. It was either that or being sent across. Archie Goldman has been expecting to go to the Army. I last heard from them about two months ago. Mildred married Milton Rosenblatt, the meteorologist at the air port.34 They are now practically neighbors of mine, living in San Angelo, Texas where Milt is teaching Meteorology to Army men. Lester Trimble has written me occasionally.35 Two months ago, Gene [Eugene] Phillips was to go to the Army.36 I guess Lester will be left for a while because he’s supporting the family now. He’s working with Duquesne Light Co. instead of Volkwein’s.37 Monday, I had another physical examination for the Army, so I don’t expect to last here more than 3 or 4 weeks. I have my choice of being inducted here or in Pittsburgh. I chose Pgh., because I thought I’d drive home, stop off in Texas to see Mildred, Arkansas to see Christine, Nebraska to see you and finally home. I’ll let you know of more definite plans later. This is entirely tentative. I don’t know how much time they’re going to give me, and my money is a little low now[.] (I foolishly bought a suit last month, but I was tired going around in rags[.]) I don’t know what I’ll do with all my stuff. I guess it couldn’t do you much good either. I thought I’d leave some of my records with friends here and take a few prized albums with me. If any of my clothing or junk could do you any good, let me know. Today I drove 58 miles to see a client. Then, in the late afternoon instead of returning to Gallup, I drove up to Chaco Canyon, a spot I had long been wanting to see.38 I thought this would be my last chance, so I took it. I was quite alone, except for my portable phonograph and two record albums—the Scarlatti and Early American Ballads. Chaco Canyon is amazing because it is a broad Canyon valley in which it is estimated 10,000 people lived. There are pueblo and cliff ruins everywhere. Some have been excavated and are in a remarkable state of preservation, even some of the wooden and thatched roofs withstanding the ravages of time. These people lived here between 1000 AD and 1300 AD. Some of the dwellings are as high as four stories—just think[,] masonry not attached to the cliffs at all. One “city” had as many as 880 rooms. Last Saturday and Sunday I camped with friends at Canyon de Chelly.39 Here again we saw innumerable cliff dwellings. These were actually perched high on the cliff in large caves. Canyon de Chelly is remarkable because of its unimaginable beauty. It is a canyon of red sandstone with sheer cliffs 1,000 feet from river bed to the top. The valley floor is broad and flat, and the “river” rarely runs except in short wet seasons. We tramped all day Sunday in this out

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of the world paradise. Navajos live in the bottom and till their small fields of corn. We even ate at a Navajo home. Having failed to carry food with us when we left camp, we began realizing our mistake when it came noon. So we asked some Navajo women if they’d cook a meal for us. They said they would, so we had flat Indian bread, mutton, coffee with unrationed sugar. Four of us ate heartily. We paid our hosts $1.00. The hosts, by the way, consisted of two Navajo women, two girls, two babies, two rabbits, a pet chicken, a pet kid, and a dog. This great family was living in a single tent. It was their summer home, for as you may know, the Navajos are wanderers, herding sheep in the summer and settling down in a hogan for the winter.40 These are the things I’ll miss terribly when I have to leave this country, and I certainly hope to return to New Mexico again. I really think you should try the Southwest. It’s so stimulating and incredible. Well, let me hear from you Al. I haven’t gotten a letter from Dad for a very long time. I wonder how he is. I always answer his letters promptly. Maybe he’s forgotten that I answered his last one. Louis and Gert have forgotten me completely. Love

Frank

★★★

Albert G. Dietrich to Local Board Number 3, Woodbury County, Sioux City, Iowa, 23 June 1942, Beatrice, Nebraska Dear Sirs: I hereby appeal to the Board of Appeals from the determination of my Local Board in classifying me as I-A instead of IV-E.41 I am enclosing a statement directed to the Board of Appeal in which I specify the respects in which I believe my local board erred in classifying me as I-A instead of IV-E. ★★★

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Albert G. Dietrich, NSBRO Form, [c. June 1942] [In typescript on document: Classified by local board 1-A; Classified by Board of Appeals, 1-A, by 5-0 vote; seeks IV-E]42 I believe that human life is sacred. From it emanates from the spiritual, in it dwells God. Our responsibility in accordance with Christ’s purpose is to save life, not to destroy it. (Luke, 9:59) Carnal warfare & violence is not in accord with the principle of Christ’s kingdom for the taking of the life, even of the most abject sinner, is a denial of that soul’s chances for salvation. Good alone can overcome evil, and the practical application of the law of love, therefore, is the only way that peace may be established and maintained among all peoples everywhere. I hold that the greatest sin is to destroy a human personality and I accept the Lord’s commandment, “Thou shalt not kill.” without reservations as to time, place or circumstances. ★★★

AGD-FRD, 26 June 1942, [Beatrice, Nebraska] Dear Frank— Like everyone else, I have so many unanswered letters I’m kind of overrun and hardly know where to begin. Your Emergency Relief Administration letter of 6-23-42 entices me not a little bit. The possibility of coming out to New Mexico and see[ing] the Inter-Tribal Indial [Indian] Ceremonial at Gallup is sure allurring. But I really don’t see how I can make it. In the first place, I have the feeling I should go home and to Chautauqua this vacation. In the second place, I don’t have much money and a trip out there now would be rather expensive. I couldn’t drive as my tires are not good enough. I would like to come out, though, and camp out all the way. Maybe I could hitch hike with a pack of covers on my back. Oh, boy!! In the third place there is so much uncertainity about my status with the draft board that I don’t know from one day to the next what is going to happen. I believe I told you I now have a I-A classification. I have already sent in an appeal for a re-classification and this will be followed up by an F.B.I. investigation. Undoubtedly, the F.B.I. man investigating will get in touch with you about this because I gave your name as a reference. Answer all his questions frankly and honestly. There is nothing to

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evade. I believe they will want to concentrate upon gathering material to prove or disprove the sincerity of my stand against war. As you know, I am determined to fight this thing out to the bitter end whether it means sitting in jail for the duration or dieing for a cause I really believe in. I hold that if one accepts war as an instrument for the solution of the world’s ills, one cannot accept social work, its principles and aims. The two are the antithesis of one another. Well, I’m not going to burden you again with my minority stand, I am having enough trouble sticking to my job here and living in my community under this war hysteria without spreading my trouble to New Mexico. Last month I was called in to the State Office to explain my stand about this war. Mr. [Neil C.] Vandemour, Director of the State Dept. of Assistance and Child Welfare had heard that I was not in sympathy with the war effort and had become quite concerned about having such a person on the staff. Mr. Thomsen (who, by the way, has been extremely fine about it) and I went to Lincoln and had an hour and a quarter session with Mr. V. Mr. Vandemour is a World War I veteran, a patriot and nationalist of the first order. He didn’t seem to know what the score was so far as conscientious objectors are concerned. He did not even know that the government is recognizing the conscientious objector. He told me a lot of stuff about my going to a concentration camp. When I told him I should like to do re-construction work in wardevastated areas, he told me that that would be helping the enemy. He finally said, and repeated several times before I was out of there, that the State Department could not have anyone on its staff who is not contributing to the war effort in this emergency. Well, he did not fire me outright (he could, however, as I am not yet on the Merit System register since we just completed our tests recently), but he left a decision pending the final classification by my Draft Board. He made me promise to write my Draft Board regarding my classification which I did and this stirred everything up when it was relatively dormant. The more I read and the more I hear about this war the more futile and hopeless it appears to me. No one wins a war, we shall again see that, I am sure. Golly, it’s been cold here. You would hardly believe this, but last Wednesday, June 24th, we had to have a fire in the furnace at Penners here in order to keep comfortable. Actually, we have not had one really hot day this year yet. I have gotten in very little swimming and little sunning. With the cold we have had rain, rain, rain. Our river’s been up and over the banks time and time again. All this week it has been very high and in places flooding fields that lay low. Wheat and corn and oats have been growing to beat the band, but so have the weeds and to make matters bad, the ground has been so soft that farmers have been unable to get out and cultivate the weeds under. Then, too, the dampness is bringing out a rust on the wheat that may do a great amount of damage before the harvest is in.

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Last week the father of one of my good friends, Mr. G. A. Wiebe, was killed in a farm accident. The farm is sure one dangerous place. So many things can happen. Mr. Weibe’s horses ran away with the hay rack and hay loader. He caught them and stopped them, but then tripped and fell right in front of them and they bolted as soon as they saw this. They dragged the wheels of the rack and hay loader right over his head. I spent many hours at the Wiebe home last week helping out with the chores and doing what I could. Since mother’s passing, I have a real appreciation of the sorrow that such things bring. Are you buying any more phonograph records? I’m laying low right now, but since I saw you last I have bought a few. I got 8 more records of the Bach B Minor Mass, Mozart’s “Eine Kleine Nacht Musik,” Mozart’s Quintet for Clarinet and Strings with Benny Goodman & Mozart’s Violin Concerto in E flat Major, the one I have the music for and now and then hack out. Then I got one or two miscellaneous Bach records. I’ve bot a few books, too, Hunter’s White Corpuscles in Europe,43 an account of the pacifists in Europe during the present struggle, Strong’s “This Soviet World,” and also her “The Soviets Expected It!”44 I’ve subscribed to Soviet Russia Today, too.45 Ed sent me a lot of literature just when I felt in the dough and so I spent. I have many more letters to write tonight and cannot start another sheet. I’ve been hearing from Ed and Rudy regularly. So long, Al. . . .

★★★

FRD-AGD, 6 July 1942, Gallup, New Mexico (telegram) ALBERT G DIETRICH= . . . TO BE INDUCTED JULY TONIGHT=FRANK

17TH

★★★

WILL

TELEPHONE

YOU

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FRD-AGD, 18 August 1942, Clearwater, Florida Dear Al, I thought when I left home I’d be writing long letters to everyone about the Army, but I discovered I was capable of writing very few letters—most of them directed to Dad. It’s hard to explain just why. In the first place, I fell into Army life much easier than I expected so that I was really enjoying it and therefore, did not feel the extreme need to maintain outside contacts. In the second place, I found writing letters made me intellectualize just a little too much and I would begin finding myself not liking the Army. It would be a very long story indeed to transcribe all that has happened since July 31st, the day I left Pittsburgh for Ft. Meade, Maryland. By far the hardest point was leaving. Dad drove me over to Elliot where he waited around a short while as the conscriptees were gathering.46 Dad was brave about it all, and so was I. He merely said he didn’t think Mother could have ever stood this kind of a departure. But he tried to be cheering, telling me that he thought the war would be over by the time my training was completed. I disbelieved him, but said nothing. The long train trip from Pittsburgh to Ft. Meade lasted from ten in the morning until about 7 in the evening. As I look back now, I believe it has been this train trip which I hated most. There was apprehension because of so much unknown before me. Then, too, I did not feel much a part of the boys in the coach with me. They were crude, rough and generally annoying. The first thing we got at Ft. Meade was a late supper, then all underwent a short arm inspection.47 Finally, we were assigned our bunks and after a refreshing shower bath, we found ourselves resting comfortably in the barracks. I slept well, too, and when the whistle blew at 4:30 AM to get us up, I awoke with considerable startlement. Then, life at Ft Meade began. It was mostly long waiting in line before anything happened to you—waiting for the I.Q. tests, waiting for the issuance of clothing, waiting for breakfast, dinner and supper. The sergeants and corporals in charge of each platoon or barrack are extremely ignorant fellows who can’t even use correct English. They are mostly incompetent fellows who are overwhelmed with their power of authority. So, they curse and curse until the air is blue. But beneath it all, it’s just bark, for they have no authority whatsoever to bite. These corporals and sergeants could be the most stinging part of the Army for an intelligent fellow to accept, because it is galling to think of such an ignorant fool lording it over

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you. But if one keeps his ears clean, his eyes open and mouth shut, there’s little danger of any trouble developing. The barking is usually directed at the dumb conscriptees with IQ’s of 42 1/2 or less. The corporals and sergeants only have IQ’s of 45. I wish I could write everything about all this, but there’s neither time nor patience on my part. When we get together again, there will be much to discuss. Fortunately for me, Chester Smudzinski came to Ft. Meade with me (from Camden) and I was placed in the same barracks with Bill Ligget.48 Bill is an old friend from Pitt I had met thru Alma Mocher. 49 He had several parties with the Soyaks. I guess that was when you were in Sioux City. Anyway, I always liked Bill, and he was interested in Social Work, having done some volunteer group work. So Chester and Bill and I were constant companions in the evenings when drills or inspections were over. It was pleasant, because we always looked forward to seeing each other when the duties of each day were done. After a week, I was shipped out of Ft Meade first, and right now I don’t know where either Chester or Bill is. When I left Ft. Meade, no one knew where I was going or what section of the Army I was assigned. This naturally left me in a state of apprehension again. Chester jokingly said I’d die if I’d find myself in the infantry, and I told him I surely would die. Well, lo and behold, after a night and a day’s train ride, we found ourselves in St. Petersburg, Florida assigned to the Army Air Forces. Of course, most of the boys thought this was wonderful, and I myself felt it was some degree better than the infantry. Following several aptitude tests I found I qualified for every one I took, viz., airplane mechanic, radio operator and mechanic, clerical worker, airplane armorer, gunner and several other minor jobs. I wanted most of all meteorology but didn’t qualify because of lack of college physics. So I chose radio operator and mechanic. The crucial points in the army career are the personal interview. You remember Dr. Hathway spoke to me about them.50 As she suggested, I had prepared a short summary of my experience and training. My interviewer at Ft. Meade agreed with me that I should be placed in the personnel division, but this was impossible, because only physically handicapped could be placed at such work. The interviewer here in St. Petersburg was quite wonderful. I knew as soon as I approached him that he was sensible. He smiled and immediately put me at ease. I discovered his wife is a Social Worker. He himself was a violinist familiar with all the great Beethoven quartets. Well, rather than get stuck pounding a typewriter forever, I chose radio, more for the adventure of new experience than anything else.

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I’d like to tell you about this glorious country, but I don’t have any more time. Say hello to Ed for me, and I’ll write to him soon. Sincerely

Frank

★★★

FRD-AGD, 31 August 1942, Sioux Falls, South Dakota Dear Al, . . . Your letter of August 7th I received exactly 20 days later, and for that reason I have never acknowledged receipt of your $5.00 check. Thanks a lot, Al, but please don’t make any sacrifices on your part to supply me with money. I didn’t particularly need money because I hadn’t been able to get off the posts to spend any. However, last Saturday and Sunday were the first free days I had since coming into the Army. Needless to say, it was a wonderful feeling to feel “free” at least momentarily. So, Saturday evening I did squander your $5.00. Most soldiers hurried to bars for drinks when they got their passes for the first time. I and another fellow, Herbert Maltz, went directly to a record shop and listened to good music. I put your $5.00 down on the first volume of Beethoven’s Missa Solemnis.51 Lord God, was it a treat to hear the full chorus and orchestra ringing in my ears after such a long period of abstinence! I don’t know what in the world I’ll do with the records, because they’ll certainly be an encumberance, but as long as I’m here, I have the privelege of going into the record shop to hear my records and others if I like. I know, Al, it sometimes must be hard for you because of your C.O. stand, but Lord, stay firm. I think you’re dead right. Because I’m fairly satisfied in the Army doesn’t mean anything. This ain’t exactly a bed of roses; don’t get that idea and I’d be glad to be a civilian any second. This Army is postively numbing.— (This is an example of the “numbingness” of the Army. There are always interruptions. Between the last paragraph and this, there was an interval for chow. We can never sit down without some sort of interruption—usually more silly than eating.)

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The crudity of the majority of the boys is postively appaling [sic] to me. And worst of all, I’d say easy over 50% of them here are college graduates or had some college training. It’s the rare few who are sensitive to a few of the finer things that sustain my morale. Yesterday I met two liberals—the first I’ve come upon since I’ve been a warrior. I know they’re around, but it’s hard to find them. Most of the boys in my barracks beef about labor as though labor were the great poisonous snake in the grass. Now, about next week-end. Do you plan to come up? Unfortunately we have been transferred to evening school schedule for this month. That means that I won’t be thru school Saturday night until 10:20 P.M. I can’t get out of here until Sunday morning at 10:00 AM at the earliest. However, I’m going to apply for a 24 hour pass so I can get out Sat. night. If I can get it, I’ll go to the YMCA and await you there and get a room if necessary. I’ll telegraph or ’phone you about Friday. If you think it’s too hard on tires, can you come up by bus or train? Let me know your plans. Sincerely Frank. P.S. The mails aren’t very reliable at an Army base. ★★★

AGD-FRD, 6 October 1942, [Beatrice, Nebraska] Dear Frank . . . In just a few minutes I am going to our weekly meeting of the Beatrice Peace Fellowship. The chairmanship has now passed to other hands & I am sure glad as it was a burden & responsibility to prepare programs for the group each week. It has been hard to make progress with the group. . . . . . . I am now directing a church chior [sic]. . . . More news: This week I received a communication from the New Mexican Merit Council asking me whether I would accept a job at 160 dollars per month as Child Welfare Worker in New Mex. I wrote back air mail (they sent the air mail envelope) stating that I would accept. I hope to go to New Mexico soon, but dear knows what my draft status, or rather lack of status will do to me. Do you know what their attitude would be toward a conscientious objector? Is there anyone in the office who would be tollerant? With whom should I get in touch?

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. . . As you probably know, Ed [Francel?]52 was rejected for the army because of his hay fever. He is back at the job at the State Office & we sure need him here as our whole Division is terribly under staffed. Just a word to tell you that I joined the Union, The Nebraska Assn. of Government Employees, an A.F. of L. Union. I like it & hope to be active. ——A. How’s School? Do you hear from Ed Dobroski? I haven’t heard for a long time & guessed he went somewhere with the Army. ★★★

AGD-FRD, 29 October 1942, [Beatrice, Nebraska] Dear Frank— . . . I am writing to you at the office because I have something troubling me and need some advice p.d.q. [pretty damn quick] Yesterday I was offered a job in Arizona as Child Welfare Worker I at $170.00 per month. I have not answered the telegram yet, but am thinking about ’phoning the agency and talking with them about my C.O. attitude. Then there’s this to consider,—the F.B.I. has been around already and has investigated my case. If I go to Arizona, I shall probably be asked to return to Des Moines in a month for my appeal hearing. Then, in several month’s time I shall probably be sent off to camp. Is it worth going to Arizona just for several months? At least I would be inducted into their program, and I sure would rather be someplace in the South West than any place else I know. What would you do? I believe I told you (in regard to the New Mexico job) that I wrote Miss McVay [sic] telling her of my C.O. stand in this war.53 I presume that that killed all chances of my going to N.M. as I have not heard a word from the Agency since. In this case silence seems to speak volumes. If I decide to go to Arizona I know I will have to leave right away and get there November 22nd or 23rd just when gas rationing sets in. That means I would have to leave here November 18th. Going 30 to 35 miles an hour I could do about 300 miles through an 11 hour driving day. My tires are bad. I have had a lot of trouble with them and now have inner liners in two of them. But I believe they would hold up long enough to make the trip—and that’s about all. I have so much stuff to take and shouldn’t put too much weight on those tires. Oh, me, what to do? And my car should have an engine job before I start off on such a trip. I expect that in Arizona living costs will be high and the $30.00 additional pay will really not mean much at all.

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I want to get out of Nebraska very badly as I see little future here. Then, too, at times I am very unhappy in the office as it takes all I’ve got to get along with my un-social-work director. But another thing that is of concern to me is the attitude of everyone here toward my C.O. stand. They all know it and respect my viewpoint. Nebraska has helped and protected me in my anti-war stand and that is something I might not find in Arizona. Perhaps life will be difficult out there. But I don’t want to stagnate any more here. What are you hearing from Christine? Is she still in Gallup? I should want to stop and see her if I go through. I think you two ought to do what so many young people are doing, get married & then let Christine get a job in Sioux Falls or whatever city you locate near. I believe it was Socrates54 or Seneca55 or someone who advised all men to get married. If you get a good wife, he said, she will make you sublimely happy, if you get a bad one, she will make you a philosopher, and that is good for any man. If you have any suggestions, write. Do you know anything about the Arizona set-up? I guess you know I took the merit exams here last August. That’s how I got mixed up in it all. Al

★★★

FRD-AGD, 12 November 1942, Sioux Falls, South Dakota Dear Al: I’m writing hurriedly to tell you something important. It’s cold in this room and I’m shivering. Please excuse the poor handwriting[.] Yesterday I got a letter from Dad telling me an F.B.I. agent came to see him. Perhaps Dad has already written you about it. Dad seemed well pleased with the investigator; in fact, he apparently became quite chummy with the agent, for he promised to come back and visit Dad. I don’t know what Dad told him, but it was probably straight from the shoulder stuff. The only thing Dad didn’t like was that the agent had to call on several neighbors. I don’t know which ones. It always slipped my mind to tell you of an incident I experienced my last night in Pittsburgh. I had promised to stop and see Aunt Marie and Uncle Burr before leaving, so about 11:30 I went over and we all gathered in Ruth and Merle’s front room for the final farewells.56 After discussing the baby for a

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while, the conversation naturally turned to the Army. Marie started discussing about her brother, Edward Obey who is a social worker (group work) in New York City. She was explaining how he hated to go to the Army. Then the inevitable question came, and in a split second I made up my mind not to avoid the issue. “What about Al?” Aunt Marie asked, “When does he expect to go?” “He won’t go to the Army,” I retorted, “He’s registered as a conscientious objector. He can’t find killing others compatible with Christianity.” The group was surprised, but not shocked like the incident at the Dickey’s. “That’s exactly the way Edward feels about it,” Aunt Marie said. Then followed a long discussion about such a stand, and I dare say it was intelligent and the attitudes of Uncle Burr and Aunt Marie were quite tolerant. As for Ruth and Merle, they had little to say, because I don’t think principles of living ever touched them that deeply. Anyway, that was the first cat out of the bag as far as relatives go, and I was glad I did it. I figured it was good sense because it would make matters easier for all of us. I never told Dad about the incident because he was in bed when I got back and in the morning I was too rushed and excited to think about it. I should have told him because he might have gone around making excuses or avoiding the issue. I don’t know what happened after I left. I meant to write you about all this soon after it happened, but with induction and all that, it was crowded far out of my mind. This morning I was leisurely lounging in the barracks when Sergeant Wolf came and called for Dietrich. Now it’s unusual for a sergeant to call for a fellow in person. Usually he just sends a runner up to the barracks. Naturally, the boys in the barracks were bewildered as I walked out, and I, too, was curious. When the sarge and I walked down the road together toward the Orderly Room, I asked him what was up and he ignored my question, feigning attention to a platoon of soldiers just forming. Just as we got to the door of the office shack, he turned to me and told me to beat it down to gate 2, an F.B.I. agent was awaiting me. All I said was “Oh,” in a tone of voice as though I meant, “Is that all?” So I went down to the gate, and when I got there, I found the agent had gone up to my squadron for me. But in about a minute he returned, having learned that I had gone down for him. For an hour, then, I sat in his car by the gate as we talked about the whole situation. He took out a pencil and pad and scribbled many notes. The fellow wasn’t at all comfortable interviewing me, and I tried to reverse the Social Work procedures by having the client put the interviewer at ease. To do this I had to resort to a curious reversal of the interviewing process. I spelled names and places out for him, reiterated points over and over again, and opened fields of discussions he never thought of asking

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about. In fact, I even suggested some references for him. If he’s a good dictator, he should be able to have several pages packed with information. But I fear he wasn’t too competent. However, he was not at all critical; at least he had that sense. He had a small card with him bearing your name and a few facts about your case. His start, after the introduction was to ask what religion you and I were. This point constantly occurred to him throughout the interview, and I insisted that you based your attitude on the broad principles of Christianity rather than as a member of a sect. I also explained that basically it was your professional training that brought you to your present stand more than it was religion. He asked [about] your work history, and I started off with your CSB experience and ended with your present job.57 I also included your Brashear Settlement work which was undergraduate, I believe.58 For references, I gave him Rudy Mamula, David Deener, and Bruno Zachary.59 I told him your stand dated back to our repugnance of R.O.T.C. in College. I explained that you would be more than glad to be sent into a combat zone for rehabilitation work. He asked me if I thought you’d object to a C.O. work camp. I told him you wouldn’t. He thought perhaps a work camp would be aiding the war effort. I don’t think he had any idea what the boys in the CO camps do! I told him you would suffer anything but participate in the war. I said you had told me you’d go to jail, or even be shot, if necessary. (This last item made a deep impression and he jotted notes on it[.]) He asked me if you had made that statement, and I said that you had, and had even written me as much. Then he made his awful mistake in one query which he put with a negative expectation. “You don’t have those letters, I guess, do you?” I said no, because I didn’t want the FBI agent in Pittsburgh having to go through that heap of letters with Dad. Before I left Pittsburgh, I carefully sealed those two folders of your letters with a lot of cellophane tape, and tucked the folders in the filing cabinet. Now, do you want me to send for these and reveal them to the agent here? I think there may be some helpful material because some date as far back as your Sioux City Days. I don’t think I’d have trouble making the agent here understand why I didn’t reveal these letters first. What do you think about it? When I was about to leave he asked me how long I expect to be here. I told him approximately two months. He then said this case would be completed before then. I invited him to see me again, if I could be of any help. In general, we had a pleasant discussion about the whole matter, and I left with a confidence in the processes of democracy. I do hope things turn out all right.

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He asked about your drinking and smoking habits, and I told him the simple truth. He asked if you were in the habit of running around with loose women. There were other searching and groping questions like that of no significance. When I returned to the barracks, the boys were fairly pop-eyed with curiosity but I tantalized them with silly excuses. It turned out that while I was gone some sort of silly formation was called, and when my name was called out, Sergeant Wolfe shouted I was called by the F.B.I. Poor dumb sergeant Wolfe. He came to the barracks to get me so he could see what a terrible Nazi saboteur looks like, and he couldn’t contain himself when he heard my name called out. He is an awfully ignorant sort of bastard. Anyway, the boys knew I had to see an FBI agent when I got back. I told them I had been sending photostats of our Tech Orders to Germany. Then, this evening, when I was walking from chow to class with three fellows whom I knew to be intelligent and understanding I told them what happened in theory class today. You see, after my FBI interview I went to theory, and no sooner had I seated myself than I heard the rumor buzzing that Nesbit, another fellow in my barracks, was called before the F.B.I.!60 Then I told these guys I was walking with that it was I who went before the FBI agent and it was because my brother was[/]is a C.O. There was not much discussion after that, but I could see Virgil [Wilmeth] was deeply moved. When we got to the class room and the other two went in, he asked me to walk back to the barracks with him, using the excuse that we had time to take our theory books back. On the way, he told me with obvious emotion that he himself was a C.O. He joined the Army as a non-combatant and only because he had no background of C.O such as a historic peace church. But Virgil seemed horribly troubled with his confession, because you seemed to make a tremendous comparison to his weakness. I tried to bolster him somewhat. He’s really a good fellow. An Oklahoma chap. That’s all tonight. Sincerely

Frank [P.S.:] I think you better save this letter.

★★★

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AGD-FRD, 18 November 1942, Beatrice, Nebraska [postcard]61 Dear Frank. Many thanks for your recent hurried letter. It is a great comfort to me to know what is going on with respect to my situation. I was very glad that you told Uncle Burr & Aunt Marie about my C.O. stand.62 Next time you write to Dad tell him of that incident. I believe Dad is now 100% behind me, well not quite 100%, but he accepts my position and knows that there is no use trying to change me. I expect to hear soon from the appeal board. Miss Hathway wrote to me the other day & she had been seen, too. Al

★★★

FRD-AGD, 29 November 1942, Sioux Falls, South Dakota Dear Al, I wouldn’t be writing you if this weren’t an “unfortunate” Sunday. Friday our barracks, and many other barracks in our squadron got gigged. That’s the army way of saying we got on the shit list. The Lieutenant came around inspecting barracks on Friday. We got it in the neck because our windows were not open as they should have been. The consequence was a restriction to the post from Sunday afternoon at 2:00. So I got out this morning for a late breakfast downtown but had to rush back in order to satisfy some trifling Lieutenant. But to me, such a thing is no longer a horrible disaster. I can find adequate things to do on this post. I’ve spent most of the afternoon at the service center listening to records and playing chess. Incidentally, I telephoned both Dad and Christine today. I was unable to get calls thru on Thanksgiving. Dad seemed cheerful and well; Christine was happy to hear from me by word of mouth. In fact, we both were so excited we couldn’t think what to say even though we had so much to say. So, at the tune of over $1.00 per minute, our conversations paused, and neither knew what to say. Dad is getting me an engagement ring through Bonds in Pittsburgh. He

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seems delighted to do this, and I asked him to cash my bonds for me. But he prefers I pay him off a little at a time, as best I can. This ring is going to be a real one. We didn’t have Thanksgiving off, although I spent a very happy holiday. The post really put on the dog by giving us an enormous turkey spread with all the trimmings and more. You can’t imagine what a terrific effect on morale that had. The dinner is still the subject of conversation among most soldiers. Although we had school as usual, neither I nor any other soldiers I know of spent time studying. As for me, I had several pleasant morning hours listening to records. I heard the Schubert Quintet in A Major, a beautiful work. As far as rumors go, we’ll only get Christmas day off. I don’t know what I’ll do, but it will seem impossible to spend Christmas in the barracks. If I could get Sat. off, too, I’d come down to Beatrice. But that’s a very slim chance. I only wish I could make it to Gallup or Arkansas, whichever place Chris will be in then. I have been corresponding with Miss McVey fairly regularly, and the last letter she sent me said that you were in doubts about your draft status. She seemed to indicate that she was waiting to hear from you regarding the draft board’s decision. Let me know as soon as you find out anything. Incidentally, I’ll help you out, if you have to go to a C.O. camp. Actually, Al, I think you should look forward to camp life. I find Army life quite palatable. There’s something about this comradeship and co-operation that is marvelous. It’s just too bad that such a spirit cannot predominate during peace times. Instead, it’s the violent expressions of hostility and conflict within the nation itself. In a C.O. camp, I think life would be even more pleasant than in an Army camp. The conscientious objection factor becomes a sort of selective factor. The army draws from a much more heterogenous group. I fully expect that you will be sent, do you? If the decision were not fair to you, I’d lose all faith in America. If I should be able to see you Christmas, I’d probably bring another soldier with me; either Chester Zmudzinski or Virgil Wilmeth, the conscientious objector I told you about. But I’m probably counting chickens before they hatch. I was with Ches last Sunday. That was only the second time I’ve seen him. With a bunch of other fellows, we went swimming together, saw a show and tramped around town a little. Ches isn’t as interested or as happy with his situation here as I am. Of course, his wife is too far away, and that contributes to his unhappiness. This is really tough for married fellows. I’ve gone back to reading The Count of Monte Cristo which the draft board so rudely interrupted when I was in Gallup. I recently finished Eric Knight’s

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This Above All, which I would heartily recommend for you. It’s a story of a soldier who becomes a conscientious objector. The clipping I’ve inclosed was sent to me by Winnie Eley. Have you ever written her? I think you should, because she is very sympathetic with your viewpoint. She is a very interesting girl. I like her a lot, and only regret that I had to suffer a conflict regarding her. I’ll have to get a letter off to Christine. Give me the dope soon. Sincerely

Frank. . . .

★★★

AGD-FRD, 18 December 1942, Beatrice, Nebraska Dear Frank—

. . . I certainly never expected to be in circulation around here this Christmas.63 I have heard nothing from the government with respect to my appeal and don’t know what’s going to happen. One thing sure, I am going to stand by till the last ditch as my convictions grow stronger every day, especially when I come home from one of these childish, hate-inspiring, war propaganda movies. . . . [Editor’s note: This letter had no formal ending.]

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CHAPTER 2

1943: “Crimes Against Humanity”?

AGD-FRD, 7 January 1942 [actually 1943], Beatrice, Nebraska Dear Frank— I suppose if this letter gets to you at all, it will get to you by a long round about route and will be weeks if not months old.1 Anyway, I want to tell you that your two packages arrived ok. I read the delightful book Ashkee and also listened to most of the Missa Solemnis (1st book) last night.2 That little Indian book certainly gives one a yearning to get down in the South-West, doesn’t it? Of course, it doesn’t tell about the filth of the Indians and has a tendency to make the Indian life seem adventuresome, which, from my observations, it isn’t at all. But most important, the book brings out the human feelings of the little Indian boy and if the building of a hogan and the gathering of piñon nuts seems like a great adventure to him, who are we to say that the Indian life with its slowness and even laziness, does not have its adventure—at least for a little boy? I believe the book gives the reader (child or adult) greater understanding of the Indian because it makes one feel with him and even accept his superstitions much for granted like his children do. I hope you go to a camp that you will like. I have the feeling that you will not be detained very long after you go to a new place. It won’t take nearly so long to 89

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give you guys gunnery training as that darned code stuff. Dad used to think that the war would be over by the time you are trained and ready to go. But such is not the case. Personally, I don’t see any prospects of it being over soon, at least not until 1945 and then perhaps it will not be all over as it seems to me that the war is not going to end in one grand flourish. It will end in one place and continue in another. I wouldn’t doubt but that there will be a decade (if not longer) of sporadic war here, there, and everywhere throughout the world until exhaustion sets in and fair-minded, peace-loving leaders get control and oust the militarists or civilization itself (that is, Western civilization) breaks up and goes to pieces. Of course, an aftermath of this war will be revolutions in many places and it won’t be liberalism vs. reaction, but hungry people desperately seeking food. I don’t like the way things are shaping up. I am not at all convinced that America and Gr. Britain are fighting for democracy. I believe that unconsciously they want world “Anglo” domination. As you indicated in your last letter there are too many soldiers who are fighting for the Hagues3 and Talmages [Talmadge]4 of America to really make this a serious fight for democracy. Truthfully, no one has ever set forth any clear-cut war aims and, worse of all, no nation has left the door open for a negotiated peace. This is a tragic mistake, I think. In regard to my situation, I have heard nothing from the government. Golly, I don’t know how long this will go on. Every time I receive another pay check, I think that will be my last. Right now I’m in debt over Christmas & I had better receive a January check or it will be debtors prison for me. (But I do have a little savings account for an emergency)—

Al

★★★

FRD-AGD, 1 February 1943, Tomah, Wisconsin Dear Al, If it hadn’t been for Dad mentioning in a letter that your hearing was to be held last week, your card of yesterday would have been a complete revelation to me. I feel sort of apprehensive about the whole thing from the tone of your card. I only wish I could see you and talk to you about it all. I know it must

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have been exasperating and if you should write to me about it, you probably could never even cover half of the discussion. Did you have to go to Sioux City? I thought probably the hearing would be there. Undoubtedly your case is different than most because you aren’t a member of any historic peace church and that’s what would make it difficult. You have to put yourself in the position of your so-called “inquisitor.” Remember, you’re a total stranger to him and he has exactly opposite opinions of war than you; and in a democracy he has just as much right to his beliefs as you. His function is a difficult one in your case. He has to make a decision as to whether your claims to the right of a conscientious objector are ligitimate. Naturally, it would require a gruelling examination. My fear, of course, is that your examiner or examiners, may not have been too intelligent or may have been an unprincipled type of person himself. That’s always the danger in a democracy, especially in the lower offices. I hope a favorable decision is made for you. Please let me know as soon as possible, because I am anxious. I know you must be suffering mental and emotional excitement at this time, but I feel impelled to give you some of my reasonings and conclusions regarding this war. We have to start with some basic facts. First of all, man is an animal. According to Zoology, he belongs to the class of Mammalia, and Anthropologists know him as Homo Sapiens. All natural sciences, to be objective, treat him not merely as originating from animals but as an animal himself. This is what I accept: that although in some respects we differ from lower animals, we are not at all far removed from them. Being animals, our species is subject to as many variations as the lower animals. Like some types of dogs, for instance, we can expect to have some humans who are vicious and incapable of absorbing the best that is in their culture. I’ll grant you, man has an advantage over lower animals in possesing a greater mental development, but I am afraid this fact is too often exaggerated because the great display of man’s intelligence which we see all about us is applied generally to the whole race. But in reality, these things are the accomplishments of the very few in comparison to the millions and millions of homo sapiens who have lived and died. And if it had not been for these very few, the great masses would still be groveling in caves, still incapable of conceiving the principle of the wheel to aid them. Now I’m not going to make a conclusion that Hitler is one of our species who is particularly close to the lower mammalian orders. Just the contrary. Objectively speaking, as though from scientific measurements (exclusive of the Social Sciences, although even here, there is room for argument) Hitler

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would undoubtedly be considered one of our superior men. But the masses who follow him are not. Cornered by their terrible economic plight, they became like animals—vicious, unrestrained, completely lacking any guiding principles. On the other hand, we who were living in the “have” countries in contrast to those in the “have-nots,” were also acting like animals in that we were unwilling to share our plethora. How often in the years preceding our entrance into this war did I not hear an angry cry against Americans helping the European refugees. And how vicious was the attack of the Republicans (our national “haves”) against feeding our own hordes of indigents during the great depression. In other words, essentially, we are no different than the German people. That is a fact that you well appreciate, I know, but I am now presenting it in a different light. When you state this reality you usually mean they are just as kindly, just as good and just as religious as we are. But, being homo sapiens like ourselves, they are also just as mean, just as vicious and just as avaricious as we. This ends my discussion from the biological viewpoint. Now let me examine the question from a sociological angle, or perhaps more specifically from a technological stand. As I intimated earlier, man has progressed to his enormous accumulation of techniques by the efforts of the very few. These techniques are now rapidly bringing us to a greater possibility of world unity than we have ever been able to have in the past. New methods of communication and transportation make world unity in some form or another practically a necessity. In other words, the cold and inescapable fact is that these purely materialistic advances of man have brought him closer to the realization of a world unity than all the idealisms and all the philosophy and all the religion man has devised. I think this is an amazing fact, and as simple as it is, it never occured to me until recently—in fact, I had never thought of it exactly in this way until I had become a soldier and began searching for justification of my position. The significance of this fact is that now, more than ever, we have a responsibility to safeguard the inevitable world unity so that it will be acceptable to those principles which we hold dear. A dictated world unity is not at all out of the realm of possibility or even probability. The world unity I speak of is purely materialistic. It is the dotted lines we see on global maps describing the routes of ships and railroads and airplanes. How these are controlled hangs the future of every individual who lives at the end of every dotted line. As techniques advance, I believe systems for tyrannical control can evolve that would

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be exceedingly effective. There’s no question that Hitler is deadly serious with his theory of Herrenvolk.5 My point is this: I feel I must be as coldly realistic as the realism of world unity. And for that reason, I feel willing to fight—to help gain control of the tools of world unity so such a unity can be based on idealism and Christian principles and progressive philosophy. I know you will say that I am shouting that the nature of man cannot be changed. No, I am not willing to admit that. Through greater applications of the Social Sciences,—Psychiatry, Medicine, Eugenics, Social Work,—we might eventually affect a better man. But that day is not here yet. The mistakes in world politics of the past two decades have been already made and we cannot go back to correct these. I therefore see only one choice—to fight. This takes precedence over my religion and all my philosophy of good versus evil, for without fighting I can see the possibility of no such philosophy at all. I am an animal. I cannot hold my life to be sacred, therefore neither is the life of the enemy sacred. We have created a Frankenstein which threatens us and we have given ourselves no other choice. I am not bloodthirsty. There is nothing more repulsive to me than to have to kill a fellow human being. But man is so incapable of handling his affairs that he gives himself little choice. You say we can take your road, but I would be afraid. I know there are examples of successful passive resistance in history, but there are also examples where whole nations have lost everything to conquerors. Take the nation of the Navajos,6 for instance, or the Aztecs7 or the Acoma8 Indians who were perhaps the most peace-loving of all. I do not say that war is good. I never shall. But I must admit it as a necessity until humanity is able to adjust itself better to its own relationships. I hope this doesn’t bore you. Perhaps it will make you angry at me. But these are my final conclusions after months of serious and confused deliberation. Please realize I am just as interested in your right to hold to your view as I am my own, and if there is anything I can do for your case, let me know. I also am anxious to know the final disposition. Sincerely

Frank . . .

★★★

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AGD-FRD, 10 February 1943, [Beatrice, Nebraska] Dear Frank, Although I have many letters in my “Unanswered Letter” folder, I am giving your letter precedence for many reasons, first, I have not written you for a long time; second, I want to write you before you move heaven knows where; & third, you had so many interesting thoughts in your last letter that I want to answer while it is “hot.” You write well and clearly. Your letters have been getting better & better and it seems that you have been doing a lot of thinking while in the Army. It hurts me deeply to think of a sensitive person like you in the mass murder business. But you have come to a rather interesting justification for your position & I admire you for thinking things through so adequately. As for myself, I wish I could think things out as clearly as you do. I seem to be unable to really formulate my philosophy intellectually, it is merely a vague feeling that I have, but, for me at least, I know that I am right and there is no changing & no going back. Before I give you a statement of my philosophy (uncrystalized as it is), and some sort of rebuttal to your statements justifying your going into the war, let me tell you something as to what has transpired so far regarding my draft situation. On January 28th I was ordered to report to Lincoln for a “hearing” before a hearing officer of the Department of Justice. The hearing was held in the large Federal Court room in the Federal Building, a rather lurid place with its dark oak corinthian pillars and ghastly over-done Italian Rennascence flitterwork9 hanging in lumps from the ceilings and walls. Not only did the huge room lack heat, but it was spiritually cold as well, reflecting an era in our history of extravagance, lust, corruption and a perverted sense of values and beauty—all the things that war itself seems to breed, all the things I hate and against which I am fighting. Save for six of us, myself, the hearing officer and four friends, the room was empty as well as cold, and we humans seemed to be swollowed in the emptiness and I got the feeling that to cry out here against anything is not to be heard at all. The hearing was informal. The officer, Mr[. Sterling F.] Mutz by name, sat on one side of a nicely polished desk and I on the other. My friends sat away in the back of the court room making the distance between us seem complete and the possibility of spiritual and emotional help nil. Although I do not feel that I made a very good showing, I do feel that the hearing officer conducted the affair with dignity & sincerity and that all in all it was with greater fairness than one has a right to expect during times like these. Frankly, I did not expect to be grilled as severely as I was and I was not as adequately prepared to face the ordeal as I should have been. I had

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been misguided by people here in Beatrice, including a well-meaning minister, who gave me encouragement but no advice and told me that the hearing would last about 15 or 20 minutes. It really lasted over two hours during which time I went round and round with the hearing officer whose legal mind had a way of twisting things so that I did not know where I stood or what he was driving at. At first I was asked to give a lot of identifying information and answer many irrelevant questions such as Do you smoke? play cards? drink alcohol? go to the movies? go to church? read the Bible? Then Mr. Mutz asked me to state my philosophy. He sat taking notes on everything I said. I talked slowly and delibertly starting off by saying that I am opposed to participation in war because of convictions which to me are deeply religious and fundamental. I hold, I said, that the greatest value on earth is the human personality, in it dwells God, from it emanates the spiritual. To purposely and willfully destroy the human personality is to commit the greatest wrong. I accept the commandment “Thou shalt not kill.” without reservation, and no commandment from any man to the contrary will induce me to destroy what to me is the most sacred thing in existance. I believe that to kill is to murder; to burn & destroy another person’s property is arson; to capture and hold in hiding other human beings is kidnapping; to take other people’s possessions forceably is larceny and burglery; to speak and print falsehoods about others is slander and libel; all these things, and many more, are crimes against humanity, yet they are the very instruments by means of which wars are carried on. I have dedicated myself to social work which, simply put, is the art of helping people out of trouble. I accept the techniques and methods of social work and hold that they are the direct antithesis of the techniques and methods of war. I believe that the greatest power on earth is the power of love, which we in social work speak of as sympathetic understanding. I believe that hostility is a destructive power, whereas sympathetic understanding is creative. Hostility breeds more hostility, force is met with counter force. But when force is met with sympathy and kindness, it melts away and an understanding is reached that is sound. Of course, Mutz agreed with me in all this but he said I was not practical. What would you do now that we have been stabbed in the back? he asked. I said that we were “stabbed in the back” not without cause. We have discriminated against the Japanese, antagonized them and humiliated them, threatened them with huge armaments, exploited them where we could. We passed the Oriental exclusion act branding the Japanese as inferiors following which Japan proclaimed a “national day of humiliation.”10 We let them in our country when we wanted their labor & shut them out when we wanted their markets. As a “have” nation we failed to accept the moral responsibility which our disproportionate wealth imposed upon us and rather than help the “havenot” nations, we tried to exploit them for our own agrandisement. Because of

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these failures in the past, we now must recognize and accept our full share of war guilt; we must recognize it and repent by taking many concrete actions that will convince the whole world that we are accepting our responsibility to all peoples of all nations. We must first bring real democracy to our own country by giving the Negro everywhere equal rights and equal opportunities. We must disavow all imperial intentions. We must insist upon a free India and the independence (both from Japan & the United States) of the Phillapine Islands. We must tear down our tarrif barriers & open up trade everywhere. We must insist on a decent standard of living, not only for our workers here but on the rubber plantations from which we get our rubber (formerly), in the boxite [bauxite] mines from which we get our aluminum, in all the depressed countries from which we have been drawing raw materials for years at the expense of human beings living in poverty so far below ours that no comparison can possibly be made. Mr. Mutz could not accept my statement that we were in any way guilty for the outbreak of this war. Do you mean, he asked, that our selfishness caused Germany to kill the Poles, the Czechs, the French? I answered yes, that we are in part responsible. The hearing went on & on. Mutz asked me what I would do if I were attacked by an insane person. I told him I certainly would not kill him. (How terribly afraid people are of insane people! I’ll bet statistically they are more harmless than a normal person behind the wheel of an automobile.) Well, the hearing finally wound up with a request that I write up my philosophy & beliefs & submit it in 3 days. Miss Deuel, Chief of our Division of Child Welfare was there and testified in my behalf. Dwight Dell, a farmer friend from here also testified & two child welfare workers from neighboring counties. The last question he asked me was would you go to prison for your convictions. I said I would, rather than throw them to the wind. I have heard nothing since the hearing. Mutz now makes a recommendation & sends it to the Dept. of Justice in Washington who in turn makes a recommendation & sends it to the Iowa Board of Appeals who in turn makes a recommendation & sends it to the local selective service board who finally makes a decision. I have one more right of appeal after the Sioux City Draft Board makes its decision, and that is an appeal directly to the President of the U.S. That appeal, of course, never reaches him, but theoretically, at least, it is supposed to go to him and he makes a decision on the case. Actually, though, these last appeals are handled by General Hersh[e]y, who is director of Selective Service for the nation. I should like to take some time discussing the points you brought out in your letter, but I am afraid I cannot clear things up, either for you or for myself. It strikes me deeply and tragically that you say you began searching for a justification for your position after you became a soldier. This to me, is something like the cart before the horse. Must we forever jump into situations

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and then, afterwards, formulate reasons or excuses for our being where we are? Does that seem like the role of a rational human being? Why not decide where we are going and how to get there first, & then proceed? To me, there is something futile about doing things blindly and then seeking justifications. Is not this a clear admission that you entered the Army under duress (social pressure, especially), that you saw no justification for going in when you did, but finding yourself there, you had to fit together some sort of philosophy that would make your being there acceptable to yourself? Your basic fact that man is an animal is not basic enough. Man is an animal but at the same time he is more than animal. One of the tragic things in our development since the advent of “civilization” is the fact that psychological evolution seems to have been arrested with the development of our artifacts and techniques. We begin seeking ways and means of doing things but lost sight of aims and purposes and ends in life. Especially is this true since the beginning of the Modern Age. We measure life in terms of achieving greater & greater physical satisfactions. We invent for this purpose, we build for this purpose, we work & struggle for it, but somehow complete physical satisfaction always eludes us and we are left confused & bewildered. Each generation seems to think that surely in the next generation the golden millennium will have been reached, but it isn’t. In reality it is this confusion & conflict in the individual himself that he projects on the world without and directly causes the confusion in which he suffers there. We have got to train ourselves for a new way of life; we have got to find totally new values; we have got to clearly define our aims; we have got to explore our total psychic capacities and put to use powers and energies and forces that have hitherto lain dormant. We have got to lift ourselves out of our perpetual emotional confusion & conflict individually and learn how to gain satisfactions in life that are more than physical. I do not see that fighting this war will help matters one iota. We do not want a world unity held together by telephone and telegraph wires! Gaining control of the “tools of world unity,” as you call the communications and transportation systems, by one clique and then overlording the rest of the world is not to bring unity at all. If this is the high & lofty purpose of the present war, let me have none of it, for I see in its achievement a situation identical with that preceeding [sic] the war, and the war might as well have never been fought. [Editor’s note: In this paragraph, with the exception of the last underlined word, the underlined words were written in red in the original.] Yes, the mistakes in world politics of the past two decades have already been made and not only can we correct them, but we must correct them now. Why can’t we correct them? No, we cannot turn back the pages of history and correct the mistakes “on the spot,” as it were, when they were actually made, but we can correct them NOW. Can’t India be given her freedom now? Can’t the open door

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in China be abolished now? Can’t high tariff walls be torn down now? Can’t secret treaties among nations be scrapped now? Can’t trade lanes be opened now? Can’t the “most favored nation” type of trade agreement either be abolished or extended equally to all nations now? Can’t the Negro & other minorities everywhere be given equal opportunities and equal rights now? Can’t we raise the standard of living of those we have been ruthlessly exploiting for years now? Heavenly days, if we cannot correct our mistakes of the past, life would be miserable, nothing but a hopeless accumulation of errors for which we must suffer. Not only can we correct past mistakes, but it is our moral obligation to do so immediately. This being the case, I see only one choice—not [underlined, not in red] to fight and kill and destroy, but to heal and build and live creatively. This doew [does] not take precedence over my religion, this is my religion. As I see it, we pacifists must ultimately win else there will be no future at all. I am more than the animal and not only do I hold my life sacred, but I hold the life of every human being sacred. We have made of ourselves a Frankenstein which threatens us with destruction and there is no other choice but to see our own fa[u]lts, admit our guilt (or at least our share of guilt) for the state of the world, and repent (for want of a better word) by concretely making amends for errors of the past. I believe man is capable of handling his affairs and he is clearly given a choice as to what to do—destroy and perish or create and live. I am not so sure that the nations which you mentioned who were conquered—the Navajos, the Aztecs, the Acomas have not been successful in the use of their techniques of passive resistance. They may have been conquered, (And don’t forget, they by no means always used the passive resistance technique) but what did they give up to the white man? Their land, you say? Yes, but not their way of life, not their religion, not their philosophy, not their aims and objectives, not their happiness, not their sorrow. They were conquered but they went right on living and pretty much the same as they had been before they were conquered. Who, after all, is the victor? I think the white man is the vanquished. I do not say that war is good. I say that it is evil through and through. It is futile and unnecessary and in no way will it ever be a help to mankind in finding ways of adjusting and readjusting itself in an ever changing world. You are wrong, Frank, your justification of war is too elaborate to hold water. It is something like Van Loon’s beautiful modern city ballanced precariously on a pinnacle.11 But nonetheless, I respect you for the conclusions you have come to and I don’t mean to try to make you think differently necessarily. So long for now.....[ellipses in original] Al

★★★

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AGD-FRD, 11 February 1943, [Beatrice, Nebraska] Dear Frank..... Here is an article I clipped from our Feb. issue of “Fellowship” magazine.12 I thought you would be interested in this as I know you have long been an admirer of Frank Lloyd Wright. . . . 13 I am also sending you a page from the July 1942 issue of Fellowship asking you to read the article “Non-Violence vs. Jim Crow” by Bayard Rustin. I met Bayard last fall in Lincoln, he is a well educated Negro chap, born & raised in eastern Pennsylvania now making his home in New York City. He is very nice looking, refined and intelligent and has a way of inspiring one when he talks. Bayard is fighting for the rights of the Negro as I have seen no one fight. Of course, his methods are entirely through pacifist techniques, but I believe he is getting places as his story which I am sending you indicates. If you think it wise, send this on to Christine. I wonder what her reaction to this would be? The incident which Bayard records here is true, & I for one can vouch for the boy’s integrity. Unless you want to keep it, send the article about Frank Wright on to Ed Dobroski as I know he, too, will be interested. I hope things are going ok with you. I guess you don’t know where you will go from Tomah, do you? You thought once that you would go to a gunnery sch. [school] in Arizona. Do you think that will be the next move, or will you now go for active duty on some front? It upsets me to think about it. Keep your chin up wherever you are, and let’s keep thinking this thing through.

Al.

★★★

FRD-AGD, 24 February 1943, Tomah, Wisconsin Dear Al, Although it is Wednesday, this is my off day and I’m determined to use it in part at least to write to you. I have been retained here at Tomah as an instructor. So far, I have had one week of teaching. When I was asked if I wanted to stay, I told the lieutenant that I wasn’t sure. Finally they asked me again and I agreed to stay. Now I’m

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glad, for I like this place very much because of the comfort and fine personnel. Teaching, too, is fun. I don’t feel as though I’m any authority on this subject— just one jump ahead of the boys I’m teaching. But it’s amazing how they look up to me as though I were an authority. It’s not only amazing, it’s amusing. I have no less than four letters from you to answer, and everyone of them would require pages to answer adequately. Your last letters were particularly stimulating and I should like to continue our discussion of our philosophies. Writing helps clarify our thinking. I don’t know whether I’ll have time to write as much as I’d like. I got up late and it will soon be chow time. Somehow, I feel I’m not in a mood to search my own thinking. I see now I should have answered your letters, especially the last ones, immediately. You had read my little book “Ashkee” and apparently enjoyed it. The illustrations are particularly good and I found in them a nostalgia that sent my poor mind whirling with memories. You say the book makes the Indian’s life seem adventuresome. Yes, life to a child is all adventure, but more, I think the Indian is able to find adventure in common-place things whereas we Americans must resort to distortions and perversions to satisfy our cravings for new experience. To the Navajo, I mean the Indian who has still managed to live away from the squalor of white men’s towns, a sunset or a new song or simple bargaining for a horse is adventure. I just finished reading Oliver La Farge’s “Laughing Boy,” a story of the Navajos living near Gallup.14 La Farge is a sort of crusader for the understanding of the Navajo culture. He shows in vivid pictures the demoralization Indians have had to suffer because of their exposure to white man’s culture in mission schools and the like where a complete disregard of the Indian culture itself existed. I don’t know. I’m afraid I’m a fanatic Navajophile. Their country, their dress, their customs, their religion and manners so impress me that I feel I’d be willing to live among them as far away from white man as possible. Yes, an escape. Oddly enough, though, knowing the Navajos has strengthened my own faith in our own religion and customs. What I mean is that I see myself as a member of a certain tribe of white men who has evolved a certain elaborate religion, traditions, customs. Because I am a member of this tribe I am compelled to act within certain bounds of the established traditions, otherwise, I must subject myself and my own culture to demoralization. This is an important point. You pooh-pooh social pressures, but on the whole I recognize them as very good and very necessary for the preservation of any culture. Of course there are limits. Too strong social pressures can result in stagnation. Lack of social pressures would result in complete confusion.

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Yes, I admit I have found my place in the Army partly as a result of social pressures. All during my life in Gallup I was confronted with this problem and at times the conflict was great. But as I saw the Navajos in Gallup who had struggled against their own culture ignoring its own right to exist, I became convinced that I myself must play an active role in preserving the ideals and principles of my own culture, not only for myself, but for the Germans and Italians as well. At the same time the oriental cultures must be given the right to expand and evolve in their own right. As much as I hate the necessity of war, the Nazis appeared to me like the mission and boarding schools were to the Navajos, fundamentally bad because they destroyed the individual by disrespect and contempt for all that he was taught to be[lieve is] good and wholesome. No national culture has a right to impose its thinking in such a manner. When I said that it is necessary for us to gain control over the ends of the transportation and communication facilities—the ends of the dotted lines on the map—I do not mean that we must control these with impositions, suppressions and persecutions. I feel sure if the Axis nations gained such control, their power would be exercised by such methods. But I have hope (and I admit there is a possibility of tyranny here too) that the United Nations will exercise control with understanding and a willingness to let other cultures flower as an equal member of a new world brotherhood.15 I am not sure at all that this will result, especially when I see India so mistreated by Britain, but I feel a thousand times more positive that this possibility is more likely under a United Nations victory rather than an Axis victory. That is why I am a soldier, one who hopes as he fights[.]

Sincerely

Frank P.S. I think our correspondence now may be valuable. Preserve the letters and someday we’ll put them together to see if they would be worth a publisher.

F.D.

★★★

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AGD-FRD, 27 February 1943, Beatrice, Nebraska [one letter on two postcards] Dear Frank— I surely think you did wisely in accepting the instructorship job and I am indeed surprised that you hesitated at all about it. I think that will be excellent experience for you. I could scarcely imagine anything better than a teacher with social work concepts and social work experience. There is nothing more damaging to human personality than a teacher who dominates and works out his or her own emotional inadequacies on the students. You couldn’t do that, I know, and I don’t think I would mind being an instructee under you. I believe that what you are doing now is perhaps about as constructive a thing as you could do in a military machine. Of course it is the purpose of the total machine that disturbs me and makes it impossible for me to even accept Red Cross work or U.S.O. work.16 But I believe you should stick with your teaching[.] It sounds good to me[.]—Al ★★★

AGD-FRD, [5 March 1943?], Beatrice, Nebraska Dear Frank— It’s been so long that I’ve written you, I do so now with feelings of shame & guilt. . . . But I don’t expect to be on the job much longer as something’s going to break soon on my draft case. As I hinted to you in a card, I had a hearing before an appeal officer of the Dept. of Justice & I don’t think I came out so good. He grilled me for two hours & then told me to hand in within 3 days a written statement of my philosophy & viewpoint. I’ve handed this in & it’s now up to the govt. I expect to know by the end of the month what they are going to do with me. The other day I got an awful letter from Rudy Mamula, a really ignorant letter condemning the Germans & promising retaliation for all their crimes etc. etc. It sounded to me as though Rudy went 100% American fascist. Such talk as I have never heard, a product of the war & worse than all, it comes from an intelligent, well educated man. I’m in Lincoln to-day because I had to bring a boy to the Orthopedic Hospital. A 14 yr. old epileptic boy from Florida who is under my care fell and

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broke his hip Christmas Day. The local Dr. improperly set it & now the poor kid has to go through it all again. The worst part of it is the local Dr. gave me a bill for $85.00 for what he failed to do. This has been another of those cases that has demonstrated so conclusively to me that we must have socialized medicine as soon as possible. . . . Al

★★★

AGD-FRD, 5 April 1943, Beatrice, Nebraska Dear Corporal Frank Dietrich: . . . I salute your hard earned stripes. Praises be to Dietrich!! I bow mighty low to you. . . . I take my hat off to Dietrich. A ten cent seegar to you. . . .

Al.

★★★

FRD-AGD, 21 April 1943, Tomah, Wisconsin Dear Al, Your last letter was wonderful. I had hoped to answer immediately, but as usual, I couldn’t find time. Even now, I feel as though I have to scribble lines off to you so fast that I don’t even have a chance to cerebrate. [celebrate] First I’ll give you some news. On May 4th I expect to get a 10 day furlough. I plan to go to Gallup to see Christine. I doubt if we’ll be married then, because Christine’s parents want us to marry at the church in Altheimer. But seeing Chris and New Mexico are something that raises me to a tremendous pitch of excitement. I wish I could go in about three directions at once. I’d like to see Dad and Grace and you, too. But sorry, Christine is first on the list. Yesterday I got a V-Mail letter from Sgt. Ed Dobrowolski [Dobroski].17 Naturally he doesn’t say where he is but it’s easy to guess. He writes he is south

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of Ecuador and west of the International Date Line. In addition he states that he has an excellent chance to learn the French language. Piece that together and you have Ed located in New Caledonia or possibly the New Hebrides just south of the Solomon Islands. I guess Eddie will see some tough action pretty soon. He says he doesn’t miss civilization very much. If I can collect what thinking power I’m capable of, I’ll launch into this war question again, but I assure you I don’t have the time now to do justice to any arguments. From a soldier’s standpoint it’s interesting to realize that most, if not practically all the hate propaganda emanates from civilian sources and not from the Army. Every once in a while, we soldiers are required to see an Army propaganda film.18 To my amazement, these films have been extremely good. They are usually documentary pictures giving historical backgrounds for the present conflict and even including criticism of the United States for not participating in the League of Nations.19 Rarely does the narrator incite hate, but of course a rectification of terrible injustices is the theme. The invasion of Abyssinia,20 Czechoslovakia,21 and Poland22 are presented, sometimes in gruesome detail (especially of Poland—I believe you saw that Polish film at Chautauqua)[.]23 These films do make the soldier feel he has some justification for fighting, but they do not incite a mad frenzy of hate. Whoever is in charge of the Army films has been indeed doing a good job. Not only are they carefully edited, but they are accompanied to good music. During tragic scenes of civilians at Warsaw we heard Beethoven’s Funeral March from the Eroica.24 The effect was terrific. These cheap hate inspiring movies from Hollywood are something I loathe. Radio programs often aren’t much better. I think civilians get an idea they’re doing much for the war effort if they can work up a good hate while they fill their coffers with the profits of war. Nothing, of course, can be more damaging to a successful conclusion of the war. We all now feel confident of an eventual military victory, but I can’t at all feel confident of a fair and lasting peace. Remember, I have chosen the course of a soldier because I felt it was the lesser of two evils. Had the Axis been allowed to win there would have been far less chance of an equitable and lasting peace. The concept of sacredness of life is interesting and yet difficult to comprehend. Life must end in death, someway or another. And because there is doubt in men’s minds as to what follows death, there must develop a concept of sacredness of life. Thou shalt not kill. And yet in spite of that ancient commandment, man has gone on through the ages slaughtering his fellow men. What are the forces that operate to defeat this concept? I am more than ever convinced that man has an urge toward death, just as he has an urge for life. As a soldier I see this and feel it manifest more every day. Although soldiers

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always express hope of living through the war and re-establishing their old lives, at the same time they seem to derive a satisfaction out of contemplating death on the battlefield. Often to make this picture more acceptable to the popular notion, the soldier will express a desire to kill so many of the enemy then let himself get killed. It’s the latter that is important to him, not the killing of other soldiers. He lives and works with soldiers and knows what they are like. He has no desire to kill them, even if they are enemies. But to let them kill him is his subconscious urge. It’s not for glory, either. It seems to be an erotic contemplation of death. I’ll have to quit here and get ready for class. We have an excellent phonograph machine here now, so I’d like to have the first volume of the Missa Solemnis sometime[.] I didn’t get to hear the Bach B Minor because I was on duty at that time. It broke my heart. The other day Marks and I came in my room, turned on the radio and heard the Scherzo and Alleghretto [sic] con Motto [sic] from Beethoven’s Ninth.25 The music worked us up to a frenzy. I think we both felt like crying. . . .

So long

Frank

★★★

AGD-FRD, 26 May 1943, Des Moines, Iowa Dear Frank— I am in Des Moines, Iowa wrestling with the Selective Service Set-up here to see if I can stave off the clink of the prison gates behind me. On Monday I received a notice from my Sioux City Board advising me that my request for a IV-E classification (conscientious objector) had been denied by the appeal board. I am therefore retained in 1-A by a vote of 5 to 0 of the Appeal Board. Had there been at least one dissenting vote, then I could, by right, appeal to the President. But since I had no dissenting votes from the decision, I do not have this right. The only way I can have an appeal now carried to the

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President (this is just the technical name for the last appeal board, it does not actually get to the President) is by having the State Director of Selective Service or the National Director of Selective Service ask for such an appeal. I came to Des Moines to-day to see the State Director here but he refused to reopen the case. I am therefore appealing to General Lewis B. Hershey, National director of Selective Service to have him re-open my case if possible. I hope this is clear so far. The technicalities are complicated but I must act in accordance with the selective service system as set-up in the law and the subsequent “regulations.” I have good legal advice. I have spent several hours here in Des Moines conferring with a Robert Root who is regional representative for the National Service Board for Religious Objectors and who knows how to steer me.26 This is a more urgent letter than I have indicated, but I had to go through the above preliminaries in order to give you some understanding of my present situation. As yet, I have not been fully informed as to why I was denied the IV-E classification. There is some reluctance to give me that information. But the Selective Service Director of Iowa, Brig. General Chas. [Charles] H. Grahl, read me a letter in which it was set forth by the State Office that since I have had the advantages of so much education in American Institutions, I should therefore be willing to defend those institutions. The letter went on to state that I was not appreciative of the advantages that America has given me and that therefore I should be denied a 4-E classification. Now what I want you to do is write to General Hershey (I’ll give you full address below) and ask him to please give favorable consideration to my request for a presidential appeal. In your letter, please bring out these points (1) That I am appreciative of American institutions and wish to maintain them and strengthen them (2) That it is a matter of method that I am concerned about, as I do not believe those institutions can be strengthened and protected by methods of violence (war) (3) That you consider me a loyal American although you do not subscribe fully to my pacifist beliefs; (4) That although we are brothers (twins, if you want), this does not necessarily mean that we should both have the same social and religious viewpoint, (5) That you respect my viewpoint and believe me to be completely sincere in it. (6) anything else which you wish to add & which you feel may help my case. Of course, I don’t want you to write any of these things unless you firmly believe they are true. I outline these points because they seem to be the points upon which my denial of 4-E was made. If you decide to write, please do so right away. It is imperative that something be done before the 1st of Next month, as that is the end of my 10 day period granted by law in which appeal action may be taken. Send your letter air-mail to the following: —

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General Lewis B. Hershey, Selective Service Headquarters, Washington, D.C. If you feel that your writing would jeopardize your position in the Army, then, of course, don’t write. Whatever you do, make a copy of your letter (if you write) and send the copy to me. I am sorry I have to ask this just at a time when you have more pleasant things to do and think about—I mean Chris, of course. Is she in Tomah, yet? I certainly am glad you took the plunge. I'm sure you two will be eternally happy together. Lot's of luck to you.

Al.

★★★

Cpl. Frank R. Dietrich to General Lewis B. Hershey, 28 May 1943, Tomah, Wisconsin27 Dear Sir: I am writing you regarding my brother, Albert G. Dietrich, who registered at Sioux City, Iowa in compliance with the Selective Service Act. He is a conscientious objector and pursued the prescribed course in registering as such. However, his request for a IV-E classification has recently been denied by the Iowa Appeal Board. I am now writing you to explain the situation as I see it. Although my brother and I differ widely in our views regarding the War and the morality of participating, I am convinced that my brother is a sincere conscientious objector. I went through school with him, and during those years at the University of Pittsburgh from 1936 to 1940 he was a student of the Social Sciences. Primarily through these studies and an acceptance of the principles of Social Work as a constructive approach to social problems, he developed a very strong anti-war feeling. I admit that I myself, like most Americans, also felt a strong distaste for War. Because I have accepted induction into the Army, my brother feels that I have deserted those strong principles which an ardent study of society developed. It is not the purpose here to defend my position as a member of the

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Armed Forces, but rather to explain the basis for my brother’s unwillingness to participate in the war. I believe my brother is as loyal and good an American as any of us in the Armed Forces. It is his sincere belief that the American principles of Democracy are being destroyed by participation in the war. He therefore holds that to preserve and maintain American institutions, we must act in a constructive manner rather than destructive. It is because he is appreciative of all the advantages America gives him that he detests the War and refuses to participate in what he believes will destroy these advantages and opportunities. My brother has no dislike for America and American institutions. Rather, he seriously questions the method by which we are trying to protect and strengthen these institutions. He believes that methods of violence, such as war, undermine the very foundations upon which our American way of life rests. Because I am a twin brother of Albert Dietrich, I think it is absurd to believe that we both should think alike on all questions. My brother is deeply religious and I honestly believe it is difficult for any of us to reconcile all the teachings of Christianity with participation in the war. As for myself, I confess, I have had to lay aside some of the best Christian teachings in order to justify my own position. To me, the War is the lesser choice of two evils, but my brother does not nor will he ever see it this way. As a member of the United States Army, I feel I am compelled to assert my faith that our government is sincerely interested in protecting our four freedoms.28 To deny my brother his appeal as a conscientious objector would appear to me a flagrant miscarriage of our government’s purposes. I am therefore requesting that you consider his case and open it for a Presidential Appeal. I consider my brother fully as loyal as any of us in the Armed Services, and I am convinced that he is very sincere in his faith and attitudes. He has frequently expressed a desire to help in war reconstruction work. He is lawabiding. Fear of personal danger, I am sure, has nothing to do with his refusal to participate in the war. Any attention you might give this case will be greatly appreciated. Sincerely yours, Frank R. Dietrich ★★★

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AGD-FRD/CDD, 11 June 1943, [Beatrice, Nebraska] Dear Frank & Chris. . . . I have wanted to write you for some time as I know you are anxious to know of the developments in my case. However, I have been so busy trying to work it out, or I should say, straighten it out, that I just haven’t been able to write. Things are shaping up very badly for me & I do not have any hopes whstsoever of there being a happy solution. I have already received my induction order and am supposed to go into the armed forces the 21st. Of course, I will not go, and this means a violation of law.29 If I am prosecuted, & I undoubtedly will be, I will be liable for a penitentiary term up to five years and/or a fine not to exceed $10,000. A recent Presidential order, however, has set up special machinery for parole of conscientious objectors and many are now being released on parole after being in prison for as long as only two months. There is still a possibility that General Hershey’s office will issue a “stay of induction order” postponing my induction until after the case has been given consideration by the Presidential Appeal Board. I do not believe, however, that this is at all likely although my friends here and in Lincoln almost all think that some such development will come at the last minute. I think it would be silly to bank on that and then have to go through the mental torment that a last minute disappointment would bring. I have long ago given up hope and have mapped out clearly my plans. When the 21st comes, I am going to write my Draft Board, the State Selective Service Headquarters, the National S.S. Headquarters, and the regional Federal Attorney advising these offices of my failure to report for induction as ordered. Then on the 22nd I shall go in person to the Federal Attorney’s office & ask him to arrest me. I shall have a bondsman with me or some property holders willing to sign a bond. With a bond signed (probably about $2,000.) I will be able to go free until the time of my trial. Rather than being charged with refusing to commit murder, the government will simply say that I violated the Selective Service Act, a misdemeanor, no, a felony, I believe. At any rate, I know that I am doing the right thing and that as far as I am concerned, to enter the Armed forces would be the wrong thing. I feel that when my basic tenets and principles are attacked and at stake, there can be no compromise, no choice between the lesser of two evils, no temporary laying aside of fundamental beliefs. I know that absolutely no good whatsoever will come out of this war. It is mass murder of the very worst kind and it is unthinkable for me as an intelligent human being to participate in it. It seems to me that my life would become purposeless were I now to give up the basic

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tenets which I have accepted as principles to guide my living. By all that is holy, I will not do it. I hate war and I shall protest against it to the end of my days. I am positive that my going to prison is a far greater humanitarian act than were I to go out in the Pacific somewhere and murder one or a dozen Japanese young men, or were I to go to Africa or Europe and slaughter Germans or Italians. Under the circumstances, I go to prison proudly. Last week I wrote Gert & Louis & told them of the situation. I asked them to write Gen. Hershey for me. Louis got excited (as is typical) and telephoned me long distance last Sunday. He wanted me to come home immediately so that he could help me “think this through.” He said he would wire me several humdred dollars immediately so that I could fly home & return by plane. Of course, I knew what Louis meant by wanting to help me think this through. He wanted to more or less force me to change my mind. Of all time to fly home and desert my case it was at that time. I refused to do what he requested & he blew up. Over 1200 miles of wire he tried to argue with me, shouting goddammit this and goddammit that. It really seemed so silly. He gave me such utterly ridiculous arguements. He wanted to know whether I would protect myself from a stone falling from a mountain cliff. Would you put up your hands & ward it off, he asked, or would you just let it hit you? Of course, the question seemed foolish and irrelavent and I did not answer it. Then he likened my situation with a train running on a track upon which there were two obstacles. I was removing the second obstacle, but leaving the first there. Do you get the point? I didn’t. What made Louis most angry was my statement that I was not ashamed to go to prison, that I was not afraid to go & was not worried in the least about it. As a last resort arguement he said that Dad would be ashamed and hurt & that I should consider the feelings of the rest of the family. Oh, heavens, this kind of stuff disgusts me & upsets me much more than the actual prospect of going to prison. I don’t see why Louis did it. I can’t see why he cannot accept another person’s philosophy as that person’s without attempting to change him immediately to his viewpoint. I respect Louis’ viewpoint. I haven’t even tried to change him & don’t intend to consciously make an effort to do so. When I asked him to write Gen. Hershey, I did not ask him to accept my tenets or even approve of them. I merely asked him to ask General Hershey to give my request for a Presidential Appeal consideration. You did it and you are in the Army. David Deener did it & he is in the Navy. Grace did it & she is in the war industries. Ed Francel did it & he is not a pacifist. Many others wrote for me including Ferne Bruneau (a beautiful letter), the Penners, Don Kirschner (a pacifist friend), Miss [Agnes] Donaldson, (a professor of Social Work at the Nebraska School & pacifist), Rev. [Walter] Dyck (our local Mennonite minister), Mary Boyd, (a pacifist friend from Cleveland), Dwight Dell, (a pacifist friend), Edgar Wiebe (friend

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& pacifist), Miriam Iggebretson, (social worker & non-pacifist), Dorothy Hudson (social worker & non-pacifist), Don Helmsdorfer (pacifist friend from Lincoln) and others. It certainly is a shock to one, when one’s own brother cannot rise above his own petty prejudices and accept his own kin as an individual with his own individuality. Louis wants me to wire him when I get an induction order. I said I would. I got my notice almost a week ago, but have not wired him. I feel I can’t until I have everything settled just the way I know it must go. I don’t want Louis upsetting me & trying to change me (an impossibility, I know, but a heck of a thing to go through) at the last minute. My mind is made up, it has been made up for years & I will not back-track. Well, this is a pretty depressing letter to you who are in the throughs of happiness over your wonderful marriage. Thanks for sending the announcement. Why didn’t you send along with it a list of the things you need? Will a dozen paper plates do? I’ll tell you, I’ll give you two an all expense paid trip to Levinworth to spend a week end with me. You, Frank, could go A.W.O.L, that ought to be a pass to get in, and you, Chris, could get a pass by breaking a post office window. You could make it your second honeymoon. Oh, boy! But seriously, now, I want to get you something real nice, and I will, but because of my situation, I am going to have to wait until a better day. Write soon, I enjoy hearing from you & your letters are always encouraging & inspiring. Al. P.S. Frank, your letter to Gen. Hershey was excellently done. I have shown it to many people & all have thought that if anything should help me, that letter should. I certainly think it reflects a greatness of stature of character the like of which cannot be found everywhere. I am proud of that letter & the person who wrote it. It is forceful and honest. Thanks for writing so promptly & so well. Al. ★★★

FRD-AGD, 14 June 1943, Tomah, Wisconsin Dear Al, Your letter came today (Monday) on my day off, consequently, I have a chance to answer it immediately. Chris started working today in a Drug Store, so I’m alone. She’s waiting on tables. I hate to have her do that sort of work, but we have to supplement our income somehow. Chris hates the thought of

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working as a waitress, too, but she’s willing until something better turns up. I believe she’ll soon get a job as typist or possibly teacher in the Fall. I’m afraid she’ll come home tonight bedraggled and worn. Waiting on tables in a soldier’s town isn’t fun and I don’t want a lot of smart remarks made to my wife, but that’s what will undoubtedly happen. At least she has the consolation of working in one of the better food shops of the town. When she took the job, she thought it was to clerk behind the cosmetic counter. That would have been much more acceptable, but lo and behold, she was shoved into the table waitress class. I guess both Chris and I are a little too proud. Silly, isn’t it? Chris and I have been together here exactly a week to the day and we celebrated our first wedding “monthliversary” last Friday. We’re still so happy we face realities as though they were straws to step over rather than threatening hurdles to leap. I become more and more convinced that we did the right thing. We have a furnished room downtown. It’s expensive—$7.00 per week, but rooms are almost as scarce as beef steaks. Eating out is expensive, but our landlady has promised us we can cook our own meals as soon as she gets her kitchen straightened. That will be a big help. Being married is something marvelous. It almost hurts me to be away from Chris, especially today when I’m Scott free. I think we’re more wild about each other now than we ever were before we were married, yet then we really thought we were in love with each other. You know, Chris is no Social Worker, nor has she done much thinking on social problems and politics. When I went with her before our marriage, this always troubled me, but now it seems trivial. Chris is intelligent, reads a lot, plays the piano beautifully and makes a perfect wife. What more could I ask for? Al, under your present circumstances, you don’t need to send us anything for a wedding present. I know you’ll need all your money and more for your case. I don’t know what to tell you we need, anyway. Chris has practically all the presents packed at Altheimer. If and when we ever find an apartment, we’ll be able to send for them and use them. Right now we’re getting along without the use of our beautiful gifts. If you’re still thinking of looking for something, I can tell you what not to get—some of the boys at the Post here bought us a marvelous electric coffee cooker; we also have an electric egg cooker. Electric goods are hard to get, therefore our gifts have been more in linens and silverware. If you want to get us an electric toaster, that would be swell. But please, please, don’t do anything until or if your case is settled and you stay on the job at Beatrice. Al, I admire the courage and strength of your convictions. Chris does, too, although she admits she’s glad I didn’t take the same stand as you. When I got

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the letter you sent from Des Moines, I was wondering what you were going to do regarding the summons for induction. I mean, I knew you didn’t want to outright violate the law if it could be helped, and I was wondering what your legal adviser would tell you. Now, I see, you have no choice, which, of course, is not too pleasant. But I can’t believe it will be unbearable. Be strong and brave, Al. When the war is over people will more readily understand you. When I wrote that letter to General Hershey, I wasn’t at all satisfied with it. I guess I felt too impotent regarding the whole affair. I hope to hell it helps you, and if there’s anything else I can do let me know. Sincerely

Frank P.S. If I were you, I’d simply ignore Louis regarding your situation. P.P.S. Chris sends her regards, too, I’m sure. ★★★

AGD-FRD/CDD, 21 June 1943, [Beatrice, Nebraska] Dear Frank and Chris. . . . I don’t know how much cause there is for rejoicing, but that is what I am doing. This is the day, the 1st day of summer, when I was supposed to be inducted into the armed forces. It is the day I would have broken the law. However, your letter to General Hershey and others like it seem to have turned the hearts of authorities in Washington for at noon Saturday I received the following telegram:—“Director of Selective Service has ordered your induction postponed. Letter Follows. (Signed) Arnold T. Olenao [Olena].”30 They certainly kept me in suspense and anxiety to the very last minute, or almost the last minute. Perhaps this was done with the hope of breaking me down. I don’t know who this Arnold T. Olenao [sic] is. I don’t even know whether the telegram came from the Selective Service Headquarters’ office or from the offices of the National Service Board for Religious Objectors who have been actively and, I am almost inclined to believe, frantically working on my case. I have received an incredible amount of help from this organization and from many, many friends. Really, when I read over the many letters that were sent to Gen. Hershey in my behalf, I all but cry aloud. This experience has certainly solidified friendships with me.

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I do not know, of course, what the letter that “follows” will contain. It has not arrived as yet. I am afraid, however, it may offer me a compromise such as non combatant service. This I will not accept under any circumstances, and so, the old trouble may arise again. But, at any rate, things have been “postponed” for the time being. Yesterday in Church I had a funny experience. I was sitting in the back of the church as our choir is now disbanded for the summer. As is the custom of the Mennonites, I was dozing peacefully and floating somewhere in an ethereal dream-world above the drone of the preacher’s voice. My fellow worshipers round about me were doing likewise. Suddenly I came to my senses as I heard the minister say something about “Brother Al Dietrich.” Right in the middle of the sermon he was telling the whole congregation of my news from Washington. He could have stuck me four inches with a hat pin and it would not have startled me more! I believe he must have seen that I was dropping off to sleep. I hope that my postponement of induction will mean a reclassification in 4-E and eventual assignment to the Civilian Public Service Program.31 If I am inducted into that program (which is a compromise acceptable to me) I intend to volunteer for the “Smoke Jumpers.”32 This is a C.P.S. unit of men who are being trained to jump by parachute from aeroplanes into forest fire areas in order to fight and extinguish fires. There may be other good opportunities open to me, but I want to get in this if I can, first of all because it is a real demonstration of another use for aeroplanes and man’s inventive genius— putting out fires rather than starting them, stopping destruction rather than spreading it; secondly, I want to get in this because there is a real element of danger to it and it offers a demonstration that the pacifist is not a C.O. simply to avoid risking his own neck.—Well, all this is perhaps counting my eggs before they are layed. I guess I shall have to wait and see what happens with this draft case first. I did want to tell you an experience I had with Dad. Until about Wednesday of last week I had told him nothing of my recent difficulties with the government and the prison outlook which I had. Then, suddenly, I received a long distance ’phone call from Chicago. A Reverend [Robert E.] Drew was calling me. He is the Methodist director of the Wesley Foundation at the University of Nebraska. He had been acquainted with my case and was trying to help me. He had gone to Chicago to study for the summer and there had talked to me with some men on the International Peace Commission (I believe that’s the title).33 At any rate, he called to urge me to have Dad write General Hershey immediately and also to have the minister of the West End M.E. Church send a written statement to the effect that my membership was on file in that Church. I was reluctant to do this for a number of reason so instead of writing Dad immediately I just thought it over for a day or so. Then, as

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I began to become more & more panicy, I wrote Dad an air-mail, special delivery explaining everything. The letter, I know, was almost frantic and after I mailed it, I felt sure I had done the wrong thing as I feared it would frighten Dad and he would immediately call Louis and then the fire-works would start. I pictured long-distance telephone calls, telegrams and Louis E. in person coming after me. Therefore, as soon as I got my telegram from Washington, I ’phoned Dad long distance. He had received my frantic letter Friday and said he had immediately sat down, wrote a letter to General Hershey, jumped in the truck and went to town and mailed it. He never even called Louis! The funny thing is that when I told him of my Washington telegram, he immediately concluded that his letter did it. I had a nice talk with him. He seemed in good spirits. He gave me surprising backing and support. I am indeed grateful to him. Last week, too, an elderly, retired Mennonite Minister from here wrote General Hershey in my behalf. When the news came thru that my induction was postponed, he, too, thought that his letter had done the trick. Another physician from here wrote for me, and he, too, made the remark that they (“Washington”) must have taken his letter as seriously as it was intended. By gump, this gives me some renewed faith in our democracy! We finally got to see my Selective Service File (as is the registrant’s right under the law) and discovered that I was rejected a 4-E classification because I am a C.O. on “philosophic” grounds, not religious grounds. The Dept. of Justice Hearing Officer who heard my case was attempting to apply a narrow, fundamentalistic, literalistic definition to the term “religious” as used in the S.S. Act.34 Furthermore, he was attempting to show that I was not a member of an historic peace church and declined an invitation to join the Mennonite Church and could not, therefore be a C.O. “by reason of his religious training and belief.”35 I had declined the invitation to join the Mennonite Church because I feared it would appear I was trying to hide at the last minute in the protective cloak of that Church. I am sure that any way I would have decided in regard to that invitation, it would have been marked against me. Someday you will have to read my Selective Service File (that is, my own personal file here)[.] [I]t is very interesting & contains perhaps a hundred pages already. I’ll let you know later what develops[.] I’m certainly glad you two are so happy together. Now that I won’t be inducted or arrested for a while, I may be able to get you a nice present. Be good children. I sure hope Chris gets a better job.

Al.

★★★

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FRD-AGD, 4 August 1943, Tomah, Wisconsin Dear Al, I’m going to forward this to Grace, hoping that you’ll receive it there. I envy you on your vacation—traveling clear to Florida and especially seeing Grace, the kids and Dad. However, I guess travel isn’t too pleasant these days—standing on trains, etc. . . . If you’re in Philly by now, give Grace and the kids a hug for me and Christine. Lord, I’d love to see them now! Grace sent us a War Bond for wedding gift. We have already a small fortune of around $200.00 in War Bonds. It was swell of her. I recently got a rather disgusting letter from Gertrude. She discussed your case as though only she and Louis could be right in their thinking—definitely fascist. This might be as a warning to you, for she and Louis intend to “bring all possible pressure” to bear upon you to change your mind, although she admitted it is hopeless. The tone of Gertrude’s letter was positively hysterical, —as though she had not an ounce of reason left. And sometimes I really do wonder if either of them has. Queer people are queer, aren’t they? I wish you could include Tomah on your itinerary. I wonder how long it will be before you’ll visit us. Perhaps not until the war is over. At least the news is pouring in from all fronts encouragingly. War news that is good news is dreadful news because of the mass murders that it signifies. That’s typical of the paradox of war. I haven’t heard from Ed Dobrowolski [Dobroski] for a long time, although, I owe him a letter since before my marriage. Dad said Ed was ill with malaria, according to Ed’s mother. He’s in the South Pacific, you know. Rudy is in Hawaii awaiting an assignment. I hope you get a chance to look up the Goldmans, Bacons,36 and Zacharys 37 when you’re in Pittsburgh. Bruno [Zachary] got married last Spring. At least those people would be quite sympathetic toward your views. Give them my best wishes. I only wish I could see them all with you. Kiss Suzie for me, will ya?38 I’ll have to go to dinner now. Chris sends her love (even though she doesn’t even know I’m writing you now. I’m at the Post with a few minutes to spare before going to work.) Sincerely etc. Frank. ★★★

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FRD-AGD, 12 September 1943, Tomah, Wisconsin Dear Al, I suppose we really would like to have your car, but Al, under present circumstances, I don’t think it would be a good thing to do. Upkeep on the car alone is enough to scare us off, let alone tire rationing & gasoline shortages. Undoubtedly, the best thing for you to do would be to sell it. We’re managing well without an automobile, although I realize if we once had a car here, we’d wonder how in the world we had gotten along without it. But let’s let well enough alone right now. Thanks much for the offer. If we did accept, I don’t know how in the world we could get it anyway. A lot of things have happened since I last wrote you. In fact, I think in my last letters I have neglected to tell you things. You seem to be under the impression that Christine has been working in the Drug Store as I told you quite some time ago. Actually, she only worked there three days. The work was much too exasperating for her, and I myself hated to see her wait on tables such long & hard hours. So we both decided to abandon the idea of her accepting work until something better came along. There were too many disadvantages in her working. In the first place, she scarcely had time to seek other & better jobs. In the second place, work like that isn’t too pleasant in a soldiers’ town. So, three days of it was enough. During my off hours Chris & I spent our time much more profitably with music—Chris playing the piano & I listening, never getting my fill. Those liesurely days have suddenly terminated. It seems that Chris & I just dream together & our dreams gradually come true. She had been wanting to get a job on the Post. I mean a good job. Last Wednesday our dream came true. She is now Secretary to our Chaplain, paying her $130 per month. But that isn’t all. Her position on the Post made us eligible for one of the new housing units built here by U.S.F.H.A.39 Last Monday we hurriedly & suddenly moved out of our Vandervort residence and now we have our first home of our own. It’s wonderful this way—to have our own privacy & feeling of almost complete freedom about our living quarters. The housing project is one of these hastily constructed War Housing Projects. The buildings are very economically constructed but quite practical. The rooms are semi-furnished, Uncle Sam providing us with a coal kitchen range, circulating heater, dining room suite, electric refrigerator, two occasional chairs for the living room and two bedroom suites. Rent is only $33 per month with light & water furnished. We have to supply our own fuel, that’s all.

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The house is darling, although I know Dad would criticize it to high heaven for its cheap construction. But actually, it isn’t cheap, it’s just practical. The buildings aren’t meant to provide long-time, permanent homes. They’re just to accommodate the War workers during the present emergency. Chris, being a civilian employee on a military Post made us eligible as residents. We only have three rooms & a tiny, tiny bathroom. The living room, kitchen & dining room are all one room. Then we have two bed rooms, one with two twin beds & the other with a double bed. This feature makes you eligible to be our guest anytime. In fact, we’re both just dying to have a guest sleep in our so-called “guest room,” but as yet we have no covers for the twin beds. To tell the truth, Chris & I moved out here on a shoe-string. We had some sheets for the bed & that’s about all. Our former landlady loaned us a cover & some dishes. Naturally, we telegraphed our distress, wires going to three corners of the United States—New Mexico, Arkansas & Pennsylvania. An enormous trunk arrived yesterday from Chris’s folks & Dad sent a card saying he had shipped some things for us. Our dishes are probably on the way this minute from Gallup. While we wait, we’re having fun sort of roughing it. My mess-kit frying pan has come in handy. We’re constantly purchasing things for our little home. Establishing from scratch with such short notice really runs into dough quickly. I wish you could get up here and see us now. Maybe you can plan somehow to come. If not now, perhaps on your first furlough. And by the way, what is this C.P.S. Probably you told me sometime back, but I can’t for the life of me think what those letters stand for. I remember something you mentioned about parachutists. Is that what it is (question mark). Say, since we’re not going to borrow your car, maybe you’d like to send us your phonograph pick-up if you think you’ll have no use for it. That is, if you haven’t already made committments on it. We have a tiny radio & three Albums of records—Missa Solemnis and [Ed] Francel’s Haydn Quartets. Besides, Glenn Vandervort has about six albums, & he’d be only too glad to bring some of his over here. I guess this is a begging letter. I still would like to have the camera to get at least a couple rolls of film taken before we’ve lost the glow of honeymooning. . . . Naturally, Al, I’m so happy your conscientious objection stand was upheld. That’s the kind of government I like. I hope I don’t have to suffer disappointment & disillusionment after theis [this] war, but I certainly have my fears. I don’t know where Gertrude ever got the idea I had abandoned the field of Social Work. I probably told her that I’m interested in radio work & might possibly accept something in that line after the War, but certainly my first love

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is Social Work. Good god! I hardly know what the girl is thinking. She accuses others of thinking queerly when her own imagination carries her far from the bounds of reality. In truth, what she has said is undoubtedly what she wishes were true. Oh well, I just let it roll off like water etc. I’ll have to go to bed now. Tomorrow I’m to have rifle practice. It will be the first time I will have touched a gun since I have been in the Army—almost in my lifetime. Chris sends her love and invites you here, too. As ever, etc. Frank. . . .

★★★

AGD-FRD/CDD, 13 September 1943, [Beatrice, Nebraska] Dear Frank & Chris. . . . . This is a quick letter. I have been terribly busy—running around like a chicken with its head off[.] Heavens, there are so many things to tell you & I have so much to do I scarcely see why I am writing at all. Last week I spent two days at Fort Crook, Omaha, being examined for induction. (Into C.P.S.) I went through with some 200 other fellows, all going into the armed forces (if they passed their physicals) except me. I had quite an experience at the Fort and certainly felt that by submitting to the examination at that place, I was certainly compromising my conscience. If I were a good conscientious objector, I would be an absolute one, I would not submit to conscription nor to the military machine in any phase or at any point. Indeed, I would not and could not accept even the C.P.S. program. Deep down in my heart I know I am doing wrong by accepting camp. It is conscription and a denial of the fundamental rights of the individual; but, alas, I am not strong enough to resist absolutely, and I shall act, therefore, only in accordance with the strength that I have and the light which I see. I expect to go to Camp about the 21st. I do not know which Camp I shall be placed in but shall let you know when word comes through. Do you know, Chris, that there is a C.P.S. Camp at Magnolia, Ark? 40 I may be sent there, but I hope not, as I do not wish to be faced with the problem of being forced to work out a discriminatory relationship between myself and the Negro.

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The 1st page of this letter was written on the back of a [Beatrice FOR] Conference Bulletin which tells some of the story as to why I have been running around like a chicken with its head off. This was a 3 day conference bringing representatives here from Topeka, Kansas City, Omaha, Lincoln and elsewhere. I took an active part in the Conference as I was on the “Committee on Arrangements.” With the Conference & my physical exam coming the same week, I almost had too much on my hands. It was my job to get out the daily bulletins & to act as chairman at some of the meetings. Our Conference was a real success from every standpoint, financial, numbers attending, and quality of meetings. We had a Japanese student speak to us on the AmericanJapanese race-relations problem and a well educated, cultured Negress from Missouri speak on the Negro problem. She made a wonderful plea that we get acquainted with the Negro and his plight. Enough of this Conference.—What are you going to do about my car? Do you want it? Do you want my canoe? my typewriter? the tent? the camera? (excuse, please)? my suits? the bicycle? my radio? the records? my violin? my books? everything and anything??? By gosh, when one thinks of it, it’s like getting ready to go into the grave. Write right away & indicate if you want anything, especially the car. I believe I’ll sell a good bit of my stuff. Gee, I’ve been going with a new girl. She’s a preacher’s daughter & a wonderful gal, Helen Albrecht, by name. Last Sunday we took a canoe trip & got caught in a thunder storm. . . . Helen was as game as a bird and as bold as the devil. We laugh when we think of it. It was kind of romantic, you know.

Al.

★★★

FRD-AGD, 14 November 1943, Tomah, Wisconsin Dear Al, I wish I could really write you when I’m actually in the mood—philosophically, etc. But marriage interferes with philosophizing, as you well know. This proves, then, that my marriage is a happy one, in reference to the old Greek philosopher you quoted sometime ago regarding matrimony[.]. . . Your recorded letter was tremendous, and I was hoping somehow to reciprocate by sending a recorded letter to you but I couldn’t find a recording machine. So you’ll have to be satisfied with this hurried scrawling. . . .

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I’m glad and envious that you’ve gone to the Black Hills. I hope everything turns out better than your expectations, although I don’t think that would be difficult, your expectations are so low. Your card we received Friday. “Involuntary servitude,” you call it. My boy, you should be more objective, more calm, more collected. Your suffering isn’t yet over. You have chosen a course that is no more right or wrong than mine. The only difference is that your course of action represents a decided minority. Tolerance is a very bad thing. I think I have expressed this view to you before. Tolerance implies that we must accept and permit to exist a condition or thing that we ourselves do not consider best for the general welfare. We can accept safely, but not tolerate with safety. Acceptance with understanding means that the acceptance is with a view to the end results. Tolerance is not only mental laziness, it is also an excuse for fear. Let us have none of it in the post-war world. Al, I can’t emphasize enough the wonders of marriage, and I certainly think you should grab yourself a dame. Don’t be so fear-ridden and hesitant hereafter, weighing this and that and finally giving up the burden of making up your mind by some escape. It’s all nonsense, I can promise you that. Given ordinary consideration, you should know quite readily whether a girl is suited for you or not—whether she’s a whore or a potentially good home-maker. That’s all. . . . So long, etc. Frank . . .

★★★

FRD-AGD, 26 December 1943, Tomah, Wisconsin Dear Al, I was just ready for bed, but I feel compelled at this moment to write to you even though it’s already a little past midnight. Chris has just turned off the light and will soon be talking in her sleep as she always does when on the threshold between slumber and awake. The radio is just triumphantly rendering the Messiah now, and it was this that prompted me to write now. “The people that walked in darkness hath seen a great light.”

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This has been one of the greatest Christmasses of my life and I couldn’t begin to adequately give you all the details. I guess it’s because this is Chris’ and my first Christmas together that makes it so wonderful and important. I’ll try to give you a little picture of our home. Opposite me in the corner by the windows stands our Christmas tree stretching from floor to ceiling with a tiny lit star glowing red from the topmost branch[.] At the base of the tree, under the dazzling reflections of the colored lights, tinsel and polished glass balls are all our presents covering the floor in the corner—Christine’s new dress, my new volume of Shakespeare, the beautiful table set you sent us; Patty and Bobby’s [Van Sciver] presents of candy, handkerchiefs, a tie and powder set, Gert and Lou’s present of the recording of Brahm’s Concerto for violin and cello; the tobacco and bubble-bath from Barry [Dietrich]; two silverware pieces, socks and gloves from the Dickeys and a host of lesser presents.41 I don’t know why we rated so much. Dad sent us an enormous box of groceries plus a fifteen dollar check! (which I spent before Christmas for Christine’s dress) We had had visions of having a miserable Christmas because I had allowed a fellow soldier to invite his girl friend at our home for the holidays. She came Dec. 17th and settled down prepared to stay till January 5th! Neither Chris nor I liked the girl and we despised the soldier. So two days before Christmas I told him he’d have to get his girl-friend out. I decided that if he’s so insensitive to our feelings he’d be insensitive to my kicking them out. It was really peculiar and a hard lesson for us. But we laughed much over the misery of the soldier. In truth, he fully deserved our dismissal because he’s the most disgusting, fascistic personality I’ve ever come in contact with. A week before Christmas he had been responsible for causing a student to be court-martialed for a very minor and trivial offense and that didn’t set well with either Christine or me. Lord knows where he and his girl-friend went, nor do we care. Prior to their removal from our home Chris and I had completely lost the Christmas spirit, but as soon as they left we began feeling happy as larks. . . . Christmas Eve, Christine and I attended the candlelight service on the post then came home and opened our packages after midnight under the multicolored lights of the Christmas tree. It was joyous, and Christine had the home fixed up so lovely—our sterling candlesticks out on the table with long blue candles flickering in the darker corner opposite the brilliance of the Christmas tree. The beauty of our little home that Christmas eve is one of those pictures the mind frames and stores away as a perpetual treasure. I wish you could have enjoyed it with us. I hope your package from Chicago arrived all right and that you’ll find all those things usable. Chris and I happened to go into a fancy fruit market and picked up some rarer goodies. We’re both crazy about avocados, but I’m not

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sure whether you are. Anyway, our real Christmas present was the money order. We felt you could use that more than anything else. And by the way, I haven’t forgotten about that $1.00 contribution you asked for about a month ago, but that just hit us at the wrong time.42 We’ve been consistently short of money because of Christmas presents and the trip to Chicago which we made. Let me hear from you, Al. I’d like to know what your Christmas was like. I only hope it was as happy as ours. I know it’s an awful paradox to have such a pleasant and joyous Christmas with the whole world slaughtering itself, but life has no consistencies or sanity. Here, as a soldier, I find myself in the most happy circumstances of my whole life, and incidentally, the most peaceful spiritually, intellectually and emotionally. It’s strange and unfathomable. I’d better hop to bed now. Please write, but never, never neglect to write Dad. He’s lonely, I know, and tears well in my eyes when I think of him. Love from us both

Frank.

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CHAPTER 3

1944: “Camp Life”

AGD-FRD/CDD, 4 January 1944, Hill City, South Dakota Dear Frank & Chris. . . . HAPPY BIRTHDAY, FRANK! This is our birthday. Holy smokes, time goes fast, doesn’t it?? I was glad to get your letter describing your Christmas and am glad it was such a happy Christmas for both of you. (The blots of ink are unavoidable. My pen runs like a faucet because of the high altitude— between 6 and 7 thousand feet[.]) First of all, I shall apologize for not writing sooner. I know you have been wanting to hear from me since I came to Camp, but I have found it difficult to write because of the thousand and one interruptions that occur here whenever one tries to do the slightest bit of concentrating. Right now I am sitting on the edge of my bunk bed near the pot-bellied wood stove. Just down the dorm a radio is blasting out some sort of a march. There are many conversations going on[,] on both sides of me. I could go to the library and write where it is more quiet, but I have tried this and have been interrupted there, too, if not by some of the fellows, then by some interesting book or magazine which draws me from my intended task. Anyway, here I am, at long last, writing. I cannot predict how long I shall keep at the task without a serious interruption[.] Just now an announcement is coming over the P.A. system saying that the prediction is 19 degrees below zero

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for tomorrow. The Mess Hall must be kept warm, the announcer is warning. Oh, gosh, here’s [John] Magee, one of my best friends here trying to hang his wet trousers on the rafters above me so they will get the heat of the stove. Good lord, he is knocking big chunks of the rottenest dust and dirt down on me and all over this letter. * ÷ . ! ÷ = There, I just gave him a cussing and a dirty look. I guess that will hold him off for a while and I’ll continue with this letter. First of all, I’ll thank you for the fine Christmas gifts. Good heavens, the box of fruit and special goodies would have been enough! I certainly never expected to get $5.00 too. But try to get it back now. Boy, money to a guy in C.P.S. seems like something from a long lost civilization.1 Thanks loads, I shall see that it meets some of my needs here as I go along. That box of fruit and goodies contained a joker that you sent entirely unwittingly—a jar of peanut butter. I am teased to this day by my friends and dorm mates here about getting a jar of peanut butter for Christmas. You see, peanut butter is a standard bread spread here served six or eight times per day. Butter is quite rare here and peanut butter is served instead. Everyone calls it “choke” and with a cinical [sic] and bitter tone we always say at the table, “Pass the choke, please.” Then to get “choke” for a Christmas present, boy, that’s the paradox of paradoxes! If ever you two come to my house to visit I shall feed you choke and more choke until you choke to death. You asked about Camp life.2 —Well, as you know, we are housed in what was at one time a C.C.C. [Civilian Conservation Corps] Camp. You know pretty much what one of those Camps look like. They were built by the Army in peace days and I suppose the individual buildings are not much different than post buildings in the temporary war camps set up all over the country. I am in dorm #4, which is a long, narrow building housing (when full) forty men. I have my bed, a standard army bed or cot, not far from the door and just beyond a window. I have two clothes closets (these were built in special by the Mennonite Central Committee) as there is no campee taking the space to my right. We have regular army blankets and much C.C.C. equipment and supplies, including some work clothing for the project, tools and other camp supplies such as kitchen equipment, office equipment, library books, laundry equipment etc. This letter was interrupted by a bull session right at my bed. Then the lights went out & I went to bed. Now it is Wednesday the 5th and I am trying to continue here at my bed writing by candle light. There is so much to tell you that I really should not even start and get involved again as I need the rest for a big work day tomorrow. I guess as time goes on you will get some idea of camp life fragment by fragment. I will say, though, that although life here is routinized pretty much, it is not nearly so restricted as Army life. That is, there are no silly regulations simply for regimentation’s sake or simply for the sake

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of uniformity. About the only thing we are asked to do uniformaly [sic] is make our beds a certain way. If we refuse—and some do, the big buzzard next to me from Chicago will never make his bed according to specifications— nothing is done about it, at least there is no Court Martial. The director and the nurse (who inspects beds) may talk to the offender about his bed making, but if he refuses to cooperate, no further action is taken. Most often a fellow is forced in line by the opinion and pressure from the larger social group in which he lives. I have seen conformity gradually envelope a non-conformist as the social pressure gradually became greater around him. After all, when a man is isolated away back in the woods in the hills with other men similarly isolated, acceptance by the group is a mighty important thing. We get up at 6:30 A.M. with the playing of music over the public address system. Usually the music is very good. Through December and up to very recently we were awakened with choral selections from the Messiah. This morning we heard a very rhythmical Negro spiritual, “Rockin’ In The Boosom [sic] of Abraham.” Many times we have been awakened with John Charles Thomas singing The Lord’s Prayer.3 Sometimes the music is not so good as it may be a march played by a band (Lord help me) or, worse still, sometimes it is a gospel hymn sung by the Salvation Gospel Quartette or some such Salvation Army type group. A music teacher in Beatrice (Anne Wiebe, a swell kid) sent me the album of Christmas Carols sung by the Vienne [sic] Choir Boys4 and I took these over to the office and for a while there, we were awakened with “Angels We Have Heard on High,” or “Joy to the World.” After the music is over, the time is announced, the outdoor temperature is given and we are urged to get up. Unlike the Army, everything here is quite informal and individual differences in human personality is more respected. This is not to say, of course, that everything here is sugar and honey, for it is not. I have a host of criticism to make against C.P.S. and sometime I shall write you in detail about them. But not right now for I have discovered that you seem to misunderstand me when I begin to criticize the C.P.S. program. But getting back to our daily routine here, let me return to the early morning loudspeaker announcement. As I said before, things here are much more informal here than you would find in the Army, I am sure. Oft times the waker-upper (who happens to be the night watchman for the night—one of the campees) will wise crack over the P.A. as he urges us to get up. Usually he will say something like this:—“That was the Lord’s Prayer you just heard sung by John Charles Thomas. It is now 6:35 o’clock, time to get up. The Temperature this morning is 12 degrees below zero. Common’ now, wake up and roll out. It’s time to get up.” Breakfast is served at 7:00 o’clock (I believe that’s the time)[.] If you don’t want to get up for breakfast, you don’t have to. You can stay in and miss it if you so choose. Can you do that in the Army? But if you choose to miss break-

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fast, you have to get up by 7:45 to catch the trucks to go to work. If you are fit to work and are scheduled to report, it becomes a rather serious offence not to report to the trucks. Now I’ve got you up and out in the crew trucks shivering to be taken out on the project. For the time being I’ll leave you there until my next letter as I can’t stay up much longer. We have been having pretty cold weather here in the mornings—down to 12 or 15 below zero—and I must be in the pink of condition in order to get through a work day o.k. Therefore, no late hours for me like I used to keep when I did social work. Right now I am back in the timber cutting trees as it is too cold to work on the dam, everything’s frozen up.5 Today I sawed a tree up with a Chinese-born missionary’s son, spending the whole day and half of yesterday on this one tree. It was actually four feet thick at the base. This, of course is unusual. Most of our trees are smaller, secondgrowth stuff. We haul them in for fire wood only, supplying our camp and another government technical camp with fuel. This letter is getting long and I must quit. Say, I wanted to say that if you have those crappy Christmas cookies and that awful candy that that soldier left at your place please send it here to this fellow’s address:— Mr. John Magee, C.P.S. # 57, Hill City, So. Dakota. John is a good friend of mine, a graduate of Ohio Wesleyan University and a fellow who was beginning to take graduate work in Social Work at Ohio State University. He always eats more than two or three of us fellows and I call him the human sewer because he not only eats more than anyone else, but he eats so many left-overs on the tables. I kid him a lot and when you wrote last, I told him about the awful candy and cookies he left at your place. It would be a good joke if you sent him that crap. I’ll pay the postage whatever it is. I sure hope you have the stuff. Golly, I haven’t told you how I spent Christmas Day as yet. My Christmas was not the happiest I’ve spent in my life, but it was certainly an unusual one. Four of us fellows started on a 13 mile, no 14 mile hike to Mount Harney, the highest peak in the Black Hills. We left for an over-night camping trip, taking blankets—16 of them—food, cooking utensils, canteens (5), ice skates (there’s a lake at the base of the Mountain) and an abundance of warm clothing. We left Camp here just after the big noon Christmas dinner and arrived at Silvan Lake at the base of the Harney Mountain trail just at dusk. Here we pitched camp, laying out a bed between huge rocks like only the Black Hills have. We cooked up a warm meal of stew and then hit the hay. Shortly after we were in

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bed, we noticed little white flakes flickering down through our firelight. At first we thought it was ashes from our pine fire drifting down, after being carried up with the smoke. But as time went on we soon became aware that it was snow. We decided to pull our heads under the covers and stay where we were. This we did, and by morning we had 3 inches of snow covering us. (I guess I should have told you we had no tent, we were under the stars, or in this case, under the clouds.) Oh, lord, was it hard to get up that morning? We had to get out of bed and stand around in the snow hunting our clothing and trying to get dressed. Most of our things were protected from the snow as we had stuffed everything in the bed someplace. But in spite of this last minute precaution before going to sleep, much of our clothing got soaked and covered with a beautiful, cotton-white snow.—Well, I must quit here. —In the afternoon we went up to the top of Harney (7540 feet above sea) and returned to Camp by midnight.— Got a whole mess of things for Christmas including wool shirt from Gert and Lou, another from Grace, 15 bucks from Dad; 5 bucks from the Penners (!!!), Handkerchiefs from Pat [Van Sciver], a 5 yr. diary from Bob [Van Sciver]; tobacco from Barry [Dietrich]; & a box of food from Dad. (Also 5 bucks from another Mennonite family[)]—So long—Al ★★★

AGD-CDD/FRD, 26 February 1943 [actually 1944], Hill City, South Dakota Dear Chris and Frank. . . . Last week when I read in the newspaper that the Army was discontinuing its A.S.T.P. courses I wondered what would happen to you and the school in Tomah.6 I was not sure that you were under the ASTP, but to-day I got a letter from Dad stating that your school has already been closed and that you fear you might be called for over-seas duty. Worse has come to worse. I can scarcely think of anything more heartbreaking to you two than this, especially since you were just getting settled in your dream home. I certainly never expected the Army to close its A.S.T.P. units. Just a week or so ago I got a copy of our alumni magazine “Pitt” and read of the program at Pitt. It seemed to me that the program was a well planned one for long-time training. In an address to the Society for the Promotion of Engineering Education, “Pitt” quotes President Robert E[.] Doherty as saying that the “Program (ASTP) has now reached full development and has attained a reasonably stable condition. There are about

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140,000 trainees, and the monthly turnover is some 10,000 to 15,000. Of course, changing war demands may require changes in these numbers.” When I read this, I thot ASTP was almost a permanent invasion of the American college by the Army. Little did I realize that the “changing war demands” might sweep the whole program out overnight and with it my twin at Tomah. The implications of all this are terrible. First of all it makes the war strike closer to home than it has thus far struck. Secondly, it seems to indicate that the U.S. battle losses are perhaps greater than is generally known and that the anticipated future losses [will be] still greater than the present. My heart sinks at the thought of your having to break up your home and going overseas. The war has always seemed awful to me, but now it takes on a worse aspect. My position here in C.P.S. in contrast to yours at the present, makes everything seem all the more terrible. And yet, in spite of this awful contrast, I know that, as far as I am concerned, I have taken the only course of action I could have taken, except, perhaps, go to prison and refuse to accept C.P.S. Isn’t it strange how when things look darkest for me they seem brightest for you and vice versa. Remember how things appeared last Spring when I seemed positively headed for a Federal prison and you were just establishing yourselves in your dream home in Tomah! Now things are turned around. I am securely situated and everything is uncertainity and anxiety for you. Life certainly seems like a pendulum swinging from joy to sorrow and back again. Have you ever read Kahlil Gibran’s “The Prophet”? Regarding this very thing he speaks . . . Dad writes me, and he probably wrote you the same, that both Aunt Nellie and Uncle Bill Frazier have died.7 I fear for Uncle Frank for he has always been a very emotional type and his ability to stand up under the strain, it seems to me, must be very limited.8 There are so many things I want to talk with you about! I wish I could see you. If you get a transfer, might you get a short furlough first? If so, both of you could come to Camp here for a while. It would not cost you a cent— except your traveling expenses to get to Rapid or Hill City. I have already talked with our Camp director and he assured me that both of you would be welcomed and could stay a few days or a week if you wanted to. I know, of course, that if you get an extended furlough, you will want to go to Chris’ folks. But if your time is limited and you can plan a trip here (but could not go as far as Anheimer [Altheimer]) by all means come here. You are welcome as the flowers in May. Remember, we are situated in the very heart of the Black Hills near the Rushmore Memorial and other scenic spots of interest. The Black Hills are as beautiful in the winter time as in the summer, perhaps more beautiful. I am sure you would enjoy it here and we all would enjoy you. There’s much more to write about, but I’ve got to quit to get this letter in the mail. I’m sorry I haven’t written earlier. (I’m finishing this letter on my bed & cannot write so well)—Anyway, I wanted to say that I’ve never lived any-

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where where I’ve found it more difficult to keep up with correspondence. Right now I have about 30 unanswered letters and just can’t seem to get to them. Dormitory living is certainly a new experience for me. It certainly makes me evaluate my time more carefully as there are always so many distracting influences that keep me from doing what I know I should be doing. Anyway, I’ve got to quit here & now as I’m working in the kitchen today & have to get going.

Sincerely,

Al ★★★

FRD-AGD, 27 March 1944, Chanute Field, Illinois (Sustineo Alas Army Air Forces Technical School) Dear Al, Here is where I landed instead of overseas—right in the center of Illinois. And by the looks of things this will be a comparatively permanent situation as far as permanency in the Army goes. This is another radio school and I’ve been transferred here as an instructor to teach electronics. Sounds interesting, doesn’t it? I left Chris in Tomah last Saturday. She planned to work a couple of days this week, then go home to Arkansas to visit her folks. When I get a room or apartment she’ll join me up here. This is a wonderful Post, the best one I’ve yet run into since my Army carreer began. No kidding, the attitude toward the enlisted man here is wonderful. It seems incredible that other posts cannot maintain the same morale, but for some reason, the Army seems too often to bring out the basest characteristics of man rather than the better. And when someone base and vulgar gets into an authoritative position, you can imagine what an ugly mess it makes. And such a situation is more often the rule rather than the exception. Here at Chanute soldiers seem to be actually regarded as human beings. It’s amazing to be confronted with this attitude all of a sudden. One feels baffled at first and wonders what the devil is wrong. Al, I’ll send you the camera, but I’ll still have a couple a snaps in it yet and it’s in all my luggage being shipped from Tomah. The phonograph had no

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head on it that was of any account. Honestly, Chris and I accumulated almost a carload of junk in our nine months stay at Tomah. I’ll bet we’ll have a $40 or $50 freight bill to pay for the shipment of all our crap. Oh, I promised to tell you about the concert we heard. You see, the Minneapolis Symphony Orchestra came to La Crosse, about 40 miles away from Tomah. I wrote early to the La Crosse Concert Association for tickets but received a reply that the house was sold out. However, Mr. Felton, president of the Association, told me he had a few tickets available for service men. I wrote him again explaining I wanted to have my wife come with me, whereupon, he promised me two free tickets! . . . The concert was wonderful. It was the first concert we had heard since my induction almost two years ago when Chris and I had heard the Chautauqua Symphony in July of 1942. The program included Beethoven’s Coriolanus Overture, Brahm’s Symphony No. II, a suite from Gershwin’s Porgy and Bess and several lighter encores . . . . I think I’ll get over to the library and read a spell. So long.

Frank. P.S. Dad tells me you might go to Porto Rico.9 What about it? ★★★

FRD-AGD, Good Friday, 1944 [7 April 1944], Chanute Field, Illinois Dear Al, . . . I think Al, you are right selecting foreign relief over paratroop fire fighting. The latter has no significance except allay the fears and prejudices of the vigorous flag wavers who believe the chief reason CO’s are CO’s is because they fear the hazards of battle. That’s true and a lot of nonsense at one and the same time. To hell with people like that. I think you can gain much more by signing up for the foreign relief job, although I realize that, too, has its disadvantages.10 But in the pre [post]-war period, in spite of the financial setback, it will undoubtedly put you in a very important position in respect to the expanding field of international Social Work. If going to China means that you will have to work under the Catholic Church, I think you should try to avoid that for very good reasons. In spite of

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the Church’s intentions of relieving suffering, its fundamental and primary aim will be to win converts, and I don’t think any Social Worker should tolerate that attitude, be it Catholic, Protestant or Islamic. In the first place, you would have to suffer a terrific handicap in trying to accomplish true Social Work aims. Secondly, you yourself could not be happy in such a situation. It will be difficult enough to work with governments, let alone narrow sectarian churches.11 Al, have you ever read Van Pa[a]ssen’s Days of Our Years[?]12 In spite of the fact that it was written back in 1938, I think it should be a must book for all Social Workers and liberal thinkers. It is the most thought provoking book I’ve read in a long time. Van Pa[a]ssen is a keen analytical observer. He made one mistake. He predicted that Mussolini would inevitably ally himself with Britain. Actually his prediction wasn’t totally in error. He said Mussolini was an opportunist and would fall on the side that is winning. That’s exactly what Italy did back in 1940. Days of Our Years is not easy reading for those of us who think our cause is so just. It’s vigorous and represents the thinking of a liberal who managed to keep himself unattached from the glittering idealism of the pre-war liberal. Van Pa[a]ssen is not kind when he sees a fundamental error in human relationships. He writes as fearlessly as he apparently acted. I most certainly recommend this book. I wrote Dad soon after I arrived here but haven’t heard from him since I left Tomah. I thought he’d be so glad I landed at Chanute, I’d hear from him immediately. I guess he’s busy though, with the Easter rush. Christine isn’t here yet. She’ll stay in Arkansas probably another week. I’m practically sick with lonliness. G.I. life was endurable before I was married, but since then, I have been spoiled rotten, as Chris would say. We’re really getting ourselves into a fix, because of her pregnancy, but it’s the way we both wanted it, and I’m glad. She’ll probably be able to work here three or four months at the most. The baby is due October 27th. If it’s a boy, I think we’ll name him David. We both like that name. Your account of our Methodist minister is exceedingly interesting. I, too, have been getting papers and letters from him, but I haven’t gotten around to writing. I know I should have long ago. Dad never says a word about him, although several times I mentioned him in my letters. Dad’s situation is pathetic. He makes things so difficult for himself. I think when you write him, you should mention the fact, perhaps casually, that you wrote so-and-so, then he will at least know what to expect in his contacts. It hurts me to think Dad is acting that way because it seems to make such a coward out of him, but I can readily understand it. What I can’t quite grasp is the attitude of Louis and Gert. They are what I’d classify as “dangerous,” defi-

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nitely on the fascist side of the political fence. Of course, we knew that long ago, but it seems no matter how strong an issue strikes them, they have no values or standards to judge it except by the mass mind. It’s really ugly. . . . I’m going to school now studying electronics, as I told you before. The subject is interesting, but these G.I. schools are nothing to brag about. I’m at the point where I’m getting sick of radio and want to get back into my professional field of Social Work or something allied thereto. Perhaps you’d like to know just what the hum-drum of my day is. I get up at 7:00 in the morning, dress, eat breakfast, come back and make my bunk and clean around the barracks a bit. By then it’s time for the daily half hour calisthenics period. After calisthenics I have from 9:00 to 12:30 for my own time, — except when I’m not called to the orderly room or supply room or classification center for a thousand and one petty details. From 12:30 till 6:30 I’m in school. School time is devoted half to lecture and half to lab-work. Supper is usually around 7:00 P.M. Then my evenings are free. What do I do with those spare hours? Mostly read, write letters [or go to a] show. Last night, for instance, I went downtown and listened to recordings at the U.S.O. Well, I’ll have to be writing my little woman, so I better turn this gab off. Give my regards to the other COs. Incidentally, I’ve met many Army men who are quite sympathetic to the CO stand. It’s amazing. Even a Chaplain, who was as grand a minister I’ve ever met—in spite of his military garb—had much to say in your favor. I’ll have to really tell you about Chaplain Stipek, sometime.13 He was an exceptional man, if ever I met one.

As always Your twin Frank

★★★

AGD-FRD/CDD, 6 June 1944, Hill City, South Dakota Dear Frank & Chris. . . . I received your letter, Frank, the other day and was very much surprised to find you in Pittsburgh[.] Evidently your spirits were at a low ebb when you

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wrote for your letter reflected an attitude of discontent and unhappiness. No, I did not know that you were transferred to Madison, Wisconsin. How would I know? Did you get my last letter sent to Chenute [sic] Field, 48th Academic Sq.? It’s too bad Chris did not go home with you, as your trip would have been much more enjoyable, of course. Dad’s letters to me indicate something of what you got into back home. His letters are terribly repetitious now, and he dwells continuously on very petty matters. When he first began to write after Mother’s death he seemed to write well and I was very much surprised, but now I see more and more of that martyr ego coming out. Like you, I, too, pity Dad; but I am convinced that none of us can live happily with him. After the war is over, I hope to find someone and get married and settle down like you two. If you were home when my last letter to Dad was received, then you know again of the dilemma that I am in regarding a decision for detached service.14 I have been asked to transfer to the Denison, Iowa, C.P.S. Camp to teach Psychology at a Foreign Relief Training Unit being set up there by the Mennonite Central Committee.15 The course that I will give will be one that will carry university credit either at the U. of Chicago or some other cooperating University. This, of course would be a good experience for me. As you already know, I am teaching a course in Psychology-Sociology here and am enjoying it very much. But there are some drawbacks to my going to Denison. In the 1st place, I’m afraid I’ll be stuck there as a teacher and witness the parade of students coming to me and then going on to China, Europe, Egypt, the Balkans etc. while I stick in Denison. That would slay me. Then, too, I don’t especially like to leave the Black Hills for that flat, drab, Iowa country. — although, on second thot, there is some advantage about getting down on lower ground—Believe it or not, yesterday we had snow almost all day. It did not stay on the ground here but in areas not far away it piled up three inches. This is a cold place, too cold for me for year-round living. Our non-evergreen trees—aspins [sic] only, that’s all there are in the Hills—are just coming into leaf. The leaves on them are still young and tender and of that awfully delicate green so characteristic of early spring buds and leaves. In the mornings it is always quite cold here and we are still having frosts and frozen water on the ground. Old-timers in this region say that there are only two seasons in the Black Hills, Winter and July and August. That surely seems to be the case. Well, I’ve wandered here from my discussion of my move to Denison, Iowa. There are other reasons why I don’t want to go. One is that the project there is emergency farm work—working on farms in the vicinity to help relieve farmers in the labor shortage area. I would not like that work at all, first, because of the long hours, and second because of its doubtful importance. It smacks too much of putting money in other men’s pockets and doing

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nothing for the common welfare. Our project here in the Hills has much more significance and importance, in my opinion. I’ve been trying to scratch this letter off for several days and just can’t get it finished. One thing about this dormitory living is lack of privacy. One is always interrupted in whatever one tries to do. The lights have just winked indicating that in 10 minutes they will go out. I’m going to have to finish hurri[e]dly. Tomorrow I start to work in the office for 2 weeks while our director is away on vacation. I’m Educational & Assistant Director during that time. One time before in an emergency I filled this position and now know the ropes. It’s a job with considerable responsibility but too nerve-wracking for me. I like the dam project better, I believe, because I like to be out in the sun and wonderful air (after 12:00 when it has finally warmed up.) Recently on the dam I’ve been operating a jack-hammer, one of those compressed air machines that jiggle you all over the place. Just came from public speaking class, Spanish class, and Chorus practice. Am tired out and ready to hit the hay. So long for now. Al

★★★

AGD-FRD/CDD, 11 September 1944, Hill City, South Dakota Dear Frank & Chris.... Surely your last letter wasn’t written July 12th, I knew I have neglected to write for a long time, but I had no idea it was that long. I’m writing now purely out of a sence of duty as I really don’t have very much to say. I surely hope you are still at Madison Wisconsin. I guess Chris is back home by now. Hope everything is coming along o.k. You two have been in a terribly tight spot financially, I know. I wish I could help you out, but I’m flat as a pancake, too. If I sell my car, however, then I shall send you something, as I do owe you a wedding present, you know. For sometiie [some time] I have been talking about a transfer out of here. I’ve been talking about going to [a CPS camp in] Puerto Rico, Florida, Chicago, and finally Denison, Iowa. Well, I guess it’s all talk. I’m still here. But I do expect to go to Denison about the 25th of this month. The date has been

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pushed up time & time again so if I get there by Christmas, I guess that will be just about right. Soon I will have been in C.P.S. 1 year—November 9th. Then I will have 30 days furlough coming. I can’t take them all at once, but I do hope to get a week period so I can get a job for a while & have a little money for Christmas. As things look now, I won’t have much to spend for presents. I believe I told you I am working in the office now. I miss the project, but I have got adjusted to some extent to a desk and typewriter again. Camp life right now is bedlam. Our director was discharged last week charged with laxness in administration. The charges have come from a small, discontented, ultra-conservative minority who have constantly painted a black picture of this camp because they think the “spiritual life is low,” as they put it. These charges come from a certain evangelical group who are against smoking, against drinking, against card playing, against war, against swearing, and FOR nothing. You know the type, a self-righteous group who are boxed in their little shell of narrow, prejudiced thought. There has been a terrible drama going on here in the last few days with a large group of men standing behind the director, and the other group crawling in whatever rat hole they can find. Honestly, one could make a very interesting sociological study of the situation here—the clash of personalities, the grouping of the camp in factions, the attempted actions taken by both sides. One of our men, a good friend from upper New York State, is going to write the whole thing up & if he does a good job, I’m sure it will be a valuable study. Our little society has so few extraneous influences because of our isolation. Therefore, everything that happens is brought out in relief, as it were. I’ll tell you more about this when I see you face to face. It certainly was a surprise to learn that Bruno was over in France already. It seems unbelievable, too, that he is just a private in the Infantry. Bruno, with his brain and capacity! I just got a letter the other day from a Lincoln friend who advised that he was in a hospital in England suffering from shrapnel wounds in the legs. This fellow was in the Med. Corps. After he entered the Army, he decided he wanted to be a C.O. He told his commanding officer that he was a CO at heart & would not pick up a gun nor fire it. He must have put up a convincing argument, for he was placed in I-A-O classification & placed in the Med. Corps. He is a brilliant boy, son of a Methodist minister, I believe[.] There isn’t any more I want to talk to you about right now. I’m in a hurry to get to bed before the lights go out. I’ve been getting to bed so late recently that I have been unable or unwilling to get up for breakfast. Tomorrow, for once, I’m going to get up for breakfast or bust. I’m really sorry you didn’t get out to these Black Hills for a visit. I only wish that both you & Chris would have come out here for a visit instead of you, Frank, going home. It would

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have been wonderful having you two here. I can imagine Chris at the piano here with the music ringing out over the hills and up our valley. There is a lot of interest in music here & all too many of us are starved for it. Did I send you a program of Jim Rinner’s recital?16 If not, then I’ll just enclose one with this letter. This type of thing comes once and a while, but it is only partly satisfying because there is the note of the amateur in it. Phonograph recordings are not so good here as our electric current is home manufactured & too unstable to keep a turntable going around at an even pace. I have my portable out here, of course, but the tone of that thing is entirely inadequate for good symphonic music. The boys who like jazz or hill-billy music think it’s wonderful. They are always borrowing it. Wish I could tell you of our long hikes & week-end trips. I have come to know these hills like I know my own clothing. Man, I am close to them and attached to them. When we came through here in 1941, we didn’t see anything, least of all feel anything. It is good to be without a car, to be isolated and to be dependent upon yourself for entertainment & amusement. I have been to only 2 movies since coming here almost a year ago, and to this I say “amen.” That’s all I want to see. So long—Nelson, our Assist. Business manager, is getting up from his desk & urging me to come along. He says I’m typing too much in the dark and will ruin my eyes. So, I’ll guit [quit] right here. Al.

★★★

FRD-AGD, 24 September 1944, Madison, Wisconsin Dear Al, . . . This is my day off and I’ve come to the Union Hall at the University of Wisconsin with the hope of hearing a recorded concert. For some reason or another the concert was called off and I’m bereft of music. That means I’m not even in a mood to write, but if I don’t write now, you’ll probably have to wait a long, long time for an answer. You see, Christine has gone home—She left a week ago today. I accompanied her to Chicago and came my lonely way back to Madison and to the Post where I am now a resident. How I hate living back on the Army Post. Marriage really spoiled me rotten as far as soldiering goes. Since Chris has been away, I spend practically all

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my few spare hours writing to her. Maybe that’s a slight exaggeration, but I do write her frequently—sometimes twice a day, and that means other correspondents have to suffer neglect. Thanks, Al, for the Mt. Rushmore paper and The Gist.17 I haven’t read over the latter one yet, but it looks good, with an impressive array of talent. Your “Reflections of a Social Worker is quite good.” It’s a fine thing to write up cases like that for general reading. You brought case work terminology and phraseology down to the level of the average reader and it made a very good report. . . . I wish we could meet and talk things over. Perhaps if and when you go to Dennison [sic] we can meet somewhere in between if our days off are the same. I know you don’t have much money, but perhaps I can help you out when the time comes. I don’t mean I’m polluted with the filthy stuff, but at least I do have some sort of an income. And as far as a wedding present for Chris and me is concerned, forget it. We understand the circumstances perfectly. Our baby is expected in five weeks so I’ll be taking a furlough to Arkansas. The baby is due Oct. 27th and I’ll take a furlough Nov. 5th. That’s so I can be with Chris after she has been released from the hospital. We’re all prepared now with a complete layette that includes considerably more than six diapers!18 I would have loved to visit your Black Hills, Al, but you don’t seem to realize how impractical it would have been for Chris and me. My furlough to Pgh. was among the worst experiences of my life and I swear by all that’s eternal I’ll never let such a personal debacle overtake me again like that. I never did let Chris know the extent of my anguish over that vacation. I assure you I’d have been better off coming to the Black Hills, but for Dad’s sake I couldn’t have. All Chris and I ever talk and dream about is returning to New Mexico. I have come to identify myself as closely to the desert and mountains, mesas and canyons as you have to your Black Hills. Chris is one and the same as far as her feelings for New Mexico go. As the war drags on our urge to get back to New Mexico increases. We want to establish a simple, pleasant Southwestern home. Then you, Gert, Lou and Barry, Dad (I hope) and Christine’s folks must come out and visit us. (Not all at once, of course[.]) You state that when we came through the Black Hills in ’41, we didn’t see anything, least of all feel anything. That is identically what I have thought about our sojourn into New Mexico. Yet, in spite of that brief visit to the Badlands and the Black Hills, I have a very warm feeling for that country and an urgent desire to get back to see it. I’d like to say much more, but perhaps next time. I want to get a letter off to Dad tonight. This is a mess of a letter, hurriedly written. I hope next time I

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can sit down and do some thinking with you as I write. As ever Frank

★★★

AGD-FRD, [3 October 1944], Hill City, South Dakota [Editor’s note: In the first part of the letter, Albert capitalized neither words appearing at the beginning of sentences nor proper nouns and pronouns. Also, this letter contained a WRL flyer, “Did Conscription Save Them?”] dear frank. . . . many thanks for your two letters, or rather for your one letter in two. i had never received any of those “envelope letters” before & of course, i ripped the 1st one to smithereens getting it open.19 next time i shall watch for this kind of stationary. this is the month for the birth of your baby. i feel quite anxious about it, too. one thing certain about this child is that he (or she) will be a wanted child and a planned-for child. this is the first real boost in life that parents can give their children. Last thursday, when i was in town (rapid city) I got a little gift for the baby but have been puzzled whether to send it now or whether i should wait until the child is born. opinion in the office here is divided so i have got no help from asking. here’s what i’ll do, though. i’ll keep the package until i transfer to denison, iowa., and then, rather than taking it with me there, i’ll just mail it on to chris at anheimer [sic], ark. about my transfer, this thing seems to be a joke. i’ve been expecting to go to iowa or some other detached service since last spring, indeed, since last winter. i believe it was last february when I first started to correspond with the mennonite central committee about a transfer. there are so many strings that have to be unraveled first, however, that it is like taking chewing gum out of a kid’s hair. i am very anxious to leave here now and I believe i’ll start putting some pressure on if my transfer doesn’t come through soon. i have spen[t] 4 seasnons [sic] in the black hills and am now satisfied. i should like to move on. then, too, our camp here has been upset, & things around here are none too

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pleasant. our director, paul tschetter, was suddenly dismissed last month, charged with “liberalism” and “modernism.” The Camp has been split into 2 hostile groups, the liberals & the fundamentalists. this division has always been noted among the men and has always created problems, especially in regard to camp publications and camp religious programs, but not until the director was finally ousted, was the split made wide and sore. It was like a revolution here for a while. There was name-calling, bed dumping, water throwing, hair cutting, petition signing, letter writing and generla [sic] hard feelings among the two groups. The fundamentalists are not schooled in pacifist thought & principles; as a matter of fact, many of them hate the word “pacifism” and refuse to use it in referring to themselves. Pacifism to them is something political, not religious, and since they want to be separated from “worldly things” they will have nothing to do with pacifism except to condemn it. This probably seems rather peculiar to you because you have probably thought that in all places on earth where peace & harmony should exist, it is in a pacifist or rather a CO camp. But it doesn’t. Perhaps the only thing I could say, is that there is more harmony & more unanimity here than in the outside world. For the most part, the men are a select group. I am certain there is more honesty here, for instance, than in the outside world. For months and months, I have left my money, that is change, out on my desk in the dorm and never has there been a cent disturbed. I have left my watch out, too, and occasionally I forget to put my wallet away, and nothing is touched. Now & then, however, we get a man in who is not strictly honest, but for the most part our men are far above the average in this respect. I have long wanted to sit down & write you a more thoughtful letter, expounding some of my thinking & rationalizing. But, like you, I just don’t seem to get time to get at it. I think we both will have to be content with these hastily written letters for I don’t see in prospect any great amount of leisure time being available. I did want to tell you about a recent letter Gert wrote me. She wrote me 3 type-written pages in single-space, a nice, gabby letter, much like she talks, not too well organized but intelligent & interesting. The LED’s had owed me a letter since last April. I thought from what you told me that they were not going to have much to do with me anymore, that perhaps I was out so far as they were concerned.20 Your letter regarding their reactions to me had infuriated me & I must confess I was ready to sit down and write them a really hot one on American fascism, tollerance, liberalism, consistancy, and other things I have long wanted to get off my chest. But, following your advice, I took a more or less forgiving, understanding attitude & wrote nothing. Then came Gert’s very nice letter ENCLOSING $10.00!!! Was I surprised!? She said that ever since I entered CPS she & Louis have been talking about sending me some “pin money.” Here it was. They had just never got around to sending

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any, although they had long intended to. The money was especially welcome because I have been thinking my transfer would come through any day, & although my train fare to Denison will be paid for, nonetheless, I was aware that I would need some money for food and incidentals on the trip. This sounds as though I am in poverty, but I really am not. I have even managed to keep up my insurance payments since entering CPS & have been able to pay the premiums ahead of time rather than during the 30 day “grace” period in which I usually paid the premiums when I was out working. We are given a monthly allowance of $5.00 here, but to date, I have not taken any of the money from the allowance. This money has been accumulating for me & now I have about $45.00 in reserve for myself. Probably it is a little less than this as we got only $2.50 when I first came, & this amount was later raised to five bucks. In addition to this, I still have my automobile. I have loaned it to a Mennonite farmer friend back in Beatrice. I am now trying to sell the thing & when I make the sale, I will then be “in the dough.” I still have my radio, too, & also my typewriter, portable phonograph, records, clothing, books & personal belongings. If you ever want any of this stuff—including the car, just let me know & I’ll see to it that you get it. Oh, say, the camera came last Saturday all in good shape. I almost left the hills before it came, but I do hope now that I can get a few shots taken before I leave. We had 2 inches of snow here Sat. Sept. 30th & the days have been cloudy & not good for picture taking since. Oh, man, these hills are wonderful, I hate to leave them. I have become so much a part of them & them of me that to leave is like cutting something out of my very inners. Have to quit here. Am enclosing another piano recital program we had recently [in camp]. The program annotations were made by the pianist & me. It was a beautiful program away back here in the backwoods. So long for now. New address: CPS #18, Denison, Iowa.—Al. . . . ★★★

AGD-FRD, 25 October 1944, Denison, Iowa Dear Frank. . . . Many thanks for your letter. If you thot you were long delayed in writing, than what am I? Since I landed here I have been up to my neck in business. The day after I got here I had to hold my 1st class and have been busy preparing material ever since. Yes, you can help me get some material, if you wish. I have been terribly disappointed with the library here at Camp and up town in Denison. I can depend upon them for very little. As you know, my subject is

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social psychology (which, parenthetically, is about the only psych. course I never had any work in—But I remember your endless ramblings about the subject when you took it with Munn, so I just as much as took it), . . . But there are certain things you might do for me to help. First of all, can you get some books from the U. of Wisc. library and send them to me for 2 weeks? 4 weeks? . . . Thanks loads, this is wonderful, you are doing me a real favor! Say, will you be down at Anheimer [sic] on Thanksgiving? I’m going to take a furlough the last week in November and 1st week in December and plan to go to Beatrice where I want to get work for a while & also sell my car (unless you want it.) Perhaps you could stop on the way up or down and see me. I believe I’ll be working on a farm someplace. I was sure glad to see you at Mankato, but I must say that I had none of the reactions you had. The meeting seemed to be quite commonplace to me and not an especially unusual or wonderful vacation at all. Of course, as I said, it was good to see you after 2 years absence from one another, but I feel sure we did not get to see each other long enuf to go over the many things in our lives that would have made the visit interesting and perhaps profitable. About Camp, now, —I am homesick for Hill City. I had no idea I would react this way to this place. I don’t like the region, I don’t like the Camp, and have little or no desire to adjust to the people. When a guy is feeling blue here, they say he has “low eggs,” and boy, that’s just what I’ve got, lower than all get out. The project—soil conservation—is petty and insignificant in comparison to Hill City. If it weren’t for the school here I think I’d go nuts. Isn’t the baby about due, now? Let me know as soon as the kid arrives. I should like to be the godfather. I sure hope it is a good, fine, healthy kid and that Chris goes through it without difficulty. After I left you in Mankato, I went to Cherokee, Iowa and visited the Mental Hospital there where there is a C.P.S. unit.21 This idea struck me when I was almost at Sioux City (hitch-hiking, again.) I detoured east and had a wonderful 2 day visit at this C.P.S. Unit. The hospital is better than anything I ever saw in Pennsylvania.—

So long for now

Al

★★★

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AGD-FRD, 25 November 1944, Wall Lake, Iowa Dear Frank. . . . For a while I had high hopes of visiting you [at] the end of the month as you suggested. But my plans have been upset and I am not able to go to Madison. As I told you once before by postal card, I have found work here at Wall Lake which really pays dividends. It was my original intention to work from the 20th to the 27th, and then visit with you from the 29th to the 1st or thereabouts. But things didn’t work out that way. The concern for whom I am working here could not use me from the 20th to the 27th as they had thot that they could earlier. So I’ve had to take my vacation 1st and then my work. I’m earning here $1.00 per hour doing the most menial work you could imagine. About 3 weeks ago I worked 3 days and earned $34.50. That in three days, mind you! If Social Work would pay like that even in time of war maybe there would be some feeling that one is remunerated for his study and work. But no, Social Workers must struggle on always at sub-standard levels. Well, to tell you for whom I’m working and what I’m doing. The concern is the Popcorn Growers and Distributors Co. of Wall Lake, Iowa. The name sounds like a cooperative enterprise, but it is not. The concern, now a large one, is owned by two local men, one an ex-farmer in this region, and the other an ex-Wall Lake barber. Both these men were hard working, relatively poor enterprisers, who some years ago staked all they owned and their futures in this popcorn enterprise. Now they are little tycoons, capitalists in the best sense of the word. I say best because these capitalistic tycoons are still small enuf to be close to their enterprise and close to the men who work for them. They have insisted upon keeping the home office of their company right here in Wall Lake, rather than moving to Sioux City, Omaha, Council Bluffs or some other urban center. They bought an old, deteriorating county-town hotel, remodeled it and set up their offices in the 1st floor. Into this unpretentious office, almost in the middle of a corn field, as it were, come salesmen and buyers from all over the country, long distance phone calls from New York, Boston, Washington, Chicago, San Francisco and elsewhere. This little town of not more than 500 people is sometimes called the popcorn capital of the world, undoubtedly an exageration, but significant enough, anyway. The 1st few days that I worked here I helped in the building of new cribs for storing the corn. I helped with the concrete pouring, did roofing, carpenter work, helped with the installation of elevating machinery. Today I’ve been working in and around the Hotel and Offices taking down screens and putting up storm windows. Tomorrow I’ll finish up with this work at the hotel & then

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go up to the homes of the two tycoons and do the same type of work there. The work isn’t bad at all and it sure is worth the chips. . . . But say, I haven’t written you since you finally informed me about SallyLouise’s coming. Congratulations of course!! . . . As always — Al

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CHAPTER 4

1945: “The Devastation and Destruction Is Positively Staggering”

AGD-CDD/FRD/SLD, 5 January 1945, Denison, Iowa Dear Chris & Frank and Sally Lou. . . . . . . I enjoyed your letter, Chris, and appreciate your writing. The more I see and hear of you, the more certain I am that Frank got a gem when he got you. This is putting it bluntly, but I’ve thought it time and time again, and you might as well know. Dad looked real well, better than I have seen him in a long time, . . . Now, about my furlough home. I enjoyed it tremendously, much more than I had expected I would. I was very much surprised to find how well people accepted me and my stand against war. I had left here with many misgivings, but I see now that I should have had none. . . . Oh, Frank, I did want to tell you that Dad and I went out to Uncle Warren’s, like you did.1 I almost got caught in that network of old time stories, too, but thanks to your warning, I avoided it by sitting with Aunt Carrie and Mrs. Hewbacker (How do you spell it?) after dinner in the dining room.2 Aunt 145

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Carrie is a bright woman, well informed and well read. She was very much interested in our C.P.S. Camps and my stand as a C.O. We had a wonderfully stimulating talk together while Dad and Uncle Warren went over old times in the living room. . . . Yours Al ★★★

FRD-AGD, 19 January 1945, Madison, Wisconsin Dear Al, Unless you have heard thru other channels, you are probably unaware that Christine and the baby are now to join me here at Madison. I at last found an apartment, and am to meet Chris and Sally Lou in Chicago on Friday, Jan. 26th. It scares me skinny waiting for that date for fear something will develop that will frustrate our plans, but I just have to resign myself to waiting until the time comes. I’m to get a 3-day pass for the 26th, 27th and 28th. Whenever we make momentous plans like these (and these are momentous to us) in the Army, we’re always taking a chance. One can never have any security in making plans, and I never can actually count on a 3-day pass until I actually see it in my hand. Who knows, Chris may be here a day, a week or a year before I ship elsewhere. This time I really got a lovely apartment. It is unfurnished, so I went out and bought new furniture to the tune of almost a hundred dollars. With that much money, I could only buy a bare minimum of pieces—bed, divan, occasional chair, table and chest of drawers, but I guess we can make it suffice. Now I’m writing specifically to invite you to visit here whenever you can. The divan I bought is one that opens up into a bed, so we’d have a comfortable place to put you up. Maybe you could come here for some research work at the University Library. At least, that’s an excuse to offer. Or could you meet us in Chicago on the 26th? Speaking of the Library, I returned your long over-due book and paid 72¢ on it. I’ve pocketed the change to compensate for my embarrassment and trouble. . . . Chris forwarded me letters from Grace and Gert, and from the sound of it, they enjoyed Christmas immensely and enjoyed your visit there. Dad, too,

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had written how pleasant it had been. I only wish I could have been there, or still, I had had the apartment before Christmas and Chris and the baby could have joined me here. But now it’s working out beautifully and I’m wild to get our family together. Already I’m living off the Post in our new home, sans dishes, linens and bedding, but Chris is expressing them pronto. Well, my boy, I hope to hear from you soon with the news that you can visit with us sooner. Good luck, and love from us all, Frank.

★★★

AGD-FRD/CDD, 25 January 1945, Denison, Iowa Dear Frank & Chris. . . . My, I’m certainly [glad] you got an apartment at last and can be together, all of you. I think it was wise to press & press for this move as you did. In the 1st place, I think it is important for Sally-Lou to see and be with her daddy as she develops through that critical infantile age. Then, too, since the war makes everything uncertain, you should be together as long as you possibly can. I surely hope that you are not shipped out, Frank. You must exist from day to day with terrific anxiety about this. My letter will probably be waiting for you upon your return from Chicago with Chris & Sally-Lou. I surely hope nothing has developed to frustrate your plans. I thank you for your invitation to visit. My difficulty is that I’ve used up all my furlough and can’t get away except on a week-end which doesn’t give enuf time for a trip to Madison.—I may be transferring out to either Michigan or New York State within a month or so. Before I transfer I will have a few days furlough saved up and may get a chance to stop up and see you. If I go to Michigan, I’ll stop on my way. If I go to N.Y., I guess, that, too, will be “on my route.” Here’s hoping you remain in Madison for some time yet. I’m dying to see Sally-Lou and all of you. I haven’t seen Chris for years! No, I can’t come to Madison for some research work at the Univ. Library. The Soil Conservation Service, under whom this Camp is operated, would say that’s the biggest laugh they ever heard of. You see, they’re not interested in our Relief Training School or any of our classes. All they want here is a labor supply so they can carry on

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their soil erosion control program. Our school work is done entirely in the evenings on our own time. Meeting you in Chicago is (was) out, too, because of my lack of furlough days. . . . Oh, I didn’t say when I mentioned that our School would be transferred out of here that we will go en masse to a mental hospital where a C.P.S. unit will be established, the men performing such duties as ward attendent, cook[,] fireman, etc. . . [ellipsis in original] Although I haven’t been too anxious to go to a mental hospital, I’ll go if the Relief Training School goes. I’m hoping we go to the New York hospital as it is located only 50 miles from New York City, near the heart of everything in the East. The war is more puzzling every day. We have seen the day dawn when France and Italy and other “liberated” countries are getting less of the necessities of life under United Nations’ domination than under Nazis’ “barbarity.”3 Our promises of food and clothing and essentials to liberated countries have become mere empty words. And the Atlantic Charter, what is it but a scrap of paper?4 Humanity is always the loser in a war, no one the winner. . . . Yours Al

★★★

AGD-FRD/CDD, 26 February 1945, Denison, Iowa Dear Frank & Chris. . . . I certainly wish I could get up and see you and the baby. I see little prospects of getting away from here soon, however, as I have no furlough days coming—or at least not enough to get to Madison and back for a visit. Next month on the 12th, I’m taking one day furlough to go back to Beatrice, Nebr. to have my teeth fixed by my dentist there. After that whatever furlough days I can earn I’m going to save until I get a transfer out of here. Then I may be able to visit you while on my way transferring. There are three possibilities for a transfer, one is a mental hospital unit in Cleveland, Ohio, another is a hospital in Poughkeepsie, N.Y. (50 miles from N.Y.C.) and the third, Mulberry, Florida. I expect to be moving along within the next 2 or 3 months as our Relief Training Unit here is moving out “en masse.” If our Unit goes to Cleveland or N.Y., the teaching staff will be drawn from local colleges &

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Universities. In that case I could go as a student. If, however, I go to Florida, I will go as a teacher to organize a Social Psychology class there. I should like to do some work in a mental hospital but I hate the thoughts of entering one in the springtime and being cooped up all summer and fall. I’m toying with the idea of transferring to a base camp in Glacier National Park in Montana for the summer and then going to a Hospital next fall or winter. But I don’t know whether I can work this out or not. But here I am writing in a very egocentric way about myself and where I’m going. What about you? I’ve been wondering whether you, Frank, would be “shipped out” as you wrote me several times you thought you might. I certainly hope not. It would be tragic to break your home again and certainly an awful thing for Sally-Lou and you, too, Chris, of course. I think you two did the very wisest thing you could do in straining every effort to re-establish your home. Sally-Lou should be with both of you during her early formative years, there’s no question about that. Man, I’d sure like to see her. Tell her ab[o]ut me, will you? I wish I had one like her, too! I am enclosing a check. It is for all three of you. Get with it what you need and want. It is long over due. I am so situated that my needs and wants are filled beforehand, so I don’t need the money at all. . . . Yours, Al ★★★

AGD-FRG/CDD/SLD, 1 March 1945, Denison, Iowa Dear Frank, Chris, & Sally Lou. . . . It’s strange and seemingly more than coincidental how we do things in such parallel ways, though separated by hundreds of miles. . . . Love, Al. ★★★

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FRD-AGD, 14 March 1945, Madison, Wisconsin Dear Al, Once again I’m shipping [out] and Chris and I have to break up our happy home. I only wish you could have visited us while we were here. We had such a lovely apartment and could have put you up so easily. But I guess the Army has beat us to the chance of entertaining you. This shipment is the real thing. I’m going to an Overseas Replacement Depot. Where, I don’t know. . . Chris, the baby and I will go to Pittsburgh to visit with Dad a few days. I don’t know how much delay they’ll give me, but if it’s enough time, I hope to accompany Chris and Sally Lou back to Arkansas before I report for duty. The last home here in Madison was short lived, but it certainly was worth all the expense and inconvenience. It has been our happiest little home so far—like a second honeymoon. I hate this parting, especially because of Sally Lou. She has been developing so beautifully, it was a joy to watch her every day. Chris dreads taking her back to the family at Arkansas because she knows the baby will suffer from too much attention and display of affection. These early years are so important in habit formation and I think it is much easier when there aren’t too many around the baby. Sally Lou is highly susceptible to training. Already she is using a little toidey seat. I hate to miss being a part of these early training experiences. Well, cèst la guerre. There is no choice in the matter. I hope I won’t have to be gone any more than a year, but I have my doubts. By the time I get back I’ll hardly know my own daughter, she will have grown so much. This indulgence in self pity doesn’t help me any. I’d better quit. Last week we bought a set of Redwing dinner service from your bounteous gift. It makes a beautiful reminder every time we eat and we do cherish the pottery. It’s really nicely designed and quite inexpensive. Needless to say, I fear we will have to tap deeper into your hundred dollars to help defray some of our expenses because of my shipment. I hope we don’t have to use it all up. In fact, I doubt if we will, for this time the government is going to take care of the shipment of our household goods. The Army will pay this only once, and since this will be an overseas shipment, we are going to take advantage of it now. . . . Well, by the time you receive this, we’ll probably be well on our way to Pittsburgh. I only wish I could see Grace and the kids. Love from us all, Frank. ★★★

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FRD-CDD, 26 March 1945, St. Louis, Missouri [Editor’s note: Frank’s letters that began with “Dearest darling” signified a prearranged code based on his army serial number, 33284232. Each number signified the first letter of a word in each line. For instance, in line one, the first number in Frank’s serial number, “3,” directed Christine to the third word, “I’m,” and signified that the first letter, “I,” was the first letter in the coded message. The second number in his serial number, “3,” corresponded to the first letter of the third word in line two, and so on. In this letter, which he wrote en route to the Kearns, Utah, Overseas Replacement Depot, the coded message is “I love you.” After he boarded the train, he did not see Christine again until after the war.] Dearest darling, At last I’m here, at least as far as St. Louis. It was a comfortable train I was on, and once I fell asleep time seemed to pass rapidly though I very much would rather enjoy being with you. Yes, you were very brave darling at this parting. Each one does become more and more unbearable. [Emphasis added] As the train pulled through Altheimer, I saw Dot [Dickey] holding Sally Lou and waving. 5 At least from my distance I thought it was Dot and the baby, so I waved a last farewell to them. It seemed wonderful to get a last glimpse of our daughter that way. When I got on the coach it was practically empty, but it gradually filled up as we progressed. I think the train stopped at every two-bit station along the right of way. Once, I watched in amazement as the train breezed by Roe [Arkansas] without stopping. But we were scarcely by the town when I heard the conductor pulling the cord frantically. The train ground to a stop then backed up a quarter of a mile to discharge passengers it had forgotten. The evening was beautiful but for some reason I wanted the train to go fast. Once the lingering anxiety of leaving was over, I couldn’t feel satisfied unless the train were rushing at top speed. It never did go fast enough for me. I think I felt as though I wanted it to hurry so I could get back sooner. I couldn’t have had any apprehensions about missing a connection in St. Louis with 8 hours to spare. When the stars came out I got the impression that we were scarcely moving because a bright star never passed by my window. It just stayed stationery as though it were trying to torment me.

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About nine o’clock I opened Mother’s lunch.6 I was awfully glad I had consented to carry it with me and when I began eating the delicious sandwich, I was gladder still. I had been sitting so long, staring out the window and thinking— remembering so many things of you and me together and of Sally Lou. Then suddenly hunger awakened me from my reveries and I had a most delicious lunch. The sandwich seemed as fresh as when it had been made and the Kosher dill pickles gave it a zest I love. I saved the orange and cake for breakfast on the train this morning. The pecans, too, were delicious. Thank Mother for me, will you? I was fortunate enough to have a double seat to myself all the way here, so I could stretch out pretty well and get some rest. I don’t feel a bit tired now. Soon I expect to go over to the “Y” and see Uncle Charles.7 I met Tyler in the station here.8 He’s one of the Tomah boys on the same orders as me. He was planning to catch a 9:00 o’clock train out, but I saw no point in getting there earlier than the morning of the 28th, so I stuck to my schedule in spite of the fact I’d lose his company on the long trip. I had no sooner met Tyler when along came Murelli, an old 299 instructor back at Truax.9 He was down here on a 3-day pass, and he told me Truax had officially closed as a radio school. No more students are being admitted and many of the instructors are being transferred to Scott Field near St. Louie. I guess we’d have been shipped soon anyway. I’m wondering what’s going to happen to Sgt. Francis after he’s bought the furniture and found an apartment! I’m going to drop Dad a card, then start wandering about the city a bit. I wish I were here under different circumstances—with you and the baby and our car—just driving to see relatives. But truthfully, honey, I do think it is better that I am going now. I have no regrets being a soldier and at the mercies of such unpredictable fortune. It is my turn now, I realize, and I think I have enjoyed more than an ordinary soldier’s share of luck. Chances are, my going now will not mean too long an absence. I only wish we could have spent the last day together—completely together—you, me and Sally Lou. Not that I resented being home, but I felt so constantly such an urgent need to be with you. It’s strange how the sexual passion becomes intensified with the realization of an imminent departure. Bluntly, that is it. I felt so restrained and frustrated. I began regretting that we hadn’t used our little private house on the train for an expression or consummation of our love. Still, it was beautiful—you, me and the baby being there together. Darling all my love forever. Your Frank. ★★★

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FRD-CDD, 1 April 1945, Kearns, Utah Dearest Chris, If you heard Drew Pearson this Easter you may take heart in his last prediction—that the war in Germany would end very soon and the Japanese would be defeated by the end of this year.10 In that case we should be enjoying next Easter together. Pearson bases his prediction on the belief that Russia will declare war on Japan after Germany is defeated. I only hope it all turns out true, but I have my serious doubts and am resigned to spend several years overseas. I suppose it is better to be pessimistic that way so I can enjoy the surprise of returning soon if such a development should occur. I had the C.O. [Commanding Officer] wake me this morning so I’d get downtown early enough to attend the Mormon Tabernacle broadcast. . . . . . . I did enjoy it, although for some reason I wasn’t entirely in a mood for it. I don’t feel depressed, but I think I unconsciously harbor an anxiety that precludes my complete enjoyment of any music. It’s just the anxiety of being at Kearns and knowing that soon I will be leaving to be separated from you not only by many more thousands of miles, but by many months or even years. For these reasons, I blame myself rather than the music or its rendition. I was glad I went, however, if only for the distraction. . . . We climbed Ensign Peak behind the Capitol. It’s a high prominatory [sic] Brigham Young and some of his followers climbed shortly after their arrival to survey the country. The hike was exhiliarating and we got a tremendous view of the city, the great lake and the distant mountains. . . . . . . Our camp is located at the foot of one of the mountains about 15 miles from Salt Lake City. . . . Always your, Frank.

★★★

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FRD-CDD, 1 April 1945, Kearns, Utah [postcard] Darling: Just a line to let you know I haven’t forgotten you today. . . . News in Europe is looking good and I only hope the Japanese begin collapsing. . . . Love Frank

★★★

FRD-CDD, 5 April 1945, Kearns, Utah Dearest, . . . Most of yesterday was spent hearing lectures or seeing movies on Survival Aquatics. All these talks or movies are very gruesome and seem to emphasize fear as a means of discipline. This, I think is a bad approach, for it tends to create panic. From the sound of things here, you would think that all of us are likely to become victims of sharks or the more ferocious barricuda. A school of the latter, you might be interested to know, can strip a man to a skeleton in three seconds! Fancy being a skeleton in such short order. I think it’s rather amusing. I was forced to miss some of yesterday’s lectures because of my dental appointment. The Captain only worked about 15 minutes on my tooth, but I must have sat in his chair over an hour. He was as anxious to goof off as I was, for we sat there talking and talking. . . . The Captain was intelligent and seemed to do a nice piece of work on me (one small filling) but I guess he was tired looking in so many soldiers’ mouths all day. Unfortunately his longwindedness did not consume my P.T. [physical training] hour. I had to take calisthenics later in the day. . . . I’m glad you bought some new dresses in Little Rock. Honey, I don’t know whether I’ve told you this before, but I know I meant to. For the next several months I think you should buy yourself a complete new wardrobe. You certainly owe it to yourself, and now seems to be the logical chance. After

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I’m overseas I hope to send money home regularly. I was going to make an additional special allotment to you out of my pay, but decided I’d forward the money personally through the Army Money Order system, or whatever they call it. I thought this would be better because there may be times when I’ll need a little more dough. . . . We spent all of today studying and working with the Carbine 30 caliber. Tomorrow we’re going out to the range to shoot. It will be a long hard day, and I already dread it. The range is 2 miles away and we have to hike out and back twice, besides all the firing. I was wishing for the old Monona Apts’ Bendix.11 The laundry situation is impossible and I allowed about a dozen dirty pairs of socks and about as many handkerchiefs as well as my underwear pile up on me. Necessity finally drove me to wash them. I used good old G.I. soap and have dishpan hands as well as tattle-tale gray as a result of my efforts. Today’s news is particularly encouraging—the resignation of the Japanese Cabinet and the Russian refusal to renew the Non-Aggression Pact especially, and the progress of the Allied Armies both in Europe as well as Asia.12 Then there are rumors of Japanese peace feelers, too. Maybe the end will come soon, but I’m not going to let my spirits give way to the same sort of optimism we had back in the Summer of ’44. Darling, I miss you and Sally Lou each day more and more. Sometimes, it seems intolerable that we should be separated this way, yet I suppose we have to be thankful, too, that it has been so comparatively good. We have been fortunate, and I wouldn’t want it to be other than this way under these circumstances. All my love forever and for each second of every day, Yours, always Frank

★★★

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FRD-CDD, 8 April 1945, Kearns, Utah Dearest, . . . This week has been a big and important week for the L.D.S. [Latter Day Saints, or Mormon] Church. They’ve been holding their annual convention—electing priests, elders, council of 12, council of 70 and I don’t know what all. So following the broadcast this morning we found ourselves smack in the middle of one of their convention meetings that threatened to drag out forever. I squirmed in my seat and felt a little uneasy. So did Frank [Andrus]. Finally one of the G.I’s in the rear got nerve enough to walk out and in an instant about a hundred of us followed him. George Bishop refused to budge. I was so disgusted with the boy all the way to the church, I was ready to rail off at him. In fact, I did somewhat. He has such an idea that he’s holier than anyone else. When he criticized the Mormon doctrines as a misinterpretation of the scriptures I asked him if he was God to judge that. He’s a bigot and as unchristian a person I’d want to meet. We got to talking about Conscientious Objectors and he decided he wanted them sent to the firing line on the battle fields to do nothing but get killed. I told him it was the most selfish and unchristian idea I’ve ever heard. He needs an awful lot of shock to jar him out of his feeling of self-righteousness. In spite of my defending the Mormons before George Bishop, I do get a most unpleasant picture of them here. I don’t know what it is about their very appearance that makes them seem different from the average run of civilians in other American cities, but for some reason they have a blank expression like morons. Perhaps I’ve been seeing through prejudiced eyes, but for some reason I just don’t like their looks nor their messianic (I believe that’s the word) complex to convert everyone. However, if they are moronic, they still can produce a fine choir, which may be a proof of what simple minds can do under good and sensitive leadership. The Mormons are very proud of their choir and rightly so. . . . Following the movie, we had a steak dinner, wandered off through one of those hideous arcades and shooting galleries and finally back to the U.S.O. . . . Your Frank

★★★

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FRD-CDD, 11 April 1945, Kearns, Utah Sweetheart, . . . Each day I write, I think may be my last letter from Kearns, yet today I celebrate my second week here. However, I think I shall soon have an A.P.O. number.13 You ask what is the significance of “Casual Squadron.”14 Perhaps none—except a man who is in casual is slated to be shipped at any time. They tell us a man who is placed in casual has all his records complete and up to date. However, he may remain casual many weeks or only a few days. One never knows. You speak of the news being so good. True, it is, but somehow I don’t feel the excitement that you write of. I don’t think Germany will formally capitulate and VE-Day will be a nebulous affair indeed. Furthermore the apparent approach of the end of the war with me being slated to ship overseas makes me feel all the more depressed. I dread the prospects of spending a year or two overseas after the war has ended and that’s exactly what I think will happen. A bulletin was posted here today advising all soldiers that they should not participate in any celebration of VE-Day and that when such an occasion arises, we’ll all be restricted to the Camp. I can see the wisdom of this, for I do not believe we should support too much optimism when the boys are struggling and dying way out in the South Pacific. We can be glad of the defeat of Germany, but there is still a long hard road ahead. I see in today’s news that the Americans lost another town in China. Japan still has some fierce power. I was paid today all of $49.00, so shortly after I got the money, I put my OD’s [olive drabs] on and had my picture taken at the Photo-Shop. The proofs will be ready Monday. I honestly doubt that I’ll be here to see them. In that event, the proofs will be sent to you for selection. I ordered three at $5.50. . . . I hope they don’t make me out to be a goon, although that’s certainly what I felt like when I sat there for the picture. . . . Forever your Frank.

★★★

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FRD-CDD, 12 April 1945, Kearns, Utah My darling, With about a hundred other soldiers, I was standing at the door of an improvised lecture room when the news of today came to me. There were those massive black clouds overhead driven by a Bitter wind. I was cold and disgruntled because we had stood in the chilling blast ten minutes without gaining admittance. Then I caught the conversation of a nearby soldier. “I tell you he died, I just heard it over the radio in the Orderly Room.” The others laughed and asked what new kind of a rumor was he trying to spread. “All right, you don’t believe me. I just heard it on the radio. It was somewhere in Georgia. I forgot the name, Springs? Warm Springs or something like that.” Death at Warm Springs, Georgia. I knew that could only mean President Roosevelt. A gnawing shock came over me and it seemed strange that I and the others should be pushing through the door of the lecture hall to get out of the cold. President Roosevelt had died with the Armies of the United Nations on the threshold of victory. It wasn’t the military situation that made me feel I wanted him, but I felt we needed him for the peace. It is strange how these things come. I wonder what legends will be built around our Commander-in-Chief. I can’t but help think his greatness will grow as the petty political feuds become insignificant and are forgotten. President Roosevelt could have chosen an easier course, but he was willing to fight against oppressive evils even though power and vested interests were against him. I only wish I could read the historians a century hence. Roosevelt surely marks a crisis for our nation and for the world. I am glad I have been one of his soldiers, in spite of the ugliness of war. I am not deluding myself. It is no war to end wars. But it is a human struggle so vast in scope and significance for the future struggles of mankind that there can be no alternate choice except the one President Roosevelt accepted. I was an ardent opponent of President Roosevelt when he began his career as the leader of our nation. But there was something so dynamic in his leadership, I could not help but be swung to his support. Frankly, I do wish Wallace were Vice President to assume the Presidency now, but I believe Truman may surprise us with his force and vision.15 When he is accused of being a machine politician, the same accusers omit the fact that he shook off the Pendergasts and other bosses when his whole political

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career was at stake.16 He chose a hard course then. He may choose a fighting course for the peace. I am wondering how this day has affected you. I know we carry on, doing the same things, but there is something preposterous about everything we do. A dance was called off at the Service Club tonight and the crowd is exceptionally quiet—sitting around the main hall reading the newspapers or listening in a cluster to the bulletins and tributes on the radio. Sweetheart, soon you may not be hearing from me and we all have been urged to notify our families that they should not expect to hear from us for two or three months. No news will be good news, so if the wait seems long and unbearable, you must be as brave as a soldier. I, too, will suffer the hardship of not hearing from you and knowing how Sally Lou is developing. You will receive an Army notification of my change of address. Until you get it, keep addressing me here. It will be a card in my own handwriting with the A.P.O. stamped on it. Sweetest, I love you more each time I write you. All my love and kisses to you and my sweet daughter. Your Frank.

★★★

FRD-CDD, 20 April 1945, Somewhere on West Coast My dearest, This is a new experiment or experience in letter writing, for it is the first that will be censored. There is much that I wish I could tell you, and other things that I might tell you but I’m in doubt as to what would pass the censor, so to play safe, the only rule I’ll follow is: When in doubt, don’t write it. When I left Kearns, two solid days had passed without a letter from you. I was in a fit state to be tied, for I realized it may be a long, long time before any letter caught up to me. The boys re-assured me it was the faulty mail service and I only found comfort in my misery when I went to chow and they served liver. Frank Andrus couldn’t eat liver, couldn’t possibly swallow it. So I had a companion in pleasant disgust. We tramped off to the movies together to divert our minds from our troubles. We had talked about drowning our sorrows in beer,

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but G.I. 3.2 would drown us physically before our sorrows became submerged. So, we relied on Katy Hepburn in “Without Love” to allay our misery.17 It’s strange how at Kearns we heard a hundred rumors a day as to where we’re going. You grasp at any substantiation in order to weed out the false rumors, and invariably, the “substantiated” ones turn out just as wrong as the ones that seemed to be mere guesses. So here I am, somewhere where I never expected to be. It’s a pleasant change from Utah, although I by no means had grown tired of the power and majesty of that country. Somehow, no matter where I find myself—in mountains or desert, or in the verdant green of the wetter climates—I find Nature, the natural surroundings when not disfigured by man, something of infinite beauty. Nature is like music, with varying moods and forms and scope. The hills and woods of Pennsylvania—Mozartian, intimate and friendly; the deserts and mesas of New Mexico—vast and imaginative like Brahms; the mountains of Utah and Colorado of the stature of Beethoven. And. . . . [Editor’s note: In his typescript version, Frank noted: “Here the letter ends, snipped off by the censor. I wonder why. I thought I was being careful.” The censor cut 3 1/2 pages.] ★★★

FRD-AGD, 24 April 1945, San Francisco, California, [postcard] Dear Al, Just a note to let you know I still exist. Since Chris and I left Madison much has transpired and if the Army hasn’t kept me entirely preoccupied, certainly I have been mentally—too much so to bother writing to anyone except Chris and Dad. We did have a nice 4 day visit to Pgh and 3 days together in Altheimer. The wear and tear on Sally Lou was pretty rough, but she weathered it and is now sweeter than ever. Can’t tell you of present plans the Army has in store for me. Love Frank ★★★

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FRD-CDD, 30 April 1945, On the Pacific My darling, I know this will be the long awaited letter, yet as I write, I have no idea how many days will lapse before I can mail it and it will be speeding on its way to you. It will be difficult for me to catch you up on events after such a long lapse of writing, but in the next several letters, I will endeavor to acquaint you with happenings as the war affects me—that is, in so far as I can, censor permitting. Needless to say, the telephone call I promised never got thru for obvious reasons. First came an alert, when all telephone and telegraph messages were banned, and finally letters. So even before I left my last Post I was prevented [from] contacting you for at least a day. Then we moved out one fine morning. With our packs and bedding on our backs, we marched down to the pier where we boarded a small inland vessel which carried us to our troop transport. It was a beautiful trip down to the harbor, but a sudden light squall and fog which quickly lifted was prophetic of things to come. We moved with remarkable efficiency. Changing boats at the main pier, we met the Red Cross ladies with coffee, cookies and smiles to relieve our bewilderment. The pause for the Red Cross refreshments was our only delay. We were immediately loaded into the huge ocean vessel and before we could orient ourselves, were under sail. (I forgot the censor wants this written on one side. I hope he has nothing to delete so far. The rest of my pages will comply[.]) Practically every soldier to a man stood out on the decks for a long time watching the coast of America become but a dim outline, then disappear. In the morning, there was nothing but the great circle of the horizon surrounding us. But before morning came many of us began feeling the uncertainty of our sea-legs. I guess it wasn’t a storm as sailors would count it, but certainly the ship rocked and felt untrustworthy to unaccustomed stomachs. By bedtime I had a pronounced naseau (?) and not only welcomed the opportunity of lying down but required it. The next day the ocean was somewhat calmer, but that initial experience has been enough to make every cigarette I smoke taste intolerable so that at this point I’m practically a non-smoker. To describe the ship, I fear, would be an infraction upon our beloved censor, so I’ll suffice it to say that we have been fortunate. Of course, this is no luxury cruise. Men crawl about the ship like ants in a huge cavernous, floating hill. When we’re not bumping into each other, we’re at our liesure. At least, so

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far it’s been that way, although some of the boys have been drawing K.P., guard, and clean up details and I expect to be next.18 Life goes on day after day as we monotonously etch an untraceable path across this huge ocean. The daily existence itself hasn’t become a monotony yet. But one marvels at the fortitude of the boat. We live so intimately with it so long, the ship itself seems to take on some super-human qualities, and to the crew I should think it would become something like a mother. It feeds and protects and affords pleasure. It is life’s only sustenance surrounded by a deceitfully beautiful sea. I have spent most of my waking hours on deck, reading, sunning or playing chess with Frank Andrus. Usually our chess games last two or three hours, so by the time we raise our eyes from the chess board, many miles of the ocean scene has passed. But still we haven’t missed a single tree or a single wave, for that matter. I have re-read two of Shakespeare’s plays—Romeo and Juliet and Julius Caesar. Also an H. G. Wells novel The Invisible Man. Of course, it is the Shakespeare I like. . . . Julius Caesar is superb, comparable to the Third or Fifth Symphonies of Beethoven. In my estimation it is a somewhat better play than Romeo and Juliet. . . . But certainly these two far surpass Titus Andronicus that you and I read with shock and horror together. . . . Well enough of this. Let me get back down to earth again. One of the best surprises I had on the ship was mail call. I really hadn’t expected any letters, and at the time of our first mail call I was feeling so nauseated I didn’t even bother to go. But Jim Abbott trots in with no less than five letters from you!19 I think from that moment on my sickness began leaving me. Two of the letters had been the first ones addressed to my A.P.O. The other 3 had been forwarded from Kearns. The dates on the envelopes were blurred so that I couldn’t read them chronologically. . . . Darling, I miss you and Sally Lou and dread to count the probable months I will be away from you. I love you both intensely and am proud to hear how well my little daughter is doing. With love and kisses from a far away sea Your loving daddy and husband

Frank.

★★★

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FRD-CDD, 2 May 1945, Somewhere on the Pacific My dearest, Again I’ll attempt a letter, although I have nothing new under the sun to report to you. And when I say sun, I [mean] a hot and blistering ball of fire that beats down on us unmercifully day after day. The ocean breeze is some salvation on deck, but even then one has to stand in the shade to enjoy it, unless he’s intent on getting a sun tan. Already, I’m as red as a cherry, and it’s a fortunate thing I crammed that pair of khaki shorts in my bag. I live in them now, day after day—that is, after I had sewed the darts in them to keep them on me. I’ll wager when I get home I’ll be black from this sun. We got paid the other day, so I’m not lacking any money. In fact, my worry is going to be finding something to do with it. PX lines on the ship are too long for me to endure, and the only penny I’ve spent since I boarded was 35¢ for a haircut today.20 If I don’t find a profitable way to spend the money when I land, I’ll probably be sending you some of it. We eat well on board, although we only get two meals per day—a breakfastdinner between 9:30 and 10, and a supper around 4:30. Two meals per day are easily enough, especially the hearty meals they give us here. I have a tremendous appetite, and unless I perspire myself skinny, I ought to be gaining weight. Much of the food served is frozen stuff like Birdseye foods, so we really get excellent fruit, vegetables and ice-cream. Even the bread has been frozen, and keeps remarkably fresh. . . . Honey, you can’t realize how much you and Sally Lou are on my mind. Standing at the rail and looking at the ocean is similar to sitting by a fire and staring at the embers. Both are highly conductive to contemplation, and invariably my thoughts jump back to you and my little puddin’. I think I’ve relived our lives since our marriage a hundred times as I’ve stood staring vacantly out across the vast waters. So many unforgetable incidents crop up and with the memories, I hear Chopin, Litz, Beethoven—that music that you are responsible in my knowing. The time we were together seems so brief now, and yet my life prior to our marriage seems so inconceibably [sic] remote. I hope this temporary separation will only weld us closer to each other, if more and greater love is possible. I guess, as in physics, so in human affairs, with every action there is a counter-action, so in spite of the bitterness and ugliness of our having to part, something good can grow out of it. I just read Hamlet. I honestly hesitated to start the play, because I recalled how I had read it on my trip to and from New Mexico the May we were married. . . . I found Hamlet tedious and difficult. But on re-reading it, I find it is

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the play of plays. It is something that seems to reach out beyond the confines of mere drama. . . . the deep meaning in Hamlet’s actions are enough to ponder a life time over.—How I wish we were reading these plays together—Sally Lou in her bed comfortably[.] You and I alternately reading the inconceivable truth and beauty in these lines—and sparkling gaiety and humor. Sweetheart, I’m run out now, except to tell you I could never run out of telling you how much I love you and miss you. And the same goes for Sally Lou, too. I hope my fears of how long this separation will be are unfounded. Always your devoted and loving husband Frank.

★★★

FRD-CDD, [May 1945], On the Pacific My darling, I’ve lost track of time and place. I neither know when nor where I am. If I were to date this letter, it would be literally beyond my memory. Days now are as trackless as the ocean and have no more meaning than the circle of the horizon. It is as though time and space were suspended, waiting, catching breath for the auspicious moment. Like the travelers in “Outward Bound,” we know neither where we’re going nor exactly why.21 And at the end of the voyage, some power (more worldly and infallible, unfortunately) will mete us out our fates—I fear it will not be based on our past experience as it was on the journey between heaven and earth. As for me, I would be willing to accept a sentence to some lonely and desolate island to be forgotten—and to forget. To purge my mind of human folly, indolence and bestiality. To escape, so that I may again learn to love my fellow man. To contemplate so that I may remember there has been wisdom and beauty among us. To worship what there is left of a God. Day and night I see you and Sally Lou. I count the hours backward and determine what you should be doing now. Perhaps it’s Sally Lou’s rising time, or you’re fixing dinner, and often I see you at the piano perhaps playing the Chopin Berceuse. I only wish you could to [do] the same for me with as fair a degree of accuracy. I know it must be much worse for you—just wondering and always stretching your imagination only to a void and emptiness.

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Sweetheart, believe me, I am well and happy, as happiness goes with our separation. I am, in spite of any cynicism. This voyage simply convinces me I cannot live close to humanity. It’s not conceit, rather it’s a terrible price to pay. But a constant quest for truth, love, beauty, precludes such constant and intimate contacts with men as this journey enforces upon me. But it is interesting how a common interest will secure a bond of friendship and understanding. We Tomah men know each other better than we ever had known each other in Wisconsin, and there is a mystical feeling of comradeship that I hadn’t known existed. Again, darling, thank Sally Lou for the written message, even though she’d rather eat the pen than write with it. Yes, I could read her hand quite easily, and best of all I have a mind’s eye picture of her writing it. . . . Your loving husband

Frank

★★★

FRD-CDD, [May? 1945], On the Pacific My darling, My only excuse for writing is that I haven’t written for several days. I have little that’s new to tell you, or that that I might tell you, I cannot. I made the mistake when I left the States of not providing myself with airmail stamps, so this letter and others to follow will have to poke across the Pacific back to you. In the meantime I’ll be sending V-Mail letters to bridge the gap while these slow letters are on their way. Right now we are docked [at Finschhafen, New Guinea]—have been for a day, but none of us gets shore liberty, so the same daily routine continues, except that we have the shore and harbor to gaze at. For a day previous to our docking, we had been seeing land masses rise on either side of us and disappear again beyond the horizon. Of course, the first sight of land was an event. We awoke one morning to find us passing quite close to islands. The sight was beautiful. There was that tropical mystery that one seemed to sense even miles out at sea from the land masses. Then Guadalcanal passed. I felt stupefied, gazing on what signified such terrific sacrifice.22

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Now, as we’re docked, we see the palms and the teeming jungle running up the slopes of the nearby hills. From this distance, it all looks enticing, challenging. Perhaps I’ve been reading too much of Conrad, and a sense of adventure therefore seizes me. The sea and the jungle! Two tremendous forces of nature. Both wild and forever taming the curiosity and restlessness of man. Each, with its own viciousness has its own incredible beauty as a lure. How long we’ll be docked here is anybody’s guess. And how long our journey will last after we leave is something else for conjecture. We’ve been fourteen days on this floating world of ours already, and it seems almost as many years. I long to set foot on land where I can walk a hundred feet and be away from sweating, cursing hordes. To be alone for a moment—that is the cure I need. . . . I finished reading some days ago King Lear and Macbeth. . . . As a matter of fact, I wish you’d send me a book each month unless I tell you otherwise later. You know what I like for reading. . . . As ever, with all my love, your Frank

★★★

FRD-AGD, [May? 1945], On the Pacific, [V-Mail] Dear Al, Just a brief note to let you know I’m somewhere on this terrestial globe. That’s about all I can tell you of interest now, because as you realize, I’m subject to censorship. A voyage like this is a liesurely affair. All I do about, is eat, read, sleep and sun myself. Of course, this ain’t no luxury cruise like the last one I took. Mostly, I’ve been reading and re-reading Shakespeare—Romeo & Juliet, Julius Caesar, King Lear, Hamlet and Macbeth. Hamlet is my favorite. . . . Love, etc. Frank etc.

★★★

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FRD-CDD, [May? 1945], On the Pacific, [V-Mail] Darling, Tomorrow our first mail goes out, so I’ll send a V-Mail along with an airmail and a regular delivery. I really have nothing new to tell you, for life on this boat is so much the same from day to day that it is difficult to distinguish one day from another. If only we could have another mail call on board, it would certainly become a red-letter day. I long to hear from you so much, and I know you are wondering and waiting, too. I have been doing practically nothing on board except eat, read, play chess and sleep. Oh yes, I did join the glee club, and we practice an hour each day— singing hymns, patriotic songs and folk songs. It’s a mixed choir and most of the voices are pretty good. At least it consumes an hour of our time. . . . As always, your Frank ★★★

FRD-CDD [15 May 1945] En Route (V-Mail) . . . Yesterday was our Second Anniversary and I regret I wasn’t there to present you with a remembrance. Sweetheart, there’s nothing I could buy you that would be worthy of those two years. I only hope we’ll not be separated for our next celebration. . . . Love and kisses to my little daughter and always all my love to you.— Frank. ★★★

FRD-CDD, [18? May 1945], Somewhere in the Philippines My darling, At last we’re on terra firma. Yes, somewhere in the Philippines. We got in yesterday, and in spite of the difficulties of our debarkation and assignment to

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a post, I am much happier than I was on that ship. Life was much too crowded and confined for me there, and worse it was tedious and monotonous. I fear I have been unfaithful, not writing every day as I used to do back in the states, but I found it quite impossible, not so much from a physical point of view, but from the standpoint of e[n]nui. Whenever I did have good intentions to write you from the ship, I could never find a place to sit. The boat was stripped of furniture and the only thing left for us was the deck to sit on. But it wasn’t as easy as it sounds to find a couple of square feet of deck space. Shortly after we set foot on land here, it began to rain, and continued a torrential downpour for an hour. We were soaked to our hides and looked like drowned rats. I had a couple [of] letters in my field bag to mail you, but they’ve practically been ruined by the rain. What’s still good and readable I’ll enclose with this letter. . . . I wish you were here beside me a few minutes ago, for I was enjoying one of your favorites—a fresh cocoanut I bought from a native. I’ve eaten so much of it, my jaws are actually tired from chewing. The natives come around to our tents with fruit balanced on their head in a basket. (God what a pencil!) But I’m ahead of my story. I have seen the scars of battle now on the towns and people. Yesterday, the trucks hauling us from the wharf took us to the wrong camp and that mistake gave us a sight of about [censored number] miles of towns and countryside. We were in agony during the entire ride, because our full packs were on our backs and we were packed in the rear of the truck, but in spite of the discomfort, it was worth seeing the sights. (This, I fear, will be a mess of a letter. I just interrupted it to eat chow and got ink in the meantime.) But there were the burned and charred and pock-marked buildings everywhere. Wrecks of airplanes strewn about, and [censored passage, 3/4 line] at places [censored passage, 3/4 line]. You see pictures of these things in the paper, and read about them, but somehow the reality of seeing the real thing penetrates deeper into the consciousness. It’s the people who make the sorriest sights. Not so much their appearance. They don’t look excessively thin although they undoubtedly have suffered from malnutrition. They seem to be bewildered, helpless and able to rely on the American authorities (Naval, Army or Marine) for help—for employment or sheer American generosity. Children 5 to 10 years old stand alongside our mess lines asking for the scrapings from our plates before we dump them into the cans. The women folk, in immaculately washed cotton dresses go all day through our camps peddling fruit or asking for laundry to wash. Of course, the morals of these people haven’t been helped by the Jap. invasion, nor does any Army regardless of what nationality, improve morality, especially in the narrower sense of the word—sex morality. In the space of time I’ve

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been [censored passage, several lines] smile. Of course, the soldiers aren’t even at liberty to perform the act, but it still doesn’t restrain them from asking. I don’t censure either party. It’s an inevitable social reaction to war and the deprivation of men from normal contacts. But let the flag-waving moralists back home know their boys are too human—sometime a little less than human.23 I’ll quit writing here and try to resume my story tomorrow. I have so much more to tell you. All my love sweetheart and kisses to both Sally Lou and you. As always, your devoted husband

Frank.

★★★

FRD-CDD, 19 May 1945, Somewhere in the Philippines Darling, Coming into a “foreign” land like this, one receives so many impressions so rapidly, it is difficult to assimilate all their significance. And I know my letters are just as bewildering as the kaleidoscopic impressions I have been subjected to. But bear with me, and you might get some picture of my surroundings, even if it’s like a jig-saw puzzle you must piece together. I like it here, like it immensely, even though I’m ready to return to you and Sally Lou anytime. I told you yesterday we had arrived in a driving tropical rain. When we got to our Company grounds we found our tents like small islands in a sea of mud. Gooey, gumbo-like mud was everywhere ankle deep, and we sloughed through it as though we had been accustomed to it all our Army days. I suppose it was the release from the confines of the [ship] that made anything different seem welcome.24 Had we endured such rain and mud back in the States we would have bitched to high heaven. But here we were all mindful of hardships we might have to face, and I can say truthfully I think we rather enjoyed our Philippine baptism of rain and mud. We rather joked about it, and I think it made us feel like soldiers for a change. At any rate, we stood in the mud waiting for our tent assignments and anxiously . . . watching the chow line across the road.

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By the time we had finally eaten, it stopped raining and we were better able to survey our position. The jagged mountains in the distance—all the Phillippines are mountainous—the funny native houses nearby propped on stilts to keep them above the damp earth. To me it all looked exotic, and still does. We have been doing little except settling ourselves more comfortably. The sticky mud has dried up now and has given us a chance to set ourselves in better order. There are eight of us to a tent. Chuck Glasier, oddly enough, got assigned to my tent.25 Funny how he has been following me or I him for almost 3 years. We have a swell group of fellows in the tent. I can always stand the ignorant and uneducated fellows in small doses, but on the ship [it] was too much, too much. A group of eight in a tent makes a nice variety of opinion, education and interests, so I’m really enjoying my new “home.” Today the fellows in my tent hired a Filipino boy as an orderly. We pay him a dollar a day, and he gets water for us, cleans around our tent and runs errands. He looks like a lad of 8 or 9, but actually he’s 15 years old. All the Filipinos are comparatively small in stature and deceiving as to age. Our boy’s name is Pacifico Vagkalianwan, a rather eager and helpful chap. All the Filipinos strike me as being quite clean as I mentioned before, although a great many of them are riddled with diseases of some sort or another. They peddle thru our camp every waking hour of the day and of course, they all have atrocity stories to tell about the Japs. . . . Love

Frank.

★★★

FRD-CDD, [May 1945], Somewhere in the Philippines My darling, [One or two words censored] I missed writing you because after I had finished detail work I had a pass and got to Manila in the evening. I didn’t get back till almost [time censored] so there was no chance of my getting a letter off to you.

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I’ve received such a flood of mail from you, I hang my head in shame. My only excuse is that I have often failed to accept the inconvenience sometimes necessitated in writing. I hope from now on you will get letters regularly. . . . I also got a letter from the American Association of Social Workers which stated that the Army was releasing men over 34 years of age for UNRRA Service.26 So that leaves me out. However, I’m still going to send my application in, for if the war continues to progress favorably, there may be a chance of getting a discharge. I think foreign service work with United Nations Relief & Rehabilitation Administration would be valuable experience. But of course it may mean absence from my family for a while again. At least I’d be in a field of work I like and it undoubtedly would be a worthwhile sacrifice.27 Now about Manila. My mention of it the other day was brief, because I really hadn’t seen much. Honestly, the devestation and destruction is positively staggering. I don’t think I saw a single downtown building intact except the Cathedral. In the residential districts, home after home is a shambles, and occasionally you see one house unscathed. It sticks out like a sore thumb, and one wonders what miracle spared it. The city must truly have been the Pearl of the Orient. It was an extremely modern city in respect to architecture—far more modern and in better taste than most American cities. You get that impression from an imaginary reconstruction you can conceive out of the ruins. The spirit of the people is amazing. In the ruins they have tried to reestablish their businesses under the most unimaginable handicaps—almost a complete lack of public utilities. Of course, this situation makes for a danger of disease, especially in respect to lack of sufficient pure water. . . . . . . I get little news here except major details of the war, and during the capitulation of Germany I had only a scant covering of the events, consequently I didn’t get all keyed up about it as you might have been. I can sense your excitement and thanksgiving in almost every letter. I love your descriptions of Sally Lou. Keep me informed of all those little details. If it might seem monotonous and excessive to you to rave about our daughter, remember, I want it and need it. I’d like to have seen her sleeping with her mother. I still carry the vision of you and her in the lower berth of our Pullman compartment. I’m glad the necklace arrived. I had to gather from snatches in your letters that it had until finally I got the letter describing its arrival. Did I tell you in order to get new pearls added it has to be sent back to the factory? Sweetheart as soon as I send you my permanent address I’d like you to send me a few things, even before you send me the book. Send me a package with a few bars of face soap, some Gillette type razor blades, a mirror (preferably metal, if possible) and that’s all I can think of at the present. I thought you might get these together ready for shipment.

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I don’t know what happens to all the cigarettes you folks back there don’t smoke, but certainly we don’t get any. In a way, I’m glad, for I’ve cut down on smoking, and their scarcity helps me avoid them. Don’t send any. . . . Love Frank . . . ★★★

CDD-FRD, 24 May 1945, Altheimer, Arkansas My Darling, This has been the nicest day! This morning went by with the usual routine, plus a big washing for the baby. I wanted to go to Pine Bluff to have Dr. Ried [Reid] give Sally Lou her last shot, and decided to go with Father [Ralph A. Dickey] in the truck. I’d sworn off going that way since the last time, but there was no other way, except bus or train, and either way we’d have been in P.B. [Pine Bluff] longer than I wanted to be, so I took what I thought was the lesser of evils. Dr. Reid found Sally Lou to weigh 18 lbs. 3 oz. That’s a gain of two pounds since you saw her. He prescribed a three meal a day schedule, not counting the 6:00 A.M. bottle. She’ll get that, breakfast at 9:00 (cereal and fruit), dinner of vegetables, egg, baked potato, and bottle at 1:00, and supper of cereal and fruit and bottle at 5:30. Her shot didn’t seem to bother her very much. Again she didn’t cry until he took the needle out, and was easily quieted. I had to wait some time in the office for Father to come for us. She was so good and sweet, although she was missing her nap. There were several women in the waiting room, and it would have done your heart good to have heard them talk about Sally Lou. I’ve decided to always rave to mothers about their babies because I now know how good it makes a mother feel. Just as we were leaving Altheimer we stopped at the p.o. for mail, and I got the next best thing to a letter from you. Your pictures came, and oh darling, they’re just wonderful. I’ve just looked and looked at you, and only your actual presce [presence] could make me happier. Sally Lou loves your pictures. She reaches for them and would have kissed you had I let her get close enough. (Her kisses are big juicy licks.) I’ve plan[n]ed to save Dad’s [Frank A. Dietrich] for Father’s Day, and will send Grace’s on, with the instructions not to mention it to Dad, for I’d like for him to be surprised. I wish you could see yourself. I prefer the one without the hat.

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After we came back from town, Mother and I took a walk over to the prison camp.28 I felt a bit strange, but soon we were greeted by a couple of guards, and Willis Clary.29 Then Mrs. Shearer, the doctor’s wife came out to talk with us, and invited us to have supper there. (Dot was home with Sally Lou.) Of course we were delighted to stay. All the soldiers had eaten, so Mother, Mrs. S and I had the dining room to ourselves. The P.W.s [prisoners of war] were waiting the table, washing dishes, etc. The one who served us was a nice appearing fellow, and of course Mother got up a conversation in a little time. He understood English and spoke it very little. Mother asked his age, and he told he was 26. He was very pleasant and most anxious to please us. Finally I got to talking with him. He told me he was from Bavaria (Nuremberg). After a time, I told him you had been to school in Munich. He has asked me if I was married, where my husband was, etc. He couldn’t understand where Munich was, and I was amazed. He acted as though he’d never heard of the place. Then he went over to talk with other prisoners to find out where Munich was. His face lightened and he said, “Oh, Moonich!” Then he made a special effort to teach me the correct pronunciation of the name of the city. Both Mother and I realized we would have been guilty of “coddling,” for he seemed to be such a sweet, normal sort of fellow, with all the earmarks of kindliness.30 Such experiences make me hate the war with more vehemence. . . . Sally Lou just won’t lie down and go to sleep as easily as she used to, since she’s learned to sit herself up. I put her down and in two minutes she’s sitting straight up playing with her feet, blanket, or whatever toy there might be in her bed. She can almost pull herself up to stand. Oftentimes when I try to put her down she stiffens out her knees, catches hold of the side of the crib and stands there for a time. She is so adorable. . . . All my love forever, Chris ★★★

FRD-CDD, 25 May 1945, Somewhere in the Philippines Darling, I feel I have so inadequately given you a description of the Philippines and its people, yet words are a poor substitute at best and it takes a Joseph Conrad to make things vivid and impressive. Our trip down to my present station was so

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colorful and picturesque. There were the villages with the thatched houses and mat walls propped up high on bamboo poles; the stations where we stopped with the children running along the train hollering “Hi, Joe, gimme candy.” Some were selling bananas, pineapples, mangos and some sort of rice cake. We bought some pineapples and a huge native orange that was twice the size of our largest grapefruit. The skin proved to be almost an inch thick and the meat almost lacked juice completely. There were the rice fields or rice paddies, I think they’re called, with contoured embankments to keep in the water. They break the landscape up into a pretty pattern. The water buffalo or more properly, the carabao, we saw too with their long horns and slouching necks. Frequently they were slopping around in mud holes to keep their skins moist and cool. They are beasts of burden as well as the source of milk and meat to the Filipinos. Today we got our first introduction to our outfit. What an amazing and pleasant surprise. Instead of the normal barking, biting first sergeant, we met a gentleman, who introduced himself with a friendly hand shake. He’s an intelligent lad, and I suspect doing a very good job. Why any C.O. [commanding officer] tolerates those ignoramuses like they do back in the states, is more than I can understand. We’re still awaiting assignment to duty, although we did get to talk with our communications officer about our general qualifications. So in place of any assigned duty, we spent much of the day fixing up our tent, digging a drainage ditch around it, etc. George Bishop, I’ll confess, did most of the work. He’s an extremely high strung person, unable to relax a second, and brother, in this heat, relaxing was all I felt like doing. Our supply was good enough to issue us our rations of cigarettes, soap, tooth powder and chocolate bars, even though we were late for the regular day of issue. We got 11 packages of cigarettes! I don’t know how long they’re to last. And as you might suspect from this stationary, we found a PX. In fact, it just opened its doors today. Besides this, I got toilet articles and believe it or not, a Modern Library Edition of Joseph Conrad’s Victory, which I lay reading today while Bishop worked. When the news of V-E Day arrived, I was on the high seas as you had supposed, but I didn’t have my ears glued to any radio, for there was none to glue them to. I got the news from our daily news sheet that was issued with a large headline: VE-Day. . . . Always your devoted husband— Frank ★★★

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FRD-CDD, 28 May 1945, Somewhere in the Philippines My darling, If the days could be as full of interest to you as they are for me, our prolonged separation would be easy to bear for both of us. Perhaps your days are filled with interest and devotion to Sally Lou anyway. I only wish I could share it with you and you could share the novelty and excitement of seeing this country and its peoples. I’ve only given you brief and cursory glimpses of the populace. I told you how the women had paraded through our last camp with large flat baskets on their heads filled with fruit (the baskets, I mean, not the heads). They are a dark race, about the color of the light Negros back home, but they have the mongol features that make them distinct. They look somewhat like our Navajos, except that the Filipinos are much shorter in stature. Near my point of duty there is a small native village or hamlet of the usual propped houses of bamboo matting and thatched roofs. Most of the Filipinos in and around town look quite clean, but at this native hamlet poverty seemed more acute and appearances weren’t kept up so well. The little children were especially unkempt and dirty. The boys up to the age of about seven, I judge, walk around with nothing but a short waist [vest] across their shoulders. From the hips down they are perfectly nude and every time I see one of them I am tempted to say, “Don’t look now but there’s something showing.” For some peculiar reason, the girls are always clothed modestly although I should think there would be less conspicuousness if the boys’ and girls’ garb were reversed. I suppose it has been the influence of Catholic puritanism (!) and emphasis on virginity that has caused this situation to exist. Rather peculiar. As I write there’s a black marketer in our tent, a young Filipino about 20 years of age. The black marketers are always coming around our tents trying to buy our G.I clothes and equipment. The mattress covers especially are coveted. Of course, they pay good prices compared to the dollar and cents value back in the States, but at the same time they can resell the goods at almost fabulous prices, making a considerable profit for themselves. It’s all the inevitable aftermath of war and inflation. When civilian goods begin to be shipped, the black marketing should decline rapidly. The Filipinos are more fortunate than the peoples of Europe in that they have the United States government backing them and it is probable that the pesos they are amassing now will increase in value as civilian goods begin to flow. There is scarcely a liklihood that their currency will become valueless as it did in Germany following the last war. So in the long run, they will probably find themselves in a financially advantageous

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position, especially those away from the large cities who have not suffered severe losses in property damages. But to get back to the children, during some liesure hours out by the hamlet I was describing, I spent some considerable time with the children, talking with them and playing with them. Talking is hardly the word, for they know practically no English. The children in the larger towns are at least a little familiar with English, but these kids were as amused at my talking as I was with their unintelligible words. We got along by pointing at things and naming them in our respective languages. The Filipinos do not speak Spanish as I had supposed, although there are occasional Spanish words used, especially in religious matters. They have their own dialects which vary throughout the islands. I have no idea what language root their dialects stem from, although I rather suspect it is oriental. The children are reserved but readily warm up to you when you show the least inclination to be interested in them. At the bamboo hamlet there was Poquito, Catalino, Victorio. These were my favorites. I couldn’t help showing partiality for various reasons. Many, if not most of the children have very bad teeth, often rotted black, but these three must have been endowed with harder enamel, consequently they displayed huge smiles that were irresistible. Some of the children I avoided because they were dressed too filthy to want to be near, although they all stood round about me fascinated as they watched Poquito and Catalino and me go through some tricks I taught them. Unfortunately, I had to neglect the little girls. I don’t know why, but most of the girls have running sores on their legs, anywhere from the size of a dime to the size of a quarter. I have been told it is a fungus infection but I have no idea as to the truth of this. At any rate, their condition forced me to avoid them, at least in so far as swinging them and playing with them, but of course, in true feminine style (it must be universal) they sat and chatted with me incessantly. But Poquito and Catalino I couldn’t resist. Poquito, in his short waist, only seven years old but looking for the world like a 5 year old. Catalino was dressed a little more sumptuously, wearing short white trousers. Both of them were comparatively clean in appearance. I stood Poquito on my large G.I shoes and walked around with him, taking huge strides much to his amusement and the other children dancing hysterically with laughter round about. Poquito loved it and Catalino who had sensed I favored him, jumped on my feet to have the same thing done to him. They were as thrilled as an American child would be with a rolling coaster ride. Then I put one of them on each foot and walked around with both of them clinging to my arms and bouncing up and down on my feet. They were positively wild with joy, chattering and screaming I don’t know what.

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I let them cling to my outstretched arm and bracing it with my other hand, swung them around in a great circle and jostling them up and down as they went around. I showed them how to skin the cat, which seemed so funny to Victorio, I feared he wouldn’t survive his laughing spell. The merriment became so great it attracted the parents and ancient looking grandparents who came out and sat near us watching with fascination. When they approached I addressed them, “Cómu¯ sta˘g´a.” I had learned to say hello from our laundress back at the tent. I could see the old folks were stunned and the children shouted with glee repeating time and again my salutation. A little later the same thing happened when I became tired and the heat of the late morning began to mount. “Ma˘pálee ñany” I said out of a clear sky. “Ma˘pálee, ma˘pálee ñany.” It is hot, very hot. I suppose my pronunciation wasn’t too good. It certainly amused the whole company, but they understood what I meant. I retreated then for a rest. Do you know, it wasn’t till today I learned that Churchill had resigned! It had happened 3 or 4 days ago, I’m told. I was casually listening to a short wave news broadcast when the announcer said in just as casual a manner: “Since the resignation of Prime Minister Churchill. . . . [ellipsis in original] etc.” I was stunned. I only hope Bevin gets into the job following the general election. . . .31 . . . I write like a woman gabbles. Nevertheless, my love is in every word, regardless of what I’m writing about. Your devoted husband and daddy,

Frank

★★★

FRD-CDD, 8 June (I think) [1945], Somewhere in the Philippines My Darling, What a God-send—the Red Cross! I just discovered it. Well, not exactly, I had seen the building several times before, but I thought nothing of it. There seemed never to be any activity around the place, so I never bothered to go in until tonight. Here I find ample stationary, ink and in the far corner of the room is a small library. I haven’t explored the titles of the books yet, but I’m only hoping I’ll find something besides Westerns.

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The Red Cross is situated in one of the aristocratic Filippino homes. I haven’t looked over the whole place yet. When I spied the writing desk and stationary I stopped dead right there. But this building, as I was starting to explain, is something beautiful in its typical light airy Filippino style. It’s much more solid than the bamboo structures the average of the populace lives in. It is constructed of the native mahogany with a black and white checkered tile floor on the ground storey. Like all the homes, lowly or splendid, the exterior walls are mostly glassless windows with sliding shutters. Until air conditioning becomes widely used, this will be the typical construction of all homes purely for comfort’s sake. The wide, generous windows admit any slightest breeze which of course is more than welcome in the tropical heat. On the outside of the windows in this building there is a delicately but not too elaborately worked grill of iron. Hanging out precisely at the top edge of the window frames are low eaves of mahogany with a pierced pattern of coping done in galvanized metal. It’s quite attractive. The interior walls are solid mahogany except about a foot from the ceiling they open into a pattern of grill work done in the same wood. This eliminates the feeling of being crated like our American rooms create. The lattice against the ceiling also is practical to allow free circulation of air. Of course, there is a slight sacrifice of privacy if one would have secrets to tell, but the whole affair is built on a principle of family intimacy which I think should grace any home. . . . I hope this gives you some idea of this home. Reading back over what I’ve written I find my sentence construction so atrocious and perplexing, you may have fancied the cellar being in the attic. I was coming from the movie when I discovered the Red Cross. The movie was Tallulah Bankhead in “Royal Scandal.”32 I enjoyed it quite thoroughly. It’s hilarious, of course. Apparently I was just in the mood for such a farce. I’d recommend seeing it. This afternoon just before supper (I’m writing of the day’s events in reverse order as you discovered) [Bud] Weal, Milligan and I walked down to the market place. Weal had never been there; Milligan wanted to buy Filippino cigarettes and I was getting hungry for a cocoanut. The market will always yield fascination no matter how many times I go there. It was the same as I had described in a previous letter. Weal was very much impressed. That’s what I like about the fellow. He seems to absorb his surroundings into every pore and develops a certain simple excitement. Well, we made our purchases, I succumbing to buy a pack of native cigarettes. They’re atrocious—like smoking the butts of cigars from a cuspidor. The tobacco in them is almost black. . . . Emerging from the market place we saw a group of Filippinos in a close cluster. My curiosity was aroused. Actually, I expected to see them at their peculiar gambling games tossing coins or rolling three dice. I thought it would

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be interesting to watch them a while. When we got to the group, it wasn’t gambling at all that I saw. I beheld the strangest and most unexpected sight. It was a family of natives from the mountains who had come down to the lowlands for trading. They were talking to a group of the local natives. What surprised me was their complete dissimilarity to the Filippinos I had always seen. They were aborigines, there was no doubt about it.33 Their hair, instead of being black and straight was a mass of black fuzz similar to our Negros except much bushier. They were all even shorter in stature than the local natives. A child, perhaps four or five years old was stark naked and stood whimpering by his mother who was clothed in rags. A boy I judged to be about 18 wore nothing but a loincloth. The older people were more thoroughly clothed, although in rags. One old patriarch wore a tattered Japanese shirt. They were carrying a couple guns—long peculiar looking weapons, apparently ancient. In addition they had bows with long arrows as tall as themselves. Each shaft was tipped with a long and vicious looking iron tip. We talked sometime with one of the local boys who had been conversing with them. They have their own language but also know Pampango, the tongue of the Filippinos living here. We were told they live in caves and huts, raise rice which they occasionally bring to town to barter for other necessities. The whole family had walked some forty miles or more to make this expedition. There must have been about a dozen of them ranging from nursing infants to old and decrepit patriarchs. I wondered how long it took them to make their trek. . . . Your

Frank

★★★

FRD-CDD, 11 June 1945 (Sunday), Somewhere on Luzon, Philippines My darling, Last night I went to bed a little later than usual after writing that long letter to you till the Red Cross closed. I hit the sack sometime after 10 o’clock—a late hour for me in these parts.

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When the church bells woke me this morning I lay still on my bunk contemplating the day of liesure I had ahead of me. I was even reluctant to get up in time for breakfast, but the thought of good hot coffee aroused me and I made it to the mess hall in time. . . . Back at the tent again, I sat reading my Good Night Sweet Prince when an eleven year old Filippino boy walked in selling rum.34 In a few minutes of conversation with him I discovered that he was more than usually intelligent. So the two of us sat on my cot conversing for an hour and a half. I was interested in his Pampango language so I had him write out and pronounce for me the conjugation of the verb to be and other words. I was trying to discover if the language belongs to the Oriental tongues like Chinese. Of course, I can’t make any definite conclusions because I don’t know the characteristics of Oriental grammar. I did discover that their verb forms take on the characteristics of the Latin verbs; namely, that the pronouns are dropped and become part of the verb. This one thing would make me think the language has roots elsewhere than from the Orient. It is an absurd assumption on such little evidence. I wish I could get hold of a treatise on the languages. Pampango is a dialect spoken in these parts, but the official language of the islands is Talanga [Tagalog]. (That’s the way I remember the pronunciation. I don’t know how it’s spelled.) But to get back to Vlademir, my new Filippino friend, he is a healthy, round faced boy with a great smile that shows a front tooth edged with a gold filling. He told me he is an orphan living with his aunt and uncle. Before the war they were accustomed to live in comparative luxury—a large home with “walls” (the word walls always meaning the more substantial construction of stone or cement)[.] There were servants in the home and nice furnishings. This all came to a disastrous end when the Japs set fire to the home. His uncle is now in the liquor business (what Filippino isn’t!) and one of his aunts teaches school. I asked Vlademir—incidentally his name surprised me for most of the natives have Spanish names. I suggested he had a Russian name but he explained the name was German (which it well might have been) taken from a German-American sailor who had been a friend of his father. —as I was saying, I asked Vlademir if he knew of a place we could rent bicycles. By now the weather was clearing beautifully and the thought of a bike trip seemed perfect. Vlademir thought he knew of a place we could rent bicycles so we made arrangements to meet the boy at his home after dinner. On our way to his house, George and I ran into Vlademir near the B-29 Super-Fortress Café. The lad led us into the yard and invited us to meet his aunts and family. We went through a gate and past the ruins of the once spa-

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cious home. There were nothing but the foundation stones giving an outline of the size of the former home. Full grown banana trees had already sprung up in the ruins. In the yard at the rear was their present home, a small stilted bamboo three room hut like most of the natives live in. It must be a tragic comparison to their former way of living. I was glad of my first opportunity to enter one of these typical bamboo homes and we were given a warm welcome by the elders. Vlademir properly introduced me as “Frank” and not knowing Bishop’s name he passed over this slight with perfect equilibrium. I volunteered the introduction as “George.” We walked up a low, wide bamboo ladder into the kitchen which was a very narrow, low-ceilinged, dark room. I was afforded only a glimpse of the kitchen for one step beyond the top of the bamboo ladder took me into the dining room. This was another narrow room but considerably more cheerful. A table and benches barely squeezed into the whole space. One more step or two brought me into the living room. Of course, the whole of these houses is on a diminutive scale. The living room was about five yards square. Its furnishings consisted of an iron cot, a glass cabinet cluttered with miscellaneous things, two small tables, two handsome hard wood chairs that would grace the best of dining room suites in America, and a basket cradle that hung like a small hammock across the room. In this a small naked eleven month old boy was sleeping. He seemed perfectly comfortable lying bare on the wicker. The whole of the room was of bamboo construction except the steep gabled ceiling which was corrugated sheet iron, a dull black from the lamps and candles that were used at night. But in spite of the dark and almost sinister ceiling above the bamboo rafters and supports, the room was bright and cheerful. The large windows were responsible for this plus the meticulous cleanliness of all but the inaccessible ceiling. We were treated to a snort of powerful raisin wine. George, as you suspect, never drinks but he did screw up enough courage to try the beverage. When it touched his tongue he made such a face he had to apologize by admitting he never drinks. There was some hearty laughter. Next came a taste of rum which George wisely declined. . . . A mango melon was brought in for George and me to taste. Being familiar with the fruit back in the states, I found it no novelty, but it was George’s first taste of the wild delicacy. The first bite impressed George—the wrong way! He couldn’t eat it. It must have been Vlajmier (I can’t spell it. There’s an “h” in there somewhere, I think)[.] Vlajhmier (?) Steffanson (?) who made my taste buds universally more receptive.35 I remember reading in his My Life with the Eskimo that he discovered people of narrow experience and limited education were less

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apt to accept foods of unfamiliar tastes. From that time on I have been prepared to relish quinine if it were served me, otherwise my ego would collapse. We took leave of our hosts to go in search of bicycles with Vlademir leading us. We were dismayed to discover that the cycle shop had none. From there, our guide took us to a sign painter’s home where he thought we could borrow or rent bicyles. But no luck. The one bike he had was minus half the spokes in one wheel. Nevertheless he offered it, but we were afraid of collapsing it into a corpse of a bike. But the visit was not without rewards. We sat chatting some time with the sign painter. He was politically alert and informed on issues of war, inflation and other matters that have been upsetting his country in the past few years. He wants the Philippines to become independent as a United States Protectorate. When I suggested entering the Union as a State, he thought that would be much better but admitted little hope of such an arrangement. . . . . . . It’s taking about 15 days for your letters to arrive—a month for one exchange of letters. But I suspect when you get my permanent address the time will be considerably shortened. . . . All my love, my darling Forever Frank. ★★★

FRD-CDD, 14 June 1945, Somewhere on Luzon, Philippines Darling, I’m tired and filthy, so soon I’m going back to the tent, take a shower and go to bed. K.P. today wasn’t hard, but it’s the long hours that have worn me out. After supper the four K.P’s who were assigned made a rush job of cleaning up the mess hall so we could go to the show. . . . Today’s letter from you indicated you were sweating out a wait for letters again. Even the letters I had sent by regular mail hadn’t arrived, I presume, but by now you should be getting my letters regularly from here. Yes, most of the female voices in the choir on the boat were lovely Army nurses. Some were Red Cross workers. Too bad there isn’t a thing like that around here. I mean a mixed chorus, of course.

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You were indeed a bold spider to purchase your things at the Commissary under the eyes of the “snooping captain” who had demanded more credentials. It does amuse me or amaze me that you developed a nostalgia for the Army Post. Lord, I don’t even want to see a Boy Scout after this war. When Sally Lou starts crawling like Bobby Schwendimann [sic], I suggest you do what the Filippinos do.36 Let her romp naked, then you’ll only have her to bathe and no clothes to wash and constantly change. It’s just a practical suggestion from Daddy, but Sally Lou might not like it, huh? I wish I could be playing with her. I’m sure I’d take her for a walk until she got tired pointing out her little arm telling me to walk a bit more. Sweetheart I’m going to clean myself up now and go to bed. My eyes are heavy and all my limbs weary. I’ll just put myself to sleep thinking of you and Sally Lou. All my love, my darlings,

Frank.

★★★

FRD-CDD, 17 June 1945, Somewhere on Luzon, Philippines My darling, After nine hours sleep, I got up at seven o’clock and whiled away the morning liesurely—reading, emptying my duffle bag and drying my clothes which I discovered were becoming mildewed. After the noon chow I was too restless to hang around the tent around longer. I felt a precious day was wasting away. Weal and Milligan were on duty and only Bishop was around. I had decided to strike out towards the mountains but I had no inclination to have George accompany me. I would go alone. So I armed myself with my volume of Shakespeare in the event that if worse came to worse I could sit in the shade of the country and read. I never had to resort to Shakespeare, even though I didn’t quite make it to the mountains. I started walking up the road towards the hills and after I had walked about a mile, a Jeep picked me up and took me to a nearby town located at the

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foothills. As I started to leave the town in the direction of the nearby slopes I crossed a bridge and became intrigued watching two Filippinos fishing. What held my attention was their primitive technique. They were actually spearing the fish. I stood on the bridge a long time completely fascinated and oblivious of my original goal. Finally, the temptation to go down to them became too much. To get down into the ravine I had to cross through two yards around bamboo houses that lay adjacent to the bridge. I suppose the occupants wondered what visitor was coming, but I didn’t care. When I got to the fishermen, one of them proudly held up his string of fish. I complemented him and ask[ed] to see their equipment. One of them had a spear about a yard long with five sharp points at the end. This he would shoot off a rod by means of a heavy rubber band from an inner tube. The other one had a fancier weapon but which I learned later was far less effective. His was designed like a rifle; that is, it had a stock with a trigger that released the gum band and sent the short spear flying. Another modern accoutrement were their goggles. Both of them had hand made goggles carved out of wood so that they fit very snug around the nose and eyes. Pieces of mirror with the mercury removed served as lenses. Their technique was this. They swam around under-water searching among the boulders and along the banks for the fish. Their spears they carried under-water with them, and when they spied a fish, usually trapped in a crevice, they let the long dart fly. In shallow water they waded bent over with their heads stuck down under water and only their buttocks exposed above the surface. They looked comical but were perfectly serious in their fishing and seemed to be enjoying it because of their good catch. They must have had about a dozen fish ranging from a few inches in length to seven or eight inches. Each time they caught a fish they threw it to a young (and rather pretty) girl who followed them along the shore. The three of them worked upstream this way and I followed along watching them and laughing with them when they made a catch. They were quite friendly and when they saw that my interest persisted to following on up stream with them[,] one of the lads (they all were about 18 or 20 years old) asked me “You want try?” Lord, I lost no time in getting my clothes off. I stood in my shorts the same as the fishermen were dressed, and let the fellow adjust the goggles on me. Then I took the spear and began swimming around, poking my head between and under boulders, looking and searching for fish. The visibility because of the goggles was remarkable. Their home-made glasses were far

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more effective than the rubber suction type manufactured in America. The advantage in the wooden frames was the lack of suction on the eyeballs. The rubber types distort vision by pulling the eyeballs out from their sockets. I’ve seen them make the eyes protrude like a maniacs. But the wooden types were perfectly water tight and sans the suction. It goes without saying I enjoyed the peculiar form of fishing even though I didn’t spy a single fish. I didn’t fish long because I feared I was wasting their time when they as experts could be catching more fish. I sat on a hot boulder drying myself as I continued to watch the progress of the fishing. When they were finally through I walked back to town with them and when I was about to leave, they offered me their largest fish! Good God! What was I going to do with the slimy thing. It was a kind gesture, but completely baffled me. I took it while I explained I didn’t know how I’d cook it. One suggested I poke it on a stick and roast it over a fire. I had weird visions of myself doing that. So I gave the fish back and told them I’d rather fish with them again. They were delighted so we made a date to meet next Sunday. We’d fish then build a fire and eat them. I was to bring the bread! Every time I tried to adjust a situation, some new complication arose. I’m still supposed to bring the bread. How am I going to get a loaf of bread—steal it from the mess hall? can you send me one quick? I’ve never seen bread on the market. I think it’s rather scarce. To appreciate my difficulties you have to realize there is a terrific impediment because of our language differences. Most of the Filippinos speak English quite poorly and it is often most difficult to have them understand your meanings or intentions. That’s the reason I didn’t even bother to rectify the bread incident. . . . Sweets, I wish you and Sally Lou could have been with me on my unexpected fishing expedition. Sally Lou would have loved the water, wouldn’t she? The day was so perfect and the beauty of the stream flowing among the rich vegetation of bamboo and tall reeds was glorious. Good night my darlings. I hope daddy will be coming back soon. All my love

Frank

★★★

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FRD-CDD, 18 June 1945, Somewhere on Luzon, Philippines Darling, . . . The coming of the Americans to the Philippines in such quantities certainly must be making a tremendous impression on the Filippinos, and I dare say, it will have a profound effect on their post-war lives. I imagine the first thing that must impress them is the extreme cleanliness of our soldiers, especially in comparison with the Japs. The Americans will erect a shower and dig out latrines before they have established a mess hall. Although the Filippinos are clean themselves, they are not what you would precisely call sanitary. When I was writing about morality before, I was trying to avoid the common co[n]notation (?).Wars are inevitably means of breaking down former codes of morality. In some instances, it may be a good thing, for it may release a population from archaic taboos that no longer have a place in modern society. In other instances it may be a factor in breaking the fabric of a well organized social life. Many of the American soldiers feel a loss of restraint in an environment away from the States. Because the Filippinos are obviously of a different race, there is the apparent belief that they are “uncivilized” or “uncultured.” Civilization to so many Americans, unfortunately, is measured by the enormous wealth of material things. This, of course, is sheer foolishness, as Phillip [sic] Wylie so strongly pointed out.37 Anyone who has read even a smattering of anthropology knows that the more primitive cultures have a code of morality and taboos far stricter than the more advanced cultures. This is the point that most of our overseas men fail to appreciate. The Filippino code is derived both from the Spanish and their own former cultures together with the medieval restrictions of the Catholic Church. I am often appalled at the sheer disregard and disrespect for these standards that the Americans show. Because the Filippino is considered “different” or “primitive” the average soldier thinks he must also be promiscuous. Undoubtedly the barriers against promiscuity have been broken down more by the Japs and our soldiers than a thousand years of normal social progress. Whether this is regrettable or not is beside the point. But it is often tragic in its implications. I was telling you that in the little space of time I had been in the Philippines I had heard many soldiers call out to any girl on the street. The word used is “pom-pom,” which means prostitute, prostitution or a much plainer four-lettered Anglo-Saxon word. I thought at first the word was indigenous, but later learned a tragic miscarriage of the American way of life.

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One bewildered Filippino once naively asked me if there was any “pom-pom” back in the states. I told him of course, it is everywhere. In regard to the physical condition of the natives, I can corroborate the expression of the soldier you met at the picnic. I do not think they have suffered from under-nourishment, but perhaps somewhat from malnutrition. They apparently have had enough to eat, even during the Japanese occupation. I have seen none who look as though they have been willfully starved. But about the Japanese stupidities I will write sometime later[.] (God, I don’t mean the Japs were stupid not to starve the people. It is apparent that their philosophy and practice of Asiatic domination was poorly organized and administered with enormous stupidity.) . . . Your loving husband, Frank.

★★★

FRD-CDD, 19 June 1945, Somewhere on Luzon, Philippines My darling, . . . I got your letter from Pine Bluff today. The delay of mail you speak of I cannot account for. I suppose the letters are bunching up on you. I have written every day except once since I came to the Fighter Control Squadron. Your letters are coming regularly now. When I wrote you about that UNRRA application, I constantly wondered what your reaction would be. I must confess I sometimes feared you would be disappointed because of the inevitability of being separated again even in civilian life. But I, too, had that same hope that somehow you and Sally Lou could join me in Europe if ever I got the job. I figure even a year or so separation as a civilian in my own profession would be better than such separation in the Army of Occupation, which I fear is a distinct possibility. I only wish something would develop. I can’t wait to hear from Washington, even though I don’t really expect favorable news. We had been given specific instruction and permission to write home about having been to Manila on pass and that is the reason there was no censorship. There was no violation whatsoever. I can also tell you now that port we were in was Finschaven, New Guinea. . . .

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Your interest in sewing amazes me. I’m sure one can get a lot of satisfaction out of it. When you finish your dress you’ll have to send me a picture of you in it. Darling, I don’t want you to feel so badly when you miss a day writing to me. . . . Remember, your letters usually bunch up in twos or threes by the time they arrive here, so it may not mean I’ll exactly miss a letter, if you get what I mean. . . . You asked about the Jap money. It’s everywhere here. One of my first experiences when I landed was to have children with fistsful of the stuff run up to us and sell it. They knew we were suckers who didn’t yet realize you could pick the stuff up free almost everywhere. Souvenir hats made of the bills are on the market now—hideous looking things. . . . The last two days have been extraordinarily hot. Yesterday for some reason our water was cut off and we couldn’t even get relief in a shower. But shortly after dusk a terrific rainstorm developed. Milligan and I stripped and went out into the rain for our shower. At first it felt almost like ice-water hitting us. It was tremendously refreshing. I believe we’re going to have another hard shower tonight. It’s wonderful to go to sleep in the tent with the rain hammering a loud staccato on the canvas. . . . And all my love Your Frank

★★★

FRD-CDD, 23 June 1945, Somewhere in Luzon, Philippines [Editor’s note: For the code used in this letter, see FRD-CDD, 26 March 1945. In this letter, the first paragraph communicates Frank’s location on Luzon: “Angeles.”] Dearest Darling, I borrowed a sheet of “stationary” from Bishop so now I don’t have to trek over to the good Red Cross lady to get paper. I always forget to bring back some. Yesterday evening

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I failed to leave my letters in the mail drop. To explain the truth (I may as well confess) I never even scribbled a letter off to you. [Emphasis added] I had gone to the movie with the boys in my tent (Special G.I., V.D. Movie) and after the show we stopped in a Café for a bottle of rum and coffee. George declined to go along, so as Ernie and Bud (that’s Weal) and I sat chatting, I suddenly discovered that I had your letter and the one to Gert and Lou in my shirt pocket. I had written them the night before but never posted them. We chatted so long in the café I never did get back to write you. I suppose you have a suspicion as to why I forgot to mail those letters. It was the demon rum. Last night I only allowed myself to take a few swallows, but the night before with Ernie I got plastered again. It must sound as though I’m becoming a chronic inebriate. I’m not. It’s just that my system has been denied any liquor for such a long time, I can scarcely take two drinks without blowing my top. It’s fun while it lasts, except the day after, of course. This is Saturday night. Tomorrow I’m going to go fishing with my Filippino friends again—that is, if it doesn’t rain. I still don’t have that loaf of bread. Oh well, we’ll eat the fish breadless, I guess. . . . I’m going to close now and go off to a movie again. No rum tonight. All my love, my darlings. I wish you were here with me. How would you like living in a tent? Always your loving husband Frank.

★★★

FRD-CDD, 25 June 1945, Somewhere on Luzon, Philippines My darling, When I went to mess this morning I suddenly heard my name called out in a loud voice. When I turned, whom should I see but Steve Armstrong, exTomahite, ex-Truax Fielder. He had come to our squadron Sunday alone, after he had left Baker and Stout at the Replacement Center. Armstrong is a fellow of considerable merits. He was formerly a law student but now believes he will abandon law. He has become engrossed in Sociology, so you see, he’s

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a chap who has some common interests with me. He brought with him a miniature library including a compendium of Sociological thought, Essays of Montaigne, a good dictionary and other works. Today, Steve moved into our tent and this evening we walked downtown to show Steve the sights. The marketplace impressed him as it does any visitor. I also took him to Vlademir’s home so he could see a typical Filippino dwelling. I consider it a good stroke of luck that Steve landed here, especially instead of Baker. I got three letters today—one a V-Mail from Al, another a letter from Rudy who is in Okinawa and a card from Tozer who is in California.38 I had written both Rudy and Tozer from the Philippines but both their letters indicated they had written before they had received mine. My last letter to Al was written on my way over here. He wanted to advise me primarily of the opportunities with U.N.R.R.A. But as I was saying in yesterday’s letter, back at the bamboo house we found our dinner almost ready to be served. In the meantime, I had gone upstairs into the house proper where our hostess wanted me to see her photo albums. She was a widow[,] 28 years old, already glorying in her past. The women age quite young here. So I sat oh-ing and ah-ing over ancient pictures till I couldn’t find any more exclamations or adjectives. The call to dinner rescued me. Dinner was served on a table in the kitchen on the ground level. All the houses here are on stilts and you enter by means of a wide bamboo ladder. This home had the ladder ascending from the kitchen to the rooms above. The practice of the culinary art is very simple among the Filippinos. The “stove” consisted of a couple large earthenware pots on a bamboo table. Charcoal or bamboo is burned in the pots and the pan for cooking is placed across three large projections that extend from the inside of the large earthenware vessel. Our meal consisted of rice, fish both boiled and fried, tiny native tomatoes, and a papaya melon. The rice was heaped on a large banana leaf in the middle of the table and the fish was in a couple half cocoanut shells. My hosts, realizing the American method of eating, had provided me with a plate, spoon and fork. The rest all ate with their hands from the center of the table. When I saw them eating that way, I abandoned my fork and spoon and began balling my rice in my fingers and eating native fashion. My act was a sensation and they talked and kidded about it long afterwards. When I began eating my fish I discovered to my horror that both the fried and boiled pisces [fish in Spanish] had been cooked with their heads on and their guts still in them. The only preparation the fish had suffered was their scales had been removed, thank God! Did I eat the fish? Well, several things went rapidly thru my mind for a second. First, that old Steffanson observation that has rescued me thru similar situations and secondly, I found the rational-

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ization that we Americans eat sardines and oysters cooked under similar conditions. So I picked the meat off the fish and ate. More than that, I cracked open the head and ate the brain which the Filippinos considered a delicacy and even some elongated thing of its viscera which I think was the liver. This, too, was pointed out as a delicious morsel. Dinner over, we talked for awhile, then I walked back to town with my friends because one of them wanted me to meet his sister. So I sat chatting again for another hour in a Filippino home before I finally had to go so I could get back in time for my beer issue. All this tells the story but briefly and inadequately. I have given you no inkling of the Filippino curiosity in regard to America. They almost devour any picture you show them, and many a Filippino has admired my photographs of you and Sally Lou. They are always courteous and friendly as you have already gathered. It is their utter simplicity that I like, for simplicity in living is just as much a virtue as simplicity in art. I’ll have to close. All the other boys are in bed and I’m keeping the light on with a guilty conscience. The boys think I’m going native like Lucia Gardner used to accuse me of becoming a Navajo.39 Again hurried and inadequate expressions of love, darling but nonetheless meaningful and heart-felt. Good night and sweet kisses to both of you. Love

Frank.

★★★

FRD-CDD, 27 June 1945, Somewhere on Luzon, Philippines My darling, You asked about my work here in a recent letter. I know I hadn’t told you much because of security and censorship. However, I guess there are a few more things I could say without making any violations. I’m on a regular shift from eight in the morning till four in the afternoon. I am doing maintenance on radio equipment and my work so far has been almost exclusively with the transmitter I learned so thoroly [sic] at Tomah. I, of course, asked for this type of work and fortunately the squadron needed a transmitter man. I am happy

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to be doing this, for it is one thing I can do with confidence. I have been repairing, re-conditioning, pampering and coddling this one type of equipment. I feel it puts me in a rather good position and I like the work. I am usually on my own; left to my own devices, and when someone else endeavors to help me I feel discontented for he does not approach the subject with the same awe and reverence; consequently, the transmitter suffers not so much physically perhaps but more in its self respect because some particles of dust are left in it or a tiny bolt is missing. I am amazed that you read no news of fighting in the Philippines. I realize the battles here wouldn’t reach the front pages, but certainly it should be on the inner pages. Were you looking on the Society Page? Yes, there is considerable fighting in certain isolated portions of these islands, although there is none in the vicinity of my locality. We do see Japs brought in occasionally as prisoners. Sometimes they wander in or near town to give themselves up. They are usually practically starved. But definitely there are American lives being lost in the battle zones. There is little liklihood that I’ll even come close to the war zone. I have seen no combat whatsoever although our squadron is naturally active[ly] supporting combat. . . . I’m writing on a fancy mahogany plank table in the tent. Steve erected it this morning and is highly pleased with his accomplishment. So am I, for that matter, but I had to warn him he was falling in love with his masterpiece, the way he talked about it. This is a typical tropical scene—the tent, mosquito-netted cots, Steve and I sitting at the table writing and a bottle of rum between us. We were each issued a bottle of rum through the PX for four pesos. Thats three less pesos than we had been paying at the café. I’ve been sipping my rum as I’ve been writing. Milligan, Bishop and Weal are sitting or lying on their cots gabbing with the same B.S’er from an adjacent tent. He told us tonight he was offered the Purple Heart but refused it! I’m going to drop Al a line now before too much rum begins taking effect, so I’ll close now, sweetheart. [A]ll my love forever and ever. I miss both of you terribly[.] Your loving husband

Frank.

★★★

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FRD-AGD, 27 June 1945, Somewhere on Luzon, Philippines Dear Al, It seems strange I should write so many letters (mostly to Chris, I’ll admit) and neglect my brother and a twin brother at that! I was all the time conscious of that inadequate letter I had written you en route, and solemnly awaited an answer even though I realized you had the wrong address. There is so much I should tell you, but I know I couldn’t cover it in ten or twenty letters, so you’ll have to be content with but hazy and haphazard impressions. I’m writing at a mahogany plank table in my tent. Steve, a tent mate and ex-law student now vitally interested in Sociology and Social Work, erected the table this morning. He’s very proud of it, and I do find it convenient although I admit I’ve been too damn lazy to provide myself with such conveniences. Steve is a former friend from Tomah and he just arrived in our Squadron a couple of days ago. I was awfully glad to see him. It was a neat stroke of luck that brought him here—lucky for me, I mean. Steve is sitting beside me at the other end of the table writing. Between us is a bottle of rum we’ve been sipping at. This is a typical tropical set-up—the tent, the rum, the mosquito-netted cots and the other tent mates sitting around gabbing. But this isn’t getting much at my overseas impressions. The war and my coming overseas has erased the last vestiges of provincialism from me. Even my beloved New Mexico goes before the wind. I love the islands, their people, and the climate. In fact, I’d be willing to settle down right here were Chris and Sally Lou with me. I have no sentimentality about going back to the States. In fact, there is much in the American scene I’d rather avoid. The Filippinos are a quite friendly people. Two Sundays ago I met two Filippino fellows fishing with spears. They swam underwater in the river and actually speared the fish. Their technique intrigued me so much I followed them for hours and finally one offered me his spear and I tried my luck. Of course I caught nothing, but it was fun. The following Sunday I again joined them, and this time they were prepared to have a fish fry and picnic. So we fished several hours, then went up to a typical bamboo home along the river and the Filippinos prepared the meal. It was a dinner of rice and fish, the latter fried or boiled. When I sat down to eat, I discovered the fish had been cooked with their heads on and guts in! But I ate the meat off and relished it. The Filippinos ate from a huge heap of rice on a banana leaf in the middle of the table. Their hands were their eating utensils. But they had considerately

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provided me with a plate, spoon and fork. I ate with my hands anyway, much to the delight and amusement of my dark-skinned friends. That’s only half the story, but I must skim over things. I was down to Manila once on a pass, and I was totally unprepared for what I saw. The city everywhere was a shambles. Such destruction and devastation is inconceivable unless one actually sees it. Huge buildings were nothing but rubble, and the sorry part of it, the city must have well-deserved the title Pearl of the Orient. It must have had a far more modern appearance than most eastern American cities. Ultra modern buildings were just shells, but there was sufficiently [enough] left to form an imaginative picture of the originals. Of course, these things are insignificant to the human suffering and social upsets the ruined buildings symbolize. But the Filippino people are carrying on with a remarkable will. I do admire them. I only wish they would be admitted into the Union as a State instead of becoming independent, and I find many Filippinos agree with me. You asked about correspondence with the United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration. My first mail on the islands brought me an application for a job! Had I been in Madison only a couple of days more, I would have received the application there! I figure my chances for discharge overseas are far slimmer. However, I did send in the application, but a little later I got a letter from AASW40 stating that the Army was only discharging men for UNRRA work who are 34 or over. Wrong age at the right time. Right now I’m sweating out a reply from UNRRA. I’d love to get work in Germany. Did you ever get my Spengler book I sent you so long ago?41 I did want you to read it. It’s most excellent. As for my present reading habits, I’ve been still hot for Joseph Conrad. Just read his Victory which I consider his best of those I’ve read. Am reading The Nature of the World and Man, edited by Newman.42 It’s mostly a nostalgic review of my Zoology, Evolution and Genetics courses at Pitt. Gert wrote me that you had sent Barry recordings of Macbeth. A wonderful gift, ol’ man. Barry is an excellent lad. Every time I go home he seems to be developing more and more wonderfully. You know, Chris met the LED’s for the first time when we went to Pgh. a couple months ago. We had two perfect evenings at their place. This is all, I’m through! etc.

Frank.

★★★

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Parents: Frank A. Dietrich and Louise E. Dietrich. Courtesy Frank and Christine Dietrich.

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Frank, Albert, and their older sister, Grace Dietrich, c. 1920. Courtesy Frank and Christine Dietrich.

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Twins at Lake Chautauqua, c. 1928. Courtesy Frank and Christine Dietrich.

Above: Frank and Christine, wedding day, 14 May 1943. Right: Frank and Christine, Tomah, Wisc., Christmas 1943. Courtesy Frank and Christine Dietrich.

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Left: Frank, Tomah, Wisc., 1944. Below: Frank Dietrich and Ed Dobroski,Victory Day in Tarlac, Philippines, 23 August 1945. Courtesy Frank and Christine Dietrich.

Sally Lou at six months, 1944. Courtesy Frank and Christine Dietrich.

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Twins at Albert’s home, Harborside, Maine, 1983. Courtesy Frank and Christine Dietrich.

Albert, Frank (in cap), and Chris on “Family Fling,” 1983. Courtesy Frank and Christine Dietrich.

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First issue of Pacifica Views (1943–47), a weekly forum for radical COs in CPS, published by COs at the Glendora, Calif., CPS camp. Courtesy Swarthmore College Peace Collection.

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First page of Albert’s Form 47.

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COs assembling outhouses at Mulberry, Fla. (CPS camp #27). Courtesy Mennonite Church USA Archives, Newton, Kansas.

Entrance to CPS camp #57 at Hill City, S.D. Under joint supervision by CPS and the Bureau of Reclamation, COs built Deerfield Dam— a “monument to peace”—to provide water for Rapid City and the valley below. From the Voice of Peace (1946), copy in Swarthmore College Peace Collection, published under the administration of the Mennonite Central Committee.

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William Yoder on sanitation survey, Mulberry, Fla. (CPS Camp #27). Courtesy Mennonite Church USA Archives, North Newton, Kansas.

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COs building a dam at Denison, Iowa (CPS camp #18). Courtesy Mennonite Church USA Archives, North Newton, Kansas.

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War-devastated Manila; fires continue to burn. Courtesy National Archives.

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En route to the Philippines, Frank sent this V-mail letter to Albert. Note the censor’s stamp. Courtesy Swarthmore College Peace Collection.

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In this rare note of discord between the twins, Albert explains why he has not been writing regularly. He also confides that, while at Denison, Iowa, where he provided emergency farm labor for wealthy farmers, he had been dissatisfied with his work assignment—and with CPS. Courtesy Swarthmore College Peace Collection.

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In an amphibious crossing over the Pasig River, the 129th Infantry assaults Intramuros. Courtesy National Archives.

U.S. tanks move through Plaza de Espana, within Intramuros, to attack entrenched Japanese. Courtesy National Archives.

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U.S. Army flyer, Manila, 1945. Courtesy Frank and Christine Dietrich.

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Frank’s honorable discharge.

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FRD-CDD, 29? June 1945, [Somewhere on Luzon, Philippines] . . . [First page missing] You speak of the evils of war offering peculiar opportunities. It is odd what values one gains. Most of them are of a negative nature, eye-openers, so to speak. As Conrad said in his Heart of Darkness, “Droll thing this life is—that mysterious arrangement of merciless logic for a futile purpose; the most one can get out of it is an understanding of oneself— that comes too late, a crop of inextinguishable regrets.” These things I have seen and experiences I have been describing are in themselves of little or no value. It is their meaning to me personally which has had a profound effect on my pre-conceived notions and on my philosophy of life. I see now that my trip to Germany back in 1935 was almost valueless. I lacked a broader base of experience with which to properly interpret my observations. Capt. Schwarz’s comment43 on the German P.W’s44 and his interpretations are interesting. However, I am inclined to disagree with some of his interpretations. The fact that the group got together and returned the money that wasn’t honestly theirs is highly commendable. If these men were not wearing the stigma of P.W. and a former enemy, I doubt that Capt. Schwarz would have interpreted the maneuver as a symptom of totalitarianism. There is no question that the event was a far cry from the individualism of Americans. I can’t conceive of a group of American soldiers doing the same thing. I’ll grant you that individualism, a little rugged as Hoover put it, has been the making of America, but alas I fear it is out-moded.45 Certainly it will never stand the test in international relations. Laissez faire is dead. Nevertheless, I agree with Schwartz that we must not fraternize with the Germans (although I admit I’d be the first to succumb to the temptation) and it is undoubtedly true that many want to return to the Reich with the hope of eventually re-arming. Frankly, I think there is scarcely a remote chance of this ever happening either in Germany or defeated Japan. I believe men in Washington are holding up this possibility as a bug-a-boo. I have no objection to the bug-a-boo, for it is good propaganda. It will prevent the Americans from making the same mistake they made following the last war—that of sticking our heads in the sand like an ostrich. In truth, I think we have more to fear as to what rôle America will play in the post-war world than the possibility of our former enemies re-arming. America has stepped across the threshhold into world politics as a major power. Will we retreat in peacetime and suffer a debacle as disastrous as a military retreat can be? There is no question that there will be a new alignment of world powers. The significance of Germany’s or Japan’s position will be relatively minor. Each will fall in one or another camp but will be incapable of being a major force alone.

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The trend in Europe from what little news I get is inexorably to the left. The Balkans will become Communist, France will swing Socialist or possibly Communist; even England seems ready to plunge into a gigantic program of socialization. These are cold facts and whether we like it or not will not change the course of events. Germany will of necessity fall into the camp of the leftish trend. How can she revert to capitalism when she scarcely has any capital goods to even make a new start? The big question mark, then, is America. What course will we steer? If we follow the course the Chicago Tribune would have us follow, we would find ourselves in juxtaposition to Russia, the whole of Europe (probably even Spain because of French pressure) and England.46 Following a reactionary bloc with America would be South America, and probably Japan. China’s position, in my mind, is still subject to considerable conjecture and could most likely throw the balance of power. The prospects of such an alignment look quite distasteful to me. Our other course is to fall into the trend away from reaction. This is obviously more difficult. It does not mean that we should become Communist or even Socialist, but we should at least purge ourselves of the fear of social change. The elimination of such a fear has been one of the greatest contributions of Roosevelt and his administration. But the fear is still latent in many an American’s heart—especially the powerful industrialists. Even a child could see that America in the rôle of a progressive nation, cooperating with the inevitable changes in Europe can become one of the most potent forces toward a lasting peace. To my mind, this alone can be America’s great future. As things stand now, the United States is holding its breath until the military battles are won. After that, we must make the decision. I didn’t realize I was going to launch on a lengthy discourse in international relations. These things have been bothering me for some time. Give my congratulations to Sally Lou for her progress in walking. Every letter you send is a great joy, for I see our little daughter growing and changing in almost minute details. Last night I went to sleep thinking about our Madison apartment and our short but wonderful time together there. I love you always more and more, dearest, and am only waiting for the day when we’ll be together again. Kisses to both of you[.] Forever your own Frank. ★★★

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FRD-CDD, 2 July 1945, Somewhere on Luzon [Angeles City], Philippines My darling, . . . The weather on the whole has been delightful with a few exceptions like today when it has been almost suffocatingly hot and sultry. Four of us lay on our cots this afternoon sleeping away the day. It seemed almost impossible to stir. The small snapshot of the kids sitting in and around the wagon is the cutest yet. Sally Lou again looks as glum as Grumpy. I take it she isn’t always that way from your detailed descriptions of her activities. This last picture will be extremely interesting to my Filipino friends. They examine a photograph from America minutely, absorbing every detail. They are interested in contrasting their lives and environment with ours and the photograph seems to offer them tangible verifications of the differences. The clothing of the children, the play wagon and the trim lawns and shrubbery make an attractive composition. News that I get over here is indeed scanty. I hadn’t heard of Tokyo announcing the meeting of a committee for a 20 year war.47 Such a committee is obviously propaganda. It is probable that the Japs are placing their only hope on a breakdown of morale in America. It is too obvious that their military situation is hopeless. Undoubtedly, the fanatic resistance on Okinawa was to inflict such severe casualties that the Congressmen and folks home will not consider the war worth the sacrifice.48 Naturally, they are deluding themselves. When all the figures for Okinawa are released, my guess is that the losses will be staggering for such a comparatively small piece of land. Yet I am still convinced of the wisdom of unconditional surrender although such a policy obviously drags out the war. The general opinion among most of the soldiers here is that it will last 18 to 24 months. Armstrong is an exception, but he has just arrived and is gradually seeing the viewpoints of these long-time overseas men. The Filipinos, on the other hand are almost universally optimistic about a quick and early end of the war. Their viewpoint is limited by their own experience. They saw the Americans arrive on their own islands in such overwhelming superiority in men, equipment and organization that they fail to realize as we penetrate into the Japanese home islands themselves, the going will become increasingly tougher. As for me personally, I suffered not the slightest wave of optimism on V-E Day. I was glad, of course, that the affair in Europe was finished, at least as far as fighting goes, but like most of my fellow soldiers, I hoped for little aid

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from European comrades because I felt they already had done their share. Released equipment will help over here, but that takes a long time to reorganize, re-condition and ship. Some soldiers will be transferred here from the European front. If our strategy becomes bombing to save lives in preference to invading island after island, the war will drag on and on. I suppose a combination of the two will be employed. Who knows? All we can do is wait and hope and pray. . . . Your loving husband

Frank . . .

★★★

FRD-CDD, 10 July 1945, Somewhere on Luzon [Angeles City], Philippines My darling, . . . I bought a hand made metal watch band from a G.I. this morning. . . . My watch was literally falling off my wrist. . . . The band is made out of Australian coins, hammered and cut into large links. . . . It is not an ugly souvenir piece. I hate souvenirs and regretted sending you that purse with “Philippines” written across it. My detestation of souvenirs makes it almost impossible for me to purchase trinkets and things to send home, hence the utter dearth of packages from me. . . . Love as always,

Your Frank

P.S.—I rarely proof-read my letters. I’ll have to depend on you to fill the gaps, correct the grammar, etc.

★★★

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CDD-FRD, 11 July 1945, [Altheimer, Arkansas] My darling, Today I received two letters from you—the one written July 2 arrived this & the one of July 1 at noon. (Your letter of July 3 came yesterday!) You are very definitely wrong in saying you suppose I have noticed a deterioration in your letter writing. On the contrary, they seem to grow more and more interesting—and always more and more welcome. There’s no doubt in my mind that my letters are atrocious. Honestly, if I didn’t have Sally Lou I know that I’d soon wither & die for lack of stimulus. There’s just no one here whom I can really enjoy—Noni [Meyer] is an exception, but she falls short in some respects.49 Oh, I don’t mean I never enjoy the companionship of anyone else. It’s just that I can’t take it in too big doses. Furthermore I have little time for doing much else besides taking care of and enjoying Sally Lou. After she’s asleep at night I spend the few hours left ’til my bedtime reading, practicing, and writing letters. And I always jump at the chance to play bridge or go to a movie when anyone asks. But what I started to say was, that my activities are not stimuli for letter writing. I ramble to you, just as I would if I were talking to you. And whether my letters do you any good or not, they do me good. I feel closer to you. No, darling, Sally Lou isn’t always as “glum as Grumpy” as you put it— although I don’t blame you for thinking so, for certainly her pictures show her that way. And really, I think she does smile less than average when she’s among strangers. She is full of smiles and laughs at home with the family, but she has to “warm up” to strangers—although she never hesitates to go to anyone. Your fishing expeditions and visits with Alberto, Celio, etc., etc., make me “green with envy,” too. I’m not sure I’d like spearing or dynamiting the fish— I’m afraid someone might take me for a fish—but I would love the dinners & visits in the homes—fish-heads and all, I think. You said you had no idea Niemöller had been liberated.50 I regret so much that I didn’t save the edition of Time (shortly after Germany’s surrender), which contained the write-up. Niemöller admitted to having offered to serve in Nazi-Germany’s army or navy, although he never failed to voice his antiNazi ideas. He gave his reason for offering to fight as that he wanted to prove there are many good Germans. I don’t know how he could prove such by fighting for a cause in which he did not believe—but as you say, it is fortunate he has lived through and can continue his ministry. Do you remember [Chaplain] Stipek’s saying he was confident Niemöller would be unharmed? A.M.,

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He gave his reason as being that Niemöller was too muchly loved by the German people—that it would be dangerous to Nazism to persecute him. I wonder if Stipek has written him since his liberation. You know they had corresponded right up to the time of Niemöller’s internment. Perhaps you haven’t heard of the guard at a PW camp in Utah who went “berserk,” and shot & killed eight German prisoners, with a machine gun.51 That, I think, is a very unhappy thing. The guard had spent sometime overseas. I wonder what will be told in Germany. Sally Lou had a hard time getting to sleep tonight. It was 8:00 when she finally hushed her crying. At that I’d picked her up & given her 4 oz. of a bottle. She may have been hungry—’though try as I may, I can’t understand why she cries every single night. She’s so good & sweet all day long, never minds being put down for naps, but resents bed for the night. She’s so sweet giving me things. When she has a toy & I say, “Give that to Mommy,” she’ll put it in my hand, but takes it right back. Today she looks at the right pictures when I say “Where’s Ralph?” or “Where’s Dick?” No doubt she’ll kiss your picture “goodnight” when you come home. I’m pow’ful sleepy—& I’ve a big ironing ahead of me tomorrow. All Sally Lou’s clothes need to be done, & I want to get her tiny baby things ready to lend Martha Mae. So I’ll say good night and sweet dreams my darling, although it isn’t your bedtime. I’ll put myself to sleep thinking of all the things we’ll do when you come home. I’m always loving you with all my heart & soul. And Sally Lou sends kisses & hugs to her daddy. Your own Chris

★★★

FRD-CDD, 20 July 1945, Somewhere on Luzon [Angeles City], Philippines My darling, It wasn’t until yesterday I realized I had passed my three year mark in the Army. Last Tuesday should have called for some celebration, but it completely

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slipped my mind. It was a stormy, rainy evening anyway, so it’s probable I wouldn’t have celebrated at all. But at least I could have appreciated the storm as a symbol of the past three years. I am now entitled to wear one hash mark. Lord forbid another! In addition, I’ll have 5% added to my pay—the grand total of $3.90.52 Let’s call it 7.80 pesos; it looks better. . . . . . . I’m glad my letters are coming through so well. The delivery time on them is remarkable and it is apparent that I am getting the best service this way. Your letters rarely bunch up more than two at a time anymore, and often I pull one letter a day for several days. An exchange of letters is now taking only 18 to 20 days. It’s fast considering the distance, although often your comments on something I had written seems to be an observation on something remote after almost three weeks have passed. I suppose you experience the same. . . . I suppose Ralph is caught in the merry-go-round of technical schools like I was. It’s amazing how one can adjust to that sort of thing, although as Steve and I were saying tonight, we got practically nothing out of it. True, we became familiar with certain types of radio sets and can fuss around them with some degree of efficiency, but of what value can that be to us? At Truax I completely lost the incentive to mess around radio in civilian life as a “ham.” I can see no good in it whatsoever for me. It would be expensive both in time and money. I’d rather read Shopenhauer [sic] or play with Sally Mae. I don’t know how Ralph feels about his schooling at this point, but I suspect he’ll find it will have as negligible a value in his case as it has had in mine. This brings me to the question frequently at issue before Congress now, viz., that of compulsory military training in peace time.53 I can discover no valid arguements for the bill. The Army discourages initiative and leadership by teaching blind obedience, yet these two points are frequently expounded by proponents of the bill. The idea of learning a trade or skill in the Army is preposterous, especially in a year’s conscription. I’ll admit the possibility that the health of the nation might be improved, but it seems an enormously expensive and uneconomic way to cope with this problem. In spite of valid arguements against the bill, I am convinced it will eventually pass. In fact, the G.I’s themselves will pass it. It is my contention that the Army should be made attractive enough in peace times to build itself to the desired strength by volunteers alone. Poor old Manty [my pet praying mantis] is gone. I took her for a walk and airing this afternoon and tied her to a frond of a banana tree. Somehow, she eluded captivity. When I went back to get her she was gone, string and all. You know, she was quite a large animal, about four inches long.

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But Manty didn’t leave without giving us a reward. When I came off duty this morning I met George who told me with considerable excitement that something strange had happened to Manty. My first thought was that she had died; perhaps killed by some other insect she had caught. When I got back to the tent I was shown the marvel. Manty had spun a huge “nest” like a spherical chrysalis in which I suspect she must have deposited a million eggs. The “nest” is glued to our tent pole and looks like a miniature hornets’ nest. I only wish I had been present to see her perform her miracle. Only George and Steve saw it, so I had to satisfy my curiosity from their descriptions. Or rather from George’s. Steve is slightly removed from making biological observations. George and I were quite excited. In fact I still am. I can watch insects by the hour and never tire. I suppose it was my Zoological training that has sharpened my interest in this to the same degree the average man finds interest watching a steam shovel. Like all insects, I suppose our young mantises will have to go through the normal metamorphosis. So soon I suspect we’ll have about a half million “worms” crawling around. I think the boys suspect full-fledged praying mantises will hatch. I don’t want to discourage them with the prospect of having a mess of larvae in our bedroom, so what they don’t know won’t hurt them. When the larvae hatch, I’ll have to put them in a box, try to discover what they eat, feed them till they go into the pupa stage, then we’ll have all the progeny of old Manty when they emerge from their pupae. It will be an interesting lifecycle to watch. I only wish old Manty could be with us. It’s ten o’clock so I’ll have to get the light out. George has already been in bed an hour. Steve and Weal just returned from the Mango Grove Café. . . . All my love Frank

★★★

FRD-CDD, 25 July 1945, Somewhere on Luzon [Angeles City], Philippines My dearest, Although I was expecting a heap of letters from you today, I was just as happy to get one. . . . You said you had missed writing me the day previous, but there are still a couple letters I haven’t received.

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But darling, you mustn’t feel obligated to write every single day, especially when there is such an opportunity as seeing “A Song to Remember.”54 Besides, the nostalgia or “homesickness” for me as you put it, may often be worth the procrastination. I find it is so with me. There is a pleasure in the pain of melancholy that comes over one when the thoughts of home or loved ones lay heavy. . . . I think Sally Lou will be just about saying a word by the time this letter arrives. I suspect it will be “bye-bye” or “mamma.” You write as though she were already a little lady. It’s hard for me to conceive that she’s so different, that she’s so grown and doing so much. I love her more for each thing you tell me she does. I spent another lazy day today. I doubt that Ed will come over this evening. He thinks he will be kept busy in his outfit for some time to come. Last night Steve, Ed and I sat in a Café bull-sessioning for hours. I have been reading a book of poems Ed left with me. The book is titled “Poetica Erotica” edited by T.R. Smith.55 It contains some of the greats and the lesser greats together with a host of anonymous poems from the Elizabethan era. As the name suggests, almost all the works are highly sensual and the reading of them excites one’s passions considerably. I suppose you know how awkward that makes a man. We also had a V.D. inspection today. Here is the first stanza of a poem I selected for you. I’ll quote the other stanzas in succeeding letters until you have the whole poem. It’s title is “To Have and To Hold[,]” an anonymous poem from The Point of View, apparently from a 20th Century poet: . . . Goodnight, my darling. I wish I could be with you to have and to hold and to kiss you. All my love to Sally Lou. Always your own Frank

★★★

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FRD-CDD, 26 July 1945, Somewhere on Luzon [Angeles City], Philippines My dearest, I had gone to the movie against my better judgement to see “Son of Lassie.”56 I was forced to walk out after the first two reels, much to Bishop’s consternation. Our theater gets so hot and stuffy that only the very best picture could hold me in my seat. Under such a circumstance, I’m sure I’d be able to sit through the whole showing of “Gone With the Wind.”57 But these mediocre pictures are simply not worth the agony, let alone the loss of time. “The Son of Lassie” was in technicolor, had some beautiful scenic shots and included some of Grieg’s music, all of which you would think could hold me to my chair.58 Impossible! The acting, except for the dogs, was exceedingly poor and it was the same story I have seen a hundred times—a chase with the Nazis and the German brutality. The thing is portrayed in such an inane way, I wonder that people swallow it all. In sharp contrast to the six-year[-old] level of the feature film was a news short showing some of the aspects of the occupation of Germany. There were some horror shots of various Nazi prison camps and mass crematories. Here was the true aspect of the Nazi character shown in the most brutal and stark realities. I’m wondering if these have been shown in the States. While I shouldn’t think children should see them, certainly they show an aspect of war that every adult should reflect upon. The lesson is the danger in placing blind faith in a rabble-rousing leader. I read in tonight’s news that these films had been shown to Göring,59 Ley,60 Julius Streicher 61 (whom I heard give a lecture at the University of Munich to a packed house of teachers!) and other Nazi “big-wigs.” I also like the way in which the Americans are handling the situation. Apparently the masses of the [German] populace were unaware that these things existed. It is obvious that they must have heard tales and rumors of these things, but they must simply have disbelieved. It is a human weakness to believe what one wants to believe, and this so often becomes the stumbling block to progress. It is simply inconceivable that a nation as enlightened as Germany was before the advent of Hitler could support such atrocities. The Americans, as you probably know, are forcing the [German] citizens to go into the Nazi murder factories and view for themselves. In addition they are compelled to dig individual graves for each victim. I believe it was 11,000 graves required in one instance.

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The film showed the civilians, men and women, walking up to the “murder factory.” They were laughing and chatting as they walked past the camera. The change of expression on their faces when they were within the enclosure of the camp was an astounding study. They must not have had any conception of the magnitude of the thing they were to see. The paradox is that it was the citizens of Weimar who were to view these horrors.62 Weimar, which a little over a century ago was the cultural city of the world! Goethe, Schiller, Schopoenhauer, [sic] and a host of other greats, gathered themselves in that little town.63 Yet it was Goethe himself who constantly ridiculed the barbaric manners of his fellow Germans. Little did that genius dream it could go to such an extreme. I received another welcome letter from you today. Your letters are not “atrocious.” They are all I need, all I should want, all I can expect. Every single word is a morsel of courage for me during this long wait. Your story of the guard shooting 8 PW’s was news to me. It is an ugly catastrophe, yet I doubt that the guard can be considered guilty. For the first time, you have told me you have been practicing the piano. I know it is difficult to find much time, but I’m certainly glad you are not entirely neglecting it. What are you playing now? . . . George is in bed and I feel guilty having the light on. I’ll have to close, although I had thought of many more things to say in the course of writing. Here is the second stanza of To Have and to Hold . . . Good night, my sweetest. Though my hours of night are lonely, I go to sleep thinking of you. Always your own

Frank. [P.S.] Kisses for Sally Lou. ★★★

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CDD-FRD, 26 July 1945, Altheimer, Arkansas My Darling, Again I’m out of air-mail stationery, which necessitates the use of the typewriter. I was anxious also to see if the thing would still work at all. I had set it on the cedar chest in the dining room, and Sally Lou’s high chair was right beside the chest. I left her sitting in it one day while I fixed her supper, and when I next looked at her, she was practically standing on her head “fixing the writer.” She had pulled one of the ribbon reels completely out and it looked a mess! I’m all alone tonight—Sally Lou is my body guard. Mother went to Little Rock this afternoon . . . and will bring Father home in the ambulance tomorrow afternoon.64 Dot is in Hot Springs visiting the Clarys who are spending several weeks in a cottage at the lake. Of course I’m not a bit afraid to be alone, although I actually think it’s the very first time I ever stayed all night at home by myself. . . . The world news today, I think, has been bombastic, what with the Labo[u]r party victory in England. It wasn’t exactly a shock, for certainly every indication pointed that way for the past several weeks, but the actual realization of it is almost too much for me to fathom—a Socialistic England! Now what do we do! In my limited study of history, I’ve often wondered how it might have been to have lived at such and such a period of time. Here I am, actually living when the whole world is undergoing the greatest, most drastic changes of all time. At least I feel that it will amount to that before all this is over. If only I could know what would be best, so that I could do my part toward attaining that end; as it is, I only sit and watch and wait, without so much as saying what I think. All I know is that I want a world of peace and freedom for Sally Lou.65 Perhaps the other news of today isn’t so bombastic, but it was encouraging to me, to say the least. Japan talks of quitting war. Undoubtedly there are all kinds of qualifications to her plea for peace, and I do know that we must keep on until we get an unconditional surrender; nevertheless I get the impression that Japan would definitely be interested in peace if the formula could be softened. I had two grand letters from you today, written July 17th and 18th. Darling, if you only knew what your letters mean to me. I simply live from one day to the next with the anticipation of mail from you. You are mighty sweet to quote those beautiful lines from Ben Jonson to me, however, I’m very unworthy of that! I appreciate it more than I can say, though, my dearest.

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Sally Lou shocked me with her intelligence today. I do realize more and more that she knows much more than I give her credit for. Today, without any coaching, while we were sitting on the porch, I put her to a test. I asked, “Where is your play-pen?” Immediately she looked right at it. The same way, she told me she knew her buggy, the truck, my “tick-tick” (watch)—she puts it to her ear—, and when I say, “Where’s Sally Lou,” she covers her face with her dress, a cover or some such thing, and plays “pee-pie.” I think I shall take her to Dr. Reid soon for a check-up. She has not had one in about two months, and I believe she isn’t gaining so well. I’ve been weighing her on the meat scales at the store—they’re fancy electric ones, and according to them, she hasn’t gained an ounce in a month! And she doesn’t look quite as plump as she once did. Of course it’s natural for her gain to be slowing up to some extent, but I do think she should have gained something in a months’s time. I guess we can’t expect her to be fat! Her appetite has been good until these last few beastly hot days, and even then it hasn’t been bad. I rather think she will not have to undergo another operation. Really the place [hemangioma on her forehead] is looking better to me, and others seem to agree. . . . I must roll my hair in pretzels and get to bed. I wish I could have a real sweet happy dream of you tonight. I always dream of you until I go to sleep, sometimes recalling all the happy times we’ve had together, and sometimes thinking of how happy we’ll be when you come home. I too, wonder how that meeting will be—what Sally Lou will say and think of her Daddy—I know she’ll love you—I shan’t coach her—what she does and says will be entirely her own. All my love is yours, my dearest,

Chris P.S. My regards to Manty. ★★★

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FRD-CDD, 27 July 1945, Somewhere on Luzon [Angeles City], Philippines My darling, . . . I’m wondering what the papers back home are saying about the British elections. To my mind it is the most significant event of this century. Political and social observers have long been predicting the British government will swing left, and now it’s done. I think it is an inevitable step. It is practically a revolution and demonstrates how drastic changes can be made in a democracy without the ugly consequences of turmoil, persecution, killings and all the evils that generally attend drastic social and political changes. I only hope our government remains as liberal as the Roosevelt administration. If we don’t, we’ll be out of step with the world. Although I have the greatest respect and admiration for Churchill, I am convinced he had outlived his usefulness in the British government. Nevertheless, there will be no epic in history comparable to the heroism of Churchill, his government and the British people following the dark days of Dunkirk.66 I could go on with this subject indefinitely, but I fear I am forced to bring a hasty close to this letter. I’m sitting under the light in the tent. Bugs are batting me in the face and mosquitoes threaten to eat me up. In addition, I’m weary from today’s activities. Here’s today’s stanza for you and Sally Lou: . . . Good night my darlings. A thousand kisses to both of you. Give my love to the folks and tell Father I’m praying for his speedy recovery. Always your

Frank

★★★

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FRD-CDD, 28 July 1945, Somewhere on Luzon [Angeles City], Philippines My dearest, . . . I think it was only yesterday I had written that Sally Lou would be saying words by the time my letter arrives. Now comes today’s letter telling me she is already saying, bye-bye, da-da, mamma. Our kid is pretty good, eh? Perhaps in her gibberish she is speaking this native dialect. I’m sure it would sound the same to me. . . . . . . I wonder if Al wants his camera. I have only heard from him once and he was still in Iowa. He never did maintain too good a correspondence. . . . Lowell’s reactions are interesting and I think it is the consensus of a good many gi’s.67 Of course, in so many cases, it’s sour grapes, but I don’t think it is or can be in Lowell’s from what you have told me about him. I think since V-E Day old g.i. Joe has become a victim of what Social Psychologists call warweariness psychosis. In fact, just yesterday I read in the news where more refrigeration units and PX supplies are to leave the States for the express purpose of supporting morale, especially for the soldiers who arrive from the European theater. I have visions of ice cream coming! I, too, sometimes become severely critical, and in an unguarded moment I wrote Rudy such a letter that he returned it and told me never to write again unless I take back some of the things I said. Rudy, on the other hand, seems more fanatical in the opposite extreme, and it was because of that that I made my arguments a little (or rather a great deal) too strong. My first reaction to his answer was a fit of rage, but I have cooled down somewhat and see some of his points. Rudy, I fear, will be sadly disillusioned, though. He seems to feel when he gets back in the States he’ll be acclaimed as a hero (he and the rest of the G.I’s, of course). I fear it will be too commonplace for much ado, and indeed I’d just as soon do without a lot of clatter. The success of our victories cannot be measured until we see what the world politicians do with them after the war is over. I only hope there will not be an international political debacle as there was after the last war. So far, there is promise of a good beginning for international cooperation and justice. . . . Always your own—Frank

★★★

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FRD-CDD, 31 July 1945, Somewhere on Luzon [Angeles City], Philippines My darling wife, I promise to write a better letter tonight. At least it will be longer. I’m on duty as a sort of watchman over operating equipment. All I have to do is check the radio sets periodically and keep an ear cocked for the telephones. One of the boys took sick, so I’m taking his place. . . . Lucky Jim Guy!68 A civilian in two months! He must have had a heap of credits piled up. I suspect he had a lot more than the minimum 85. What do they plan to do? Go back to Gallup? I was reading the other day where the Navy established its point system. I didn’t stop to figure out or even approximate how many points Ralph or Dick has, but I surely would think Dick at least has earned enough for a discharge. Ed who has been overseas 20 months has only 67 credits. He looks forward to another year almost, but doesn’t think I’ll have to serve as long overseas as he. News is encouraging from a military standpoint, but the reaction of the Japs to the Big Three Ultimatum looks as though Japan will have to suffer the same devestation and destruction as Germany.69 Even though unconditional surrender demands may prolong the war, I still believe it is a good policy. Steve and Weal here tend to disagree with me (ran out of ink and had to change pens. I’m writing with that old stubby inkograph now. The other pen was a Schaeffer I bought in Manila for 20 pesos)[.] They believe we are now in a position to offer some conditions to Japan that will not jeopardize future policies towards Japan. I should think that the condition of immediate surrender to avoid complete destruction of their homes and industries would be enough. But apparently the Japs are going to fight it out as fanatically as the Germans. I just read a good article in [the] May (I believe) Reader’s Digest by Thomas Mann.70 He is an exiled German as you know, and he describes with horror and pathos the situation Nazidom placed Germany in. He seemed to substantiate what Philip Wylie said about the Germans—that the price of their blind folly will be a perpetual hatred toward them and persecution as the Jews have suffered. I hate to think of a new prejudice arising, but worse still would have been a German victory. . . .

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I’d better shush, as you would say. I wish I could at least call you long distance tonight and hear your voice and Sally Lou’s. It seems so long ago now. Eons have passed since I left you standing at the station. I love you always and forever, darling. Your devoted husband

Frank.

★★★

AGD-FRD, 2 August 1945, Somewhere in Iowa Dear Frank, I’m just as bad as you, if not worse when it comes to writing. Your account of your life on Luzon was extremely interesting. I shared it with many friends here and we all enjoyed it. I, too, would like to live “in the islands” or perhaps somewhere in South America after the war. While you have been befriending the Filippinoes on Luzon, I’ve been befriending the Mexicans here. Several months ago 70 native Mexicans moved in here and encamped in railroad section gang cars near our Camp. I saw some of them one Saturday night up town and bringing back some Spanish from 10 years back said, “Buenos dias, ¿Como esta Usted?” (Good day, how are you?) I was on the main corner downtown and much to my surprise within a few minutes Mexicans were swarming around me. Their faces lighted when they heard an American saying something in their language. About 20 of them gathered around me spouting Spanish like mad. Of course, I was lost after the first few words and could only say, “No comprende” (I do not understand)[.] But I made some friends there and since then I’ve been going regularly to the Mexican camp learning Spanish and teaching English. These Mexicans are working on the Chicago Northwestern R.R. There are some 250,000 of them in the U.S. at the present time to aleviate the critical situation due to the labor shortage.71 I’m enclosing a newspaper clipping of an article I wrote on the Mexicans. Recently—for the past 2 weeks—I have not had many evenings free to see my Mex. friends as I’ve been working. Right now I’m pulling cockle (sp?) burrs in corn at 75¢ per hour. This is some seasonal wk. that comes along here and I thought I’d make a little dough while I could as C.P.S. pays disgustingly little.

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How is Chris and Sally-Lou? I’ve wanted to write to Chris and have had intentions of doing so, but never got to it. Say hello to both of them for me when you write. Have you written to Grace recently? If not, you should immediately. She wrote me a pathetic letter wondering if she was the black sheep of the family now completely cast aside. She says she hears from no one. She has quit her job and has had all her teeth pulled. She does not intend to return to the [Philadelphia] Navy Yard after she gets her new “china wear” but will try to get a job more near home. I’m certain she’s having a very difficult struggle. Not only are there financial difficulties, but one phantasy after another seems to vanish before her eyes and life becomes purposeless and her dreams shattered. Mel is now out of the Merchant Marines and has joined a reputable law firm in Chicago. His lady friends have deserted him but Grace says she does not believe he has learned a lesson. . . .72 We have some full fledged neurotics here at Camp and believe you me, I’ve learned that even the most intellectual of them are to be avoided. While they are oft times intelligent, well read and even highly educated their contribution always seems to be negated by excessively egocentric motives. They are stimulating and interesting from a distance, but I do not like to live near them 24 hours of the day. Give me any day the simple, natural folk whose wants are few and whose motives are frank and honest to these subtle neurotics. It’s late and I’ve got to go to bed. It’s been so hot here some of us have been sleeping outside on the lawn. Do you have a nice tropical sun tan? Write again, will you? Your twin,

Al.

★★★

FRD-CDD, 5 August 1945, Somewhere on Luzon [Angeles City], Philippines My darling, . . . Sometime ago I told you I would write about the apparent stupidity of the Japanese occupation forces. I have thought of this considerably, and yet

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the more inquiries I make among the Filippinos, the more confused I get. Practically all of them will tell you atrocity stories, but only occasionally do you run into a Filipino who admits he had seen the atrocity. I have no doubt that much was committed, but a large part of these were apparently directed against captured Filipino guerillas. But discounting stories of atrocity, that is, physical violence, the Japs seemed to have lacked all wisdom in the application of their “Greater East Asia for Asiatics” policy.73 While there were undoubtedly opportunists and outright collaborationists among the Filipino populace, I believe the Japs alienated a larger proportion of the population by expropriation of private homes without compensation to the families or without even bothering about the problem of housing the evicted Filipinos. The Japs quartered all their soldiers in Filipino homes, according to what the natives tell me. However it is obvious that most of the Filipinos assumed a friendly attitude toward the Japs simply as self-protection. Only when one has known a Filipino quite a while and talked to him at length about these things do you find him willing to admit that there were many tolerable relations between Jap and Filipino. One native told me the young Jap soldiers—boys 14 to 18—were friendly and easy to get along with. An article in Yank about American prisoners held by the Japs describes the tall Korean soldiers as the most abominable and unkindly guards in comparison to the Regular Army Jap guards.74 Unfortunately, the Japs must have been aware of the Korean’s dispositions to torture and abuse our men, and such were therefore assigned as prison guards.75 There were so many factors that would seem to defeat the Japanese intentions to establish friendly relations with the Filipinos. Stifling almost all industry, for one, and failure to establish a stable currency for another. Crops were apparently confiscated in many instances, although the people were by no means left on the verge of starvation as were the Greeks [during the German occupation]. I suppose we won’t know the true situation until after the Japs have been defeated and we have access to their records and viewpoints. . . . My love to my two sweethearts. A million kisses to each. Always your

Frank.

★★★

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CDD-FRD, 5 August 1945, [Altheimer, Arkansas] My darling, . . . Perhaps you & all the other millions of G.I.s overseas would laugh at the current optimism among civilians, but actually all—except Father—that I see & hear give the Japs from three to six more months ’til they surrender. I’m inclined to share the optimism, although I’ll admit my opinions are inconsistent from one week to the next. Even with an early surrender I don’t look for your homecoming for some time afterwards—a year or more—but then there may be UNRRA! Whenever it is that you come home, we’ll be waiting, darling—and loving you more every day. Forever I’m your devoted Chris

★★★

FRD-CDD, 7 August 1945, Somewhere on Luzon [Angeles City], Philippines My darling, I think we can chalk up yesterday as the most significant day in all human history. At least, it is the day that the most important technical development was revealed to mankind. I’m speaking, of course, of the atomic bomb. The news of the release of the gadget over Hiroshima has electrified the whole theater of war over here and I have no doubt the folks back home are experiencing a similar reaction. The potentialities of the bomb are positively staggering. It makes all other technical developments look puny in comparison. Probably the only invention that comes close in magnitude would be the discovery of the principle of the wheel. The implications that the release of such atomic energy can have on homo sapiens is terrifying. It looks to me as though mankind, this day is standing at the very crossroad of his destiny—to choose a path into selfoblivion or reign supreme as the greatest triumph of nature.

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It would be a peculiar paradox of Evolution if man destroyed himself with the very intellect that raises his species above all other forms of life. In such an event, it is probable that the viewpoint of many Entymologists would come true, viz., that insects shall prove to be the Evolutionary triumph of Nature. In the light of the unbelievable destructive force of the atomic bomb, it is easy to picture mankind descending to his doom. In spite of the tremendous lag between technical developments and the Social Sciences, however, I still believe there is hope. But the road will be difficult. I do not think the secrecy of the atomic bomb will remain very many years. Scientists the world over have long known of the terrific energy pent up in the atom. They simply hadn’t devised a practical means of releasing it. But as long as the principle of the release of this energy is secretly owned jointly by the United States and Great Britain, the danger of warfare with such weapons is lessened. The possession of such a weapon in the hands of a single nation could bring complete subjugation and surveilance of the world. Cooperative ownership will force cooperative good will among nations. As Truman pointed out, the United Nations truly won the battle of the laboratories. The atomic bomb in the hands of the Nazis even just a year ago could have easily spelled defeat for the United Nations. There could have been no end of the tyranny that might have been impressed on all peoples over the globe. Of more immediate concern and of far less importance than these other considerations is the effect the atomic bombs will have on ending the war sooner. That the United Nations have whipped Japan is a foregone conclusion, but how much sooner this new development will bring about complete cessation of hostilities is the question of the moment. I suppose you like all of us G.I’s out here are waiting anxiously for news of Japan’s reaction. If this doesn’t show her the writing on the wall, I doubt if even the submergence of her islands into the Pacific would. Certainly she could “save face” now by surrendering; for the other alternative seems to be almost complete and total destruction. I get almost a feeling of “home by Christmas!” as a result of this allied triumph, although I realize that even if Japan capitulated tomorrow only a small percentage of us would be likely to see the States by December. But the hope is certainly more real than ever. I hope the harnessing of this atomic energy can be used for constructive purposes as well as destructive. If the energy can be utilized to serve and benefit mankind, then we have another factor unfavorable to the eclipse and doom of mankind. We are observers to the most historic events of history. I suppose you have thought of all these things and have heard or read innumerable commentators on the importance of this event. But I was anxious to crystallize my own thinking on the matter, and write it all down to you. I haven’t heard or read opinions of social or political observers and am

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anxious to learn what the impact of the revelation was upon them. The topic is on the lips of practically ever[y] G.I. and Steve, Geo[rge] and I have discussed the thing for hours. I hope Sally Lou sees the world develop so that there will never be a necessity to use the atomic bomb as a destructive force against fellow human beings[.] I’ve written of nothing except the thing that’s most on my mind. But I’ll have to quit now, even though I have much more to tell you. I got two excellent letters from you today. Will comment tomorrow. All my love Forever your Frank

★★★

FRD-CDD, 8 August 1945, Somewhere on Luzon [Angeles City], Philippines My dearest, I was in a rare and peculiarly happy mood yesterday, yet my letter indicated nothing of my doings except my thought on the atomic bomb. In the morning, besides getting two letters from you, I got one from Jack Rothweiler and another from Bud Weal. Bud has been in the hospital for two weeks and he dropped a line to have me send some things down. Since by chance, Ed’s camp is located nearby, I decided to go down and see both Ed and Weal. . . . When I got through work at 4:00 o’clock I hung around awhile, hoping to get a shower, but the water never came on. It’s erratic here because of the huge military demands, apparently. So I up and hitch-hiked down to Ed’s camp, took a shower there, and ate supper with him. My visit to Ed’s post is practically my first contact with units outside of the Air Forces (except the Altheimer POW Camp). I was exceedingly impressed with Ed’s set-up and concluded that the Air-Forces are not the Army’s pampered baby as we so often hear. Both the physical set-up and the general esprit de corps of this Ordnance group seemed far superior to any Air Forces Post I had seen. I was astounded. It is difficult for me to exactly analyze what the

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causes of the difference was. It was only my second visit to the outfit, but it was enough to impress me very favorably. Ed and I wandered over to the hospital and sat talking to Weal for an hour or more. Bud is practically better now and is expecting a hospital discharge back to our squadron in a couple days. He had had dysentery. Old Bud was hoping somehow he could get a discharge from the Army with his illness, but he proved too damn healthy and rallied to treatment very favorably. Weal is quite a lad. At the hospital the three of us went to the movie shown for the patients. The film was Jack Oakie in “That’s the Spirit.”76 I enjoyed the silly thing immensely. Either it was a good picture or I was in a manic mood so I could appreciate the trivialities of it. Besides the feature film we saw a new set of G.I. bulletin films on atrocities in Germany. These are the most lugubrious and revolting scenes I’ve ever seen on the screen. They are unbelievable. We saw three huge common graves, each to provide for 15,000 prisoners who died in a concentration camp! The Nazi S.S. Guards were shown removing the naked and half decomposed bodies for proper burial. The allies are forcing them to do this work, and justly. In Buchenwald, I believe it was, the citizenry had to build individual caskets for the victims, then four of them to a casket carried each body exposed for the whole populace to see to a mass funeral at which every citizen was compelled to attend. Freed Polish Slave laborers, all women, stood in a line watching the S.S. men haul bodies away. The women were shouting and shaking their fists hysterically at the Nazis and Ed caught the words (in Polish) “Just wait!” I suppose right now Dick [Dickey] is home with you. It certainly must be wonderful to see him again, and I do hope he has enough points for a discharge. I should think he would have. Too bad Ralph [Dickey Jr.] can’t be home, too. Or is he? I’m glad to hear Father is home, and the story of Willie meeting him is really something.77 You wrote it up so well, that whole letter. . . . I’ll have to get off to bed. It’s been hot today and I’m rather tired. Also, there’s a Bingo game going on here at the Red Cross and the monotonous drone of the caller is about to drive me mad. I can’t see how the guys can survive for hours at a time under the imbecilic repetition. . . . All my love, always and forever, Your Frank.

★★★

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FRD-CDD, 9 August 1945, Somewhere on Luzon [Angeles City], Philippines My dearest, History is taking giant steps almost daily. First the atomic bomb, then Russia’s declaration of war against Japan.78 We have only one more great day to look forward to, and at long last, that day doesn’t seem too far distant. It seems inconceivable that Japan would continue against such overwhelming odds. Germany in her darkest hour never faced such dire consequences as Japan is pondering now. Russia’s entry into the war really came as a surprise to me, although nonetheless welcome. I think I said previously that I thought Russia would abide by her non-aggression commitments, which don’t expire till next year. I have been wondering if the release of the atomic bomb hasn’t hastened her entrance into the war. Certainly the possession of such a weapon by Great Britain and the United States eclipses Russia’s prestige as a great power. Not that she loses her rank as one of the big three, but among the three great powers she suddenly becomes the lesser of the triumvirate. If and when Russia develops or gains access to the secret of atomic energy, she will again threaten to rise as a power equal to the U.S., if not greater. It seems now the slogan “home for Christmas” will be realized by many G.I’s. Not that I have any hope, but I can see no reason why the long-time overseas men should not be able to go home soon, even if Japan’s capitulation is farther away than we think at the moment. I hate to deceive myself with optimism, but I frankly can’t see Japan holding out much more than another month, providing we have other atomic bombs. That still remains to be seen; all we know now is that we have threatened to use more. I do like the way Truman and At[t]lee are handling the situation, giving Japan a chance to surrender. I am in hopes the surrender will have materialized by the time you receive this letter. If it doesn’t, Japan would be comitting national hari-kari. Your typewritten letter of July 26th was wonderful. All your letters are, but this one particularly took my fancy. It is full of most interesting news and comments. Sally Lou’s spree at “fixing” the typewriter must have been a success. The typing was certainly legible. She must have enjoyed her investigation of the “writer.” Does she need a spanking yet? Your reaction to the British elections was highly interesting and pleased me. You are right when you say we are living “when the world is undergoing the greatest, most drastic changes of all time[.]” It sounds as though your

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statement anticipated the release of atomic energy. You complain of only sitting, watching and waiting. Watching is the proper word for the moment. It is foolish to believe that the old economic order will carry on through all eternity when nothing in history ever indicates such a permanency of human institutions. The trend toward socialization is an irresistible force. The Roosevelt administration was certainly in that direction. I recognize such economic changes as inevitable and therefore should not be blocked. However, it is not without certain dangers. The cry of bureaucracy is certainly real, and it will be difficult to maintain an efficient government which controls most of the economic activities of the nation. I think there is a middle course we must steer. Perhaps England is already pointing the way. Yes, it is a world of peace and freedom for Sally Lou we want. On no generation in history has this burden rested more weightily than it does on us now. We need Plato’s Philosopher Kings as we never needed them before. Every letter you write seems to indicate remarkable growth and development in Sally Lou. I have mentioned this to you before, but the fact is so striking, I am forced to continually comment on it. Perhaps to you, many of the little things you mention may seem trifling because you are with Sally Lou so much, but for me, these are the only things I have to judge and form a picture of her. Her ability to identify all those objects you mentioned seems marvelous to me. I fear if I were home I’d be pestering the poor child crazy and spoiling her rotten. . . . The best news of all has been the apparent reduction in the hemangioma. Yes, it would be best to wait till September before doing anything about it, I agree. I doubt if Dr. Rosenbaum would want to operate then or now. How does the scar from the other one look now? Thanks for your regards to Manty, but alas, as you know, she flew the coop! That cartoon you sent gives me nostalgia to see you, even with your hair in pretzels. . . .79 I should write a letter to Dad, so I’ll close here, sweetheart. Goodnight my lovers, I miss you so much and each day that peace seems nearer the waiting gets more difficult. I want to be with you both always and forever after this is all over. Your loving husband

Frank.

★★★

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FRD-CDD, 11 August 1945, Somewhere on Luzon [Angeles City], Philippines My dearest, From today’s news, I learn there was little excitement back in the states yesterday. But here every G.I. went wild and the Filipinos themselves shared in the excitement. It was at night when the news hit here that Japan had surrendered. It was considered a foregone conclusion that the terms were acceptable to the United Nations. Steve and I had gone to a local café for some ice cream. We sat there chatting for some time about Lord knows what now. It was a little after nine when I heard a commotion of G.I’s in an adjoining room; there were cheering and general laughter and loud voices. Steve, an exceedingly introspective character, was oblivious of any disturbance as he usually is unaware of his environment. He rambled on, discussing some political or philosophical question and I was no more aware what he was saying than a stone wall. At the same time the voices of the G.I’s rose to such a crescendo the local white-robed priest walked in accompanied by several Filipinos. They were obviously happy and excited. In the din of the disturbance I strained to catch what they were saying. I caught a few words “the end,” “Japan,” “all over.” Turning to Steve I snapped his train of thought off short. “Did you hear that? Japan must have surrendered,” I said. We turned to the priest and he told us it was so. News had just come over the radio. For some reason, I had been in a state of slight depression and despondency all that day. I had been in no mood to listen to Steve’s chatter when we went to the café in the first place. But words of the priest suddenly altered my humors. It was as though a charge of electricity had surged through my body and awakened me from my physical and mental lethargy. Steve’s reaction was a direct contrast to mine. He sat there dumb and mute. “Let’s do something,” I shouted, “let’s go downtown, let’s get some drinks.” I could see Steve was disturbed at my reaction and I was no less upset over his quiet acceptance of the news. He would rather sit and ponder all the new problems arising out of a surrender. Although Steve conceded to go downtown with me, I felt angry and frustrated with him. A peculiar irony of fate that would catch me in this predicament, I thought. After all these years of wondering what I’d do on the new Armistice Day, here I was with an unimaginative “glom” as Steve himself so frequently calls characters he doesn’t like.

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I thought of Ed. There would have been no person over here I’d rather have been with. Even that very afternoon I had gone down to his camp only to discover he was away on detached service. Well, Steve and I went over to the village while the church bells were ringing wildly. Every car from Jeeps to the heavy tonners [trucks] was honking its horn and soldiers cheering and shouting madly. Filipinos called out “You go home now, [G.I.] Joe?” Strangers were shaking our hands and patting our backs. We sat in a bar and watched the wild merriment over three whiskey sours. A drunken sailor sang with the orchestra, a megaphone raised to his lips and swaying precariously. Soldiers danced with each other. Back at the squadron again we found Bishop and Brown80 bent over a radio. It was they who had climbed one of the church towers and rang the two hurricane bells while someone else was ringing the bells in the other tower. In the choir loft George had opened up the organ and began to play. This [sic; unclear] sisters came in and sang and prayed. That was the way George and Jim Brown had celebrated. The next day we learned our gaieties were a little premature. Most g.i’s were willing to concede the demands of the Japs to retain their Emperor.81 At least that was the first reaction. As for myself, I see no reason in the world why we can’t make that concession. I’m wondering how many Americans the home folks are willing to sacrifice for the one life of Hirotito [sic]. The news from America that public opinion was overwhelmingly against accepting the Japanese offer has enraged me and a good many other G.I’s. Hirohito is certainly only a puppet and has had no voice in the policies of the government. He is a figurehead of no more significance than the King of England. Furthermore, under an enforced democratic regime in Japan the Emperor could be a powerful factor in reshaping Japanese public opinion along constructive and cooperative lines. I do believe by the time you receive this the Japanese terms will have been accepted. I only hope so. My love to you, darling, and a million kisses and hugs to my Sally Lou. I’ll love you both through all eternity. Your own Frank.

★★★

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FRD-CDD, 13 August 1945, Somewhere on Luzon [Angeles City], Philippines My darling, . . . Somehow or other I lost both my fountain pens yesterday. I’m inclined to think they were stolen from my shirt while I was taking a shower. There has been an epidemic of thefts in our squadron. However, I may have lost them out of my pocket. It’s hard to think I’d lose both at once, especially when one of them has such a tight clasp. On the basis that I might have dropped them out of my shirt when I went swimming, I went back up to the river today, but found nothing. The one pen was such a good Schaeffer, I hated to lose it. Right now I’m using Steve’s pen. I stopped at Celio’s home and left a gift. I don’t think I had told you that between two of the Sundays that I went fishing with him, a daughter was born. Indeed, I hadn’t discovered it until several weeks later and the event seemed almost an every day occurrence. At least it didn’t interfere with any of Celio’s fishing expeditions. Today I bought a tiny baby dress and delivered it to his wife. Celio wasn’t home and his wife didn’t seem to know what to make of it, I guess. She doesn’t speak English, so she hardly knew the meaning of what I handed her and apparently thought it was something for Celio which she’d give him when he returned. I left matters stand that way. I got two letters from you today, two good ones. Your story of Willie Withers visiting Father was beautifully told and quite stirring. I think Willie must typify a type of darky that is rapidly disappearing in the South. In a way, it is regrettable. The devotion old Willie showed is becoming a rare thing in our turbulent society. We are losing a spirit of kindliness and respect in our headlong dash to keep apace of the machine age. Speaking of Negroes, Brown just gave me the book “Strange Fruit.”82 I don’t know whether I’ll read it or not. I really don’t have too much of a desire to wade through the lurid pages. However, it’s a short book, I have nothing special to read now, and my available time for reading seems to become more and more limited. So I might read it. I’ll let you know my reactions, if I do. Since I didn’t write you yesterday, I hadn’t told you I had seen the movie Valley of Decision.83 It is a very fine picture dealing with the early development of Pittsburgh and labor strife. The whole thing was handled admirably with considerable objectivity yet wound around a very powerful romance. It is well worth seeing.

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You asked me about my prospects of moving elsewhere. All I can say is your guess is as good as mine. In the light of recent international developments, I hardly think there is a possibility or even probability of going to either India or China as you suggested. Uppermost in every GI.’s mind now is who will go into Japan as the Army of occupation. I dread such a prospect. This is Monday evening now, and still there is no news of whether Japan will accept the Potsdam declaration and the added provision that Hirohito must accept the dictation of the allied commander.84 I think the compromise was very well worked out by the United Nations and it gives me increased confidence in our government. I believe the United States was mostly responsible for the compromise on the Hirohito question. I think Truman and his staff are doing admirably. We are now waiting hourly for the Japanese decision. All indications point that Japan will accept. They’d be fools not to. I do not think the terms are too harsh. We are not making the mistake of the last war. . . . . . . My love to the folks, and always and forever to you and Sally Lou. Yes, I too, surely count on being home a year from now. It will be incredible, that first meeting. I wonder where it will be, what Sally Lou will do. I see it in my mind’s eye a thousand times, but its anticipation will never be as great as the real thing. Forever and ever yours,

Frank.

★★★

CDD-FRD, 14 August 1945, [Altheimer, Arkansas] My own darling, This is it! August 14, 1945 and the war is over, after all these long years! I’m more thankful than joyous—it’s too profound a thing for me to feel like jumping and screaming, as apparently millions are doing—but oh darling, I thank God you’re safe and will perhaps be home soon. I’m very very proud of you for having been such a fine soldier, and I wish I could hug & kiss & tell you how grateful I am that at last there’s no fighting.

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This has been a day of much—shall I say anxiety? I turned the radio on at 7:00 A.M. to hear that the message from Tokyo was in the hands of the Swiss legation & that we’d soon hear the reply. At 10:30 we were still waiting, & it was then that . . . & Noni came for me. Of course we had the radio on . . . , all of us tense for the exciting news. Then at 12:30 or thereabouts we were told that the “note” did not contain a reply to the Allied offer. After all these days of waiting, I felt ready to tear my hair. It was at 6:00 P.M. that finally we heard the good and long awaited news. Father had come home from the store, & the Walts had come to listen with us.85 I believe I’ve never felt such emotion before—and the “Star Spangled Banner” which followed, never had more significance. How I wish I could see you tonight! Sally Lou went about her way during those very important moments. I only pray she’ll never see a war. I picked her up & told her that her daddy would soon be home & she smiled about it. I do feel encouraged over your getting home fairly soon. It was announced that the requisite of points would be considerably cut, & the newly inducted men will be sent as replacements, both of which factors will help our situation. 5 1/2 million are to be sent home in the next 12 to 18 months. I do hope we don’t have to wait that long. Wouldn’t it be marvelous for you to make it by Christmas! I wonder how & when you rec’d the news, and if you too became exasperated with the waiting. Or did it come to you suddenly and unexpectedly? I doubt that, because we heard reports of celebration in Manilla early this morning. I’m already so anxious to get the letter you’re perhaps writing tonight. I had one letter from you today—not the two or three I expected. . . . However I’m now forced to confess I have started smoking again—about a month ago. I feel sorta wicked in waiting this long to tell you, but I kept thinking I’d quit again—and I haven’t yet. I did consider it a personal triumph—and feel worse that I’ve started again than if I’d never quit. My reason for falling is weak—I was just in a mood to try one—probably I was bored—and from then on I’ve been after them. Martha Jane told a good story today.86 Someone told the joke which appeared in Reader’s Digest, re[garding] getting rid of company. The husband looks at his wife and says, “We’d better get to bed & let these folk go home.” M.J. [Martha Jane] said her brother-in-law says he looks at his wife & says, “How’d you like to have a baby nine months and fifteen minutes from now?” Alice Ruth sent Sally Lou an adorable little sacque she knit for her.87 It’s the sweetest she has, but almost too babyish. She may wear it a little bit.

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Well, dearest, I’m sleepy & tired, & I must screw my curls up before I go to bed. I hope I’ll have some mail tomorrow. I love you so devotedly, my own, and I’m so anxious for the day you’ll be home. With all my heart,

Chris’

★★★

FRD-CDD, 14 August 1945, Vicinity of Manila [Fort McKinley], Philippines My darling, My change of address testifies to my transfer to a different area. In a way, I hated to leave the old place. I got to like the quaintness of the Filipino town and the countryside was far more beautiful than it is here. I’ll miss those fishing trips and the swims in the river. I suppose, too, I have seen the last of Alberto and Celio. I have counted so many disadvantages to this change of address that I arrived here in almost a fit of depression. If I knew it were a move on the way home, no apparent disadvantage would count. I suppose my age is making me conservative and willing to stay in one place. I find most of the boys, including Ed, like to keep moving as much as possible. But it’s no life for me. I don’t enjoy building up a new area, making it semi-livable then moving out again. I just heard the Japs surrendered! Two of the boys have just come down into the tent reporting the good news. I have no verification but I’m inclined to believe it’s the real thing we’ve been expecting these last several days. What a way to celebrate! Sitting here on my bunk griping because I’ve been transferred. I’d give anything to get down to Manila now but the sky is so threatening, it wouldn’t be worth venturing out. Any attempt to celebrate would be literally dampened. Odd that this good news is like an anti-climax after the excitement of last Friday night. Those days from Saturday to Tuesday seem to

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be the longest four days I’ve ever lived through. I felt like cursing the cumbersome diplomatic machinery. God, I wonder what’s next. How long will it be before I’m on the move again—this time for home? I’m nearer a port of debarkation now. I feel like going down to the harbor and thumbing my way home. Before this great news broke, I was going to say in spite of the disadvantages I saw to coming here, there are compensating advantages. Best of all, Manila is near. Although the city looks terribly depressing because of the destruction, still the spirit is there. The Manila Symphony Orchestra has been playing and I’m in hope there will be programs I can attend. There are also two Universities—the University of Manila and the University of the Philippines—which have started classes. Steve and I were hoping to be able to attend some classes. The Army has been encouraging it in Europe, and I believe the same thing will happen here. To think it’s all over—that is, the worst of it. But this waiting to get back will seem far worse than those nine long months we waited for Sally Lou. My points seem so pathetically low compared to so many fellows over here. I have fears for the worse, but the worst now is far better than a continuation of the war. I wish I were with you this minute or at least could just see you, Sally Lou, Mother, Father and Dot. It must be a great feeling to folks back home to know that the dangers are over. I suppose there will still be isolated Jap garrisons still fighting, though. Perhaps for quite a time yet. Casualties from now on will seem to be much more tragic. . . . I never did hear anything from UNRRA and I intend to write them in the next day or two. I was holding off a while because of the expected change of address and also because I thought it would be best to wait till a Jap surrender. I believe now the Army would drop the age for such a special discharge and I’d be on surer ground. There’s nothing I’d like better than a position with U.N.R.R.A. When I first learned of the opportunity I was apprehensive about your reaction. Strange, for I don’t know why. I, too, haven’t given up hope by any means. In fact today’s news raises my hopes even higher. Would I go? you ask. Would I! Of course I’d want the assurance that you and Sally Lou could go with me or least join me shortly. I think it would be a tremendous experience for all of us. Furthermore, such work would be invaluable professionally, I think. Well, sweetheart, it’s all over now and we can start really planning for a future without having such misgivings. Sally Lou’s earliest memories will be peace, not war, thank God. More than ever I want to be with you. I love you both more than ever I could express. The future is ours and it no longer will be “Where ignorant armies clash by night . . ..”88

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I write goodnight kisses to both of you, although it is early morning kisses for each of you at the moment I write. In fact it is yesterday’s morning for you. Love forever and always. Your devoted husband

Frank.

★★★

FRD-CDD, 16 August 1945, Vicinity of Manila [Fort McKinley], Philippines My dearest, Yesterday morning [Jim] Brown and I were just starting off to work when we met our Captain. He asked us where we were going, then told us we didn’t have to work today if we didn’t want to. Take the day off, he told us. We didn’t hesitate, of course. So we celebrated the Jap surrender by going to Manila. Manila is about twice as great a hub-bub as the last time I saw it. Tremendous activity is everywhere. Brown and I first went to the Red Cross. My first impulse there was to inquire about the Manila Symphony and to my surprise I learned there was a concert that evening. I lost no time trying to get tickets. The Red Cross sent me to the Rex Theater. The Rex sent me to Philippine Base Section, who sent me to Intelligence and Education, who sent me to Athletics and Recreation where I finally got the tickets.89 By then I had covered damn near the whole city walking and hitching a ride whenever I could. I was glad Brown hadn’t come with me on my pursuit for tickets, for I’d have been discouraged by him long before I had attained my goal. But my efforts were richly rewarded. I can’t think of any way I’d have rather celebrated the peace and Japanese surrender than to have heard a concert. Brown went along, although I tried to discourage him. He has a limited capacity and very few interests outside of sensual pleasures. But for some silly reason he was determined to tag along. We went to the theater early after we had rested at the Red Cross. We wound our way through the Chinese section of the city and climbed over piles of debris still left in the streets. When we finally got to the theater we were plenty early. It was hot and stuffy inside and I became apprehensive about

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Brown lasting out, although I was determined come hell or high water. Fortunately Brown spied a fan blowing from the balcony and we moved to sit directly under the breeze. We were comfortable the rest of the evening. I’m inclosing the program we heard. I think almost any symphonic program would have been welcome after so long a starvation. The orchestra itself performed far beyond my expectations. Tschaikowsky’s 5th seemed to fill the bill perfectly for the day.90 The last movement is like a great triumphal march yet there are also those characteristic tragic parts that are typical of Tschaikowsky. The dirge for the dead. . . . To my amazement, Brown seemed to enjoy the concert although it seemed too long for him and his attention lagged decidedly at the end. But the whole thing was a revelation to him. I can see I’ll have to cut this letter short. Mosquitoes are threatening to eat me up and some of the boys are sitting here telling dirty jokes so that I scarcely know what I’ve been writing. I got two letters from you today, brought down from my old address. What a surprise! Also a good letter from Al. He’s still in Denison, Iowa. He asked me if I had written Grace recently and if not, to do so. (I had, thank God.) Al said she “wrote me a pathetic letter. . . . . [ellipsis in original] I’m certain she’s having a difficult struggle. . . . [ellipsis in original]91 I can see I’ll have to find a different system of writing you. I’m getting those huge welts all over me. I surrender, mosquitoes! Sweetheart, I love you, but am helpless when I try to tell you how much. Forever and always I’m yours,

Frank.

★★★

FRD-AGD, 19 August 1945, Manila [Fort McKinley], Philippines Dear Al, Did my letter actually prompt an answer from you? But I, too, am guilty of the same misdemeanor, especially in regard to writing Grace. I had had a short V-Mail from her about a week before your good letter arrived, and she

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had threatened to disown me as a brother unless I wrote. I sat down within an hour and sent her a very long and apologetic letter. Poor Grace! Her situation seems to go from bad to worse. I think she confesses her difficulties to you more than to anyone else. I wish some of us were in a position to help her. But if we were I don’t know what we could do. I believe she is too easy in regard to Mel’s obligations and wants to show him the family can get along in spite of him.92 Yes, I, too, believe he is a hopeless misfit, a neurotic with a veneer of finesse that gets him by in the world. I hope Grace never finds it necessary to accept him back. As you notice, I have a new address. My outfit has been moved to the Manila vicinity. There have been both advantages and disadvantages to the move. Until we get our place fixed up, the disadvantages will outweigh any betterment we might have attained. Our camp is in turmoil right now and I’m so sick of living on a standard of living lower than the Amish cattle in eastern Pennsylvania that it’s all I can do to keep from blowing my top. It’s the realization that the arrangement is only temporary that keeps me within the bounds of sanity. Already one week of it has been an ordeal. I flee camp at every opportunity and that’s where the tremendous advantage to our new set up comes in. It’s the city of Manila nearby that makes the temporary ugliness of camp life endurable. Manila is a huge city, buzzing with reconstruction activity. The Red Cross has established excellent facilities in various parts of the town. There are two Universities, the Philippine Institute operated by the Army where I already registered for Spanish I and Criminology, and best of all the Manila Symphony Orchestra. Perhaps you read in Time of the opening concert of the Manila Symphony Society. The day the Japanese surrendered I had come to Manila with a friend. At the Red Cross I made immediate inquiries about concerts and to my delight learned there was one scheduled that very evening. I went all over the city trying to get tickets—one agency referred me to another and so on ad infinitum. Fortunately the fellow I was with didn’t come along to track the tickets down. The ordeal would have discouraged any individual, but I continued until I finally got tickets. The orchestra lived up to much more than my expectations. A few G.I’s were playing with them, but it was composed mostly of Filipinos, some of whom looked remarkably young. The director, Mr. Zipper, is a refugee from Germany.93 Out of this war-devastated Manila, he really resuscitated a remarkable orchestra that can only be considered a triumph of the human spirit. The program that night included Tschaikowsky’s Symphony No. 5, Debussy’s Petite Suite and Wagner’s Prelude to Die Meistersinger. I suppose any symphonic program would have been welcome to me after two years, but the

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Tschaikowsky work seemed peculiarly appropriate for the day of Japanese capitulation.94 It is largely somber with an air of triumph at the end. The composer whips up the same almost morbid theme into a terrific climax of joy. You know it well: . . . There are so many things I want to write about, but I’ll have to cover them hurriedly and briefly. First of all there was the atomic bomb. It electrified this theater and has stunned all thinking men. While we all knew it obviously meant an early end to the war, its significance was of far greater import. It is unquestionably the greatest technical achievement of mankind. I think its significance outweighs the invention of the wheel or the appropriation of fire. By this single device—the harnessing of atomic power—the species of homo sapiens shall rise to a tremendous height or fall into complete oblivion. It would be a paradox of nature if the very intellect that raises man above all other animals were to be his cause for extinction. The entymologists may prove right in asserting that the insects are the most fit animals to survive and will become the masters of the earth. Or our old Sociology Professor may not have been far from the truth when he stated that perhaps centuries from now black Anthropologists and Archaeologists from Africa may be found poking around in the ruins of the Cathedral of Learning.95 The cultural lag at no time in history has come to such significance. Technical science has so far outstripped man’s ability to control the devices it has created that a serious threat to society exists. With the Social Sciences lies our only hope. Here again there is a tremendous lag between the application of the knowledge of the Social Sciences and the facts already ascertained. These are historic times. I’ll have to skip the Japanese surrender except to say it was welcome. For a few days there, I thought the Americans back home were willing to sacrifice any number of lives for the one life of the puppet Hirohito. Your account of the Mexican laborers was highly interesting. In regard to use of a foreign language, I have had the same experience over here. I learned a few phrases and sentences of the native dialect and every time I’d use them I’d be barraged with a flood of conversation in Pampanga. I’d keep saying “Wa” (Yes) and the flow of non-sense syllables would continue. It became a sort of sport I delighted in. I forgot to tell you I met Ed Dobroski here. He had been assigned to my same A.P.O. number and looked me up. You can well imagine my surprise when I went back to the tent one evening to find him waiting for me. I was staggered by the blow. Well, Ed and I got to see each other quite frequently until our outfit pulled stakes. One Sunday the two of us spent swimming in the river, tramping along carabao trails and visiting with some Filipino friends.

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There is something awfully good and genuine about Ed. I still rate him as my very best friend. He hasn’t changed much except he’s a little balder. His thinking has tended more to the right while mine has drifted to the left. It’s peculiar, for I don’t think we met half way. We crossed, although Ed seemed to be influenced by my arguments. You ought to write him. Here’s his address. . . . I’ll have to close, although I could go on and on. I feel I haven’t told you anything. We’ll have to get caught up when we see each other again. I hope it won’t be long from now. Chris and Sally Lou are fine. From Chris’ description, the kid is growing so rapidly I won’t know her. I hate to miss these formative and cute months of her life. So long, boy

Frank.

★★★

FRD-CDD, 21 August 1945, Manila, Philippines My dearest, This will be another of those hurried and inadequate letters. Geo. Bishop and I have just come to Manila to hear the Symphony Orchestra. It will be George’s first concert, my second. I don’t know what the program is, but I’m sure it will be good. I’ve been too starved from good music to be very finicky. This transfer to Manila is proving to be advantageous in many respects although our living quarters are not nearly as good as formerly. I would like to see Manila 10 or 15 years hence. Perhaps Sally Lou, you and I will. Who knows.96 I’m sure I’ve lost all provincialism and have a yearning to be situated anywhere on the globe. I doubt that I’ll be satisfied staying in one place too long. It’s odd. Most of the fellows gain just the opposite from this overseas experience. They can think of nothing better than to get back home and settle down for the rest of their lives. The average G.I. does not experience travel and foreign lands objectively. Instead of viewing customs and peoples as different and accepting them as such, he looks upon the differences as marks of inferiority and therefore holds much of a strange and new culture in

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contempt. This attitude on the part of most of our overseas soldiers is one of the most damaging things to American Good Will. I’m wondering how Sally Lou and you would like following me to any part of the globe. Do you think each of you has a wanderlust? I would think there will be many opportunities in Social Work in the foreign field even if U.N.R.R.A. never materializes. I guess I’m counting my chickens before they hatch, but I like to think of it that way. I’ll have to go. It’s getting time for us to be off to the concert. I only wish you and Sally Lou could go with me. . . . Forever your loving husband Frank.

★★★

FRD-CDD, [12?] August 1945, Philippines [Editor’s note: Part of this undated letter was returned to Frank, unmailed, by the Army censor with passages crossed out in red pencil. The censor did not return the beginning or the end of the letter. When the censor returned the excised letter, Frank sought to recreate it, partly from memory and partly by copying verbatim what was left of the original letter. Below, the underlined passages indicate sections of the original letter that the censors crossed out in red. The passages in double brackets are from the reconstructed letter, which Frank dated 24? August 1945 in his handwritten version and 25 August 1945 in his later, typescript version. For the text and the circumstances of the censored and reconstructed letters, see the censored letter (undated, with missing pages); FRD to CDD, 24? August 1945, which, following a note attached to the letter by Frank, I have dated 12? August 1945; FRD to CDD, 24? August 1945; and Frank’s note on the typescript version.] . . . [[I’m glad the German]] atrocity films are being shown to the public back home, although I hate to think of children being subjected to such scenes. The authenticity of these atrocities in contrast to the last war is indisputable. I think it is important to a greater degree that the German civilians should see them and be reminded of them for a long period. Bishop expresses some of the most confounding attitudes and opinions. Sometimes I think he is actually stupid, yet he often shows glimmerings of

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some sounder thought. The other day when we were in Manila together he said the United Nations should make thousands of Japs march over all the unexploded mine fields! “No,” I said, “I’m proud that the United Nations has no official record of atrocities.” George realized then his error and backed down. But at first, he was dead serious. What gets me is that George wants to be ordained as a Baptist minister. While the United Nations has no official atrocities to its credit, there have been isolated instances of atrocities. It is inevitable that the situation would get a little out of control at times. Once when I went to the latrine I sat by some unknown G.I. who described with great delight and gory detail how he and two other G.I’s had captured a Jap and proceeded to torture him by cutting off his ears and limbs and stabbing him till he finally died! He seemed ready to tell me of another such affair, but I had enough. “You see,” I said, “You’re describing an American atrocity that is just as bad as the Jap atrocities we read about.” The words “American atrocities” had never before dawned on the stupid fool, I’m sure. He suddenly became very much dampened in his enthusiasm, and said he never wanted to see such a sight again. It also has been no secret that the Marines had been “ordered” not to capture any Jap alive, no matter what the circumstances. It later developed that the situation worked a hardship on Intelligence, for they were no longer able to get prisoners in order to ascertain the strength and disposition of the enemy. I have seen posters by Intelligence exhorting the American G.I. to “Bring ’em back alive.” Your question as to whether I heard of the atomic bomb amuses me.97 That’s the most naive question you could have written. In fact, I don’t think I ever [end of page; remainder of letter not returned] ★★★

CDD-FRD, 1 September 1945, [Altheimer, Arkansas] My own darling, This was a wonderful day for letters—three of them! Actually four, for besides your three I received a nice letter from Al. You see, he was sending me the letter you sent him by mistake, and added a very welcome letter of his own. Then your other two were wonderful. I must have read & re-read each one a half dozen times. Al wrote a fine letter, devoting a great part of it to his viewpoints on the

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peace—“truce” he called it. He believes we’re on the wrong track, exerting military & physical power to maintain it. I’m sure he’s written you all this, too; and no doubt has told you more. I certainly feel that we can be very proud of Al for his convictions and for standing by them as he has. I thoroughly agree with him in regard to the application of Christian principles as being the only way to maintain peace, —but I can’t see what would have happened if we hadn’t fought. Al also was very happy with his picture of Sally Lou. He said, “I have it on my shelf by my wardrobe where all can see. Her eyes are as big and bright as can be. I was amused by your statement that she looks like Frank and therefore, me!! Really, I am flattered. . . .” Your own

Chris’

★★★

FRD-CDD, 2 September 1945, Vicinity of Manila [Fort McKinley], Philippines My dearest, . . . Aug. 31st was pay day. I had intended staying in that evening to read my Criminology chapters and write you. But shortly after supper, Weal came to the tent and suggested we go to Manila. With my pay in my pocket, I readily succumbed to the temptation, with regrets that I would not write you. As it turned out later, it didn’t matter about my Institute lesson, for I didn’t go to class anyway. Weal and I got to town and started the rounds. Our first stop was some honky-tonk dive where an out-of-tune half-orchestra kept trying to whip up a spirit of merriment. It was strictly a dive in an old bombed-out theater. The bar was on the ground floor and on either side of the bar a long, steep, narrow, wooden flight of stairs led to what used to be the balcony mezanine of the theater. All the trappings of splendor of the old show-house were gone with the rubble. In their place there was just the bare cement walls whitewashed. Weal and I sat there a while drinking a shot of cherry brandy with sarsasaparilla as a chaser. We watched a few drunken sailors and soldiers stagger

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around the dance floor with unwilling Filipino girls, but such antics became rapidly boresome to a sober person. From a window near our table we spied a very fancy looking place in the 3rd floor of a building across the street. We immediately resolved to go over there. It was called the Hacienda. On the stairs leading up to the place there were signs “For Members Only,” so we had some misgivings at first, but having had no trouble at admittance after we paid a P[eso] 3.00 charge, we learned from the waiter that the Members Only sign was to keep out drunks and undesirables. The Hacienda was a jump from one extreme to another. It was fixed up as nice as most of the night spots at home and much nicer than a great many. The very simplicity of decoration added to its attractiveness. The walls were painted a pastel blue-gray. The ceilings were panelled with woven bamboo. On a far wall was a huge mural of a typical Filipino country scene. The painting was done with artistry and good taste. Tables with gleaming white tablecloths were scattered out over the floor with a dancing space left in the center. A Filipino band was mounted on a low bleacher-like platform. The whole atmosphere was one of respectability. Bud and I must have sat there a couple hours, chatting over whiskey sours and listening to the jazz band which gave a remarkable performance. Unlike the average band, this group played with exact intonation and a solid, harmonic structure. The leader was obviously a musician of the first order and completely lacked the cheap tricks of the master of ceremonies techniques. They played Star Dust, Begin the Beguine, Cabin in the Sky, and many others.98 I seemed in a particular mood to enjoy the music. Star Dust always takes me back to Gallup, for it, was there that I learned to know it. I was wishing for you so much. I wanted you to be beside me at the table to enjoy the evening with me. Our last fling at the Manila night life was a Vaudeville act in an old theater on the main drag. From the Hacienda to this we came off a pinnacle to the lower depths. It was a typical cheap show bordering on risqué burlesque. Acrobats, midgets, Spanish dancers and hula dancers, the whole performance was as ghastly as the hideousness of the smelling theater, an old bombed-out wreck of a building which was fixed up with a very minimum of effort. Then yesterday, when I came back to my tent at noon, I found Ed waiting there. He was on a 3-day pass. I was naturally glad to see him, but I realized it again precluded the possibility of getting a letter off to you or even going to my scheduled class at the Institute. That evening Ed and I went to Manila. I took him first to the San Sebastian Cathedral where we climbed one of the steeples and got an over-all view of the city and bay.99 San Sebastian is an unusual gothic cathedral. It is constructed entirely of steel brought over piece by piece from Belgium and

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assembled here. Miraculously, in the ruins of the city, the church was spared destruction except for a few panels pierced by bullets in the extraordinary stained glass windows. The church itself has a certain artificiality of appearance, for steel and gothic construction are definitely not partners. It is a travesty on the stone cutting of the ancient cathedrals of the Old World. It is a peculiar mentality that would design such a structure as San Sebastian. From the church, Ed and I wandered all over downtown Manila. We stopped at the Institute, went from one curio shop to another, rested a while at the Red Cross, and ended up in a Café with a dish of ice cream. . . . I have been getting letters quite regularly from you the past several days. Your accounts of the suspense awaiting Japanese surrender have been interesting. From occasional accounts I read or hear, I judge some parts of the country went into wild hysteria, especially San Francisco. As I write now, the final preparations are being made to have the formal surrender document signed in Tokyo, and the radio announced a broadcast of the historic event will be made at 10:00 this morning. That’s just a half hour from now, and precisely the 6th Anniversary of Hitler’s march into Poland.100 Your letter of August 13th stated you had wanted Al’s address. If you don’t have it yet, here it is: C.P.S. #18 Denison, Iowa . . . I’m writing this Sunday morning while I’m on a temporary duty as monitor of the transmitters. At this minute, news at dictation speed is coming over the receiver. In 30 minutes the war will officially be over! Japan, the neverbefore-defeated-nation will have admitted its complete and utter defeat. No, I too, do not think either the Japanese or Germans would have had any restraint with atomic bombings had either of them made its discovery first. Your question is apparently rhetorical and contains interesting (or puzzling) implications.101 The realization that the Nazis or the Japanese would have used the bomb indiscriminately and savagely would have been no excuse for us to have done likewise. In fact, I have the greatest admiration for the restraint with which the United Nations used the terrible weapon. Once again we proved to the world that we are still motivated by some humanitarian instincts. We set an example at the most crucial moment in all history. It was an example of intellectual restraint that the human race could ill afford to have done without. It was not an example of cowardice. A bully with brass knuckles threatening a pigmy does not show cowardice if he restrains his blows. He no longer becomes a bully, but elevates himself to a reasoning

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human being above a purely animal level. I am proud of the precedent the United Nations set. I have so much more I want to write about. I’ve scarcely mentioned Sally Lou. A pile of your letters have accumulated, which I haven’t “answered.” But I’ll let six pages suffice for this one. . . . Forever your own Frank.

★★★

FRD-CDD, 4 September 1945, Fort McKinley, Philippines My darling, Today censorship has been lifted. I can now write what I want and seal my letters. The censorship has been eliminated for all except those in the occupation forces in Japan. Apparently, little has been censored from my letters, for you haven’t mentioned any for sometime. However, I usually wrote with a consciousness of the censor in the back of my mind. The letter I wrote last week which was red-lined and returned to me is the only recent censoring I know of. Now that the ban is removed, I’ll send you those pages in a subsequent letter. I have a suspicion that one whole letter of mine was censored to the extent of complete confiscation without notifying me or returning the letter. I base this on the fact that I heard no comment from you. The letter in question is the one I defined “pom-pom” and indicated certain abuses.102 Did you ever get that letter? I got hold of the August 20th issue of Time, the one with the long discourse on the “Atomic Age.” It is a terrific write-up and has all the exciting drama of a Street and Smith, but far more significant.103 I spent all afternoon yesterday reading, or rather devouring the contents of the whole issue. It’s the first Time I’ve seen that doesn’t seem to date back to the “dark ages,” that is, the dark period when I was being shipped away from you. If you haven’t already sent the issue, you needn’t now. Apparently magazines are flowing to this area with greater rapidity now. I only hope other luxury items will come soon—like ice cream. . . . I get more and more depressed thinking of my meager number of points.

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I feel as though Congress is the G.I’s only friend right now, for as I see this military set-up, the higher-ups in the Army would like to perpetuate this as long as possible. After all, they are in the gravy. My only hope for comparative happiness from now on is to get that transfer to instructing the Social Sciences or German. But you know how the Army is. You get the run around, everyone passing the buck. The Far Eastern [East] Air Force[s] (FEAF) of which my unit is a part, won’t release me to teach at the Philippine Institute because FEAF itself expects to start a school. I’m trying to get in on the ground floor of this one, but the situation is sometimes exasperating. The day after tomorrow I hope to get up to Clark Field near Angeles, to see a Lieutenant in charge of a FEAF school that is just starting. Incidentally, now that I can tell you, my last location was directly in the town of Angeles, Pompanga province, about 40 or 50 miles north of Manila. Our outfit used a Catholic School building near the cathedral I had described. The set-up was so much superior to our present one, that I haven’t yet recovered from a mental depression since I came here. Fort McKinley is about five miles from Manila—southeast, I’d judge. While I’m glad I’m near Manila, there is considerable inconvenience getting back and forth. The camp-site here is almost constantly a quagmire. It’s selection as a site defies any reason or intelligence. On one side of us is a rubbish and garbage dump. Directly opposite is a huge cess pool and cement settling basin for the sewage from the original Fort McKinley establishment about a mile up the hill. The dump and cess-pool are only separated by about 300 yards with our tents in between. These two would be enough, but in addition, we are flanked by a stone quarry where earth-rocking blasts from dynamiting literally jar us and we’re near enough the end of a C-47 runway so that it sounds as though the planes roar right through our tents. This latter, fortunately has been diminishing since the war’s end. The combination of these things have been driving me to distraction. All my fishing excursions I used to make out of Angeles were along the Porac river, near the village of Porac where my Filipino friends lived. Ed was stationed near the town of San Fernando, Pampango (there are a couple of San Fernandos in the Philippines)[.] It was about 5 miles southeast (I believe) from Angeles. I hadn’t known that a white plane with green crosses was to fly the Japs in the direction of Manila for the preliminary negotiations.104 Some Russian planes flew overhead here, but I didn’t see them. I’ve been trying to write this letter with two religious fanatics arguing. I came over to the Chaplain’s office to find a table and a bright light and got myself into a nest of bigoted religionists. I told them I considered Christianity a complete and total failure and the sooner christians recognize this fact the

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greater chance Christianity has of surviving and reorganizing itself. I shocked them to the roots of their souls and I’m sure they figure I’m destined for hell’s fire. Right now one of the boys is explaining the Presbyterian dogma of Predestination. I’m out of the argument, disgusted with their thought which belongs to the 16th Century not the 20th. I’ll have to close, for I think these boys want to leave. I love you, sweetheart, and long for you as I never did before. I suspect the tone of my letters for the past two weeks has not always been too pleasant. It’s a result of this environment, I detest. Kisses for my Sally Lou, and all my love, too. Always your Frank. P.S. Also, I always forgot to mention that clipping about the experimental atomic bombing in New Mexico.105 It was astounding, the area that felt the shock. I was glad to read about it. Gallup was just on the fringe of the shock. I wonder if anyone there felt it. That Time write-up also gave New Mexico a dramatic rôle.

★★★

CDD-FRD, 6 September 1945, [Altheimer, Arkansas] My darling, This is the day we’ve waited for, for over ten months! I really didn’t dream it would be so soon, and I’m so excited I can hardly wait morning to come to prove that I’m not dreaming—or to see it happen again. Perhaps tomorrow it will be even more definite; perhaps even there’ll be more of them. Sept. 6, 1945 is the date to remember to record in Sally Lou’s book as the day on which she took her first two steps! You see for the past two days she’s been walking as she held my hand, (Father’s chiefly), then tonight I was playing on the floor with her, she stood alone for a second or two, then took two steps toward Dot. I practically fainted, for as I told you before I had not the slightest idea she was ready for that. It will be some time, I’m sure, before she takes more than that, for she’s very shaky on her legs, but I now feel pretty sure she’ll be walking by her birthday. What a

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thrill it was to see and how I wish you’d shared the joy with me! Oh darling, it grieves me to have to write all these little progressions of Sally Lou’s to you, when you should never be denied the privilege of seeing for yourself. Sally Lou wants to do things all the time & is miserable to just sit in one’s lap. To walk with her or allow her the privilege of playing on the floor, walking from one piece of furniture to another would keep her happy indefinitely. . . . Today Father took her down to the dock to feed the fish. She was delighted to give the small crumbs of stale bread to the hungry fish until she got to her last piece—No indeed! That was Sally Lou’s, & when Father tried to take it she clenched it with all her might & cried as if her heart would break. Of course Sally Lou wasn’t forced to give her last crumb away to the fish. When finally Father replaced the bread with a hickory nut, she was satisfied. . . . There was no mail for me today. Perhaps tomorrow there will be. I must sign off & get to bed for it’s nearly midnight. Sally Lou will be calling for breakfast before I know it. Perhaps she’ll walk to the kitchen! Darling, I adore you & want you with me so very much. Sally Lou says tell you she loves you too & will run to meet you when you come home to us. Always my dearest love, darling Chris’ ★★★

FRD-CDD, 6 September 1945, Fort McKinley, Philippines My darling I was very proud of your report of Sally Lou’s first church attendance. . . . Sally Lou showed a commendable instinct when she reached out for the offering plate. I suppose that tendency will have to be sublimated. . . . Rev. Harrison’s topic should be on the lips of every clergyman throughout the world, yet I went to an evening church service with Bishop shortly after the atomic bombing and the [Army] Chaplain still spoke in terms of those vague and undefined concepts and dogma of the church that have repeatedly frustrated Christianity.106 I was so discouraged, I felt that Christianity might prove incapable of meeting the new challenge. However, when I think of [liberal religious leaders] Stipek, Niemöller, Fosdick,107 Rabbi Freehof 108 (Reformed Jewish in Pgh.) and Dr. Clausen109 (Baptist in Pgh.) I gain considerable hope. Sally Lou’s reaching for the moon strikes me. It must have been awfully

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cute. I don’t remember ever having heard of a child doing that, yet it sounds perfectly natural for a baby. I’ve read of children trying to grasp sunbeams, but never the moon. That was quite a demand on Father. . . . You ask if there’s any danger of my going to Japan. Of course, I’m never sure where I might go, but right now it looks as though I’m fairly safe in staying on the Philippines. The danger has passed. When I was up at Angeles we belonged to the 5th Air Force. That outfit moved bodily to Okinawa and by some trick of fate, the 8th Fighter Control Squadron was transferred to the Fareastern [sic] Air Force[s]. I had no hankering to go to Japan. I think I told you Bishop wanted to ask for a transfer there, and many fellows express the same desire. Guys with low points, naturally. But even at that, I don’t want to get stuck over there, even if I would like to see the place now that there is no fighting. Many of the fellows dislike this climate, but I don’t consider it at all bad. If you could see me at this moment, that last statement would strike you as quite peculiar. Just as we were to change shifts a veritable cloudburst broke loose, the worse rainstorm I’ve seen on the Philippines. Since I had to go on duty, I had no choice but to go out into the storm. I’m now at the transmitter shack, sitting stark naked at the table while I try to dry out my clothes with the feeble heat of the filaments from the transmitters. Another lad is sitting across from me in more modest attire. He’s in his shorts and somehow managed to keep drier than I did. . . . Steve registered at the University for a Philosophy course. I may register for Anthropology later, but that all depends on where I get set up if I get a transfer to teach. . . . Now that censorship is lifted, I can tell you things about my trip. We sailed from San Francisco on the S.S. Luraline [sic], a former Matson luxury liner.110 My P.O.E. was Camp Stoneman at Pittsburg, California.111 I thought you might guess where my P.O.E. was because I once wrote about seeing a color projector at Pittsburg (without the “h”) that I was tempted to buy. Having been a former citizen of Pittsburgh Pa., however, I realized the clue was vague, indeed. Our liner was unescorted all the way. Even if I had been permitted to tell this, I doubt that I would have, for I believe it would have caused apprehension. But there apparently was no need for an escort because of the speed of the huge ship. The boat zig-zagged all the way across the Pacific, changing from a zig to a zag every eight minutes. It worked on the theory that it takes 8 minutes for a lurking sub to align its sights, and since a sub could never catch up to the ship, the thing was quite safe. Some of the boys told me it didn’t change its course at night, but I’m sure they were wrong, for I’d see the fixed stars shift from one side of the mast to the other. Radar was another protective device.

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As you know, we went passed Guadalcanal thru the Solomons group and our first stop was Finschafen, New Guinea. From there we went directly up to Manila. Our stop-over at Finschafen was one day. . . . I find now that it’s night that my present state of attire isn’t sufficient to keep me warm. My dog tags don’t cover enough of my body. I’ll have to put on my partially dried clothes, I guess. . . . Always with the greatest love

Frank.

★★★

FRD-CDD, 9 September 1945, Fort McKinley, Philippines My dearest, The above date with no intervening letters testifies to my negligence. For the past two days I hadn’t written a line. I think I told you in my last letter that I was to have two days free time. We work shifts that give us a 48 hr. break every fourth day. The last day of each shift period we work 18 hours at a stretch, consequently we get the next 48 off. It’s not a bad arrangement at all. I believe I also mentioned that I intended going up to Clark Field to see about a transfer as Social Science instructor in a new school they are starting there. Clark Field is only a few miles north of Angeles where we used to be stationed. Ed’s outfit is stationed a few miles south of Angeles, so the arrangement was quite nice. I not only got to see the old “home” town, but was able to stay overnight with Ed’s Ordnance Company. All in all, I had a wonderful holiday. Except for one thing, I learned. At Clark Field, my hopes for any immediate transfer plummeted. The lieutenant who was very desirous of having me on the staff gave me the news that the Fareastern Air Force expects to move to Japan soon. That’s us, that’s me! As yet, though, no one is sure what will happen to the 8th Fighter Control. Although we’re a part of FEAF, it is still possible that we will be retained here. But I have my doubts now. Considering my comparatively low points, I did not feel too sorry for myself. In fact, after thinking things over, I concluded I would like to go to Japan, for I’m sure any releases from the Army over there will be on the same point system, and I really doubt what I formerly contended, that going to Japan

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would more than likely keep a fellow overseas longer. The really most disappointing thing was the failure of the transfer to an academic field to materialize. If and when I should go to Japan, I’ll try for the same thing there. When I talk with the boys back here at camp, they strongly doubt we’ll go at all. I don’t know. I just have to resign myself again to the peculiar mercies of the Army. Speaking of points, while I was on my holiday, we had a re-computation of points. Although I haven’t gone over my scores with the lieutenant, I figure I’ll have 59 as of Sep’t. 2nd. Being one short of 60 may cost me a couple extra months over here. I get 8 for 4 more months over seas and 5 for the Luzon Campaign.112 As I see my prospects in the light of the points, here’s the way it looks to me: The longest I could stay in the Army would be Aug. of 1946. This is assuming that points will be re-computed every four months, but no change in the minimum discharge number. A year from now, I’d have 82 points. But it is probable that the critical score will drop. Assuming it may be reduced five points, every 2 months, then the earliest possible date of release for me would be January 1946. This assumes recomputation of scores again every 4 months[.] The true probabilities for me lie somewhere between January and August of next year. So I can figure on being on my way home in 5 to 12 months from now. How does that seem? I have much to tell you about my trip to Pompanga province. It took me about 4 hours to hitch-hike to Ed’s encampment. Luck was against me, and I spent much time standing by the roadside wagging my thumb. Once, several Negro soldiers picked me up and drove me a little way. They had recently arrived here from the European theater, and their comments on that area were quite interesting. They had been practically all over Europe as truck drivers. Their unanimous opinion about the various countries was that Germany was the best! Asked why, they said the German towns and people were the cleanest and most respectable. Although there was a non-fraternization order, apparently its enforcement was lax. They showed me snapshots of German girls and said a few German words they had learned. Their basis of judgement, oddly enough, was primarily on the cleanliness of the people. They didn’t like England because it was too dirty, although they thought the English people were swell. France was the most detested of all. The towns and cities were filthy and the people unpleasant. In good old G.I. terms, they explained how practically every girl you met in France is immoral and that gets tiresome when they are all like that! Yugoslavia and Czechoslovakia looked too poverty stricken. Holland was rather nice. Well, it took me 8 different rides to get to Ed’s place. My coming was a surprise to him, and it happened on a day the outfit was preparing for a sort of farewell party that evening. They are moving out to San Jose [probably on

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Mindoro, Philippines] in a day or two. Ed was on the decoration committee for the party, so while he decorated I went down to Clark Field, which was my primary reason for my mission to Pompanga. On the way back, I stopped over at Angeles, visited Vlademir’s aunt (Vlademir was still in school). . . . Back at Ed’s I ate supper with the company, then Ed and I took a long tramp out over rice paddies and along the bamboo groves. We watched a sunset that looked startlingly like the Japanese symbolic rising sun! Huge red streamers shot out across the sky. Ed and I laughed. We thought it may be something portentous. That evening I went to the party with Ed, consumed considerable quantities of liquor and finally to bed in a sort of alcoholic stupor. But in the morning both Ed and I felt perfectly fine. After breakfast we set out for Mt. Arayat, the sight of which had been a challenge to us ever since we had first come to the province. It is an isolated extinct volcanic mountain that rises 3,000 feet out of a level plain. It’s aloofness from any mountains or even hills gives it its characteristic grandeur and magnificence. A veil of clouds always hangs about its truncated top. By rough, isolated and seldom travelled roads we finally arrived at the mountain’s base. The whole area is a National Park, and we found beautifully parked grounds with a large swimming pool fed by the mountain stream. We never did climb the mountain. The refreshing coolness of the water and its crystal clearness was enough to occupy us until it was time to start back. We had arrived there just about noon, and never in my Army experience did I feel so away from G.I’s and the Army. There just wasn’t anyone or anything to see to remind us of being G.I’s. A little latter, however, some G.I’s came in to swim, but this was fortunate, for we didn’t know how we’d ever get back to civilization again. We had a devil of a time getting rides to the place. By the time we got back to the Ordnance base, we were hungry, for we had swum most of the day and hadn’t eaten dinner. Supper was welcome and shortly after that, I started on my way back to Manila. Returning, I was fortunate. At San Fernando a Captain picked me up and drove me all the way into the heart of the city. . . . That drive through the evening to Manila was of indescribable beauty. The rice paddies now have lost most of their geometric patterns for the grain has grown high and appears like a great light green velvet carpet. I suppose you’ve seen it in Arkansas before it is ready to be harvested. Here, it makes a glorious landscape with the darker bamboo groves adding contrast and the picturesque native huts scattered about on the scene like toy houses. The natives themselves with their umbrella like grass hats as they work in the fields add a charm that seems to make their lives enviable.

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I got back to Manila in time to go to my classes at the Philippine Institute; then “home” to bed quite tired and exhausted. . . . Sweetheart, I dread waiting out these months till we’ll see each other again—you and Sally Lou and I. The Philippines are wonderful—I do like it here, but if only our little family weren’t separated. Maybe the three of us will see these islands together sometime. I’d love it. A million kisses to the nth power to both of you, my beloveds. Always your own Frank.

★★★

FRD-CDD, 15 September 1945, Fort McKinley, Philippines My darling, I’m on duty at the transmitter shack. Behind me are five of our BC 640 transmitters, the kind I taught at Tomah.113 They are turned on ready for transmission but are seldom used since the end of the war; consequently, they require little or no attention. As a matter of fact, these transmitters are so well built they are almost fool proof. When we were teaching at Tomah we always wondered how these pets of ours would stand up under conditions on the line. They perform better than even the wildest imagination would dream. It is equipment like this that has made America’s war effort so tremendous a potential. Certainly one can’t say the same of Army administration. In other words, the laboratories of the big corporations like Bendix Radio, for instance, are as much responsible for winning the war as the Armed Forces themselves.114 I’m convinced of this. They built equipment that was almost fool-proof, and with a wide margin of safety with the realization that indifferent or incompetent operators would be at the controls frequently. My duties are indeed few now. Daily for six hours I come out [to] the the [sic] transmitter shack, check over the transmitters, then sit down to write, read or play chess with a comrade who comes out with me to check and watch a different type of equipment. My schedule changes each day. For instance, Monday I will come out in the morning at seven and remain till noon. Tuesday I will come at noon and

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remain till five. Wednesday I come out at five in the evening and return for breakfast on Thursday morning. We have cots here for our all night “vigil.” Following this long shift we get two full days off, then the same routine repeats itself. That gives you an idea of the order of my days and weeks. The arrangement of this schedule gives me plenty of free time, but even at that I don’t always use it to best advantage. Witness my occasional omissions of letters to you.

Al hadn’t written me at all about his ideas of the peace. In fact, I haven’t heard from him since the capitulation of Japan. I found the quotations from his letter quite interesting. The last letter I got from him was devoted mostly to Mexicans he had met working on the railroad and his efforts to learn Spanish from them. While I agree with Al in some points, I do believe he ignores realities. Most important, he ignores that fallibility of mankind. I’ll grant that the Chamberlain115 and Daladier116 governments were much responsible for the rise of Hitler to such a potential threat. After that huge blunder was made, there seems to me to have been nothing left to do but fight. The exposé of the treatment of minorities and dissenters in Germany seems to be ample proof of this. After reading Davies’ Mission to Moscow, I am convinced that Roosevelt and Stalin were doing everything in their power to forestall what they knew was inevitable if Britain continued its policies of appeasement.117 The amazing thing about it is that Britain didn’t yield even with the pressure of the United States’ and Soviet Union’s warnings. So Al was flattered by the photograph of his youngest niece. I don’t see how he could have been other than pleased with it. Those pictures are my pride and joy. . . . Your devoted

Frank

★★★

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FRD-CDD, 16 September 1945, Fort McKinley, Philippines My darling wife, I’m working at the Transmitter shack again. The din of the rain on the tin roof above is so loud it threatens to drown out the very words I write. To talk to Schaeffer, sitting immediately opposite me at the table, I have to almost shout. We have long ago learned to accept these sudden tropical downpours as a matter of course. This time, fortunately, I wasn’t caught outside in it, so I don’t have to sit nude as I write while my clothes dry out. I came on duty at five this evening and will bed myself down for the night here at the shack. Tomorrow will be the beginning of another two-day holiday. I have no plans. Having had most of this Sunday off, I convinced Steve he should go swimming in the ocean. Although Steve is often annoyingly lethargic, he couldn’t resist this temptation, for he is an ardent surf bather from New England. So at ten o’clock this morning the two of us set out for Cavite beach.118 Knowing that we were sacrificing our Sunday dinner we armed ourselves with two oranges, some candy and cookies. The bathing was perfect as you might guess it would be for me under any circumstances. Steve taught me how to ride the breakers, and time and time again we hurled ourselves at the crest of a wave and let it wash us with a roar toward the shore. It was great, but I was wishing it had been a picnic with you and Sally Lou. Steve voiced the same desire, except that he was thinking of a certain girl and a certain beach in New England. Swimming and riding the surf made me ravenous and our one orange and bits of candy seemed pitifully inadequate. A picnic dinner would have only sufficed. I felt I should walk off the beach to our Chevie, pull out blankets and baskets full of goodies and an ice cold drink. Mirages like this make Army life seem bitter even in the happiest moments. I got back to camp in time to take a shower before an early supper, then report to duty. I’m tired and feel sun-baked, although the sun was never strong because of clouds. But my eyes are blinking from fatigue and the sting of the salt. It’s the kind of a fatigue I enjoy, however, and I look forward to a sound sleep with the rain tatooing on the roof. Oddly enough, yesterday when I returned from duty, your letter of Aug. 25th had arrived. . . . Yes, I am a few miles closer home in the sense that I’m nearer the port for debarkation. But that same harbor can be the road to Japan. Actually, I know of no further news on this score, and I’m now inclined to believe that we may

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not go at all as forces of occupation. I suspect we’ll stay here, or our outfit will be broken up and each individual will be at the mercy of some merciless logic. As long as there is such uncertainty, it seems hopeless that I’ll ever get transferred to a teaching job. It’s only time that matters now, the days, the hours, minutes and seconds—all slow and inexorable. Replacement depots over here are jamming up with returnees who have been sweating out weeks of waiting. Apparently, ships aren’t available to get them out as fast as the point system has alotted (Sp?). You asked why we were transferred to the Manila area. Well, since fighter planes have such a limited range our outfit up at Angeles became less and less important after Okinawa was taken and fighter planes could be launched from there. The next logical move for us would have been Okinawa, too, but there the strange finger of fate entered again. Instead of our going on, another Fighter Control group went. I think it was the one idle at Clark Field where many of the Tomah boys who came over with me were stationed. The 8th Fighter Control Squadron is the oldest in the Pacific area, and possibly for that reason a younger group (less points) was sent. Therefore, we were transferred to the Air Defense Command which was to become a permanent peacetime command for the defense of the Philippines. In regard to the Music Lovers’ Handbook, don’t mail unless you’ve already bought another. I don’t think it will be practical to have. I know I must confuse you terribly. There’s a peculiar psychology about wanting things from home. I find it true with almost every soldier, and I’m no exception. When he first arrives he thinks of myriads of things he wants sent, short of the home itself mailed board by board. Then he gradually finds himself adjusting to the lack of things he was used to, and he can think of nothing at all he needs or wants, yet when a package from home arrives, he is delighted. Yes, sweetheart, you are right about Sally Lou. It would be wrong to think or hope that she might be some sort of a prodigy. I suppose my question as to whether she showed an inclination to like music implied that hope. Actually, I don’t think I meant it that way. As you say, she is only 10 months old anyway and it will be inevitable that she shall love good music. . . . I should write a letter to Dad now. Although I haven’t had an answer from him for a long time, still I feel I owe him a letter. So I’ll close, my dearest. . . . Always yours Frank.

★★★

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FRD-CDD, 19 or 20 September 1945, Fort McKinley, Philippines My beloved, It was strange about the letter I wrote chastising you regarding the news you had sent of the atomic bomb.119 As I wrote it, I thought nothing of it. The atomic bomb seemed to have eclipsed all my sensibility. It wasn’t until I had deposited the letter in the mail that I began to re-consider what I had written, and the more I thought about it, the more I became haunted by my deed. I remembered that I had received the first news of the bomb with doubts and suspicions of exaggeration. Had I written a letter those first few hours of the news, I, too, would have treated the matter lightly, as though some fantastic hoax were being perpetrated. . . . This is my regular letter-writing hour with the transmitters behind me and Schaeffer sitting across the table from me also writing a letter. The shack is on a hill surrounded by lower rolling hills. The front and rear of the shack are open across the width about four feet above the floor. It is like a long window, except mosquito netting replaces glass. Both these elongated apertures in the building present picturesque panoramas like old fashioned Currier [&] Ives prints enlarged to mural proportions. To the front there is a tremendous view extending to the far off bay that blends imperceptibly with the sky. The lower hills in the foreground are splotched with the light spring-like green of the bamboo clumps and far beyond, from the extreme left to right stretches the city of Manila neatly arranged on the flat plain. The roofs of houses, tall buildings, the spires of churches catch the sunlight and make the whole view stand out with a certain unreality. I like it. The rear view offers a contrast that might have been planned by an interior decorator. Except for an Army camp on a nearby hill at the right, the scene is distinctly pastoral. Nearby are a few rice paddies where several natives work with their huge umbrella-like, straw hats to protect them from the sun. One follows a carabao behind a primitive plow. Others are bent over weeding or planting. At the left of the scene their native village of thatched houses is clustered among banana trees. In the distance are the mountains in purples and blues, their summits surrounded by clouds that seem to extend their loftiness on up into the sky. I wish I were a painter, but I fear even the best master would only make a travesty of the scene.

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I have about an hour left of my vigil, so I’ll spend it reading Wild is the River. I’ve almost finished it. . . .120 Forever your own devoted husband

Frank

★★★

FRD-CDD, 25 September 1945, Fort McKinley, Philippines My beloved, . . . After dinner we went in a truck to Tarlac, about five miles away [from San Miguel, where Frank and Ed were visiting]. It was to be a big day in this provisional capital city, for there was scheduled a belated V-J Day parade and celebration. . . . Back in town [Tarlac] again, we watched the parade with great amusement. The simplicity and naive efforts all the country bumpkins for miles around exerted to make floats for the occasion seemed like a last century celebration might have been in Emporia, Kansas. There were ox-carts, karratellas, jeeps, and Army trucks all decorated lavishly and some very hideously. They rumbled slowly past the reviewing stand where sat a one star general and a host of other lesser dignitaries. To the townspeople and country folk, the whole affair was very exciting. For that matter, I enjoyed it myself from a detached point of view. . . . Your recent letters came in such a disarranged chronological order that I didn’t get the excitement of the announcement of Sally Lou’s first steps because I had read of it casually in letters written later than the original letter of rejoicing. I was aware of the significance but I hadn’t appreciated how exciting and wonderful it was until I read: “This is the day we’ve waited for. . . .” [ellipses in original]. I feel so very happy and as you say, I do hate to have to be denied seeing Sally Lou’s development, still I have a mighty good picture of everything from all your letters. It has been a sacrifice, no doubt about that, but still I’m very glad I did come overseas. I think Sally Lou will be glad, too, when I can tell her

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things for years about these islands and peoples. Yes, she’ll be running to meet me when I come home. I’m glad, too, that your cold is better and that our little daughter didn’t catch it. She seems to be a healthy rascal, isn’t she? She’s all we could ever have asked for. I long to hold her and feel her soft hair against my chin again. All my love, my darlings; I never will cease missing you. Forever your devoted husband Frank

★★★

CDD-FRD, 28 September 1945, [Altheimer, Arkansas] My darling, Yesterday passed without my writing you. Right after supper Dick, Dot, & I drove to P.B. [Pine Bluff] in the truck to see the movie “You Came Along.”121 We first went to Betty’s where we waited for her to come along to the show with us. . . .122 The movie was very good—not quite as well done as “Since You Went Away” but it too was a very sad story without being sloppy. It wrung tears from my eyes, . . . I’ve been so “hepped up” over your getting home soon, but tonight I feel that maybe your hopes for April are more nearly correct. For the news tonight is that shipping quotas are filled for the next four months with 725,000 high point men, & that shipping will be available in Feb., Mar., & April for 765,000 others who are expected to be eligible by then. That, I fear, lets us out ’til spring. Moving the troops home is certainly a gigantic task. I wish I could fly over & get you! . . . She’s walking better everyday, but she’d still rather crawl, for she progresses much more rapidly. And how dirty she gets! She doesn’t wet so many diapers anymore, but my washing is hardly lighter, for now they get black with dirt, which means much more scrubbing. And her socks get filthy dirty. It’s seldom that she gets by with less than three baths a day. What I can hardly understand is where all the dirt comes from. Even just after the porch has been washed & scrubbed, I put her down & soon her hands & knees are dirty. As she gets to walking better she won’t get quite so dirty.

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I’ve been lax in teaching her to drink from a cup or glass, & now she’s nearly a year old and should be graduated from nursing bottles. It’s a mistake I hadn’t realized I was making. I do give her water from a cup, but she rarely wants it and after one or two swallows (which usually sort of strangle her), she begins to blow bubbles & drool. Not taking orange juice has been a handicap to her learning. I’m going to devote some concentrated effort for a few weeks. I’ve had to punish her a few times lately & it’s nearly broken both our hearts. She developed the habit of blowing & spitting her food out of her mouth when she’s had all she wants. I couldn’t stand it. Spanking her hands means “pat-a-cake” to her, & as it happens when she’s sitting in her high chair & I couldn’t get to her fanny, I resorted to barely tapping her cheek. Although I know I couldn’t have hurt her the least bit, I suppose she associates my expression of displeasure with the tap, & she knew she was being punished. Her expression nearly kills me, but strangely enough she’s practically cured of that & of tearing toilet paper. I only hope each time will be the last punishment, though I know there are many yet to come. But then her daddy will soon be here to give her all the spankings she needs. Being a parent has its trials & tribulations. I remember once when Father spanked Dot, the whole family practically threw him out. Well, my darling, this is enough chatter for tonight. I wish this were April & you were home. I miss you more & more. Mother asks me to send her love to you & tell you she’s anxious for you to get back. I’m always loving you. Kisses galore from Sally Lou and me. Your devoted wife,

Chris

★★★

FRD-AGD, 30 September 1945, Fort McKinley, Philippines Dear Al, Your long awaited letter came at last—quite inadequate, but none the less welcome and interesting. . . . . . . That’s the second time I had Chris’ letter mixed up with someone else’s. First, it was Ed, and then you. Your reactions were entertaining. Your

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brazen admission that you read the letter and enjoyed it is excellent, my boy, excellent. As a matter of fact, I would have done the same thing with the rationalization that the error was the sender’s fault. Chris has had enough finesse and dignity not to have admitted she read yours. Whether she did or not, I don’t know. I hope she did, although I can’t remember what I had written in either of those letters. There is no one to whom I write in greater detail than to Christine and I’m sure all the “informative” and detailed facts in your letter had been hashed over in many letters previous to the one I had sent you. As a matter of truth, I’m sure your letter suffered more from omissions rather than being burdened with great detail, for I couldn’t have possibly covered much in one letter. Be that as it may, it was interesting to compare the two, I’m sure. Yes, both Chris and I had a fear I might go to Japan. No, I did not want to go, most definitely, for I thought that would jeopardize my chances of getting home sooner. Furthermore, I like it here on the Philippines and to see the Japanese under the heel of the military hierarchy isn’t exactly what I’d consider interesting from a pleasant or entertaining point of view. However, since the point system of discharge will be used for the occupation forces as elsewhere, I have felt more willing to go to Japan. I doubt now that I will. . . . While your condemnation of the peace is somewhat justifiable, I do think we have made a few strides better than we did following the last war. The difficulty is that the world problems are so much greater that any advance we have made is comparatively futile and puny. By the same token, I consider Christianity such a dismal failure that I would be no more willing to risk world security and peace to it than I would to the militarists, notwithstanding the basic differences in philosophies. I view the Social Sciences as our only hope. The scientific application of Sociology, Political Science, Economics, Psychology and Psychiatry is our only way out. The cultural lag is so enormous that the task looks well nigh impossible. The best we can do is try and if civilization sinks to oblivion at least some of us fought for her. Let the insects take over! The fearful hoax of God will have been ended. It’s strange that many times of late I had been thinking of that Hutterite colony in Iowa we missed, and was wondering what it was we might have seen.123 Then came your letter with some interesting (though brief ) comments on a similar colony. The important point is to try to analyze why such colonies did not take root and become widespread. What are your explanations? I have some I could offer, but I’ll reserve them for the next letter—if you ever answer this one. I told you I had been seeing Ed [Dobroski]. I don’t think I have written you since I transferred to Fort McKinley, near Manila. Previously, I had been

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stationed at Angeles about 55 miles north of Manila. Ed was encamped about 7 miles from me. But within the last couple months I moved south and he went north to San Miguel near Tarlac. However, we still manage to see each other occasionally. Last week I hitch-hiked the 85 miles and spent two days with him.124 We had some wonderful times together. The first evening we went out on a glorious drunk—it was rot-gut whisky of some sort. We had taken a long walk in the splendor of a tropical sunset. Finally, after passing along a beautiful country road lined on one side with pine trees and rice paddies and sugar cane fields stretching out on the plain as far as the eye could see, we came to a small town of Centron located near a sugar mill. The town was a company town of benevolent and paternalistic capitalism. Notwithstanding, it had its merits, for it was far better off than the typical Filipino village. The houses were well constructed and well kept up. In addition, there was electricity[,] running water and sanitary facilities—things practically unknown over here except in the cities and larger towns. Rain chased us into a local café, so Ed and I sat drinking our rot-gut [Paniqui whiskey] and talking with our attractive and rather intelligent waitress. A painted young whore flitted around from table to table trying to drum up business with her moronic expressions and absurd childish giggling. We had almost finished our first bottle when the hostess invited us into their dining room. Neither Ed nor I knew at first what the fuck was happening, but we went and found ourselves seated at a long dining table with a supper of thick chicken soup [and rolls and preserved pears] served. It was an interesting gathering. Ed and I and another G.I., three Aussies and four Filipino lads. When I inquired why the banquet, I learned it was a celebration of the death of the proprietor’s wife. The Filipinos banquet on the 3rd and ninth days following the death. This was the 9th day celebration. Ed was in a glow from the liquor but he managed himself admirably. After the dinner we returned to our table at the café for some more dissapation. At last the place closed up for fear of the MP’s and Ed and I started our several mile stagger “home.” We wobbled down the road sing[ing] at the tops of our lungs: Moorsoldaten, The Deacon Went Down, Gloria and Kyrie (tunes Ed learned as an alter boy, you’ll remember)[.]125 The road led along a stream and it was at midnight by the light of a full moon we decided to go in swimming “as a sobering influence.” So we stripped and thrashed around in the cooling water—at the expense of my wrist watch. I had forgotten to take it off. Finally we reached our sacks and fell off to sleep in a whirl. Sunday morning when we awoke the sun was shining like a New Mexican day. Ed and I had a long morning hike up into the foothills of the nearby mountains. In the afternoon we went down to Tarlac where the natives were

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holding a belated V-J Day celebration. It was here that we had the inclosed photograph taken. After a swim in the Tarlac river, I started my long trip back to Manila. Tell me, how many points have you? I thought you'd be discharged by now. What do you intend doing? Beatrice? I got a letter from U.N.R.R.A.—30,000 applications, only 1300 jobs available—no hope! Received a letter from Dad today—nothing special or new. Haven't heard from Grace. Bruno is still recovering at the Army hospital.126 That's all Kisses from Sally Lou Frank ★★★

FRD-CDD, 12 October 1945, Fort McKinley, Philippines My darling, . . . You discussed the point system in that letter, and made some good observations. It is true that the fellow who worked hard in the States and suffered “chicken” for a long time becomes penalized for no fault of his own. If you’ll remember, it was the incompetents who were always being relieved of their duties to be sent overseas (from the Tech. Training Com., I mean). Now their incompetence is proving a boon to them. Regardless, I’m not kicking too much. I think, on the whole, I have been mighty lucky. Did you know I got one battle star—the Luzon campaign.127 I am convinced the winning of these stars in nine cases out of ten is a total farce, so don’t become flabbergasted when you see a returnee with stars plastered all over him, unless he is an infantryman. In talking with sailors over here, I learn that battle stars in the Navy were given out even more indiscriminately than in the Army. Perhaps Ralph or Dick will verify this, although I certainly don’t want to depreciate their own stars if they’ve earned them. I suspect either yesterday’s letter or this one will arrive on Sally Lou’s birthday. At any rate, I’m going to send Happy Birthday greetings in this as well. Seems incredible a year is already past—and what a year! I hate missing her first birthday. Will it be a party? One little candle in a cake? Give her a tender love pinch for me—just one for one year old.

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Happy birthday, Sally Lou! For your next one, Daddy will be home. Be a good girl, don’t eat too much ice cream and be a good little hostess to your guests on your birthday. Happy birthday, my beloved daughter! Someday soon you and mother and I will go on picnics together and watch the sunsets and the peeping stars. Daddy longs to hold you and have you kiss him. I love you so very much. And you, too, my darling wife. Forever and always. It will be good to see the Spring together and start our new life of peace. Your loving husband Frank

★★★

CDD-FRD, 20 October 1945, [Altheimer, Arkansas] My darling, I used the last of my fancy stationary last nite, & there seems to be none in the house. This lined stuff is from my cook book. I forgot to mention last night that I was invited to a bridge party today at Josephine MacMillan’s. . . .128 We had quite a nice time, although I held rotten hands. Josephine’s home is so nice, and the plate was delicious, so I enjoyed the party in spite of the “lousy” luck I had. . . . Just a few minutes ago I removed two birthday cakes from the oven. Mother baked an angel food for Sally Lou’s party, & I used the egg yolks to make a yellow cake—which we may need to supplement the other. (The trouble with having babies at parties, each one has to bring his mamma!) The cakes look like they are a success. I only wish you were here, darling, to celebrate with us tomorrow. Next year & all the birthdays after that we’ll have together. A year ago right now I was in labor for Sally Lou. It seems so remote now. So much has happened the past year. Sally Lou has learned so much. So have I, for that matter! I know I didn’t know how to love her when first I saw her. She was precious then—but I know the first thing I said was, “She’s so dark!” She did look like a Mexican or an Indian.

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Sat. Nite—Sally Lou's birthday I’m so sorry I couldn’t finish this last nite nor this morning. Sally Lou woke up and after three attempts to rock her to sleep I had to give up & go to bed with her. She then remained awake another hour, I’d guess. I can't for the life of me figure why it’s happening every single night. Then this morning I had all I could do to get ready for the party, and could never sit down long enough to even sign my name to what I’d written last night. I did have time to read your good long letter of Oct. 11. And best of all, Sally Lou’s birthday card arrived this morning! It almost made me cry! It’s so cute, darling, and I shall save it for Sally Lou. She loved the “oo-cow” [the cow that Frank sketched in a previous letter] on it—tho’ Father says it's an Arkansas Razorback—and knew her daddy sent her the letter. Well, the party’s all over, and Sally Lou is now one yr and 15 hrs old. She’s had a very very happy day, and I do wish you could have seen her every antic. Never has she been cuter nor shown more excitement. She really acted the part! Unfortunately two or three of her guests arrived before I'd given the finishing touches to her toilet—(pinning her hair back with a ribbon)— & they (Freddie & Ann) came into the bedroom before Sally Lou could get out.129 She was simply delighted & actually shouted with laughter. I then put her down & she toddled into the living room alone. Others had come in the meantime, & when she beheld them, she clenched her little fists, her eyes danced, & she squealed again with joy. She wanted to hug each one, accepted their presents, but was much more interested in the child than the gift. She did look so precious in the new dress I bought her in Little Rock. It was too big originally, but Mother altered it to fit her. It’s aqua blue soft material, with lace trimming around the collar & down the center front. She wore socks to match the dress, her white shoes, & a pink bow in her hair—Also her necklace with two new pearls added—one from Daddy & one from Mommy. The birthday table was lovely. I used our lace tablecloth (a wedding gift) & in the center on a tall crystal cake stand was the beautiful white cake with a white gardenia from Noni’s garden & one candle in the center. Around the front of the stand was a circle arrangement of yellow daisies. And around the table were fourteen tall brightly colored paper horns—favors for the guests. It really was a pretty table, and the children were quite excited. They all ate plenty of cream & cake, & played & romped merrily ’til about 5:00. I always hated the idea of having birthday parties, for it definitely means bringing a gift. If only I could have added to the invitation “don’t bring a present!” But actually I know the children in Altheimer anxiously await each other’s birthday parties and would have been disappointed if Sally Lou hadn’t had one. All the others have & Sally Lou has taken gifts, so I shouldn't feel badly. . . .

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I was amazed as I started unwrapping gifts to find such lovely things [a book, silk coat hangers, pearls, dress material, socks, slippers, mittens, a pink dress and sweater, bubble bath, a gold necklace and bracelet, and defense stamps]. And it seemed funny she got not one single toy. I was really glad of it, for actually Sally Lou doesn’t care too much for toys. She likes the boxes & papers they come in better. Furthermore she has scads of toys & doesn’t need any more. . . . My darling, I missed you so today, & thought over & over how you’d have loved seeing Sally Lou in her great happiness. I’d not half realized what the party would mean to her. She’s a million times sweeter than ever—I know you’ll be so proud of her. I hardly see how I can wait the rest of the time out, for I seem to grow more impatient each day. I love you so dearly, sweetheart. Your devoted wife, Chris’

★★★

FRD-CDD, 30 October 1945, Fort McKinley, Philippines My dear wife, Two good letters came today; best of all, the one telling me of Sally Lou’s first birthday. It seemed a long time awaiting that letter. Never were any of my own or others’ birthdays more significant. If unseen, you could have watched me read that letter, you would have seen me smile innumerable times, chuckle occasionally and even laugh outright. And, too, you would have seen a lump come to my throat as I swallowed hard. I suffered a peculiar contradiction of feelings—joy because of the happiness of the occasion and an awful feeling of deprivation. Your description of the party was perfect and made me feel so proud of Sally Lou. I assume she acted the perfect hostess with a lot of enthusiasm to spare. How I long to see her as she toddles. . . .

I, too, am amazed that the Aerosol bombs cost almost $4.00. We use them over here as though they were ten cent articles. It's just a tiny example of why

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the cost of the war is so great. But even at whatever the government pays for them, they are certainly worth their salt. I have never seen anything quite so effective for killing mosquitoes. Some types of harmless bugs it doesn't seem to affect, but it eradicates mosquitoes in no time, and has undoubtedly been responsible for prevention of many malaria cases. I don’t think I told you the Aerosol bomb killed my last praying mantis I had captured. One of the boys in the tent didn’t like the looks of the beastly bug and he threatened to spray it with Aerosol. The first night I had the pet, I was on all-night duty at transmitters and when I came back to the tent in the morning, old "manty" was stiff and as dead as a door nail. I’m glad you got a cigarette lighter and I hope you have sent it air mail. Half the time I’m frantically either trying to get my lighter lit or pestering someone for a light. It’s still too damp for matches to be serviceable most of the time. Besides, they’re often hard to get. . . . Most of the afternoon I spent on my sack reading a couple New Yorkers and a September Time. Much of the material I read was on the atomic bomb. One of the New Yorkers was devoted almost exclusively to that subject. Then oddly enough, around 3:30 came your letter with further comments on atomic energy. The subject fascinated me, and I devour every printed or written word I see on it. Of course, it’s the social implications that interest me. You are right, I fear, about the general public being unaware of the significance of the bomb. A good and intelligent statement by one of the leading scientists I read was that now scientists have given the bomb to government, government itself has become one of the responsibilities of scientists as well as consideration of common people. He was assailing the tendency of scientists to live in intellectual isolation. While I agree with Al’s principle of brotherly love, I think he is barking up a phantom tree. For almost two thousand years Christianity has been trying the same thing, and it has failed miserably. Only when Christians recognize this frightful failure will there be any hope for a true brotherhood of man. I know the stock answer of the conscientious objector and many Christians who aren’t conscientious objectors is that Christianity has never been given a chance by being put into practice. Too true, and my contention is that it has been too unrealistic to be practicable. I am convinced that might alone will weld the world into a brotherhood. It’s a peculiar paradox, an ugly one. When there is only one universal power, be it American, Russian or a close coalition of nations, then only will Christianity have its true chance to flower, and then the teachings of Christ will submit to practical application. Might and power will gradually diminish merely because it will no longer have a function; there will be no use for it. It is for this future day—and not too distant, at that—that the fundamental teachings of Christ must be preserved. Otherwise, I would see no sense in supporting our faith any longer. . . .

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Sweetheart, I too grieve that I can’t be with you and Sally Lou. Your letters are the best substitute. They are more than I could ever ask for. . . . Always your devoted husband

Frank.

★★★

FRD-CDD, 6 November 1945, Fort McKinley, Philippines My dearest, No letter for you yesterday, although I have but a feeble excuse for not writing. It’s peculiar how I can have so much leisure time and seemingly accomplish nothing. I went to the opera last night, and since I usually write you in the evening, my time ordinarilly alotted (I can never spell that word) for letter-writing was consumed by an unusual pleasure. . . . Never in my life have I witnessed days drift by so utterly meaningless. Strangely enough, I am happy this way except for occasional regrets when I begin to contemplate the futility of this sort of life. I resign myself to a comfortable lethargy that fits me in snug with the conventional patterns of Army life. . . . I got your May 24th letter today, the one that had been returned to you. It was interesting reading what seems to be old history now, especially in regard to Sally Lou. Concerning my pictures, you had written you received the proofs and later told me many times of Sally Lou “kissing” my picture or looking at it when she was asked w[h]ere’s Daddy, so I really never thought of any indifference on your part. . . . Man alive, there’s nothing I’d like better than to have Sally Lou a good singer. Of course, I wouldn’t be disappointed if she weren’t. I’m fairly confident that she’ll at least learn to play the piano or some other instrument. And even if she fails in this, what of it? I simply can’t support the cynicism of one of my old English profs who insisted raising children was a great disillusionment. It seems impossible to me now, for the joy Sally Lou has already given us in her short life seems sufficient enough to allay any disillusionment. Darling, this letter must be a sight of incoherency. The difficulties I have been writing under were almost insurmountable. Brown and Smith have been

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pouring cups full of water down my back and in my pants. Then Smith offers me a nip of whiskey and after many protests and counter-persuasion I went to take a sip to placate the lad; but when I had the bottle up to my mouth, he held it there, forcing a geyser of whiskey to drain into me. On top of these monstrous doings, Kubicek has been sitting near me talking at me half the time. So I’ll call it quits. . . . Always your own

Frank

★★★

FRD-CDD, 7 November 1945, Fort McKinley, Philippines My dearest, I put in some constructive work today for a change, going on duty this morning to work on a couple transmitters. Even this afternoon I did a little work sorting radio tubes. I honestly feel better when I do some work, no matter how little. I’m convinced the constant grind we instructors endured with the Technical Training Command was not normal to the Army. I don’t regret the experience, however, although I’d hate to go through some of it again. . . . Sunday night, after I came back from Clark Field I found a stranger moved in next to my bunk. He was a Staff Sergeant. I said nothing, but sat down and wrote a letter to you. When I was through I lay back on my bunk and noticed a small, unfamiliar flag waving from the shelf. “What’s that flag?” I asked the new barracks mate. I thought it must be some allied flag he had picked up in some of his campaigns. “You mean you never saw that flag? You don’t know what it is?” “No,” I answered, “I don’t remember seeing it.” “It’s the flag of the Confederacy,” he said in a deep Southern drawl. That was my introduction to Sergeant Hobson. But here’s the amazing thing. He was quite familiar with Altheimer, or at least knew that it existed. In fact, he knew one of the teachers at Altheimer School, but I’ve forgotten the teachers name. I’ll ask him again next time I see him. The teacher was a man— an English teacher, I believe.

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The Sergeant’s father owns a plantation near Stuttgart [Arkansas]. In a way, he is a queer chap, living decidedly in the past glories of the pre-Civil War days. He will talk for hours about the South, and has plagued Webb to death. Webb is a Southerner from Tennessee but much more level-headed. I told Webb I thought Hobson represented one of the last vestiges of Southern Aristocracy and Webb agreed and even said he had told Hobson that himself. Hobson is such an old die-hard he is convinced that the trend for the South to be industrialized is a bad thing for the South. I can’t imagine what the basis of his argument is except blind worship of tradition. Naturally, I sensed Hobson’s aristocratic bearing and attitudes immediately. I asked him if he were related to the Hobsons of Clarksdale, Mississippi who run the famous Hobson Plantation. He said he was, distantly. I told him I was too, as an in-law. I swear I don’t know exactly what the relationship is— some cousin’s cousin’s cousin of my wife or something, I guess. But I didn’t go into any such details. It was sufficient for Hobson that I married a Southern girl and am somehow related to the Hobsons. Of course, he cuts a ridiculous figure, this Hobson. I believe he has a persecution complex and has built up an elaborate defense for his cherished traditions. He was educated at the University of Tennessee. Did he take engineering? Lord now [no], Liberal Arts, he says with much affectation. He’s slightly effeminate, and places much emphasis on a good education and a good fraternity. He knows people around Pine Bluff and Little Rock, and I wouldn’t doubt that you and he would know someone in common. In spite of these things, though, he seems a clean cut, likeable chap. Or is it the leveling of the Army life that makes divergent personalities more readily acceptable? I was going to go to the Symphony Concert tonight with some of the fellows, but it has poured all afternoon and it still is too threatening. It would be all right if we didn’t have to rely on the uncertainties of hitch-hiking. The weather is still almost as wet as the rainy season, although the dry season was supposed to have begun in October. Yesterday, Kubicek and I each washed one of our blankets under the shower bath, but everytime they get about half dry, it rains on them again. We lay our blankets out on the floor of the shower, rubbed them well with G.I. soap and scrubbed them up and down with a broom. Quite a system. It’s the first washing my blankets got since I left Kearns [Utah]. I could scarcely sleep with myself anymore. No letters today, but I have thought of you and Sally Lou nonetheless. I try to think often what you might be doing at this or that hour. But most of the time when I figure it out you are sleeping. Then I try to visualize the two of you. Sally Lou’s red curly top, hazel eyes (?) the covers tucked up around her, her pretty hands out of the covers. And mommy maybe lying nearby. Maybe her hair is up in pretzels, or might be it is flowing in a sparkle of amber down on the covers. I wish I were with you.

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Sweetheart, I love you every minute of the day and night. I feel more and more confident I will be seeing you sooner than March. Probably I’ll be on the high seas at Christmas. I will be satisfied. All my love always. I’m yours forever Frank. ★★★

FRD-CDD, 8 October [actually November] 1945, Fort McKinley, Philippines My sweet wife, I wish I could put two airmail stamps on this letter and double its speed to you. I was sitting in the barrack chatting with the boys when the mail clerk came by and dropped a package in my lap. . . . I ripped it open anxiously and found everything [including the camera and cigarette lighter] in good shape. . . . Now I’m anxious to get some pictures. . . . At this point I abandoned the letter temporarily to go to the show. It was Heddy [sic] Lamarr and Robert Walker in “The Princess and the Bellboy [sic].”130 It’s an excellent film, an extravagant comedy. By all means see it if you get a chance. The photography, settings and acting are beyond criticism and the story is a breezy one with clever comedy. Since being overseas I have become a chronic movie goer, and most of the time I force myself to sit through the stupidest shows. These mysteries Hollywood grinds out are appalling, and someone gets the bright idea that those are about the only things we soldiers want to see. Night after night the boys come away from the theater in utter disgust. I tend to be more critical than the average, to be sure, but the films foisted on us most of the time are so poor that almost none of us like them. Yet we go back to the show for want of something else to do and with a faint hope that maybe something good will turn up. Tonight, at long last, we got a pleasant surprise. . . . Always your own Frank ★★★

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FRD-CDD, 14 November 1945, Fort McKinley, Philippines My dearest wife, . . . I suppose I’ll be giving you the sad story of WAITING day after day. There’s really no big news, not even rumors; but at least tomorrow all we 60-point men are scheduled to have our influenza shots. All returning veterans are required to have these. So that’s one more step toward the prolonged process of discharge. We are also to sign the payroll tomorrow. Whether that means we’ll be here to collect at the end of the month, I don’t know, nor does anyone else. It’s anybody’s guess when we’ll leave, and when we do go away from the 1st Fighter Control, it is probable that we’ll stay at some Replacement Camp for God knows how long.131 Nevertheless, I’m happy that I’m sweating this out now rather than a month or two later. . . . I got a letter from Ed today. He was still on Luzon when he wrote it October 22nd but at that time he was waiting on a Liberty Ship132 to sail in about 5 days for Honshu.133 Poor Ed! I’m sure I’ll beat him home now. He has about 73 points, I believe. I can’t understand how the Army works. I used to get Ed so mad when I’d tell him I’ll probably get on the same boat to go back home with him. Now it looks as though I’ll get on one ahead of him. Ed never felt it was fair to give fathers 12 points for children. His argument is that he is being deprived of the chance to get home, become married & have children. In a way he’s right. [Lyle] Holder here keeps telling me all the babies back home are crying “I want my father!” I didn’t know any of those Gallup boys you mentioned in a recent letter. For a small town, Gallup was hit pretty hard by the war. . . .134 Always your loving husband,

Frank

★★★

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FRD-AGD, 18 November 1945, Fort McKinley, Philippines135 Dear Al, Your letter of November 7 arrived yesterday and prompts an early reply. As usual, I have so much to tell you and so many things to ask, that I scarcely know where to begin. Except for the tragic information on Grace’s circumstances, your letter was woefully inadequate. . . . [I want a long letter] about yourself, Dad, your work, plans and perhaps a hundred other things. . . . The big news is that I’m practically on my way home. I have 60 points, have been relieved of my radio duties and am awaiting the call to be shipped out of here. I expect to leave this squadron sometime this week; then will come the long wait for a ship at some replacement depot. There is a slim possibility that I will be home for Christmas, but more probably I’ll be on the High Seas. Unless something unforeseen happens, there is no question but that I’ll be home in January. I only wish the whole Dietrich clan could get together again in Pittsburgh when Chris and I and the baby go there to pick up my Chevy. My plans? To go back to New Mexico. That’s where both Chris and I want to go more than anywhere else. I don’t know how we could live on the salary, but we’ll give it a try. I’d like to build one of those small, beautiful New Mexican homes with loans from the G.I. Bill of Rights.136 What are the prospects for Social Work jobs elsewhere? Do you have any idea? A higher salary might entice me away from New Mexico, although I hate the thought. I’d like at least 2 or 3 years in N. Mex. just to clean the stench of war out of me. Now, my brother, what about you? I thought surely you’d be discharged by now. How many points do you have? How are discharges from C.P.S. based? I can’t figure any reasonable reason why you should be held any longer. What do you plan to do when you get out? About Christmas gifts, I’ve thrown up my hands and am sticking Chris with the whole problem. There’s just nothing over here I could buy and send that would be worth the postage. Native souvenirs are nothing but hideous junk and, of course, stores have nothing to offer because trade is almost at a standstill. Everything is at a ridiculously high price anyway. So what you may get for Christmas depends upon Chris and I’m sure we’ll reciprocate by not sending you much for we don’t have the wherewithall. But I’m sure you are in less favorable circumstances than we, and I’d be happier if you sent us nothing, Al. I mean it. After all, we are intelligent, understanding beings, and I think it would be foolish to deplete yourself of any small funds you might have, just to get us a gift.

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Chris has asked me what she should get for Dad. It’s the same perennial problem. Can you give her any suggestions? Also, she is puzzled about Bobby [Van Sciver]. Yes, Grace’s situation really is frightful, and I feel so utterly helpless. I told you she wrote me last August. I replied promptly, but never got an answer. Did she get my letter, do you know? I fear now her frantic letter to me was some slight hope she might find some channel for financial help. I didn’t think of that at the time. A lot of soldiers who came overseas earlier saved huge sums of money for they had no place to spend even a fraction of their pay. But here in the Philippines one pays for everything through the bloody nose. I’ve allotted part of my pay to Chris, so I never see some of it. Recently, I got a promotion to Staff [Sergeant]. Until that time, I was always running short of dough about the middle of the month. Of course, I’ll admit I’m not being penny-wise. When I have the dough, I spend it. Too much of it goes for liquor, to be sure. I’m living a life of a conventional soldier—somewhat rowdy, and more liquor than I’m accustomed to. But somehow, I’m happy, except for occassional regrets when my conscience catches up to me. . . . It’s a pity you couldn’t have told me something about Dad in your letter. I’m glad you got to see him, but have you forgotten he’s my father, too? I frequently feel apprehensive, if not actually worried about him. You didn’t even mention seeing Gert, Lou and Barry. And Chautauqua! A soldier becomes readily sentimental, you know, when he is so far from home. Or hardened. True, I like it here; I’m happy in a peculiar sort of way. Strange thing, this living in the plane of the average, the mediocre. I didn’t allow myself to do it back in the States very much, but here I have been forced into it, or perhaps forced myself into it. Previously, I always strived to rise at least a little above my own mediocrity, but now I feel submerged in a senseless yet carefree existence. It was odd that your letter should arrive precisely with one from Chris where she describes answering a long distance telephone call for “Mrs. Dietrich[.]” It was Ed Francel calling from Pine Bluff. He is stationed at a Japanese Internment camp near McGehee, Arkansas.137 Said he might stop at Altheimer sometime. To catch you up on other mutual friends, Ed Dobroski is in Japan. He left here about Oct. 25th. Maybe he’s on his way home now. He’s a high point man and should never have been sent to Japan. But Ed wanted to go, anyway. I hated to see him leave here. I got a letter from the Goldmans some time ago. They are in Portland, as you probably know. Both are fanatical converts to the West. Bruno is still at the hospital in Virginia. He’s to become Assistant Director of Brashear upon

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his discharge. His wife [Maybelle] is now in Pgh. supervising the construction of their home at the Brashear Camp near Wexford.138 The Zacharys expect to live out at the camp, for an all year camping program is being inaugurated. It was silly of me to ask you all these questions in this letter. No use writing me, Al. I doubt if a letter of yours could find me until I get back in the States, especially when it takes you so long to make up your mind to answer. I hope we’ll be seeing each other soon. Until then, I’ll be in the dark about many things, you goon. Chris and Sally Lou seem to be fine. Sally Lou is walking around and jabbering little words now. I can scarcely picture her anymore, although Chris gives me detailed accounts of her activities. I just got a recent color photograph which Chris took—the only good one that came out in a whole roll. She’s a sweet little daughter. Enough now! I’ve written you more than you deserved, and you get off lucky not having to answer this. I’ll drop you a line when I arrive in the States. Do you think you could get up to Pittsburgh then? Probably the last of December or 1st part of January. Well, maybe you can visit us in New Mexico sometime. Ave Maria!

Frank

★★★

FRD-CDD, 28 November 1945, Clark Field, Philippines My dearest, My new address tells the story. I am now on my way home. Two truck loads of 60 pointers and above left the 1st Fighter Control Squadron this morning and we are now at a depot processing for return to the States. Things look bright indeed. We are told that all of us are to clear out of here Saturday. That’s Dec. 1st, only three days from now. You realize often such things don’t materialize in the Army. But from the appearance of Manila harbor, I have every reason to be optimistic. The harbor seems glutted with large ships. I knew that yesterday was to be my last day at Ft. McKinley, so I made the most of it. Starting out early in the morning right after breakfast, I made a trip

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up to Ligtong. I wanted above all to get some pictures of the fishing community and I knew the morning light would be best for the boats. In spite of the long trip, I only took 3 pictures, for my supply of film is too limited. But my trip was rewarded in other ways. I stopped to see Mr. Parron, the fisherman and his family.139 He is just a poor, industrious man with wife and 8 year old daughter. The family lives in a typical thatched Filipino cottage. As usual, I was more than welcome. In fact, I felt obligated to stay for dinner because they begged me so much. It was a feast of rice and fried chicken, excellently cooked with one of these peculiar crock “stoves.” I ate my fill while the family gathered around to watch me and chat. As a guest, I had to eat alone. Before the dinner, however, I was fed some atrocious concoction that was considered a delicacy, I suppose. It was made of a green cocoanut. Mr. Parron took a long bolo knife, chopped at the husk until he finally reached the meat.140 He then poured the milk into a glass, scraped the thin white cocoanut meat out with a spoon and dropped it into the glass, then added some course [sic] brown sugar and stirred. The unripe cocoanut meat was a flabby, slimy mess, but I somehow managed to down the stuff and extol its virtues mildly[.] I left Ligtong shortly after one o’clock. Mr. Parron still wants to give me a souvenir. It’s to be a carved replica of one of his praus, or fishing boats. I’d love to have it, but now I know I’ll never get back. My mission from Ligtong was the [General Tomoyuki] Yamashita hearing at the High Commissioner’s building.141 I arrived just in time to get admission to the 3:30 session. The trial is quite interesting, and I only wish I had gone to a few other hearings. It is conducted in quite a sober manner, but the proceedings are exceedingly slow because of the necessity to translate everything from one language to another. Yamashita sat there quietly listening. He is a large built man, unlike most Japanese. His hair is cropped short and he wears his shoddy looking uniform with the stars of his rank and ribbons of decorations. The defense of Yamashita presented three Japanese character witnesses yesterday. One was a retired General[,] another a Colonel still active in the War Ministry (although he wore civilian clothes) and a long time personal friend of Yamashita. It would take too long to explain what they said. Indeed, it was much too much to remember. The gist was that Yamashita was a “moderate” army man as opposed to “extremist,” was well-respected[,] a humanitarian as well as a stern disciplinarian for troops under his command. The Colonel who was the sharpest and most interesting witness testified that Yamashita opposed Tojo’s plans to attack the U.S.142 He explained that Yamashita had come to this conclusion after a mission to Germany where he decided the whole Japanese Army was antiquated in comparison to Western Armies.

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The first old civilian who testified was a little nervous during the proceedings and questioning, but he managed to make many forthright statements. When he was dismissed from the witness chair, he made the sloppiest, most pathetic looking salute to the American Commissioners, turned [and] saluted the prosecuting council, the defense council then the audience in the same ridiculous matter [manner,] then gave a slight bow to the whole courtroom as he went out the door. It was comical, like a Gilbert and Sullivan performance, yet no one laughed. There wasn’t even a titter. In the evening I went to the show to see “Of Human Bondage.”143 I remember having seen Bette Davis in it way back in High School and I knew it had been acclaimed as a great film. This new version, with Konrad [sic] Henlein and (I forget the leading actress) was good, but I felt it had plenty of faults. It failed to build up the crisis adequately. Perhaps I wasn’t in a mood for such a story. . . . Nevertheless, it was well worth seeing and the leading lady was superb. Well, darling, this has been two big days in a row. It’s getting dark now, so I’ll have to quit. We have no lights in our tent. Old Mt. Aryat [sic] is a huge silhouet (sp) to my right. I love to see it again. Like an old friend. I doubt that I’ll even get up to Porac, now that we’re going to leave so soon. Sweetheart, it’s hard to believe that I’m on my way home to see you and be with you and Sally Lou again. I’m already assigned to be discharged at Camp Chaffee [Arkansas], so it is definite now. If we board a fast vessel Saturday, I should be home by Christmas. Think of it! With more and more love, and kisses to last till I get home. Your devoted husband

Frank. . . .

★★★

CDD-AGD, 29 November 1945, [Altheimer, Arkansas] Dear Al, I can’t tell you how distressed I am to hear you are suffering a broken leg. It’s such tough luck! As you say, we should be thankful it was no worse, but I’m sure you thought it was as bad as it could be those first few days. I know that the worst of it must be over by now, and that you are more comfortable.

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The best I can wish for you is that your accident will pay you the dividends mine did. (You remember. Frank, two other girls & I swerved to miss a washed out bridge, & ended up in an arroyo. I suffered six ribs broken—I can’t think a broken back could have hurt more—and a broken knee-cap.) Anyway, I still maintain that that accident had everything to do with my capturing Frank! We were on the way to Phoenix, Frank to see Winnie [Ely], & we girls tagging along for the trip. It was during my stay in the hospital that Frank & I got to really know each other.144 I’ve no regrets over that accident! What about your nurses? Any attractive ones? I do wish you were near so I could help you pass the time in the hospital. When I first received your letter, I couldn’t help but think of yours and Frank’s fortunes seeming to always be controversial. Your accident occurred the very day I received Frank’s letter telling me of one point being found for him, putting him in the 60 point group, which was being processed to come home!

We’ve had a big Thanksgiving today. You probably read that Arkansas was one of two obstinate states that refused to celebrate any but the last Thursday in Nov.145 Ralph came home from Greenwood, Miss. Dick is here. So we were all together on Thanksgiving for the first time in eight years.146 My sister, however, is sick in bed with ’flu, so she was unable to enjoy the gaiety. There’s not very encouraging news from Frank now. Yesterday’s letter reported a rumor of sailing around Dec. 15, which won’t put him home for Christmas. But then I can’t be too unhappy, for he will be coming soon anyway. These last few weeks will drag, I fear. Frank told me you had been home and to Philadelphia. I’m so glad you could go, and I do hope we can someway manage to all get together when Frank gets back. I, too, have wondered how Sally Lou would feel when she sees two Daddies! I believe she thinks she has two, anyway, for I’ve two pictures of Frank in a double frame. She kisses both of them goodnight. Al, I do hope you’re feeling good and just getting a good rest now. Be patient and do try to let me hear from you. My folks all send their love and good wishes to you. They were very concerned and sorry to hear of your accident. Love, Chris’

★★★

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AGD-FRD, 1 December 1945, Mulberry, Florida Dear Frank. . . . I’m answering your letter and am going to send this on to you even if it has to follow you around the world. For a year or more I’ve been very much aware of the fact that I have not been writing you very adequately. I’ve written more from a sense of duty than from any filial desire to express myself to you. For sometime now, your letters have come with such a condescending air of paternalism toward me that they have been received with a sneer, to put it mildly. You have “my manned” me this and “my boyed” me this until I have wondered when I emerged from your vasea differentia [sic].147 Then, too, there was a long period at Denison, Iowa, when I was very dissatisfied with C.P.S. and was downright unhappy. It wasn’t that I thought I had made a mistake, but it was that what I found myself doing didn’t seem significant enough and in no way forceful demonstration of a way of peace. During those dark days at Denison, I felt I should have gone to prison rather than to C.P.S. as I saw conscription a basic evil against which I should have made my protest and taken my stand. And here, being in C.P.S., I was tacitly giving approval to one of the basic of all evils in the war system. But since I have come to Florida my outlook has changed considerably. I find myself doing more significant work and touching human need more directly. In Iowa we were putting in soil conservation structures (dams) on the farms of wealthy farmers, the only ones able to pay for the material—cement, wood, nails, gasoline, reinforcing steel, etc. Them’s what needed the least, got the most, and them’s what needed the most, got nothing. That’s the way the soil conservation program operated. But the government is so anxious to do anything “for demonstration purposes” that real need hardly enters the picture. Here in Florida we are working on a hook-worm eradication and control project, and we are touching human need at its greatest. We are working with the poor, rural Southern Negro and the so-called “poor white trash” or backwoods “cracker” as he is called down here. Your letter found me in the hospital at Bartow, Fla. Two weeks ago I fell off our truck while returning from project. I suffered a “compound comunuted (sp) fracture of the lower right leg,” as the doctor described it. I was lucky to have gotten off with that, as the truck was going about 40 miles per hour when the accident occurred. You see, the truck was a flat bottom without sides. It was empty and another man and I were sitting on the bottom in back. We were perfectly comfortable and perfectly safe until a jolt or sway

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or something spilled our water keg and wet the entire bottom of the truck. To get out of the water, I got up on a nail keg where I sat comfortably and safely, too, for I had my hands on the front cab part of the truck, and couldn’t possibly have fallen off. But it was evening and the air was getting chill. Since I had my shirt off (Remember this is Florida), I got my T shirt, which was inside the keg I was sitting on, and started to pull it over my head. Of course, during the process, I had both hands free from the front of the truck, and it was just then that our driver swerved to get around a stalled or stopped car on the highway. That’s all it took to unseat me. My ballance was gone, and so was the keg from under me. I grabbed for the front of the truck, got hold of a rope, but couldn’t hold on. In a flash I saw my predicament. I would slide over the side right under the wheels, so I jumped. This was perhaps fortunate, too, for it carried me away from the hard surface of the road as well as from the wheels, and put me in the soft, sand shoulder. I landed on my right foot which immediately crumpled and threw me tumbling over and over for 40 feet. Result: —broken leg as described. I’ve got the thing set and pinned with stainless steel pins. Was in the hospital for 10 days and and [am] now in bed at camp with doctor’s ordered not to get up on the foot. Was advised that I may be down for 4 to 6 months, but I believe this is a physician’s cautious exageration. You probably know by now that Grace is contemplating re-marrying. I met her fiance, Tom Martin, a rather nice, intelligent, ex-Army man, who regretably, learned to like his whisky pretty much while he was in the Army. But Tom is good to Grace, he is devoted to her and has waited a long, long time for her decision. Tom is good to the kids, too, and they love him, of course, as they are both starved for male companionship. Before coming down here, I spent about 4 days at Grace’s[.] Bobby has the old personality traits, which I feel quite certain come from Grace’s differential handling of the two kids, and not from Mel’s somatic cells which he might have inherited. As a matter of fact, Grace admitted to me that she is at fault for Bobby’s trouble. “I don’t understand boys,” she said, “I never did. I shouldn’t have had Bobby. I’ve known all along. I have no patience with him. I don’t have half the patience with him that I have with Pat. He exhasperates me.” In the light of our knowledge of the effects of unconscious rejection upon a child, what significance would you say this has with reference to Bobby’s behavior and developing personality? It’s a pretty tragic picture, I think. There was not much I could do, either. Grace was aware of her rejection of the child, she was aware, too, of its effects upon him, but there was nothing she felt she could do. Patty is still the doll she used to be, only an overgrown one now. The other day she wrote me a beautiful and very thoughtful letter. She is of superior intelligence, I’m sure, and maturing ahead of her age.

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I hope you get back in the states in time to attend Grace’s marriage. I believe Grace would hold it up for you if she thought there was a possibility of your getting there. Yes, I was home for a spell, let’s see, for some 10 days, I believe. This was the most miserable part of my furlough, except those evenings spent at the L.E.D’s. I could tell Dad nothing of my work and experiences in C.P.S. without his breaking in to tell me about old mother Hooligan in Cork City.148 We went to Chautauqua, but that trip turned out to be a miserable disappointment. As you know, the house had been rented all summer. We found it in absolutely perfect condition. Everything was spotlessly clean and the place was in immaculate order. Dad was surprised, I know. It was not what he expected. In a sense he was disappointed. Finally, when I broke the tension of commenting on how nice the house looked, he burst forth with this: “Well, there’s no reason why it shouldn’t look good. I was down on my hands and knees this Spring and went over this house from top to bottom.” There’s much more I want to tell you, but it really shouldn’t be written. It goes too hard on Dad. Suffice it to say that my furlough at home was a terribly unhappy one and one which resulted in my resolving never again to spend more than a couple of days at home at any one time. Dad writes me regularly and he telegraphed me when he learned of my accident. He’s sent me money from time to time and has been very good that way. A brief word about Christmas. I’m going to be confined to my bed until after Christmas, probably well into the new year. I’ll never get out to buy Christmas gifts, now, so it’s little or nothing from me this year. Luckily, I already sent Sally-Lou a little gift the Sat. before I broke my leg. Also sent Erna Marie Penner a gift, so don’t have to feel guilty about her.149 The Penners always send me something. Florida is perfectly wonderful in the winter. It grieves me that I cannot be up and around to enjoy it. C.P.S. here is a vast improvement over the Denison set up, too. We are treated like adults, given responsibility, and our unit is very democratically operated. This is what I’ve been hunting for! So long—Al

★★★

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FRD-AGD, 7 December 1945, Clark Field, Philippines Dear Al, Your F.O.R. letter arrived delayed because of my change of address. I am slowly on my way home. I appreciate your sending me the F.O.R. appeal, for there is nothing I would like to support more, even though I believe it is an unrealistic approach to the problem. After my Army experience, I am convinced more of this than ever, for I have associated more closely with the socalled “masses” and I know more of their thinking habits and bases of action than ever. It is unfortunate that such a noble purpose as the Fellowship of Reconciliation will never appeal to the great mass of humanity. I am now convinced that the majority of people are unable to transmute passions—joy and sorrow, love and hate—into knowledge. These basic experiences, either individually or collectively, will always be bases of action and when the general populace finds it impossible to transform such emotions into understanding and knowledge, they have but a hollow void to serve as their guide in times of crises. Unfortunately, the F.O.R. appeal has caught me at a bad time. (It probably always will.) I have not been paid for November because I was shipped out of my last post before pay day. Right now I have precisely $5.00 in my pocket to come home on. However, we expect we may get a $20.00 partial pay in a week or so. If it comes, I’ll forward a dollar. As things stand now, I expect to sail from here Dec. 17th. That’s the earliest date, but the way the Army runs things we might not sail for a month or so. At first we were told we’d ship out on Dec. 4th. Naturally our spirits were high for we thought we’d be home for Christmas. Then came the usual delaying action. I’m with a unit here waiting for a ship to arrive to take us back. I’m very much in the dark as to how you get your discharge. Who is responsible for your release, the Government, the Draft Boards, the affiliated religious organizations? Who? I think it is a lot of nonsense that you should be retained so long after the war. I suppose there is fear of public criticism if you are released early when “my poor little Johnny who risked his life in the war is still over in the Pacific, etc[.]” People have no personal integrity, as a rule. I’m to be discharged at Camp Chaffee, Arkansas. I suspect that will be around the middle of January. From Chaffee I’ll go to Altheimer, pick up Chris and the baby and go on to Pgh. after a day or two stay at Altheimer. I should be in Pgh around the third week of January, if plans go smoothly. I only wish you, Grace and the kids could be there, too. I guess there’s no chance for you, huh? Maybe you’ll get your discharge by then. I hope so.

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I was wondering if you were planning to go back to Nebraska. I suppose it’s the best thing to do, all right. I was thinking maybe you’d want to try some foreign field, if any opportunities avail themselves. As for me, I’m on my way to New Mexico, I hope. I haven’t heard from the New Mex. Dept. for I’ve been terribly negligent in writing them. However, I recently sent them a letter asking for my job. I’d rather get placed at Sante Fe or Albuquerque, even though I like the Gallup country so much. But the town is just a little too small to offer any advantages other than the surrounding scenic beauty and the picturesqueness of the Indians. Wherever we locate, I hope you’ll soon get a chance to come out and visit us. Ed Dobroski is planning to come out, too. I don’t know how we’ll make a go of things with my salary. Sometimes I feel frightened, especially when I think of the higher cost of living now. But we’ll never know unless we give it a try. I hope to get a government loan to build a home. I suppose I’ve told you these things before. I am leaving the Philippines now with a certain feeling of frustration. I’ve enjoyed it here, but I feel as though I have wasted much of my time, even though I did better than the average G.I. I like it here and would welcome the opportunity to come back if any good jobs opened up. The Filipinos are a fine people notwithstanding most G.I. opinion to the contrary. This is all the paper I have, so I’ll quit. If you write, address Altheimer. etc. Frank. MERRY CHRISTMAS, too. ★★★

FRD-CDD, 7 December 1945, Clark Field, Philippines My dearest, (I’m back to this wretched stationary again. I went in the orderly room and asked them for some paper today. You would think I asked for a battleship. There are some men in this Army who find particular delight in seeing others frustrated. Their type of psychology must develop from their own sense of personal inadequacy. They get a particular satisfaction in being the instrument to others’ helplessness. Supply sergeants and first sergeants are

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particularly guilty. Apparently the advantages of their positions attract the sadistic type personality. The only satisfaction I got today was that I walked off with this tablet without the characters in the orderly room discovering it.) Again a day passes with nothing new added. That’s 43,200 seconds lost if I reflect on Pierce’s [sic] philosophy that every moment in the universe is new.150 Lost only in the sense that I did little of value or significance. But their greatest value is that I’m some forty-thousand seconds closer to you, so my loss is far outweighed by the gain. Last night the first shipment of the higher pointers left for the harbor, so that, too ought to mean I’m closer to the next available boat. But new men were also brought into the squadron today and rumor has is that we are to be broken up into two shipments again. If that’s true, I fear I’ll be on the last one again. We all feel we’re getting a royal gigging here. Oddly enough, time seems to be flying by rapidly in spite of my impatience and indolence. I thought today was Wednesday or Thursday and was startled to learn it was actually Friday. The difficulty is that days pass as such stereotypes that it is difficult to differentiate one from the other. I spent most of this morning playing chess. This afternoon I read a little of Clarence Day’s “This Simian World” and wrote a letter to Al.151 Right now there’s a movie on but for once I used enough will power to restrain myself from going simply because “the boys” went. It’s one of those asinine mystery movies. They are always on about a 10 or twelve year old level and I get disgusted every time I see one. We signed a supplementary payroll today and are to get $20.00 in four or five days. I just broke my last five dollar bill for beer issue this evening. We pay $2.40 per case. I suppose I should have denied myself the luxury, but my weakness with money is to spend it and beer has become one of my chief enjoyments while sitting around the tent chatting or reading. I figure I should have a pay of a little over $100.00 coming at the time of my discharge plus the additional $100.00 installment on the discharge bonus or whatever it’s called. That’s not much, I know, and I’m thinking we may have to cash some bonds. I feel guilty in not having saved more of my pay while over here. I should have sent it home immediately each time I was paid. But the temptations to spend it and the exhorbant (exorbant, exhorbatent, how the devil do you spell it?) prices conspired against me. I’m anxious to see Sally Lou in her new coat and legging set. I know she must look perfect, and it must be a great satisfaction that the purchase turned out so fine, especially when you bought sight unseen. It’s really difficult for me to visualize her walking and all dressed up in leggings and a cute little coat. I suppose her steps are quite steady and secure now although it only seems yesterday that I was reading of her first shaky steps.

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Since all your letters have prepared me so well for Sally Lou, maybe I ought to prepare you for me. I fear I’ll be skinnier looking. Almost everyone who sees me stretched out on my sack in my shorts comments on my thinness. I am told that I could stand as a good example of a former prisoner of war from a Japanese concentration camp. Maybe that’s the boys exaggerating a little, but my ribs do protrude somewhat. The other day our former medic saw me, took immediate concern and gave me a bottle of 100 multivitamin pills. I feel fine and have a good appetite, so I’m really not alarmed. Perhaps I can be fattened a little during the long voyage home. I suppose I’ve suffered a further recessional of the hair-line; more forehead to wash, etc. At least that’s what Brown has been telling me. But I can never figure out whether he’s serious or just kidding me. However, when I got a haircut the other day and saw myself in a large mirror, I had reason to believe there was some truth to his statements. I hear that Yamashita was sentenced to be hung this afternoon. His council built up such a powerful defense, I thought he might get off with life imprisonment. It’s odd, but somehow I have more sympathy for Yamashita’s position then any of the German war criminals. I honestly think Yamashita is guilty more from negligence than systematic planning and scheming of atrocities. He simply didn’t trouble himself about atrocities when they sporadically broke out. Not that I think he should be exhonerated of blame. On the contrary, it is best that the world should lose his type of personality and philosophy. Well, my time is up. I’d better get me to my sack. I’ll be thinking of you ’til I fall off to sleep. I love you every minute and that love alone gives perpetual newness to every moment. Your loving husband Frank.

★★★

FRD-CDD, 10 December 1945, Clark Field, Philippines Dearest Chris, . . . G.I. Chapels over here are quaint bamboo structures, but this one surpassed all I had seen.152 It was a low squat building with a thatched roof instead of the usual corrugated iron. Inside, the bare earth was the floor, and

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the rude wooden benches dipped their legs into an inch or two of soil pulverized into a fine dust by the heavy shuffling G.I. boots. Thick bamboo posts supported the superstructure of the roof. The alter [sic], too, was made primarily of bamboo and decorated with the same. . . . On my bunk I found your last letter giving me the news of Al’s accident. It was the first I knew of it. If Al wrote me, I hadn’t received the letter yet. I was puzzled as to why he had written you, exactly, except that I guess he finds he has a lot of time on his hand. The accident sounds quite serious, and I’m only hoping he’ll make a complete recovery. I can’t figure out what would throw him from a truck that was travelling so fast. Frankly, one of the things that has deterred me from getting around more over here has been the obvious risks with hitch-hiking. Several times I’ve had the bad luck to ride with a very drunken driver and the experience isn’t too pleasant. Then, too, sometimes you strike one of these guys who likes to think he’s driving a P-38 [Lightning Fighter Plane] instead of a jeep, and it’s just as bad as the drunkard.153 The parallels I drew on Al and me were the similarities in our travels. Al seemed to always follow me sometime later. Shortly after I went to Florida with the Army, Al, too, made a trip to Florida for the Nebraska Department of Welfare. Next I moved to Sioux Falls and Al was “inducted” into the C.O. camp and sent to So. Dakota. A little after I went south to Chanute, Al trailed south to [Sioux City] Iowa. When finally I was shipped over seas to the tropics, Al went south to the tropical climate of Florida. I don’t remember ever thinking of a parallel in “ups and downs” as you put it, although I might have. Lord, I hope I’m not due for a broken leg next! Of course, the whole comparison is a little far fetched and ridiculous, I guess. I’ll have to close here or I’ll never get this letter off. I know I haven’t mentioned Sally Lou, but nevertheless, she has been constantly in my thoughts. Already this letter has been interrupted by noon dinner, then a long session over a case of beer that almost ended in fisticuffs between the cook and an Irishman who was drinking with me. Now it’s already supper time, and at this post if you don’t eat early you don’t eat period. . . . Always your loving husband Frank. P.S. No further news about shipping out. Still Dec. 17th. F. ★★★

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FRD-AGD, 16 December 1945, Clark Field, Philippines Dear Al, Your last letter reached me while I am still waiting for a ship to take me back. The wait should soon be over for I expect to board a Dutch ship this week, probably Tuesday. As your letters usually do, this one stirs me to a prompt answer and possibly some sort of weak defense of myself. But first of all, about your accident. Chris had written me last week about it and naturally I felt a little stunned. The fractures sound quite severe and I know you must have suffered all the torments of the damned. God, it must have been a frightful experience and it is fortunate you reacted so swiftly and jumped. I take it you are well on the way to recovery now. Will they take the stainless steel pins out or do they stay as a part of you? God, I hope it doesn’t leave you with a limp. I don’t know how I escaped a similar accident over here. You see, I am pretty restless and like to get around more than the average G.I.; consequently I have hitch hiked all over the island. But depending on irresponsible G.I. drivers half the time is a tremendous risk. Many times I have had my heart leap into my mouth at a near-accident. So often you get into a jeep or truck with a drunken driver and it’s no fun while he tries to show what a clever driver he is. Some of these moronic would-be heroes who feel a certain failure in their military careers seem to think they are piloting a P-38 while they’re driving. They must get a certain sense of power when they push down on the foot pedal. But all this is neither here nor there. The fact is, you met with a bad accident and I somehow escaped when I expected one and saw plenty along the highways. I wish I could help you, or at least send you something, but I’m precluded from both. We’re now restricted to the post because of the imminence of our departure. And now about this condescension stuff. My boy, you’re allowing your imagination to work over overtime, or play tricks with you. What kind of crap are you trying to pull? If you don’t like a friendly phrase like “my boy” or “my man” I’ll refrain from using it, but really, I didn’t know you were so touchy. I have had no complaints from Ed, or the Goldmans or any other friends to whom I write and use the same expressions. Have you been too far out of touch with normal human relations? Yeah, it makes me mad; I’m pissed off, as we’d say in the Army. To be sure, I think my letters must have dropped to a low intellectual level. I know they must be mostly foolish gossip and nonsense. That’s what the Army does to one. I have gradually adjusted to this Army milieu and it wasn’t

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an easy struggle. I suffered plenty of isolation and dispair before I accepted the inevitable loss of these years and allowed myself to succumb to a very trite existence. I had to learn to accept in order to survive. Strange thing, though, I now find I can fit myself into the group, or “the boys,” and worst of all I get considerable satisfaction out of it, plus the occasional regrets when I contemplate the foolishness and waste of time. I couldn’t possibly sit down and write as fine an analysis of a personality as you did of Bobby and I even forget what VASEA DIFFERENTIA [sic] are from what you might or might not have emerged. I am in a rut, a deep abyssmal one and if any one deserves condescension, it is I. Even books have almost fled my world. I try to read, but not with too much success. Instead, I find it easier doing nothing of significance. I am contented much too easily now. I hadn’t the remotest idea Grace was to be re-married. She never did answer my letter of last summer. I’m glad for her sake and the kids’. I hope he turns out good and from what you say, I believe he will. I don’t think Grace would ever care for a man who didn’t like to drink. I trust he’ll be able to stear a course of moderation. I think re-marriage is the only sensible solution to Grace’s problems, providing she gets the right man. Does Dad know of the marriage by now? I would like to attend her wedding but don’t see how I’ll ever get to Phila. It’s been a long, long time ago since I last saw Grace and the kids. I should arrive in the States sometime in the first week of January or second week at the latest. From San Francisco I’ll go to Camp Chaffee Arkansas where I’ll get my discharge. From there I’ll go to Altheimer, stay a few days, then take Chris and Sally Lou on to Pgh. It would be too expensive to make the trip on to Philadelphia. Your reactions to your furlough and Dad are interesting. You’ll remember, I had the same experience—one perfectly miserable furlough at home then the next one I enjoyed thoroughly. If I remember correctly, you too had a grand time on your Christmas furlough and the one prior to that. . . . I’m glad you have work you enjoy (that is, before you became hospitalized)[.] It sounds interesting. I’m anxious myself to get back to Social Work but I have some qualms about my capabilities now. I could write on and on, Al but I’ll let this suffice for the time being. I wish I could see you as soon as I get back, but I fear it’s impossible. Maybe your next furlough or preferably vacation, you can spend out in New Mex. As always, etc. Frank. ★★★

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FRD-CDD, 24 December 1945, Clark Field, Philippines My dear wife, This is my last letter from overseas. After a long, long wait, the Army finally gave us our shipping orders as a Christmas present. The first group is to board the boat tomorrow and the rest of us will follow the day after Christmas. We will be on a Dutch ship called the “Slaterdejk” or something like that. It’s a fairly fast ship—21 days, they say,—so I should arrive in the states sometime around the 16th of January. I suppose I could sit here feeling sorry for myself because I’m missing Christmas with you. Naturally I want to be there at Altheimer for these holidays, but in reality I’m happy now that the final word of shipping has come through. Many of the boys have had a harder time of the wait than I. When I came back to the squadron several days ago after a jaunt somewhere I found many of the guys near a point of mutiny. They had been sitting around brooding too much. When I feel such a mood coming on I get restless and get myself off the post. Fortunately, I have found a fellow-traveler with [Russell] Fessler, a fellow from Pennsylvania who has done much reading and developed a critical mind. He makes a good companion and in fact we enjoyed each other’s company so much I think we each looked forward to daily excursions with little thought to the delay in shipping. It helped keep our minds off our trouble and prevented the development of the typical martyr complex that so many soldiers in this situation develop. They are often happy to make the folks back home think they are suffering horribly. In fact, Smitty confessed to me that he never writes a letter home until he is in a very disgusted mood with everything. So, the absence of my letters in the past few days is neither from my having shipped earlier nor a desire to keep you in a state of bewilderment and pity. I know often it is a temptation not to write when things don’t go well because one has a feeling that folks back home are in a state of anxiety when no letters arrive. It is like a mild suicide complex. “They’ll be sorry when I’m gone,” changes to “they’ll be sorry for me when they don’t hear from me.” I never allowed myself to sink into such an abyssmal mood, but I have seen others in it often, and peculiarly enough, they rather enjoy the sense of false importance it gives. I don’t know why I’m writing along such a vein for a holiday letter, but actually I haven’t been able to capture the Christmas spirit at all. Yes, I regret it, but still I’m happy that at least now I know I’m on my way home. I don’t know exactly what I have done with these last few days since my recent letter to you. Yesterday, I know, I spent on K.P. I scarcely worked, for

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I was in charge of K.P’s, so it was a very easy day, although I would rather have had the hours free. The other days I went into the mountains, or down to Angeles or somewhere. I know most of the time I was on the move to some destination or other. There’s not much more to tell you, darling. I hope you have had a very, very happy holiday season. I’m sure Sally Lou should make it that way. Yes, I do regret I haven’t been with you, but this will be the last time, I hope. My love to all the folks and since this is still only Christmas Eve I’ll say a very Merry Christmas and trust you’ll know I’ve been thinking of you. Love and kisses. Always your own

Frank.

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CHAPTER 5

1946: “The FOR . . . Is Realistic and Activist”

AGD-FRD/CDD, [January 1946], Mulberry, Florida Dear Frank & Chris. . . . I believe I now have three letters (of yours, Frank) unanswered. In truth, however, I answered one of your letters last December 20 and then never mailed it as I didn’t know where to mail it. So I have it here & will give you its contents in this letter. But before going on with any lengthy, discussion let me answer your “hurried note.” (This is a terrible typewriter, it’s of 1492 vintage with no carriage throw, no backspace, no carriage release and the 101 little gadgets that make a modern typewriter function so efficiently, even think for you.) I don’t see much possibility of my getting to Pittsburgh very soon, much as I should like to. I’m still on crutches & will be on them for another 5 or 6 weeks. At times it is possible to get a medical leave when a person is laid up like I am, but the Camp director (Commanding officer in your language) advises me that medical leaves are granted only when a person wants to return to his home community for specific medical or surgical care. Of course, since my case was an accidental one, all care was given here, on the spot as an emergency. I really believe I could press the question to a show down & finally get a medical leave, but I’ve thought it over quite carefully & have decided against 283

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it. In the first place it would be difficult for me to get around in the north where there is snow & ice & I would therefore be confined indoors most of the time. It’s bad enuf to get around here when it’s raining & things are slippery outside, I can[’t] imagine what I would do in Pittsburgh. Then, too, being in the fix I’m in, it would never do for me to be home and become an intolerable burden upon Dad. Furthermore, I feel certain that I would become rather restless at home. Here I am surrounded with college men who are interested in the things I’m interested in & who keep my mind active & stimulated. Furthermore, I’m again teaching a class in Social Psychology and would hate to break off at this point. I doubt that Grace will get to Pittsburgh to see you. She last wrote me before Christmas & I haven’t heard from her since. As far as I know, she married Tom Martin. She told me she was working for a newspaper & was going to keep the job after her marriage as she liked it. I know she is terribly busy & tied down. It would be nice if you could drive on to Philadelphia after your Pittsburgh visit & then come down here for a week on your return trip to New Mexico. You could return by way of the southern route & just detour slightly to come to Mulberry in Central Florida. All three of you could stay here at Camp & it would cost you nothing at all. We have facilities for guests & I’ve already talked with the director about your coming. He approves heartily. Think it over. You said in your letter that you read where Pres. Truman had asked the War Dept. or Congress to do something about releasing conchies.1 That’s the first I’ve heard this. No one here has heard of it & usually we are pretty currently informed on matters of this nature. I doubt that Truman would have the courage to stick his neck out on anything like that for certainly he is not showing himself as a man of courage or leadership at all. The country is obviously slipping backward toward reaction. The subject of conscientious objectors is too touchy & filled with emotional fire for President Truman to handle. In one of your earlier letters, Frank, I was greatly interested in your criticisms of F.O.R. & the pacifist movement. You ran out of paper & quit rather suddenly just when you were getting pretty good. I feel called upon to answer some of your criticisms as they were stimulating. I do believe, however, that you showed some lack of understanding of the movement. In the first place, your statement that the F.O.R. (Fellowship of Reconciliation) has “an unrealistic approach to the problem” (of war & human relations) does show a certain ignorance of the movement & what it is doing. The FOR does not promise “pie in the sky when you die,” neither does it forsee a day of perpetual peace & plenty when humanity’s problems will have been solved through pacifism. It is some of the Mennonites and evangelistic groups which promise “pie in the

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sky when you die” as it were, and THEIR approach is unrealistic, selfish (they are seeking personal salvation only) and utterly unthinkable for the world of today. But the FOR, although motivated by basic religious concepts, is realistic and activist in its approach: It does not stupidly stand against war because war is evil. Even the ardent militarist admits war is evil and says he is against it. But the FOR recognizes that there are causes of war, that these causes are many and complex, rooted not only in the very heart of the social structure, but in the hearts of individuals. Toward these causes, then, the FOR directs its energies, attempting to touch, first of all, the individual—the causes of frustration, conflict and anxiety within him, then it reaches out and attempts to adjust areas of social, political and economic conflict. The FOR, for instance, has done significant and noble work in the field of race relations. In Chicago during the past 2 summers it has organized inter-racial groups known as CORE (Committee of Racial Equality).2 These groups have broken down the barriers that have existed for the Negro in restaurants, hotels, skating rinks, places of amusement and employment. The CORE groups have worked quietly, with due respect for the attitudes and prejudices of the discriminating Whites who impose unfair practices. Through interviews, letters, telephone conversations, experimentation and co-operation, the attitudes have been changed, the prejudices broken down and the doors of opportunity opened a little wider for the Negro. The CORE discovered in Chicago, for instance, that some food emporiums were giving Negro customers plates of garbage or garbage sandwiches in order to discourage them and keep them out. Others were giving them almost microscopic servings of whatever they ordered. Still others were charging prohibitive prices to the Negro for the same food served to whites at regular prices. Others refused to wait upon a man because of the color of his skin & would let a Negro sit for hours ignored until he walked out. Laws, O.P.A. regulations, City ordinances, the moral concepts of generations, the teachings of all the great religions of earth meant nothing when it came to the white man’s relationship w[i]th his black brother, and the determination to maintain a white supremacy based upon utterly false and unscientific precepts.3 But the CORE group was persistent and not easily discouraged. Quietly and undramatically they worked on until one establishment after another discarded the outmoded and undemocratic discriminatory practices. The FOR has touched other fields, too. It worked hard in behalf of the Japanese-American discrimination on the West Coast before and after the war.4 I am convinced that the handling of the Japanese-Americans during the war is one of the blackest pages of American history. Nothing has struck at the roots of our democracy more deeply. There has never been a more dangerous precident set. The constitutional violations were so clear & so obvious that a gradeschool child could see them. But caught in the hysteria of war and coated with

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official language the precident was established and may someday be used by demagogues to remove the last constitutional right from the last free citizen. Let’s see, now, what was the reason for which we fought this war? Oh, excuse me, our war aims have not been made known as yet. But getting back to the Japanese-Americans. I am convinced that it was the energetic protestations such as were voiced by the FOR and other organizations with a concern for our democracy that made the W.R.A. (War Relocation Authority) the competent, efficient, fair-minded organization that it turned out to be.5 You mention that the FOR will never appeal to the masses of the people. There has never been an effort to reach the masses directly. The FOR hopes to reach the leadership, the thinking people, the people who, after all, are the ones the masses follow. The masses may not be able to “transmute passions into knowledge” as you point out, but they can & do transmute their passions into action & that action can be either constructive or destructive depending upon the leadership & where it guides the energies that are loosed. Consider the T.V.A., all the imagination, enthusiasm, energy and concerted action that has gone and is going into that constructive enterprise.6 And yet, we are told, the T.V.A. has scarcely scratched the surface of the developmental possibilities of the valley. Consider the war, all the imagination, even enthusiasm, energy and concerted action that went into it. And yet, we are told, it will take many decades to rebuild what was destroyed, not to mention the irreplaceable losses in human life and artistic treasure. Where do the masses come into this picture? They come into it by way of their leadership. The world is in need of highly principled men of imagination and courage who will not betray the masses and lead them to their own suicide; men who will fire the people with constructive goals and who will recognize the worth of the individual personality regardless of the color of his skin, his national origin or religious background. I haven’t made myself as clear as I should like, but I can’t take time to think it out more carefully. The FOR is not idealistic and up in the clouds. It is idealistic with its feet on the ground, its hands active, and its heart sensitive. There are many other pacifist organizations—The War Resister’s [sic] League, The Pacifist Research Bureau,7 The Friends,8 some Co-operative Groups and Socialist groups—but the FOR seems to meet the needs more fully and practically than any. I am convinced the approach must be, not religious alone, not economic alone, not political alone, but a well-rounded approach taking all these into consideration. That is precisely what the FOR is doing. So much for pacifism & the FOR. I’m sorry to have burdened you with it all but I had to un-burden myself. You know, it’s really a paradox that I, who went CO, should now find myself a cripple, in a sense, a war casualty. But my leg is healing beautifully and I feel certain there will be no permanent after-

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effects. Most of the real war casualties have suffered irreparable damage, both psychological and physical. I should have told you back further when I was talking about President Truman that C.P.S. men are not discharged on the same basis as are men in the Armed Forces. Selective Service has been very reluctant to discharge C.O.’s because of fear of public reaction and because, I believe, of their own basic prejudices against the C.O. and his stand. Say hello to Sally-Lou for me. Here I am her twin-uncle and have never seen her. Give my greetings to the Dickeys, too. See what you can do about stopping off here before you go on out West. Brother, Al. P.S. Another time I’ll answer your January letter, Frank, the one in which you got so provoked about my saying something about “condescending.” It was entirely over-done on my part & I realized when I wrote (from the hospital where my mood and attitude toward everything was none too good) that I didn’t have a leg to stand on or any evidence to support my statement. Be sure and come down here now— Al.

★★★

FRD-AGD, 22 January 1946, Camp Chaffee, Arkansas Dear Al, This will be a hurried note to let you know I’m home in the U.S.A. I’m assuming you’re still at the camp in Florida and above all, I hope you’ve recovered from the accident. Right now I’m going thru the process of being discharged. I expect to be here 2 more days then I go on [to] Altheimer to join Chris and the baby. Probably I’ll stay in Altheimer 5 days or a week, then the 3 of us will go on to Pittsburgh. I suppose it’s a vain hope to consider you may be getting discharged now and be on your way north yourself. I just read where Truman had asked the

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War Dept. (or was it Congress?) to do something about getting you fellows out. I can’t imagine what excuse they have of holding you. I just wrote to Grace and am hoping she can get to Pittsburgh. I guess I’m expecting too much, but it’s a cinch we won’t be able to go to Phila. I have my New Mex. job back, so we’ll be driving back west probably around the 7th or 10th of February. At least those are my tentative plans. If only somehow all of us could get together again. It will seem incredibly wonderful and strange to be a free man again. Let me hear from you soon, Al. This is an awful letter, I know, but I feel impatient and rushed. Love

Frank.

★★★

AGD-FRD/CDD, 22 February 1946, Mulberry, Florida Dear Frank & Chris. . . . Many thanks for your letter. I’m sorry to learn, Chris, that you have been ill in Pittsburgh. I hope that you are better by now & up and around. I know it must make you both restless to be forever waiting. You never mentioned the possibility of your coming down here on your return trip to New Mexico, Frank, so I guess that’s just out. I had high hopes that you might be able to stop, but since you didn’t even mention my invitation I presume you never gave it a second thought. But you are still as welcome as the flowers in May, etc. Yes, I’m interested in the New Mexico job & shall write Miss McVey.9 Like you, I don’t think $195.00 per month is enough in times like these & I believe I would shop around a little while before I accepted a job like that. The Nebraska State Child Welfare Division has been after me & assures me that a job will be waiting me when I am discharged. They have not yet mentioned salary & I haven’t asked, either, as my discharge will not come until next November if the present regulations for the discharge of CO’s prevail. Your statement about me wishing to steer clear of a Veteran’s Administration job amuses me. I really can’t see your thinking at all. Conscientious Objectors have worked in Veteran hospitals through[ou]t the war & there are now sev-

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eral Veteran Administration units. A Social Worker under the V.A. doesn’t have to wear a uniform & carry a gun, does he? Of course, I’d be willing to accept a job under the Veterans Administration. We C.O.’s have almost universally found more understanding of our position among soldiers & exsoldiers than anyplace else. I can’t see at all that working for the V.A. would be a violation of my principles or an inconsistency in the least. But working in the medical Corps or the Red Cross during the war certainly would & I wouldn’t accept such a position for love nor money. In those positions you are helping to repair a soldier so that he may be returned to slaughter and be slaughtered at the earliest possible time. I couldn’t conscientiously particiapte in such a game.10 If you get any extra U.S. Civil Service bulletins about the V.A. jobs (or any others) send me them. I’m quite concerned that no one has heard from Grace for such a long time. I believe we should get in touch with her by phone & see what is wrong. Why don’t you call her from Pittsburgh while you are there. You could make it a general say “hello” call & at the same time find out what is wrong, if anything. I’ve written her several times, but have had no replies. Believe it or not, I’m still on crutches. I’ve been laid up now since November 19th & it’s getting tiresome, to say the least. But now I’m going everywhere on my crutches & can get along in crowds as well as in the open country. But I can’t do things that I want to do, and all the time I feel frustrated & tied down. But I have been to the ocean several time & have even gone in swimming with the brace & pins still in my leg. I don’t know whether this was very wise, as there is always a chance of getting a bone infection in the leg from the holes that go clear through. But I can’t restrain myself when I see the ocean waves. First I just wade around on the beach & then before I know it, I’m in up to my belly & throwing my crutches away. Early this week I went out with our Camp Director & picked a bushel of temple oranges & sent home to Dad. (I didn’t pick much as I couldn’t get around, but I did get a few from the low branches.) Anyway, I meant to write Dad earlier about the oranges & will still get a letter in the mails for him, I hope, by the time the oranges arrive. I believe these temple oranges are the most delicious ones grown here. We picked them tree-ripened & sent them without the usual processing & coloring. In my letter to Dad I’ll give him an idea of what they cost, as I believe I can pick them & ship them cheaper than he can buy them in Pittsburgh. Tell Dad to count the number of oranges in the bushel if he gets time. I’d be interested in knowing how many are in a basket. We pay only $1.25 per bushel here plus 35¢ for the basket. I forget what shipping charges were right now but I believe it was about $1.60, somewhere in there. I have the receipts & will give Dad more definite information, but the time being, give this information to Dad.

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I suppose by this time you’ve seen Ed Dobroski, & he’s told you that I sent in a membership application to the American Veterans Committee & received a membership card with full rights etc.11 I sent in my application as a test to see what they would do with it. Undoubtedly you will be wanting to join a Veteran’s group. I would recommend the A.V.C. It stands for genuine liberal principles and seems to have a real social consciousness—unlike the veterans organizations of previous wars. Among some of the things the AVC stands for are the following: An INTERNATIONAL veterans’ organization to help assure world peace. (This doesn’t sound like the intense nationalism so typical of reactionary veteran groups); active participation of the U.S. in the U.N.O. (inadequate and imperfect as it is) to stop any threat of aggression & to promote social & economic measures WHICH WILL REMOVE THE CAUSES OF WAR; thorough social & economic security for ALL citizens with no special priveledges for any group.12 These things do not sound like the flag-waving, super-patriotic fools of the American Legion13 or the V.F.W.14 The A.V.C. has made several statements in public asking for more fair treatment of conscientious objectors, especially in regard to releases. I feel that this is an organization that every thinking veteran concerned with the future of the country should join. Ask Ed to give you some of the literature from the organization, send in the membership application blank & become a brother with me. It’s a good deal! . . . Yes, sometime send the camera. I would like to get some pictures of Florida before leaving. But no hurry. I’ll be here for some time yet. However, when I come to think of it, if the Congress fails to re-new the present Selective Service Act, we’ll all be releleased [sic] by May 15th. This is all I have room for. Al ★★★

AGD-FRD/CDD, 4 March 1946, Mulberry, Florida Dear Frank & Chris. . . . . . . I’m going to start writing to the various State agencies to which you referred me. I already wrote to U.N.R.R.A. and would gladly take a job with them even if it were “just for the adventure!” Ed Francel is now employed by that agency and is somewhere overseas, I don’t know where. Perhaps I should go to Germany to get me a nice cultured wife! I suppose you have been corresponding with Bill McDermitt [sic] in the Nebraska set-up.15 He has been writing to me and attempting to get me back

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on the staff. However, as long as I’m still tied by Selective Service and this bum leg, I can make no committments. Bill is a fine person just about our age. He is flexible in the interpretation and handling of Merit System regulations and a wonderful person with whom to work. I went to his office last October and had a talk with him. I was especially interested in discovering his attitude toward me since I have been in conchie camps. He was completely accepting and told me that there would be no discrimination because of my C.O. stand. He stated emphatically that merit alone was the basis for selection of personnel. But by this time I suspect that some veteran’s preferance has been adopted. Have you met David Deener since you’ve been home? Dad writes that he is teaching at Pitt. Dave is not only exceptionally capable, but he is a very welladjusted person with a wholesome outlook. He is an all-around person whose friendship I want to hold. What do you know about David and his family? Ed Dobroski has written me several times. It was he who sent me the literature that got me to join the A.V.C. Ed is stimulating and interesting, but his egocentricity is boundless and sometimes his letters fall to an infantile dribble. Since I have been in C.P.S. and have had to live close to and with men, I’ve learned the value of simple, well adjusted friends. I regret now, more than ever, that I didn’t have the opportunity to experience dormitory life while going to college. I’m sure that, had I had that experience earlier, I would not have had the tendency to choose the eccentric as friends. The C.P.S. experience has caused me to change much of my philosophy, to set up a different set of standards, and to evaluate people altogether differently. I’ve lived beside the eccentric artist and have learned to know him and understand him a little better. I’ve lived beside the wild-eyed radical, the religious bigot, the dietary faddist, the intellectual philosopher, the sensitive musician and these all have their place, but as for me the simple, natural, well adjusted citizen with a broad understanding and a wide range of tollerance is the person who wears best as a friend. There are a lot of such people in America, too. They are found in all walks of life and have much to contribute as well as the ability to take. Eccentric people are essentially ego-centric, self-centered, immature and unable to give and take.

I meant to mention the pen with which I am writing. It is one of these new “dry ink” pens.16 You’ve probably seen them advertised. One of our men here got half a dozen and loaned them out with the hope of selling them. They write for two years without refilling. They write equally well under water as above water (?!) Our man wants to sell them for $5.00, the usual cost is $12.50[.] I like the pen. It seems to have many advantages over the old style, providing it is

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reliable. What do you think of this “dry-ink letter”? It looks more like indelible pencil than ink, doesn’t it?

A word about my leg. I went back to the hospital last Friday. The pins were pulled and the braces taken off. The original doctor who had the case left the hospital and two new doctors took over. They were not all satisfied with the way the leg was healing so they put on a cast from my toes to my hip. This, of course, is a miserable thing and I hate it like the dickens, but if it will help to make the leg normal, I’m willing to endure with it for two weeks at which time I return to the hospital. I don’t know why the 2 new doctors were dissatisfied except that they felt that the pins in the ankle were too short for proper adjustment of the brace. At any rate, it seems that it will be sometime before things are normal with me. I’m getting around on crutches still, but the awkwardness of the cast, and my inability to bend my knee limits my activities considerably. I sent you a copy of our Camp paper [Box 96] last week. Most of the material is stuff that would not interest you, as it is put out by Mennonites (except me) for Mennonites, but I call to your attention Dave Shank’s article, “Race Criminals” on page 7 (I believe). Dave is a young college student from Goshen, Indiana with considerably more than average intellectual endowment. His article is forceful and strikes at the core of the so-called “race problem.” This last week-end 17 of us men went to Daytona Beach to visit at the Bethune-Cookman College.17 You probably remember hearing Mrs. Mary Bethune speak at Chautauqua somewhere around 1936 or ’37.18 BethuneCookman is one of the outstanding Negro Colleges in America. We had a great experience in brotherhood there. In the morning we met with the faculty and discussed pacifism and race-relations informally. The faculty is made up of exceptionally competent men and women with Ph.D’s, M.A.’s, and A.B.’s, all Negroes, not because they want an all Negro faculty, but because Florida law prohibits their hiring whites. After the discussion with the faculty we went to the auditorium for a special all-college assembly. Here we heard special music by the college chorus and our own Camp Quartet, and a friend of mine, William [H.] Yoder spoke on the Mennonite Heritage and I spoke on Principles of Peace. I have been speaking more and more in public during the past several years and have just about broken down all the stage fright I ever had. I sense the importance of public speaking to the cause of peace and hope to do more of it in the future with more polish and more certainty. At any rate, we had a very great experience sharing our views with these 300 Negro students of the College. After this assembly program we had dinner at the college dining room. We were unable to eat with the students because of overcrowded conditions, but we did eat with a number of teachers. After dinner we had a ball game

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with the college and won, 13 to 11. During part of the game I attended a music appreciation class taught by a Mrs. Heckett (or something like that) who has degrees from Juliard [sic] and Oberlin.19 She did a beautiful job, illustrating her various points, not with phonograph recordings, but with herself at the piano. On Sunday we went to Sunday School with the student body and then later attended a Negro Methodist Church. We just happened to get in on a communion Sunday and had the experience of taking communion at the alter [sic] with these Negro friends. Needless to say, they were overjoyed at our complete disregard of the traditional discriminatory practices. At no time did we allow ourselves to be seated in segregation. Our men always scattered themselves throughout the audiences. The college itself, of course, does not practice segregation. Some years ago when Mrs. Roosevelt visited to speak at the College, the city fathers and white community leaders wanted a section in the auditorium “reserved” for whites. Mrs. Bethune flatly refused the request. Now, whenever concerts, oratorios, plays and other programs are given at the college the whites and the blacks sit together as brothers. The bigots, of course, remain home. Each Sunday afternoon a community program is given which is attended by a large audience of both whites and blacks. The quality of program is high and through it the Negro is winning a place in the Community at Daytona. I saw the 17-year old epileptic boy I took to Daytona in 1943. Had Sunday dinner with him and his family. I had invited a girl friend along—Ann Heckman—and, sure enough, right at the dinner table the boy went into a gran mal attack.20 But he is deteriorating progressively and his case is beginning to look quite hopeless. Sometime when I haven’t written so much I want to comment on your remarks about Christianity and God which you have made in many of your letters. But to cover the subject adequately I should write one letter exclusively on the topic. So, remind me, will you? But keep expressing yourself frankly. My friends here are as much interested in what you say as I am, for I do share your letter occasionally. Sorry you cannot get down to visit. Have you never thought of taking some temporary work while you are waiting? Jobs are available everywhere. Don’t spend your savings. Work while you wait! Hello Sally Lou! Yours Al ★★★

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AGD-FRD/CDD, 9 March 1946, Mulberry, Florida Dear Frank & Chris. . . . I’m just dropping you a note to let you know that I have written to all five of the social work agencies to which you, Frank, referred me. Of course, I have had no replies as yet. . . . But I believe you were wise in getting me started before the actual discharge comes. As you know, sometime ago I signed up for overseas duty in relief and rehabilitation work. In so doing I committed myself to two years work in the foreign field after discharge. I am reluctant, now, to go ahead with any assignment under the Mennonite Central Committee or under the Friends because it would mean no salary but just a subsistence allowance. Furthermore, the Mennonites do not maintain anything like what could be called good social work standards. So, as much as I want to go overseas, I believe I shall revoke my earlier committments regarding two years’ gratis service. But if I could go across under the UNRRA, I would snap at the chance, even if it were for nothing more than the adventure of it, I believe I told you that Ed Francel is with Unrra [UNRRA]. Where, I don’t know, but I’ve written to him, hoping that he may be able to give me some help in getting in. I neglected to say anything about your illness, Chris, in my last letter. I have been wondering about you, of course, and I surely hope that by now you are well. If you could only come down here for rest, relaxation and sunshine, I know you’d get well. I’d like to see you and the baby and Frank, too. I hope I could get up to Pittsburgh before you leave, but I guess that’s out of the question so long as I have this miserable leg. It’s still in a cast and I’m on crutches, so traveling any great distance would be out of the question for me. Last Friday I went to Tampa and heard Blanche Theborn, mezzosoprano, in concert.21 She did a beautiful job. So long for now,

Al

★★★

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AGD-FRD, 2 April 1946, Mulberry, Florida Dear Frank. . . . I shall answer your long and interesting letter while things are hot on my mind. I regret that you are not satisfied and seem so uncertain about your job. I have never been able to understand your failure to wait until the best possible position were available to you. Your concern about waiting around in Pittsburgh until your finances are depleted seems senseless to me. As I wrote you before, jobs are so plentiful everywhere—all kinds of jobs—that one needn’t wait around for anything while he spends his savings. I think you should have taken work anyplace—local work, I mean—while you waited for all the replies to your inquires to come in. It is not difficult to earn money now. While I was in Iowa, I took one week of furlough and went to work for a construction company that was building a new grain-elevator and pop-corn factory. In that one week I earned $72.00!! . . . Now that we are talking about jobs, I’ll tell you what I’ve done in that direction. I wrote to all the references you gave me in a previous letter—some seven or eight of them—and have received replies. The Honolulu job is out because of lack of qualifications. They wanted a medical social worker with hospital experience. North Dakota looks promising (except that I hate that area, it’s the most drab, godforsaken state in the union), Washington holds promise; Nebraska, of course, is attractive; New Mexico uncertain—I don’t believe I’ll continue contacts, although Miss McVey asked me to write to the Merit System Supervisor; the private agency in Seattle is definitely out, the old bag wrote me that because of my “war status” (she meant lack of war status) she was sure I couldn’t be happy in the community nor work effectively. Then there’s U.N.R.R.A., I’ve written again to Washington to the National Service Board for Religious Objectors, asking them to bring my UNRRA application before the proper officials. I’ll see what happens here. I’ve also written to the [American] Friend’s Service Committee inquiring about their foreign service. They are in need of trained social-work personnel at the present time. But their program is largely voluntary with subsistence allowances paid only. UNRRA, on the other hand pays a minimum salary of $3000.00. I could go overseas with the Mennonite Central Committee, but I’m not interested because of lack of standards. This agency, too, pays only a “subsistence allowance” and the program is largely voluntary. The job I am most interested in right now is one in Bangor, Maine, executive director of a small private agency, The Family Welfare Society. This job prospect came to me through the American Friends Service Committee. The

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salary is $3000.00 per year. I’m interested particularly because I want to get some experience in the executive field and here is a good starter, it seems to me. You wrote that you wouldn’t consider a private agency. Well, I think that is foolishness. It depends, of course, upon the agency and the opportunity offered. This Bangor job may not pan out at all, but at the moment it’s my principle interest. I was very much interested in your quotations from my old letters. Just the other day I was wondering about them and wanting to get my hands on them. Gertrude had written me suggesting that since I am laid up with this leg, I should write something and try to sell it to a magazine. I knew that those letters were full of material and thought I should get my hands on them. Someday I’d like to read them over. The portions you quoted tantalize me, bring back pleasant memories . . . Of course, there were many unpleasant things . . . I have all your letters since 1938. Perhaps, like you, I lost one or two, but most of them I have. Your war letters are with me here. Others are in Nebraska, and still others at home in Pittsburgh. I should like to go over them, too, sometime. As I write I have my little wind-up phonograph going here beside me. . . . About two months ago I took my violin to Lakeland where I learned of an old violin builder and asked him to re-build my fiddle, replacing the neck and fingerboard with new, wider parts. He took the thing apart and re-built it except for the fingerboard which we have been unable to purchase. I’ve been waiting, and waiting, but no violin because the fingerboard is unobtainable. The man who is rebuilding the thing is an old man somewhere in his 70’s. He is blind in one eye, but he says that in his day he built and repaired many violins. He promised to do the job for $5.00 providing I bought the parts. All totaled it will probably cost me about $12.00 which is cheap, very cheap. . . . Already he has replaced the neck and I am quite satisfied with the appearance of his workmanship. . . . I almost dread touching upon this subject of religion and God, because I know it will take pages and pages to discuss the subject anything like half intelligently. Nevertheless, I shall brave a start with the thought that perhaps later I shall have more time to discuss it more carefully. First of all, there are a number of fallacies in your statements that I want to point out: — 1. You reject “this personal God that Christians worship.” Christianity does not teach a personal God. The Bible itself defines God as “love,” as a “spirit.” God is a concept, a spiritual motivating force, a guiding light. That at this age you should think of Him as a man with whiskers, living in the sky is beyond my belief. God is love, God is truth, justice, beauty, light (in the spiritual and intellectual sense) nature (in that He is expressed there). God is the mysterious unknown and unknowable that

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always will prevail. This childish theory that science will eventually explain everything has been thrown out the window by the most competent scientific minds. During the past month I have been reading everything I could get my hands on regarding the atomic researches. Time and time again I have come across the statement that the mystery of the universe has been deepened and made more complex, more unfathomable than ever before. As we explore deeper, the mystery becomes deeper. . . . 2. You reject prayer “as an acknowledgment of personal weakness and inadequacy.” In the sense that one humbles himself and recognizes his own personal weaknesses and inadequacies while in prayer, then you are right, prayer does serve this function. But, is that bad? Are we not all weak and inadequate and do we not all need some strengthening? Are you so sure of your own strength and adequacy that you need draw sustenance from nowhere? . . . You reject prayer because it is obvious you don’t understand it. You call it a mumble-jumble to which spiritually weak persons resort. But it is not a mumble jumble, and history indicates that the spiritually strong are the very ones who resort to it. Gahndi [Gandhi] in India—the “spiritual leader of his people”—devotes one entire day per week, Monday, to prayer. During this day he remains in seclusion, speaking to no one, while he prays. . . . and other great spiritual leaders of our time spend time each day in prayer. These are the men who are spiritually strong, not weak. Prayer is not a mumble-jumble, it is a meditation and contemplation that puts one in tune with the infinite. . . . I am thoroughly convinced that if there is anything we as individuals are in need of, it is a thorough searching of ourselves for our own responsibility for the tragedies that surround us. We as individuals—you and I—are responsible for the war, for racial discriminations, for economic inequalities, for poverty and illness. It is time we searched ourselves for our own guilt rather than blaming these things on factors outside ourselves. Arrogance and pride will get us nowhere. Cock-sureness regarding our own power and adequacy will get us nowhere. We are weak, we are inadequate and we are to blame[.] We are guilty and we must recognize it, we must rectify it. It is time we saw ourselves as we really are and, as Peter did, weep bitterly. That is the first step toward rectification, toward salvation from our own contradictions. I am convinced that prayer has a searching power, that it gives insight, depth and meaning to life. I am not talking about the childish recitation of “Now I lay me down to sleep,” but I’m talking about something as deep and moving as listening to music or wandering in a deep forest. It’s strange how in

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religious matters people drag into their adult lives all their infantile concepts and then begin to lambaste religion on the basis of these concepts. But you don’t do that with music do you? No, you have had some growth there. You aren’t still listening to “Little Bow Peep” are you? You don’t stay at one place in literature, do you? You aren’t still reading the Brownie Stories or the nursery rhymes, are you? No, you have had some growth there, too. But where has been your growth religiously? Do you still see God as a man with whiskers in the sky, and therefore you reject him? Do you still see heaven as a platform in the clouds and therefore you reject it? Do you still see hell as a fiery hole in the ground and therefore you reject it? What has happened to your religious development? Do you remember the story about the pancake that got up and ran away?22 We read it in the 2nd or 3rd grade. How silly it was, how utterly ridiculous! It’s just a proof that literature is based upon false precepts and is entirely misleading. Surely, only the weak and inadequate resort to reading. It is obviously an escape from reality. I knew this would be a dreadfully long discussion.23 I’ve only begun, too! I wanted so much to talk about the Social Sciences, but I’ll have to let this go until next time. Don’t get the impression that I think religious matters should be the all-consuming thing of our life. No, we should be a well-ballanced pinwheel that spins easily with work, love, and play (recreation) on the other branches of the pin-wheel . . . Enough for now— Al. ★★★

AGD-FRD/CDD, 14 May 1946, Mulberry, Florida Dear Frank & Chris, Dad writes that you have reunited and have a place in Roswell [New Mexico]. I’m glad you are together again. That’s as it should be. We conchies have been living in a state of anxiety the past 4 or 8 weeks wondering what Congress was going to do about extension of the Selective Service and Training Act. You’ve probably heard or read that if the Act is not extended, we C.O’s will have to be released as there will be no legal grounds to hold us.24 Of course, we have been desperately opposing the passage of peacetime military conscription, not alone on selfish grounds, but fully believing

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that it offers no guarantee of a peaceful world or a “safe” country, safe, that is, from involvement with other militaristic countries. Obviously if universal military training is a guarantee that we will have peace, as the proponents argue, then Germany should have never been involved in war, France should never have been crushed, the U.S.S.R. never attacked.25 These countries had it and it didn’t guarantee their peace. As a matter of record, it seems to have brought them to war. Certainly, had they not had huge peace-time armies, there would have been a greater willingness to iron out grievances and difficulties in a satisfactory way to both parties. It seems to be naive thinking that peace can be maintained through a threat of power. But I didn’t want to get involved in a discussion of pacifist belief and philosophy. What I started out to tell you was that by midnight this evening I may be a free man if Congress fails to pass and the President fails to sign some sort of a stop-gap measure extending Selective Service. But being free and a cripple does not enthuse me much. I don’t know what I’d do. I’m still on crutches and still undergoing medical attention. I would hate to pull out of here when the job has not been completed—I mean the job on my leg,—and yet, I don’t have too much confidence in the doctors who have bungled along so far with me. To go home offers little promise, too, for I’d be a heck of a burden on Dad and I’m afraid he would sooner or later irritate me. So, I’m in a dilemma, but things aren’t as bad as they sound. Even if we are free by midnight tonight, there would be several weeks before the Camp could close up. I think for the time being I’ll try to get a job right here in the South until July or August and then try to get to Chautauqua for a spell. I should tell you something about my medical situation. Last Friday I went to the hospital 4 weeks ahead of schedule because my leg cast was breaking up and disintegrating. The steel support had become loose and was no longer giving support. The doctor decided to remove the cast and let me go without. This was a great relief, of course, but nevertheless it handicapped me, temporarily at least, even more than when I had the cast. I was getting so I could walk independently—that is, without the crutches—for short distances, but without the cast, I became completely dependent upon the sticks again. My leg looks fairly well but anything like normal. During the long period of disuse there has been considerable atrophying of the muscles and the darn thing looks like a pipe or a stick. I suppose it will come back to normal as the muscles build up again. I believe I told you in a previous letter that I was interested in a private family agency job at Bangor, Maine. I’m still corresponding here and feel certain I’ll take the position if it is finally offered to me officially. But there is a board of 15 members over whose head the approval of a conscientious objector would seem doubtful. A 15 man board of directors for a small private agency seems preposterous, to me, but that’s the set-up. The position pays $3,000 per year, which probably isn’t too much in Maine. I tracked the job down through

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the Friends [Quakers] and wrote first to a Mr. [Rowland] Leonard who wrote back that he formerly worked at the Soho Community House, knew Susan Soyak Goldman and had also met you and me.26 He was head of the Boy’s Department, I believe. Do you remember him? Anyway, it’s a stroke of luck, or it may be a stroke of luck if I get the job. I want to continue a discussion of the religious question with you, but will wait, now, until you make the next move. Suffice to say here that a dependence upon the Social Sciences would be an awfully precarious basis for one’s living since there is no stability in these sciences and, what is worse, no agreement. I learned this in teaching these Social Psych. courses here. The Sociologists, for instance, can’t even come to an agreement as to what a community is. Kimble [sic] Young says it’s one thing, McIver another, Malinowosky [sic] another, etc.27 They can’t even get together on simple definitions. The more exact sciences, surprisingly enough, are not much better. Later I shall point out some of the exploded falsehoods of chemistry and physics, ideas that for years and years were accepted fundamental truths and are now laughable errors of perception and observation. Grace wrote me recently after a very long silence. She also sent me a copy of the Upper Darby Telegram (or Observer, I forget what it is), the newspaper [in Pennsylvania] on which she is working. She seems to be getting along fine, both at home and at work. . . . . . . Did I tell you we are moving to Bartow Army Air Base? My new address will be Box 119, Bartow, Florida. You may address me at this address now as we are getting mail at both places. I’ve got to go now— So long,

Al.

★★★

AGD-FRD/CDD, 14 June 1946, Bartow, Florida Dear Frank & Chris. . . . Please note the new address as we are moving—at long last—to the Bartow Army Air Base where we will have much better facilities than here.

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The proper time to answer a letter is right after you have received it and are full of ideas to chatter about. Your letter is now cold and I find it difficult drumming up a discussion. But first of all I want to tell you about my leg. The whole story is one of incompetence, indecisiveness and incompetency. I’m so damn mad about the thing I could spit nails. Many months ago I suggested going to a specialist but the office force here at camp fussed about the cost being too high and suggested that I pay for the examination myself, which I couldn’t do. Anyway, when the attending physician finally discharged me he told me that the leg never would be normal, that he had done his best, but I would always have a bowed shin and probably some difficulty walking. With this news, I blew up, threatened to see a lawyer and take the case to court. Pronto I was taken to an orthopedic physician who gave me a very pessimistic report. He said the bone had been joined at an angle above the ankle and would cause a permanent limp, a peculiar gait, and probably “traumatic arthritis” for the rest of my life. In addition, he said I would never be able to run. A corrective operation would cost $400.00! We took the matter up with the Health Department here and they agreed to pay all medical, hospital and surgical costs, so I am going ahead with the operation[.] However, the cost of the care is the least of my concerns. Since the bone will have to be re-broken and reset, this means I’ll be laid up for another half year and will lose that earning power. I say this because my name has come up for discharge this month and I could go to work in July if it were not for this fool leg. I have never been off crutches since last November. This seems inexcusable. Now I’ll be on the damn things till next Christmas! What has irked me so much has been the endless stalling around. It’s the type of thing that goes on in the Army, no one assuming any responsibility, no one willing to make a definite decision, no one able to evaluate the problem. As I said, I’m going ahead with the surgical care if the stalling and red-tape is cut through. I may go to the north for the operation because better care can be given there at less cost. But at any rate, I think not another day should be wasted. If you want to do something for me that might hurry this thing along I’d suggest you write a letter to Mr. Elmer Ediger, C.P.S. Section, Mennonite Central Committee, Akron, Pennsylvania. In this letter you should express, first your concern about me and my leg; second your feeling that I should be placed in the hands of a competent orthopedic specialist immediately; third, your conviction that the financial responsibility rests with the Polk County Health Department, and fourth, mention the fact that the mishandling of the case is going to mean a loss of earning power since my discharge is in process in Washington now. I believe such a letter now would be just the thing to push this thing through. And I’m terribly anxious about it as I believe I should be

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hospitalized immediately. If you write, write on official stationary. No, I guess that wouldn’t be necessary. Anyway, do what you think best. Now about the job in Bangor, Maine. Leonard’s name is Rowland K. I was surprised to learn that he is kind of “dull.” He is executive secretary of the community chest of Bangor and Brewer, Maine, a rather responsible position for which there should be ample pay. Anyway, the Bangor Family Welfare Society is still interested in me but they have not made a final decision. I believe I told you they upped the salary to $3600.00 providing I teach two classes at the Univ. of Maine. Of course, this thrills me as I have enjoyed teaching in C.P.S. and wanted to get into some sort of teaching after going back to Social Work. But the whole thing seems too good to be true and I’m afraid I won’t fully qualify. Anyway, I’m pressing to the bitter end. This is really the kind of a job you should have gotten. If I lose it because of my leg, do you want to snap it up? They want a man by Sept. so he can start teaching during the fall term. I’ll keep you informed. I can’t discuss religion, war or peace with you in this letter as I’m too full up of other things. . . . So long for now

Al.

★★★

Al [Dietrich] to Rick [Lowenberg], 19 August 1946, Drexel Hill, Pennsylvania Dear Rick, I am writing under difficult circumstances, and this letter certainly will lack inspiration.28 I am in my sister’s home here in Philadelphia where I am recuperating from my operation. The radio is blarring out the latest jazz (which is always obnoxious if not absolutely upsetting to me), the two kids, Bobby, age 13 and Patty, age 12, are near me here playing cards and argueing— almost fighting—most of the time. This is a very typical American home, clean, orderly, well equipped, attractive from the physical standpoint, but absolutely barren of anything intellectual not to mention anything spiritual. I have been here now for a little over 3 weeks and now it is beginning to wear on

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me. The situation in this home is something beyond my understanding. Both my sister and her husband are college people, yet the cultural and intellectual standards in the home are not much more than on a grade school level.29 I am not telling you this because I want to criticize my sister or her husband. I love them both. I have a real attachment to them. But I do think that their situation indicates the general failure of our whole educational system. This home is one of many, many millions just like it all over the land. There is no social consciousness or even awareness here, unless it is an awareness of what the Joneses are buying and doing next door. In this college home Negroes are “niggers” and should be in their place, Jews are dangerous and will always try to cheat you, Americans are the finest people in the world and the American culture is the only thing capable of saving the world. You know this type of thinking, I’m sure. You’ve met it in rural areas, undoubtedly. I was going to write you the time I wrote Dahl, but I was thinking you might still be in prison [at Leavenworth] and I feared a letter to your home might open old sores and cause hurt to your parents.30 So, I didn’t write. Now, I’m glad to learn that your case worked out so nicely. I don’t know whether you know it or not, but when your situation came to my attention at Mulberry last December, I immediately wrote to the M.C.C. explaining your situation and requesting that they look into [your] predicament with a view to helping. Apparrently the M.C.C. until that time did not know of your arrest. They made contact with the Federal authorities and Camp administration in your behalf. The Camp director advised the M.C.C. that you no longer considered yourself a Mennonite and thereby the M.C.C. was politely told it could mind its own business. If I ever come across the letters we exchanged on your case, I’ll send them to you. I also wrote to the director of Mancos—I forget his name, now, was it Adams?31—Anyway, he never answered. Again I say, I’m glad your case came out as it did. I believe you were very courageous to do what you did. I sure wish I had experienced C.P.S. under the Friends and the Govt. like you did. My evaluation of C.P.S. now that it is all over is very negative. Sometimes I pity the M.C.C. in its struggle to straddle fences and compromise ideals and principles, at other times I am utterly disgusted and completely rejecting. I am quite ambivalent toward M.C.C., now accepting, now rejecting. Sometimes I feel they gave me a very—well, shall I say dirty deal? At other times it seems they tried to be my big pappy and treated me like an adopted child. —But getting back to my C.P.S. experience, I feel certain the 2 1 2 (plus) years spent in it were the most frustrating of my life, the most unproductive and absolutely wasted. There was very little in the situation that was constructive, very little that added to my experience. For the most part it was retrogression, going back to infantile concepts, argueing concepts and principles that should have

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been resolved years ago. C.P.S. to me has a thousand unpleasant memories to every pleasant one. I should never want to repeat the experience. I’ll quit now till I hear from you. This house is getting to be a mad home, now. Yours

Al.

★★★

Al [Dietrich] to Rick [Lowenberg], 10 September 1946, Bangor, Maine Dear Rick, I enjoyed your letter of August 26th.32 You expressed your attitudes about C.P.S. beautifully, and I agree with your viewpoint. When I left C.P.S. I was pretty bitter about it. In fact I was hostile, negative and anything but cooperative. I had been quite critical and had made charges of incompetence, stalling and even improper and unjust collusion by the administration against the interests of the men. These things were true, in part, but they are true in part everywhere. Although I don’t regret having made the statements I made, I do see things now in a different light—at a distance and more objectively. So, I am becoming aware of the benefits I gained from C.P.S. and some of the more pleasant aspects. In fact, I frankly miss it in some respects and am finding civilian life difficult to adjust to. This is hard to believe, but C.P.S. spoiled me in many ways. I find it difficult, now, to accept the burden of responsibility which civilian life imposes. I begin to shy away from decision making, and build up within myself a state of anxiety over the events and responsibilities that are crowding in on me. Handling and budgeting money is anything but a pleasure to me as I thot it would be, it is a distinct headache, and only adds to my general state of tension. I go to bed tired out, my eyes fairly popping from my head from fatigue. Before the war I was earning $165.00 per month, now I am earning $300.00, but I can do no more with this $300.00 than I formerly could with $165.00. God, it’s madening! I’m paying 60.00 per month for a buggy (roaches, not bed-bugs) room in this ancient (1885) hotel. It costs another 60.00 per month to eat, —and everything else is proportionately high. . . .

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Last Friday I went to a Maine Republican political rally. As you know, Maine is something like the South, only with Republicans in the saddle instead of the Democrats. I heard Senator Brewster,33 a nit-wit who, of all things, is aspiring for the presidency, Senator White,34 a more moderate, intelligent, cautious conservative, Rep. Joe [sic] Fellows35 from Mass. [sic] and others. Most of the speakers— all old men—drummed the same theme, save the country from the Communists in Washington. But they all won (as was expected) in the elections yesterday. Are you going to join Dahl in his cooperative community in Pennsylvania?36 Write and give me the details about that scheme. What are the plans? If I don’t snap out of this awful state of tension and anxiety I’ll land in Byberry—heaven forbid—or Dahl’s farm.37 Let me know what you are doing and thinking. I’m glad you are going to college, but I’m surprised you are regeresting [registering] at Iowa U. I thought you’d go to Goshen or E.M.S. in Harris[on]burg, Virginia.38 Better still, there’s the Lancaster Mennonite School where the boys must wear black socks “fully supported,” as the catalogue reads. Write when you can. Do you hear from Stan Voth.39 He went across on the cattle boats, you know[.]— Sincerely

Al

★★★

FRD-AGD, 27 November 1946, Roswell, New Mexico Dear Al, . . . Last week I accepted a job with the Veterans Administration as a social worker operating from their Pueblo, Colorado office. After my long and frantic search my efforts were at last rewarded, and I do believe I’ll like the job. According to the letter I received, I’ll be on my own in Pueblo, pioneering and developing a program of my own in connection with medical problems, supervision regarding treatment and any general case work services applicable to veterans and their families. The job pays $310 and some odd cents per month. After all the two-bit offers I got from everywhere else, this looked like a gold mine and I snapped

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at it like a hungry wolf. I believe it’s a better proposition than even Maine could offer. I’m to report to Denver for a one month’s training period beginning December 9th. I’ll probably arrive in Pueblo sometime near the end of January. Of course, you can imagine what a dither we’re in here. Chris and the baby will have to go back to Altheimer and stay until I get located in Pueblo and find a house or apartment again. This will make the 3rd Christmas I will have missed with Christine and Sally Lou. We regret it terribly but of course figure it’s worth the sacrifice. . . . Pueblo is going to be as frigid as Maine, as far as the weather is concerned. You came down thru Pueblo, I think, on our second trip West. No, I’ll take it back—we drove just about 40 miles south of Pueblo when we came over from Gunnison [Colorado] to go down to Santa Fe. Pueblo is located right at the base of the towering Rockies not far from Pikes Peak. It is a little industrial town with coal and small steel or iron works. I’ve been through it several times and am enthusiastic about going there. The town is considerably larger than Roswell and 115 miles from Denver. My job will take me into the whole of the Southeastern section of Colorado. From Pueblo east, I doubt there is much of interest. When it snows, it blizzards. Just before I got my Pueblo appointment, I made a trip to Albuquerque and had an interview regarding another V.A. job as Training Officer for the veterans’ job-training program. I was fearful I would not like the job but the salary was tempting—$283 per month. The Pueblo job came through and resolved that conflict. Then came your letter offering me fabulous sums to come to Maine. Maine sounds interesting, Al. I would sure like to see New England. Have you met any gals from the old-time New England blue-bloods whom you might marry—I mean if she’s rich? You ask why I don’t write Jarmilla.40 I did write her one letter, but I find I don’t have an interest to write her. After all, I’m married now and would rather play with Sally Lou and Christine. I should write lots more but enough now. Love from all of us

Frank

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APPENDIX A

Albert G. Dietrich, Sample Form 47

Copy SAMPLE FORM 47 SPECIAL FORM FOR CONSCIENTIOUS OBJECTOR Name

Albert Giles Dietrich

Address R.F.D. # 1, Beatrice, Nebraska, Gage County This Form must be returned on or before ____________________________ (Five days after date of mailing or issue)

INSTRUCTIONS A registrant who claims to be a conscientious objector shall offer information in substantiation of his claim on this Special Form, which when filed shall become part of his Questionnaire. The questions in Series II through V in this Form are intended to obtain evidence of the genuineness of the claim made in Series I, and the answers given by the registrant shall be for the information only of the officials duly authorized under the regulations to examine them. In the case of any registrant who claims to be a conscientious objector, the Local Board shall proceed in the ordinary course to classify him upon all other grounds of deferment and shall consider and pass upon his claim as a conscientious objector only if, but for such claim, he would have been placed in 309

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Class I. The procedure for appeal from a decision of the Local Board on a claim for conscientious objection is provided for in the Selective Service Regulations. Failure by the registrant to file this Special Form on or before the date indicated above may be regarded as a waiver by the registrant of his claim as a conscientious objector: Provided, however, That the Local Board, in its discretion, and for good cause shown by the registrant, may grant a reasonable extension of time for filing this Special Form.

Series I.—CLAIM FOR EXEMPTION INSTRUCTIONS.—The registrant must sign his name to either Statement A or Statement B in this series but not to both of them. The registrant should strike out the statement in this series which he does not sign. A. I claim the exemption provided by the Selective Training and Service Act of 1940 for conscientious objectors, because I am conscientiously opposed by reason of my religious training and belief to participation to combatant military service or training therefor; but I am willing to participate in noncombatant service or training therefor under the direction of military authorities.

(Signature of Registrant) B. I claim the exemption provided by the Selective Training and Service Act of 1940 for conscientious objectors, because I am conscientiously opposed by reason of my religious training and belief to participation in any service which is under the direction of military authorities.

(Signed) Albert Giles Dietrich (Signature of Registrant)

Series II.—RELIGIOUS TRAINING AND BELIEFS INSTRUCTIONS.—Every question in this series must be fully answered. If more space is necessary, attach extra sheets of paper to this page.

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1.

Describe the nature of your belief which is the basis of your claim made in Series I above. I believe that the highest value in this civilization is the individual personality because in it dwells the spirit of the living God. I believe that there is a world wide unity of the human family and that a friendly society of all peoples may only come when every individual recognizes the possibilities of love and understanding as a basis for discovering the truth, for dispelling antagonisms and reconciling peoples everywhere. I hold that the greatest sin is to destroy a human personality and I accept the Lord’s commandment, “Thou shalt not kill.” (Ex 20:13) without reservations as to time, place, circumstances or commandment to the contrary from any man. I further accept the principles of love as espoused by Jesus Christ. I believe that I can find personal happiness and contribute constructively to my society only by living to the best of my ability according to these principles of love. To go to war and kill or to otherwise contribute indirectly to the destruction of others would be to me a violation of the commandment of God, a violation of the principles of love as taught by Jesus Christ, and a violation of my own conscience. 2.

Explain how, when, and from whom or from what source you received the training and acquired the belief which is the basis of your claim made in Series I above. I was born in a Methodist home where religion had a reasonable emphasis in the family’s early life. My mother, through the example of her own living, taught me the ways of peace. She always told her children that they should not hate anyone and during the first World War she often told us, in spite of the fact that she had been born in England, that we should not hate even the Kaiser. When I was 13 years of age I studied my Methodist Catechism and entered the Church. My family later broke with the Church so far as active participation is concerned & when I was in high school, my attitude for a time became hostile and resentful toward the Church. I next became interested in the so-called liberal movement in the country and began reading such magazines as the New Republic and The Nation where I found at that time a great amount of opposition to war. I became interested in Socialism and studied about this type of society. There, too, I studied about the futility of war. When I was in College I regularly attended the annual “peace day” meetings and broadened by [my] concept about peace by talking with many pacifists. As a freshman in College I entered the R.O.T.C. and soon became upset about the course and the purpose for which I was receiving my training. I dropped the military course at the end of my second year which was the earliest date at which I could drop the subject after once having begun it. In 1936 I entered the

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field of Social Work because I had a warm feeling for humanity and wanted to contribute all I could toward the imporvement [sic] of society and the greater happiness of mankind. 3.

Give the name and present address of the individual upon whom you rely most for religious guidance. Rev. Walter Dyck, 1408 North 9th Street, Beatrice, Nebraska.

4. Under what circumstances, if any, do you believe in the use of force? I believe that in any situation love is more powerful than force. Persuasion based on a sympathetic understanding of the other person’s viewpoint will work where force looses a chain of hostility, resentment, hatred and retaliation. I am ready to give up my life for the principles for which I stand, but under no circumstances will I be guilty of taking another person’s life. 5.

Describe the actions and behavior in your life which in your opinion most conspicuously demonstrate the consistency and depth of your religious convictions. I have dedicated my life to social work in spite of the fact that many more remunerative occupations have been open to me. This is a dedication to humanity for constructive purposes to relieve suffering, give encouragement and increase human happiness where people are in trouble. 6. Have you ever given public expression, written or oral, to the views herein expressed as the basis for your claim made in Series I above? If so, specify when and where. Yes. At the first Mennonite Church in Beatrice, Nebraska, repeatedly since September 1941 and also in the Second Mennonite Church in Beatrice where I was elected chairman of the Beatrice Christian Fellowship and have frequently expressed my views. I have also expressed my attitudes about war to student groups at the University of Nebraska when we gathered informally after classes throughout the 1941 Fall semester and 1942 Spring semester.

Series III.—GENERAL BACKGROUND INSTRUCTIONS.—Every question in this series must be fully answered. If more space is necessary, attach extra sheets of paper to this page. 1.

Give the name and address of each school and college which you have attended, together with the dates of your attendance; and state

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in each instance the type of school (public, private, church, military, commercial, etc.).

Name of School

Type of School

Location of School

Dates Attended From— To—

Thaddeus Stevens Langley High School University of Pittsburgh University of Pittsburgh, Grad. Sch. of Social Work University of Nebraska

Public Public Semi-public

West End, Pittsburgh, Pa. Sheridan, Pittsburgh, Pa. Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania

1920 1928 1932 1936

1928 1932 1936 1941

State Sch.

Lincoln, Nebraska

1941

1942

2.

Give a chronological list of all occupations, positions, jobs, or types of work, other than as a student in school or college, in which you have at any time been engaged, whether for monetary compensation or not, giving the facts indicated below with regard to each position or job held, or type of work in which engaged:

Type of Work

Name of Employer

Address of Employer

Social Work

Allegheny County Juvenile Court Family Welfare Bureau Div. of Child Welfare

3333 Forbes St. Pittsburgh, Pa Sioux City, Iowa Capitol, Lincoln, Nebr.

Social Work Social Work

3.

Period Worked From— To— 1937

1938

1938 1941

1941 Present

Give all addresses and dates of residence where you have formerly lived:

Name of City, Town, or Village Pittsburgh Pittsburgh Sioux City Sioux City Sioux City

State or Foreign Country

Street Address or R.F.D. Route

Dates of Residence From— To—

Pennsylvania Pennsylvania Iowa Iowa Iowa

735 Kerr Avenue 404 Sparta Street, 16[?]24 Douglas St. 1624 Jennings 5001 Stone Avenue

1914 1922 1938 1939 1939

1922 1938 1939 19__ 1941

4. Give the name and address of your parents and indicate whether living or not. Frank A. Dietrich, 404 Sparta Street, West End, Pittsburgh, Pa. (living) Louise (Edwards) Dietrich, (Deceased) 5.

Give the place of birth of your parents. Father: Clarion, Ohio. Mother: Blackpool, England.

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Series IV.—PARTICIPATION IN ORGANIZATIONS INSTRUCTIONS.—Questions 1, 2, and 3 in this series must be fully answered. If more space is necessary, attach extra sheets of paper to this page. 1.

Have you ever been a member of any military organization or establishment? If so, state the name and address of same and give reasons why you became a member. I became a member of the University of Pittsburgh unit of the Reserve Officers’ Training Corps in 1932 when I entered the University. I became a member because at that time, when I was 18 years of age, I had not fully developed a pacifist philosophy of living and the glamor and excitement of the uniforms and military display appealed to my youthfulness and immaturity. 2.

Are you a member of a religious sect or organization? (Yes or No) Yes. If your answer to question 2 is yes, answer questions (a) through (e). (a) State the name of the sect, and the name and location of its governing body or head if known to you: Methodist Episcopal Church. (b) When, where, and how did you become a member of said sect or organization? At the age of 13 I became a member of the West End Methodist Episcipal [sic] Church in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania after taking a preliminary study course in the teachings of the Church. (c) State the name and location of the church, congregation, or meeting where you customarily attend: First Mennonite Church, Beatrice, Nebraska. (d) Give the name and present address of the pastor or leader of such church, congregation, or meeting: Rev. Walter Dyck, 1408 North 9th Street, Beatrice, Nebraska. (e) Describe carefully the creed or official statements of said religious sect or organization as it relates to participation in war: 1. Mennonite peace principles are rooted in Christ and his Word. 2. Members of the Church are constrained to love all men, even our enemies. 3. The spirit of sacrificial service, love & goodwill promotes the hig[h]est well-being.

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4. Good alone can overcome evil, & the use of violence, therefore, must be abandoned. 5. War is sin. It is the complete denial of the Christian spirit of love. 6. Our supreme allegiance is to God. We cannot violate it by a lesser loyalty. (The above is not exactly the way these points were set forth on the original.) 3.

Describe your relationships with and activities in all organizations with which you are or have been affiliated other than religious or military: (I have been unable to locate the copy of this section of my record)

Series V.—REFERENCES Give here the names and other information indicated concerning persons who could supply information as to the sincerity of your professed convictions against participation in war: Name

Full Address

Mr. Edward Francel

502 South 12th St. Lincoln Nebr. Mr. Dwight Dell R.F.D. #5, Beatrice, Nebr. Miss Marion Hathway Univ. of Pittsburgh, Pgh. Pa. Rev. Reynolds S. 5th & Bell Sts, Weinbrenner Beatrice Nebr.

Occupation or Position Relationship to You Supervisor of Parole

None

Farmer Professor Minister

Friend Teacher Friend

REGISTRANT’S AFFIDAVIT INSTRUCTIONS.—The claim made on this form will not be considered unless it is supported by the following affidavit. (If the registrant cannot read, the questions and his answers thereto shall be read to him by the officer who administers the oath.) STATE OF

Nebraska

, COUNTY OF

Gage

, ss:

I, Albert Giles Dietrich , do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I am the registrant described in the foregoing questions and answers, that I know the contents of my said answers, and that each and every statement of fact in my answers to said questions is true, to the best of my knowledge and belief. (Registrant sign here)

(Signed) Albert Giles Dietrich (Signature or mark of registrant)

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Subscribed and sworn to (or affirmed) before me this __ day of __, 19__

(Signature of officer administering oath)

(Designation of officer) If the registrant has received assistance from an advisor, the advisor will sign the following statement: I have assisted the registrant herein named in the preparation of this form.

(Signature of advisor)

(Address of advisor)

The following statement was included on my original Selective Service Questionnaire: Having dedicated my life to Social Work and studied and trained myself for the job of helping people out of trouble, I find it totally inconsistant [sic] and religiously, morally and ethically wrong for me to become a part of those destructive forces that are tearing down and destroying what I have been trying to strengthen and rebuild.

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APPENDIX B

Albert G. Dietrich, Request for Presidential Appeal by Conscientious Objector [June 1943]

I am a conscientious objector to war. Because of my religious training and belief, I am unable to accept violence as a means of achieving an end. Above all, I cannot see myself killing my fellow men or directly aiding in their destruction. I have registered as a conscientious objector on form 47 in accordance with the Selective Service Act, but have been classified by my Local Board in I-A. This classification has been sustained by the Iowa Board of Appeal. As a conscientious objector, I cannot accept the classification given me as it requires that I be inducted into the armed forces and thereafter commit acts of violence against my fellow men which are strictly contrary to my deep religious convictions and beliefs. Were I to accept the classification given me, I should do so in violation of the dictates of my own inner conscience and violation of the word of God as it has been revealed to me. This I find I cannot do. Briefly and simply stated my religious beliefs may be summed up as follows: Human life is sacred. From it eminates [sic] the spiritual, in it dwells God. Our responsibility in accordance with Christ’s purpose is to save life, not to destroy it. (Luke, 9:55) Carnal warfare and violence is not in accord with the principle of Christ’s kingdom for the taking of the life, even of the most abject sinner, is a denial of that soul’s chances for salvation. Good alone can overcome evil, and the practical application of the law of love, therefore, is the only way that peace may be established and maintained among all peoples everywhere. On the basis of my deep convictions and beliefs, I am requesting a review of my case by the President’s Appeal Board and a reclassification in class 4-E. I feel that the Local Board and the State Board of Appeal have failed to recognize the sincerity of my convictions. It is evident that if I am retained in I-A classification an injustice may be done in that I shall be denied the 317

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opportunity of rendering my country any “work of national importance” during these most troubling and tragic times. I am a social worker and have dedicated my life to the art of helping people out of trouble. To align myself directly with the destructive forces of war is totally incongruous with the purposes and aims of my life. I cannot do it. I feel that my life must always be a testimony to the truth and the light as I see it, and wherever I go and whatever happens to me, this must be the purpose of my living. To date I have been unable to obtain specific information from Mr. Sterling Mutz, my Department of Justice hearing officer, or from the Selective Service Headquarters of Iowa regarding my case. Mr. Mutz did inform our local Mennonite minister, Rev. Walter Dyck, who made inquiries about my case, that he (Mr. Mutz) did not feel he had written anything damaging to my position in his report to the Department of Justice. In view of this, it seems proper that I should ask for a re-evaluation of the evidence submitted in my case. On June 26th I visited with the Iowa State Director of Selective Service, Brig. Gen. Charles H. Grahl, who told me he felt he could not make the request for a Presidential appeal hearing. He read to me a letter of transmittal which his office had written to the Iowa Appeal Board when it referred my records for a decision. This letter, in effect, was a recommendation to the Board of Appeal that my request for a 4-E classification be denied. This recommendation was based upon the belief that a person who has enjoyed the advantages of higher education as I have, and who has been so fortunate as to have had these advantages and privileges, especially educational, which many Americans have not had, should be willing to defend and protect that country and those institutions which nurtured him. The implication was that because of my stand against participation in war, I am unappreciative of the country and its institutions which have given me so much. To this I must say that I am deeply appreciative of the advantages which I have received in American institutions and my whole objective in life is that of preserving and strengthening those institutions which nurtured me. And more than that, I want to work for and, I hope, see the day when every citizen everywhere may grow up with free access to all the privileges and advantages and responsibilities which I enjoyed. The letter of transmittal which Brig. Gen. Grahl read me quoted from my form 47 as follows: “Having dedicated my life to Social Work and studied and prepared myself for the job of helping people out of trouble, I find it totally inconsistent and religiously, morally and ethically wrong for me to become a part of those destructive forces that are tearing down and destroying what I have been trying to strengthen and rebuild.” The letter then went on to say

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that while I would not join those destructive forces that are loose in the world and tearing at the things which we hold dear, a responsibility yet remained for me to join opposing forces in their effort to halt these “destructive forces.” Clearly, the interpretation given to my use of the term “destructive forces” in the above quotation was “Axis forces.” This is not what I meant by destructive forces. To me as a pacifist and conscientious objector, any war machine is a destructive force no matter at whom it is aimed or by whom it is guided. If it kills men and destroys property and breaks the spirit, it tears at the very core of a society based upon the principles of Christian love. It becomes a destructive force even to the people for whom it is intended to protect and defend. This is the pacifist view and the long-time view of the effects of war and it is the belief to which I adhere. I am convinced that ultimately and finally no one wins a war, humanity is always the loser. I cannot, therefore, join “opposing forces” using violent methods in order to halt “destructive forces” which are also using violent methods. I can only oppose all force and violence, wherever found and by whomever used, with methods congruous to my philosophy of life and to the wisdom and hope which I have. That vision and that hope is of a better society based upon the principles of love and understanding, a society toward which it is the destiny of man to move and for which I feel called upon to carry a small flame of light through a period of tragic darkness.

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APPENDIX C

Daily Schedule and Rules for CPS Camps Administered by the Mennonite Central Committee

THINGS YOU SHOULD KNOW The following information is designed to acquaint you with camp standards and practices. They are not rules or regulations; but they are suggestions, which will help you to adjust yourself to a happy camp situation. We ask for your whole-hearted cooperation.

DAILY PROGRAM Rising whistle .........................................................................6:00 A.M. Warning bell (breakfast) .......................................................6:20 A.M. Breakfast bell ..........................................................................6:30 A.M. Warning bell (work) ..............................................................7:20 A.M. Work program........................................................................7:30 A.M. Warning bell (lunch) ............................................................12:00 NOON Lunch bell ..............................................................................12:10 P.M. End of work day .....................................................................5:00 P.M. Warning bell (supper)............................................................5:20 P.M. Supper bell ..............................................................................5:30 P.M. First light blink (prepare to retire) ........................................9:50 P.M. Second light blink (quiet period) ........................................10:00 P.M. Third light blink (lights out) ................................................10:10 P.M.

320

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Albert Dietrich to Frank and Christine Dietrich, 1986

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1.

The lights will be blinked at 9:50 P.M. and by 10:00 P.M. everyone should be prepared to retire. At 10:00 P.M. the lights are blinked twice and the quiet period follows. This period is reserved for devotional study, and each dormitory captain is responsible for its reverent observance in his respective dormitory. At 10:10 P.M. the lights are blinked three times and all lights are to be out and everyone in bed.

2.

All men are to be present at breakfast. The rising whistle sounds at 6:00 A.M., and everyone should arise immediately.

3.

Every bed should be made before breakfast.

4.

Every camper is to assume individual responsibility for the neat and orderly keeping of his own bed and wardrobe.

Group responsibility in dormitory under the direction of dormitory captain: a. The entire dormitory is to be well-swept every morning. b. The entire dormitory is to be well-dusted every morning. c. The flower beds outside the dormitories are to be well-kept. d. The fire buckets in every dormitory should be checked at reasonable intervals and filled with water. e. Dispose of waste paper in waste baskets and burn in the incinerator; take old newspapers and magazines to the kitchen. f. Do not use stoves and heaters for trash, garbage, and refuse storage. g. No trunks, suitcases, or boxes are to be kept on the floor. h. Keep window ledges, fire buckets, and fire bucket shelves clear of all objects. i. Each camper is allowed only one suitcase on his closet; this suitcase should be dusted every day. Excess trunks, suitcases, or boxes can be stored in the store room. j. No soiled clothing is to be left lying around. All soiled clothing should be kept in a laundry bag. k. Shoes should be kept inside the closet; they can be kept on the shelf provided for them, or neatly lined up on the closet floor. l. Keep all clothing and personal belongings neatly arranged in the closet; however, the shelf is for your use, if you keep it neat. Keep the closet curtain closed. m. Do not lie on any bed except your own; when you leave your bed be certain that it has no wrinkles.

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n. Remove all things placed on your bed. The captain is responsible for removal of laundry of men who are away on furlough. Laundry which remains unclaimed for twenty-four hours will be returned to the ironing room. o. Remove all shoes and clothing from the floor of your wardrobe on Saturday morning to facilitate a thorough cleaning of the floor under your wardrobe. IMPORTANT! There is a possibility of camp inspection at any time. It is, therefore, important that everything be kept in good order at all times. 5. Meals will be served at regular times as indicated. “Straggling” is discouraged. 6. Radios should be kept at low volume in order not to disturb the man next to you. Since many good programs are available, you are encouraged to listen to the best. 7. Owing to the critical public relations problem involved, the attitude of the Mennonite Central Committee, the majority of the churches, supporting the CPS program, and the camp, all assignees are strongly urged to refrain from the use of tobacco. Your wholehearted cooperation will be appreciated. 8. AWOL means “absence from camp or duties without proper authority.” It is a serious offense and must be dealt with as instructed by the Selective Service System. It should be noted that an assignee can be AWOL without leaving camp if he is not in his assigned place or performing his designated duties. 9. Selective Service is very much opposed to the presence of cars in camp or cars kept in nearby towns. They have, however, given permission to have three cars at camp subject to the approval of the director, provided they may be used for camp purposes at any time. 10. Quietness should exist during all religious activities; all swimming, horseshoes, croquet, and other activities must be suspended. 11. Work after working hours—The matter of food production is an important part of the camp program and accordingly you may be asked occasionally to assist with such work after the regular working hours.

322

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12. Special concessions—Circumstances occasionally arise which necessitate special concessions. The director is willing at all times to make them if they are in the nature of an emergency. 13. Church attendance—The spiritual growth of every camper is a great concern of the Mennonite Central Committee, as well as your church and the folks at home. Everyone has an obligation in connection with the religious activities of the camp. Attending church regularly is an excellent way to aid spiritual growth and to show your appreciation to those making the CPS program possible. 14. Saturday clean-up—On Saturdays certain men are assigned to “clean-up” work. The men thus assigned are to work the entire day the same as those remaining on the project. If the duties assigned to you are completed prior to the end of the workday, you are to report to the clean-up foreman. No one is excused until he is officially excused by the clean-up foreman. 15. Medical care—Certain types of medical care are furnished by the Mennonite Central Committee. All appointments not arranged by the camp nurse will not be recognized for payment. 16. Visitors: a. Visitors are always welcome. b. Meals will be served to visitors if advance notice is given. The regular rate of 25¢ per meal will be charged. c. It is not possible for the camp to provide lodging. However, official visitors such as the General Director, Mennonite Central Committee members, Advisory Board members, ministers, etc., will be provided with lodging. 17. Shoe stamps—As CPS camps are not registered on the individual rationing book plan, no shoe stamps are available. Accordingly it is necessary to make application for special shoe stamps to the business manager. It takes approximately one week to ten days to secure these stamps.

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APPENDIX D

Albert Dietrich to Frank and Christine Dietrich, 1986

10 April 1986 Bangor, Maine Dear Frank & Chris. . . . . I guess it’s about time I wrote you to acknowledge the fact that you sent us a batch of those letters you typed up—42 pages, I believe, and then later, sent your “speech.” We read all with great interest. My reaction was varied. At first, when I read some of the unabridged letters, I felt there were parts that were boring, and I wondered if they would “go over” in your Men’s Thursday Evening Club. I’m glad it worked out so well. As I read your first mailing of the 42 pages, I felt there should be a lot of editing done, and even correction of some things that were in error. You did this quite well. But there seemed to be missing parts, and if you ever make an effort to get anything published, I think there would have to be some “filling-in” to be done. There were things in my letters that were obviously missing. For example, when I had that hearing in Lincoln, Nebraska, the hearing officer kept pushing me for my religious basis for my conscientious objector stand. I never mentioned this in my description of that hearing. I do remember quoting the commandment, “Thou shalt not kill,” and emphasizing that there are no qualifications in that commandment saying “except in times of war.” I also quoted Jesus in his Sermon on the Mount when he said, “Blessed are the peacemakers.” I pointed out that he didn’t say, “Blessed are the peaceful,” but rather the peacemakers, and this implied actively doing something about bringing about peace. Another thing I did not see in one of my letters to you was the situation in Des Moines when I went there with Mr. Root. He asked the Appeal Board people to let him see my record. They were very reluctant about this, but finally allowed him to see part of the record. They would not allow me even in the 324

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room when they gave him the part of the record. He came out and told me that they rejected me for a 4-E Classification (Conscientious Objector) because the basis for my stand was “intellectual and philosophical rather than religious.” It was after that that I began to prepare myself psychologically for prison. There were little things like these that I saw missing, and they seem significant and important, at least to me. But I also want to tell you something about my reactions to those letters. They called up an enormous amount of feeling from the past. It was as though I were being transported back some 45 years in my life, and involved in that terrible emotional struggle again. I started to cry and couldn’t stop. I was reading them alone in bed one morning and I was really shaken. It was your letter to General Hershey that triggered my upset. It was a splendid letter, and it was simply that strong support from a soldier to a conscientious objector that got to me deeply. Another place that upset me was my description of the hearing in Lincoln—just the size of the room and its coldness—was enough to trigger a marked reaction. One thing that struck me about the letters was the amount of details I had forgotten. I’m glad we wrote as frequently as we did and then saved the letters. In a way it was better than a journal because there developed in them argument on differing points of view. Then there were funny places that really made me laugh. For example, when Dad responded to my air-mail, special delivery letter by writing General Hershey, jumping in the truck and taking his letter to the Post Office in downtown Pittsburgh, and then crediting himself with being responsible for my change in classification through the Presidential Appeal. It was as though he had an inside track to President Franklin Delano Roosevelt!! Well, I did want to respond to your sending us all that material. I know we responded on the telephone, but you deserve more than that, because it is obvious that you put a lot of time and effort in pulling it all together. . . . Al

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Notes

Introduction 1. Autobiography [1942?], Albert G. Dietrich Papers (hereafter cited as AGD Papers). 2. FRD to AGD, 24 February 1943, Albert G. Dietrich and Frank R. Dietrich Correspondence, 1939–46 (hereafter cited as Dietrich Correspondence). When citing letters in the Dietrich Correspondence written from 1939 to 1946 by Albert G. Dietrich (AGD), Frank R. Dietrich (FRD), or Christine D. Dietrich (CDD), I have identified the author and recipient by their initials, and I have provided the letter’s date, but for brevity I have not included the phrase “Dietrich Correspondence.” When citing other letters and materials that appear in this collection, I have not used initials, and I have identified the source as the Dietrich Correspondence. 3. Al [Dietrich] to Frank and Chris [Dietrich], 10 April 1986, typescript copy in Dietrich Correspondence. 4. Frank R. Dietrich, “Preface” to typescript version of Dietrich Correspondence [late-1980s–early 1990s]. For Manty, the praying mantis, see also FRD to CDD, 20 July 1945. 5. For a good treatment of this theme, see Richard Aquila, ed., Home Front Soldier: The Story of a GI and His Italian American Family During World War II (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1999). His excellent introduction has informed my approach. 6. For a recent statement of this theme, see István Deák, Jan T. Gross, and Tony Judt, eds., The Politics of Retribution in Europe: World War II and Its Aftermath (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2000). 7. Particularly noteworthy are Judy B. Litoff and David C. Smith, who have coedited several volumes of letters written by World War II women: American Women in a World at War: Contemporary Accounts from World War II (Wilmington, Del.: Scholarly Resources, 1997); We’re in This War, Too: World War II Letters from American Women in Uniform (New York: Oxford University Press, 1994); Since You Went Away: World War II Letters from American Women on the Home Front (New York: Oxford University Press, 1991); Miss You: The World War II Letters of Barbara Wooddall Taylor and Charles E. Taylor, by Barbara and Charles Taylor (Athens: University of Georgia Press, 1990); and Dear Boys: World War II Letters from a Woman Back Home (Jackson: University Press of Mississippi, 1991). In addition to letters, important early studies of women and World War II include Karen Anderson, Wartime Women: Sex Roles, Family Relations, and the Status of Women During World War II (Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press, 1981), Susan M. Hartmann, The Home Front and Beyond: 327

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Notes to Pages 3–8

American Women in the 1940s (Boston: Twayne Publishers, 1982), and D’Ann Cambell, Women at War with America: Private Lives in a Patriotic Era (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1984). 8. I am aware of one published collection of CO letters: Adrian Wilson, Two Against the Tide: A Conscientious Objector in World War II: Selected Letters, 1941–1948, ed. Joyce Lancaster Wilson (Austin, Tex.: W. Thomas Taylor, 1990). 9. For this paragraph, including the quote, see FRD/CDD to SHB, 15 June 2002. 10. Ibid. 11. For the quotes in this paragraph, see [Albert Dietrich], Autobiography, AGD Papers. For Louise Dietrich, see also FRD/CDD to SHB, 15 June 2002. For more on the twins’ mother and maternal relatives, including their mother’s dramatic voyage to America (which included a ship fire and the reversion to sail when the engines broke down), see Albert Dietrich, “Journal,” 1946, AGD Papers. 12. For this paragraph, including the quote, see FRD/CDD to SHB, 15 June 2002. 13. For the quotes in this and the preceding sentence, see Albert Dietrich, Autobiography, AGD Papers. 14. Ibid; FRD/CDD to SHB, 15 June 2002. 15. For this paragraph, including all quotes, see Albert Dietrich, Autobiography, AGD Papers. 16. For this paragraph, including all quotes, see FRD/CDD to SHB, 4 July 2002. 17. For this paragraph, including the quote, see FRD/CDD to SHB, 15 June 2002. 18. Ibid. 19. Ibid. 20. For the last two sentences, including all quotes, see Albert Dietrich, Autobiography, AGD Papers. 21. FRD/CDD to SHB, 15 June 2002; Al [Dietrich] to Evan [A. Dirksen], 1 October 1999, Frank R. Dietrich and Christine D. Dietrich Papers (hereafter cited as FRD/CDD Papers). 22. For Albert’s YPSL membership, see Robert W. Root to Huldah W. Randell, 26 May 1943; Albert G. Dietrich, “Statement of Rebuttal,” June 1943, Albert G. Dietrich File, all in National Service Board for Religious Objectors (NSBRO) Records (hereafter cited as AGD-NSBRO File). 23. For this paragraph, see FRD/CDD to SHB, 4 July 2002. 24. FRD/CDD to SHB, 15 June 2002. 25. For an introduction to the modern peace movement and interwar pacifism, see Charles DeBenedetti, The Peace Reform in American History (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1980); Charles C. Moskos and John W. Chambers, The New Conscientious Objection: From Sacred to Secular (New York: Oxford University Press, 1993); Peter Brock and Nigel Young, Pacifism in the Twentieth Century (Syracuse, N.Y.: Syracuse University Press, 1999); Charles Chatfield, The American Peace Movement: Ideals and Activism (New York: Twayne Publishers, 1992) and For Peace and Justice: Pacifism in America, 1914–1941 (Knoxville: University of Tennessee Press, 1971); Lawrence S. Wittner, Rebels Against War: The American Peace Movement, 1933–1983, rev. ed. (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1984); Harriet H. Alonso, Peace as a Women’s Issue: A History of the U.S. Movement for World Peace and Women’s Rights (Syracuse, N.Y.: Syracuse University Press, 1993); and Frances H. Early, A World Without War: How U.S. Feminists and Pacifists Resisted World War I (Syracuse, N.Y.: Syracuse University Press, 1997).

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26. For the quote, see Albert Dietrich, Autobiography, AGD Papers. See also FRD/CDD to SHB, 15 June 2002. 27. For this paragraph, including all quotes, see FRD/CDD to SHB, 15 June 2002. 28. Ibid. 29. Mr. and Mrs. John Penner (and their daughter, Erna Marie, who was in her twenties), Route 1, Beatrice, Nebraska. 30. For this paragraph, including all quotes, see FRD/CDD to SHB, 15 June 2002. 31. Frank did his field training at Old Age Assistance and the Mothers’ Assistant Fund; previously, he had counseled teenage boys at Brashear settlement house in Pittsburgh. Albert completed his training with the Juvenile Court of Allegheny County and the Jewish Social Service Bureau. See FRD/CDD to SHB, 15 June 2002; Albert G. Dietrich to Charles F. Bragg, 30 March 1946, AGD Papers. 32. FRD / CDD to SHB, 15 June 2002; Albert G. Dietrich to Charles F. Bragg, 30 March 1946, AGD Papers. 33. For separation, less interaction, and independence, see Albert G. Dietrich to Sterling F. Mutz, 31 January 1943, AGD-NSBRO File; FRD/CDD to SHB, 15 June 2002. 34. Albert Dietrich, “A Study of One Hundred Applicants Rejected for General Assistance” (master’s thesis, University of Pittsburgh, 1941); Frank Dietrich, “A Study of Unemployables and Handicapped Employables Receiving Assistance in a Restricted Area (master’s thesis, University of Pittsburgh, 1941). 35. FRD/CDD to SHB, 15 June 2002. 36. Ibid. 37. Ibid. 38. Ibid; FRD to AGD, 25 August 1941; FRD to AGD, 30 August 1941. 39. For this paragraph, which includes only a sample of the Dietrichs’ cultural interests, see FRD to AGD, 17 April 1939; FRD to AGD, 1 November 1939; AGD to FRD, 7 November 1939; AGD to FRD, 2 March 1940; FRD to AGD, 25 March 1940; AGD to FRD, 9 August 1941; AGD to FRD, 26 June 1942; FRD to AGD, 29 November 1942. 40. FRD to AGD, 22 January 1942. 41. FRD to Dad [Frank A. Dietrich], 9 December 1941, Dietrich Correspondence. 42. For Frank on not becoming a CO or FOR member, see FRD/CDD to SHB, 4 July 2002. 43. FRD to AGD, 25 June 1944. 44. For the quote, see FRD to AGD, 18 October 1944. For this paragraph, see also FRD/CDD to SHB, 9 January 2003; FRD/CDD to SHB, 5 March 2003. 45. For Albert joining the FOR, see AGD to FRD, 2 October 1941. The FOR and WRL were affiliates of international radical pacifist organizations. The International FOR was established in England in late 1914, while the London-headquartered War Resisters’ International was founded in the Netherlands in 1921. For an introduction to the WRL, the FOR, and radical pacifism, see Scott H. Bennett, Radical Pacifism: The War Resisters League and Gandhian Nonviolence in America, 1915–1963 (Syracuse, N.Y.: Syracuse University Press, 2003); Wittner, Rebels Against War; Chatfield, For Peace and Justice; James Tracy, Direct Action: Radical Pacifism from the Union Eight to the Chicago Seven (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1996); and Brock and Young, Pacifism in the Twentieth Century. 46. FOR, “India’s Cause” (New York: FOR [1942?]), copy in Dietrich Correspondence, enclosed with AGD to FRD, 2 October 1941. For examples of this interwar literature, see Devere Allen, The Fight for Peace (New York: Macmillan, 1930); Richard B.

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Notes to Pages 12–16

Gregg, The Power of Nonviolence (New York: Schocken Books, 1966); Bart De Ligt, The Conquest of Violence: An Essay on War and Revolution (New York: E. P. Dutton & Co., 1938); Krishnalal Shridharani, War Without Violence: A Study of Gandhi’s Method and Its Accomplishments (New York: Harcourt, Brace & Co., 1939); and Jessie W. Hughan, Pacifism and Invasion (New York: War Resisters League, 1942). For a post–World War II study that extends the interwar literature, see Gene Sharp, The Politics of Nonviolent Action, 3 vols. (Boston: Porter Sargent, 1973). 47. For the WRL, see Bennett, Radical Pacifism. 48. Bayard Rustin, “Non-Violence vs. Jim Crow,” Fellowship, July 1942, 120, copy in Dietrich Correspondence, enclosed in AGD to FRD, 11 February 1943. 49. For Albert on Rustin, see AGD to FRD, 11 February 1943. 50. For quotes, see Rustin, “Non-Violence vs. Jim Crow.” 51. AGD to FRD, 11 February 1943. 52. For Rustin, see John D’Emilio, Lost Prophet: The Life and Times of Bayard Rustin (New York: Free Press, 2003); Jervis Anderson, Bayard Rustin: Troubles I’ve Seen (New York: HarperCollins, 1997); Daniel Levine, Bayard Rustin and the Civil Rights Movement (New Brunswick, N.J.: Rutgers University Press, 1999). Rustin’s link to the WRL is emphasized in Bennett, Radical Pacifism, chapters 4–8. 53. Mulford Q. Sibley and Philip E. Jacob, Conscription of Conscience: The American State and the Conscientious Objector, 1940–1947 (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1952), 45–52, 487; John W. Chambers, “Conscientious Objectors and the American State from Colonial Times to the Present,” in Moskos and Chambers, 33–37; Chatfield, For Peace and Justice, 305–306; George Q. Flynn, The Draft, 1940–1973 (Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 1993), 9–52. 54. FRD/CDD to SHB, 15 June 2002; FRD/CDD to SHB, 17 July 2004. 55. See Frank’s note on his typescript version of FRD to CDD, 18 September 1945; CDD to AGD, 9 July 1943; FRD/CDD to SHB, 9 January 2003. 56. Lee Kennett, G.I.: The American Soldier in World War II (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1987). 57. FRD to AGD, 18 August 1942. 58. Ibid.; FRD / CDD to SHB, 15 June 2002; Kennett, G.I. 30–36, 465; Wesley F. Craven and James L. Cate, eds., The Army Air Forces in World War II, vol. 6, Men and Planes (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1955). 59. For AAF technical training and noncombat GIs in this and the preceding paragraph, see Wesley F. Craven and James L. Cate, eds., The Army Air Forces in World War II, vol. 7, Services Around the World (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1958), xxii, 339, 344; Craven and Cate, Men and Planes, 472–74, 515, 629, 631, 637–41, 654; Kennett, G.I., 95, 129. 60. For wives following their GI husbands, see Kennett, G.I., 75. Similarly, approximately two thousand women followed their husbands and fiancés and lived in or near CPS camps. Rachael W. Goossen, Women Against the Good War: Conscientious Objection and Gender on the American Home Front, 1941–1947 (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1997), 45, 68. 61. Kennett, G.I., 72–73. Aquila also makes this point in Home Front Soldier, 8. 62. Frank R. Dietrich, Diploma (AAF Technical School, Radio Operators and Mechanics), Sioux Falls Field, South Dakota, 1 January 1943, copy in Dietrich Correspondence; Craven and Cate, Men and Planes, 638.

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Notes to Pages 16–19

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63. FRD to AGD, 3 March 1943. 64. FRD to AGD, 14 November 1943; FRD to AGD, 3 March 1943; for this paragraph, besides the citations to the quotes, see FRD to AGD, 12 January 1943; FRD to AGD, 24 February 1943; FRD to AGD, 9 March 1944; FRD to CDD, 15 September 1945; FRD/CDD to SHB, 15 June 2002. 65. FRD to AGD, 27 April 1943; FRD to AGD, 19 May 1943. See also FRD typescript copy of “Miss Christine Dickey Weds Corp. Frank Dietrich,” Gallup Independent, 15 May 1943, in Dietrich Correspondence. 66. Dick [Dickey] to CDD, 23 June 1943, Dietrich Correspondence. 67. FRD to AGD, 18 June 1943. 68. FRD to AGD, 12 September 1943; FRD to AGD, 18 June 1943. 69. FRD to AGD, 12 September 1943. See also CDD to AGD, 26 August 1943. 70. FRD to AGD, 12 September 1943. 71. FRD to AGD, 14 November 1943. 72. FRD to AGD, 9 March 1943; FRD to AGD, 27 March 1943. 73. FRD to CDD, 27 March 1944. 74. Ibid. For this paragraph, besides the citation to the quotes, see FRD to CDD, 24 March 1944; FRD to CDD, 31 March 1944; FRD to AGD, 7 April 1944; Craven and Cate, Men and Planes, 654. 75. FRD to CDD, 2 April 1944. 76. FRD to CDD, 5 April 1944. 77. FRD to AGD, 7 April 1944. 78. FRD/CDD to SHB, 5 March 2003. 79. For this paragraph, besides the citations to the quotes, see FRD to CDD, 26 March 1944; FRD to CDD, 27 March 1944. 80. FRD to AGD, 12 July 1944. 81. Kennett, G.I., 75. For Frank’s sadness over family separations, see FRD to AGD, 12 July 1944; FRD to AGD, 1 June 1944. Financial pressures exacerbated the problem; for instance, in May–June 1944, before reporting to Truax Field (from Chanute Field) Frank used a furlough to visit his father in Pittsburgh; however, since he could only afford one train ticket, Christine remained in Madison. See FRD to AGD, 1 June 1944. 82. For all quotes in this paragraph, see FRD to AGD, 6 October 1944. For additional examples of expressive letters, see FRD to AGD, 24 September 1944; FRD to CDD, 19 October 1944. 83. FRD to CDD, 20 October 1944. 84. FRD to CDD, 4 November 1944. 85. Ibid. 86. FRD to AGD, 13 November 1944. Between 1942 and 1946, the War Department interned approximately 375,000 German POWs in 155 (prison) base camps and 511 branch camps. The POWs, who arrived in the United States from battlefields in North Africa, Sicily, and Italy, should not be confused with the internment of nearly 11,000 people of German ancestry in the United States. To alleviate the wartime labor shortage, a POW labor program was developed. In order to situate POWs—who performed mainly agricultural labor—near work sites, branch camps were opened. In Arkansas, for instance, three base camps supplied POW labor to thirty branch camps. Altheimer was a branch camp of Camp Monticello, Arkansas. See Arnold Krammer, Nazi Prisoners of War in America (New York: Stein and Day, 1979), vii, xiv, 79–113; Arnold Krammer,

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332

Notes to Pages 19–21

Undue Process: The Untold Story of America’s German Alien Internees (London: Rowman & Littlefield, 1997). 87. FRD to AGD, 13 December 1944. 88. CDD to AGD, 28 December 1944. 89. CDD to FRD, 28 November 1944. 90. FRD to AGD, 19 January 1945. 91. FRD to CDD, 15 January 1945. For this paragraph, besides the citations to the quotes, see CDD to FRD, 19 November 1944; FRD to CDD 6 December 1944; FRD to CDD, 6 January 1945; CDD to FRD, 11 January 1945; and FRD to CDD, 14 January 1945. 92. FRD to AGD, 14 March 1945. 93. Ibid. For Sally Lou’s hemangioma, see FRD to CDD correspondence between 10 December 1944 and 26 February 1945; FRD/CDD to SHB, 18 January 2003. 94. For the quote, see FRD to CDD, [May? 1945]. For examples of his coded “Dearest darling” letters, see FRD to CDD, 26 March 1945; FRD to CDD, 23 June 1945. For his sea voyage to the Philippines, see FRD to CDD [May? 1945]; FRD to CDD, 6 September 1945; and the other letters he wrote during the trip. 95. For the Philippine campaign and the Battle of Manila, see Gerhard L. Weinberg, A World at Arms: A Global History of World War II (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994), 842–65; Robert R. Smith, Triumph in the Philippines, United States Army in World War II: The War in the Pacific (Washington, D.C.: Office of the Chief of the Military History Department of the Army, 1963), 237–308; Alfonso J. Aluit, By Sword and Fire: The Destruction of Manila in World War II: 3 February–3 March 1945 (Manila: National Commission for Culture and the Arts, 1994), 152–414; Gerald Astor, Crisis in the Pacific: The Battles for the Philippine Islands by the Men Who Fought Them (New York: Donald L. Fine, 1996); Frank A. Reel, The Case of General Yamashita (New York: Octagon Books, 1971); and Richard B. Meixsel, “Liberation of the Philippines,” in The Oxford Companion to American Military History, ed. John W. Chambers (New York: Oxford University Press, 1999), 547. For an excellent collection of photos that depict Manila’s destruction, see the Battle of Manila Jump Station, a Web site maintained by Paul F. Whitman, at http://corregidor.org/chs_manila/mjump.htm. 96. FRD to CDD [May 1945]. 97. FRD to CDD, 11 October 1945. 98. For the two quotes in this sentence, see two letters, both Frank to My Darling [CDD], [May 1945], Somewhere in the Philippines. For the destruction, along with the other citations in this paragraph, see FRD to CDD, 13 November 1945; FRD to CDD, 17 November 1945. 99. For the quote in the text (“The spirit of the people is amazing . . .”) and for the reference to Filipino suffering, see both letters, Frank to My Darling [May 1945], Somewhere in the Philippines, cited in n. 98. 100. Army Air Forces, The Official Guide to the Army Air Forces: A Directory, Almanac and Chronicle of Achievement (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1944), 289–91; Charles D. Bright, ed., Historical Dictionary of the U.S. Air Force (Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press, 1992), 232; Alfred Goldberg, ed., A History of the United States Air Force, 1907–1957 (Princeton, N.J.: D. Van Nostrand Co., 1957), 52–53, 78–82, 112–13; and “Numbered Air Forces” on the Air Force Historical Research Agency Web site, at http://www.au.af.mil/au/afhra/wwwroot/rso/numbered_airforce_index.html. 101. Apparently, the First Fighter Control Squadron and the Eighth Fighter Control Squadron remained together, as separate units, and were not assigned to a group.

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Notes to Pages 22–25

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Yvonne Kinkaid (Air Force History Support Office), telephone conversation with the author, 27 July 2004. See also FRD to CDD, 4 September 1945; FRD to CDD, 6 September 1945; FRD to CDD, 9 September 1945; FRD to CDD, 16 September 1945; FRD to CDD, 14 November 1945; FRD to CDD, 28 November 1945. 102. FRD to CDD, 27 June 1945. For Christine’s anxiety, see CDD to FRD, 20 June 1945. 103. FRD to CDD, 27 June 1945; FRD to CDD, 1 June 1945; and CDD to FRD, 20 June 1945. 104. U.S. Army flyer, located in Dietrich Correspondence with July 1945 letters. 105. CDD to FRD, 14 August 1945. 106. Ibid. 107. For this paragraph, besides the citation to the quotes, see FRD to CDD, 16 August 1945; FRD to CDD, 25 September 1945. 108. FRD to CDD, 2 September 1945; FRD to CDD, 5 October 1945. 109. FRD to CDD, 24 August 1945. 110. FRD to CDD, 5 September 1945. 111. For the quote, see FRD to CDD, 30 October 1945. For Frank and the atomic bomb, besides the citations in this paragraph, see FRD to CDD, 7 August 1945. 112. FRD to CDD, 4 September 1945; FRD to CDD, 20 September 1945; FRD to CDD, 3 October 1945. 113. FRD to CDD, 3 October 1945; FRD to CDD, 4 October 1945; FRD to CDD, 5 October 1945; FRD to CDD, 6 October 1945; FRD to CDD, 3 November 1945. 114. FRD to CDD, 17 July 1945. 115. FRD to CDD, 8 June (I think) [1945]. 116. For languages, see FRD to CDD, 28 May 1945; FRD to CDD, 11 June 1945; FRD to CDD, 11 July 1945. 117. FRD to CDD, 1 August 1945. See also FRD to CDD, 2 July 1945. 118. FRD/CDD to SHB, 14 November 2003; FRD to CDD, 18 June 1945. 119. FRD to CDD, 25 June 1945. For Frank’s interaction with Filipinos, besides the citations in this and the preceding paragraph, see FRD to CDD, 5 July 1945; FRD to CDD, 27 July 1945; FRD to CDD, 7 October 1945; FRD to CDD, 10 October 1945; FRD to CDD, 24 November 1945; FRD to CDD, 28 November 1945. 120. FRD to CDD, 5 August 1945; FRD to CDD, 17 September 1945. 121. FRD to CDD, 17 September 1945. 122. FRD to CDD, 22 October 1945. 123. Ibid; FRD to CDD, 9 July 1945; FRD to CDD, 13 July 1945; FRD to CDD, 25 July 1945; FRD to CDD, 4 September 1945. 124. For all quotes in this paragraph, see FRD to CDD, 10 September 1945. 125. Kennett, G.I., 22–23, 59. 126. FRD to CDD, 10 July 1945. 127. For the quote, see FRD to CDD, 18 July 1945. For Frank’s views on his fellow GIs see, along with the other citations in this paragraph, FRD to CDD, 24 October 1945; FRD to CDD, 10 November 1945. 128. FRD to CDD, 23 November 1945. 129. Craven and Cate, Services Around the World, 469. 130. Ibid., 432–73; Kennett, G.I., 92–93; FRD to CDD, 28 July 1945; FRD to CDD, 23 November 1945. 131. FRD to CDD, 8 June (I think) [1945].

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334

Notes to Pages 25–26

132. Ibid; FRD to CDD, 12 June 1945; FRD to CDD, 5 July 1945; FRD to CDD, 15 July 1945; FRD to CDD, 21 July 1945; FRD to CDD, 23 July 1945; FRD to CDD, 2 August 1945; FRD to CDD, 8 August 1945; FRD to CDD, 16 August 1945; FRD to CDD, 19 August 1945; FRD to CDD, 12 September 1945; FRD to CDD, 23 October 1945; FRD to CDD, 24 October 1945; FRD to CDD, 13 November 1945. 133. The Red Cross in the Philippines was closely linked to the U.S. occupation (1898–1946) and the American Red Cross. In 1905, with Governor-General William H. Taft presiding, American and Filipino officials created the Philippine Branch of the American National Red Cross. In 1910, the American National Red Cross replaced the inactive group with a Red Cross society. In 1917, in yet another reorganization, the American Red Cross established a chapter in the Philippines. In 1942, the Japanese abolished this branch and created an “independent” Philippine Red Cross. American Red Cross officials, who accompanied General MacArthur on his return to the Philippines in 1944, reestablished the Philippine branch, which became the independent Philippine National Red Cross in April 1947. Under Japanese occupation during World War II, Filipino Red Cross workers risked their lives to assist American POWs and Filipinos. See Alfonso J. Aluit, The Conscience of the Nation: A History of the Red Cross in the Philippines, 1896–1972, 2nd rev. ed. (Manila: Galleon Publications, 1972); Charlson Ong, The Philippine National Red Cross: 50 Years of Courage and Commitment (Manila: The Philippine National Red Cross and GMA Foundation, 1997); Craven and Cate, Services Around the World, 471–73. 134. For Frank’s musical activities, see FRD to CDD, 19 July 1945; FRD to CDD, 21 August 1945; FRD to CDD, 22 August 1945; FRD to CDD, 4 October 1945; FRD to CDD, 17 October 1945; FRD to CDD, 25 October 1945; FRD to CDD, 6 November 1945; FRD to CDD, 15 November 1945; FRD to CDD, 20 November 1945. 135. For Frank’s reading, see FRD to CDD, 23 May 1945; FRD to CDD, 11 June 1945; FRD to CDD, 12 June 1945; FRD to CDD, 27 June 1945; FRD to CDD, 25 July 1945; FRD to CDD, 20 August 1945; FRD to CDD, 6 September 1945; FRD to CDD, 11 September 1945; FRD to CDD, 18 September 1945; FRD to CDD, 21 September 1945; FRD to CDD, 22 October 1945; FRD to CDD, 2 December 1945. 136. FRD to CDD, 27 June 1945. For a similar description, see FRD to AGD, 27 June 1945. 137. FRD to CDD, 5 June 1945. For Conrad, besides the citations to the quotes in this paragraph, see FRD to CDD, 30 May 1945; FRD to CDD, 3 June 1945; and FRD to CDD, 29 June [?] 1945. 138. FRD to CDD, 24 May 1945. 139. For the quote, see FRD to CDD, 26 July 1945. For Frank and movies, see also FRD to CDD, 8 June (I think) [1945]; FRD to CDD, 13 August 1945; FRD to CDD, 2 December 1945; FRD to CDD, 12 December 1945; and FRD to CDD, 17 December 1945. 140. For the quote, see FRD to CDD, 12 September 1945. For his educational pursuits, see also FRD to CDD, 17 August 1945; FRD to CDD, 19 August 1945. For baseball, see FRD to CDD, 17 November 1945; FRD to CDD, 23 November 1945. 141. FRD to CDD, 2 September 1945. 142. For Frank getting drunk, see FRD to CDD, 20 June 1945; FRD to CDD, 24 September 1945; FRD to CDD, 13 October 1945; FRD to CDD, 19 October 1945; FRD to CDD, 31 October 1945. 143. FRD to CDD, 31 October 1945.

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Notes to Pages 26–29

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144. For Frank and the EMC, see FRD to CDD, 5 October 1945; FRD to CDD, 6 October 1945; FRD to CDD, 13 October 1945; FRD to CDD, 19 October 1945; FRD to CDD, 23 October 1945; FRD to CDD, 31 October 1945; FRD to CDD, 17 December 1945. 145. FRD to CDD, 23 October 1945. For his earlier reservations, see FRD to CDD, 5 October 1945. 146. FRD to CDD, 29 October 1945; FRD to CDD, 12 December 1945. 147. FRD to CDD, 31 July 1945; FRD to CDD, 11 August 1945; FRD to CDD, 17 September 1945; FRD to CDD, 4 October 1945. Frank thought that the Japanese should eventually abolish the institution of the emperor, but through “the democratic process together with a sound liberal education.” See FRD to CDD, 4 October 1945. 148. For the quote, see FRD to CDD, 16 June 1945. See also FRD to CDD, 17 September 1945. 149. CDD to FRD, 6 August 1945. 150. Ibid; FRD to CDD, 26 July 1945; FRD to CDD, 25 August 1945. 151. For the quotes in this and the preceding sentence, see FRD to CDD, 20 July 1945. 152. For the quotes in this and the preceding sentence, see FRD to CDD, 17 September 1945. 153. FRD to CDD, 29? June 1945 154. FRD to CDD, 27 July 1945. 155. CDD to FRD, 26 July 1945. 156. FRD to CDD, 9 August 1945. 157. FRD to CDD, 7 December 1945. 158. Ibid; FRD to CDD, 28 November 1945. For the Yamashita trial, see Reel, The Case of General Yamashita; Rod Paschall, “War Crimes,” in Chambers, ed., The Oxford Companion to American Military History, 782; Astor, Crisis in the Pacific, 446–48. 159. AAF demobilization began before Japan’s surrender. In March 1944, AAF military personnel peaked with 2,411,294 men and officers, and steadily declined to a postwar low of 303,614 in May 1947. In August 1945, the month that Japan surrendered, AAF military personnel totaled 2,253,182; in November 1945, 1,200,247; in December 1945, the month that Frank shipped home from Manila, 888,769; and, in January 1946, the month of his discharge, 733,786. See chart in Craven and Cate, Services Around the World, 566. 160. FRD to CDD, (Pay Day) September 1945. 161. FRD to CDD, 20 August 1945. 162. Ibid. 163. For the quote, see FRD to CDD, 12 November 1945. For Frank and points, see also FRD to CDD, 10 September 1945; FRD to CDD, (Pay Day) September 1945; FRD to CDD, 20 August 1945; FRD to CDD, 28 October 1945. Frank reported that in September 1945 GIs in the Philippines needed sixty points for demobilization; Kennett states that GIs required eighty points in September 1945, which dropped to sixty points in October 1945 and to fifty points at the end of December 1945. For demobilization and the point system, see Kennett, G.I., 222–24. 164. Frank A. Dietrich, Honorable Discharge (Army of the United States), 24 January 1946, FRD/CDD Papers; FRD/CDD to SHB, 15 June 2002. 165. FRD/CDD to SHB, 15 June 2002. For Metz, see also (in Frank’s typescript edition of the Dietrich Correspondence) Friedrich Metz to FRD, 30 September 1945 (translation from German) and accompanying typescript note by Frank: “Re: Letter from Friedrich Metz, dated 9-30-45, from a P.O.W. Camp in France.”

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336

Notes to Pages 29–33

166. For a list of the 151 CPS camps that includes the camp location, the group that operated each camp, and the dates each camp opened and closed, see Albert N. Keim, The CPS Story: An Illustrated History of Civilian Public Service (Intercourse, Penn.: Good Books, 1990), 106–10. For financial support of CPS by Mennonites and other peace churches, see Sibley and Jacob, Conscription of Conscience, 326; Perry Bush, Two Kingdoms, Two Loyalties: Mennonite Pacifism in Modern America (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1998), 79–80. 167. For CPS and its origins in this and the two preceding paragraphs, see Sibley and Jacob, Conscription of Conscience, 45–52, 110–23, 471–75; Heather T. Frazer and John O’Sullivan, “We Have Just Begun To Not Fight”: An Oral History of Conscientious Objectors in Civilian Public Service During World War II (New York: Twayne Publishers, 1996), xiii–xxv; Keim, The CPS Story, 7–33, 106–10; Wittner, Rebels Against War, 70–72; Bennett, Radical Pacifism, 72–74, 79–82. For Hershey, see George Q. Flynn, Lewis B. Hershey, Mr. Selective Service (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1985). 168. For an introduction to World War II COs and to radical pacifist CO complaints against—and social activism and resistance in—CPS and prison discussed in this and the preceding two paragraphs, see Sibley and Jacob, Conscription of Conscience; Wittner, Rebels Against War; Frazer and O’Sullivan, “We Have Just Begun To Not Fight”; Tracy, Direct Action; Stephen M. Kohn, Jailed for Peace: The History of American Draft Law Violators, 1658–1985 (Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press, 1986); Bennett, Radical Pacifism; Scott H. Bennett, “Free American Political Prisoners: Pacifist Activism and Civil Liberties, 1945–1948,” Journal of Peace Research 40 (July 2003): 413–33; Cynthia Eller, Conscientious Objectors and the Second World War: Moral and Religious Arguments in Support of Pacifism (New York: Praeger, 1991). For conscription and local draft boards, see also Kennett, G.I., 4–23; Flynn, The Draft; and Chambers, “Conscientious Objectors and the American State from Colonial Times to the Present.” Memoirs and biographies of radical pacifist World War II COs include James Peck, We Who Would Not Kill (New York: Lyle Stuart, 1958); Lowell Naeve and David Wieck, A Field of Broken Stones (Glen Gardner, N.J.: Libertarian Press, 1950); David Dellinger, From Yale to Jail: The Life Story of a Moral Dissenter (New York: Pantheon, 1993); D’Emilio, Lost Prophet; Anderson, Bayard Rustin; Levine, Bayard Rustin and the Civil Rights Movement; and Larry Gara and Lenna Mae Gara, eds., A Few Small Candles: War Resisters of World War II Tell Their Stories (Kent, Ohio: Kent State University Press, 1999). For the literature on World War II (and other) COs, see Peter Brock, Pacifism Since 1914: An Annotated Reading List (Toronto: Peter Brock, 2000). 169. For Mennonite theology and World War II service programs, including the foreign relief and cattle boat programs discussed in this and the preceding two paragraphs, see Bush, Two Kingdoms, Two Loyalties, especially 56–128; Paul Toews, Mennonites in American Society, 1930–1970: Modernity and the Persistence of Religious Community (Scottdale, Penn.: Herald Press, 1996), especially 129–83, 208; Melvin Gingerich, Service for Peace: A History of Mennonite Civilian Service (Akron, Penn.: The Mennonite Central Committee, 1949), 189, for “seagoing cowboys”; Guy F. Hershberger, The Mennonite Church in the Second World War (Scottdale, Penn.: Mennonite Publishing House, 1951); and Sibley and Jacob, Conscription of Conscience, 187–89, 305. For the cattle boat program, see also n. 215. 170. Al [Dietrich] to Bob [Robert Drew], 3 July 1946; Al [Dietrich] to Rick [Lowenberg], 19 August 1946; Al [Dietrich] to Rick [Lowenberg], 10 September 1946, all in AGD Papers.

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Notes to Pages 33–36

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171. Rick [Lowenberg] to Al [Dietrich], 12 August 1946; see also Al [Dietrich] to Bob [Robert Drew], 3 July 1946, both in AGD Papers. The government, beginning in 1943 in response to secular objectors who did not want to work in church camps, opened and operated four CPS camps: Mancos; Lapine, California; Germfask, Michigan; and Minersville, California. 172. On the hurdles of obtaining CO status, see Sibley and Jacob, Conscription of Conscience, 53–85, 388–98; Bennett, “Free American Political Prisoners,” 420–21, 430. 173. For his father’s position, see Albert G. Dietrich to Sterling F. Mutz, 31 January 1943, AGD-NSBRO File. For Albert’s willingness to risk prison or death, see FRD to AGD, 12 November 1942. 174. Albert G. Dietrich to Woodbury County Local Board No. 2 [sic], 12 February 1942; Albert G. Dietrich to Woodbury County Local Board No. 3, 1 June 1942; Woodbury County Local Board No. 3 to Albert G. Dietrich, 2 June 1942; untitled, undated document that begins “June 4th 1943: Order referring Registrant to Another Local Board for Physical examination received (Form D.D.S. 203),” all in AGD-NSBRO File. Following a medical exam on 6 June 1942, “tentative” was removed from Albert’s I-A classification on 15 June 1943. 175. Albert G. Dietrich to Board of Appeal, Iowa Selective Service, 19 June 1942, AGD-NSBRO File (this letter differs slightly from Albert G. Dietrich to Board of Appeal, Iowa Selective Service, 22 June 1942, Dietrich Correspondence); Albert G. Dietrich to Local Board Number [No.] 3, Sioux City, Iowa, 22 June 1942, Dietrich Correspondence. 176. The Socialist Party had a strong pacifist current between the world wars. See Bennett, Radical Pacifism, chap. 3. 177. For this paragraph, see Robert W. Root to Huldah W. Randell, 26 May 1943, AGD-NSBRO File. See also M. Guy West (Albert G. Dietrich) Appeal Summary, 14 June 1943; Albert G. Dietrich, “Statement of Rebuttal,” [June 1943], AGD-NSBRO File. Even though he attended Mennonite services in Beatrice, Albert declined to change his affiliation from Methodist to Mennonite because he thought that officials would view such a move as insincere; in fact, membership in a historic peace church would have virtually guaranteed him CO status. 178. For this paragraph, including all quotes, see Albert G. Dietrich to Sterling F. Mutz, 31 January 1943, AGD-NSBRO File. See also AGD to FRD, 10 February 1943. 179. For this paragraph, including all quotes, see Albert G. Dietrich to Sterling F. Mutz, 31 January 1943, AGD-NSBRO File. 180. Ibid. 181. Robert W. Root to Huldah W. Randell, 26 May 1943; Albert G. Dietrich to Paul Comly French, 26 May 1943, both in AGD-NSBRO File. 182. Albert G. Dietrich to General Lewis B. Hershey, 27 May 1943; Albert G. Dietrich to Paul Comly French, 26 May 1943; Albert G. Dietrich to M. Guy West [May– June 1943]; Lt. Colonel Simon P. Dunkle to National Service Board for Religious Objectors, 18 June 1943, all in AGD-NSBRO File. After an 18 June 1943 conversation with Captain Jackson B. Chase (camp operations legal section), Arnold T. Olena (the NSBRO case officer assigned to Albert’s case when Guy West left) reported that Chase, who appeared favorably inclined toward the case, seemed to discount Albert’s ROTC background and Frank’s membership in the armed forces. Arnold T. Olena, “Memo of Interview,” [18 June 1943], AGD-NSBRO File.

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Notes to Pages 37–38

183. The following people (most of whom were not pacifists) wrote Hershey on Albert’s behalf in letters dated May and June 1943: Mr. and Mrs. John Penner Jr., Frank R. Dietrich, Edward Francel, Ferne Bruneau, Agnes S. Donaldson, Edgar C. Wiebe, Mary Helen Boyd, Dwight Dell, David R. Deener, Miriam Ingebretson, Emmylu Goertz, Frank Edwards, Ruth Ezell, Emerson W. Shideler, H. G. Penner, Reynold Weinbrenner, and Marian Scott Hahn. For the names of additional letter writers, see Albert G. Dietrich to Arnold T. Olena, 21 June 1943, all in AGD-NSBRO File. 184. Albert G. Dietrich to M. Guy West, 3 June 1943; Robert E. Drew to M. Guy West, 3 June 1943; and M. Guy West to Albert G. Dietrich, 7 June 1943, all in AGDNSBRO File. 185. For Root’s review and Albert’s willingness to go to jail, including the quote in the preceding sentence, see Al [Dietrich] to Frank and Chris [Dietrich], 10 April 1986, FRD/CDD Papers. See also Albert G. Dietrich to Robert Root, 8 June 1943, AGDNSBRO File; AGD to FRD/CDD, 11 June 1943. 186. Albert G. Dietrich to W. Guy West, 10 June 1943; Albert G. Dietrich to W. Guy West, 15 June 1943; Albert G. Dietrich, “Statement of Rebuttal” [June 1943], all in AGDNSBRO File. In addition to Robert Root, Emerson W. Shideler, the pastor of the South Beatrice Church of the Brethren, examined Albert’s files and the Iowa appeal board’s ruling in the presence of Sterling F. Mutz, the hearing officer, in Lincoln, Nebraska. According to Shideler, Mutz “insisted on a rigidly narrow and literalistic interpretation of religion” and dismissed Albert’s explanations as “philosophic.” Emerson W. Shideler to Major General Lewis B. Hershey, 17 June 1943, AGD-NSBRO File. 187. Local Board No. 3, Woodbury County, “Conscientious Objector Report” (Albert G. Dietrich), [September 1943]; Lewis B. Hershey to State Director [of Selective Service] of Nebraska, 30 September 1943, all in AGD-NSBRO File. Hershey granted CO status to over 90 percent of the more than 1,500 “presidential appeals” that he reviewed. See Bush, Two Kingdoms, 72. 188. NSBRO, Report of Transfer (Albert G. Dietrich), [October 1944], AGD-NSBRO File. 189. For “monument to peace,” see Paul G. Tschetter, the camp director, quoted in Rushmore Reflector, September–October 1944. For Hill City, see also Gingerich, Service for Peace, 163–69. 190. Stanley Voth, interview with the author, 10 July 2002. 191. Rushmore Reflector, February 1944; AGD to FRD/CDD, 6 June 1944. 192. NSBRO, Individual Record of Campee (Albert G. Dietrich), 8 August 1946, AGD-NSBRO File. 193. Rushmore Reflector, June–July 1944; AGD to FRD/CDD, 6 June 1944. Several copies of the music committee’s concert programs are located in AGD Papers. 194. Rushmore Reflector, January 1944 and March 1944. 195. NSBRO, Individual Record of Campee (Albert G. Dietrich), 8 August 1946, AGD-NSBRO File. 196. Rushmore Reflector, September–October 1944; Voth interview; Bryon Augsturger, interview with the author, 20 June 2002; Rick Lowenberg, interview with the author, 20 June 2002. 197. Rushmore Reflector, May 1944. In the United States, Brittain’s lengthy article first appeared in Fellowship, March 1944. For Albert’s work as feature editor and production manager, see Rushmore Reflector, February 1944 and August 1944. 198. Rushmore Reflector, June–July 1944.

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199. Rushmore Reflector, August 1944. 200. Rushmore Reflector, January 1944 and April 1944; Voth interview. 201. NSBRO, Request for Transfer (Albert G. Dietrich), 8 September 1944, AGDNSBRO File; AGD to FRD/CDD, 6 June 1944. 202. For Albert’s leadership role, including the quote, see Lowenberg, interview. See also Augsturger interview, and Voth interview. 203. Voth interview; Augsturger interview. 204. Voth interview. 205. Lowenberg interview; Voth interview. 206. For the quotes, see AGD-FRD, 3 October 1944; see also AGD to FRD, 11 September 1944; Paul G. Tschetter, “An Important Announcement to the Men in Camp” [15 September 1944], in folder marked “Oct. 43–Oct. 44,” series C, box 91, Center on Conscience and War Records. 207. Mahlan E. Miller et al. [71 Hill City COs] to Mennonite Central Committee (petition), 8 September 1944, in folder marked “Oct. 43–Oct. 44,” series C, box 91, Center on Conscience and War Records. 208. For the quotes, see Albert G. Dietrich to Mennonite Central Committee, 9 September 1944. For a similar letter, see W. Edmund Sinden to Mennonite Central Committee, 11 September 1944, both in folder marked “Oct. 43–Oct. 44,” series C, box 91, Center on Conscience and War Records. 209. Voth interview. 210. For this paragraph, including all quotes, see A. J. Birdsell to FBI, 2 September 1944. See also attached A. S. Imirie to J. N. Weaver, 14 September 1944, both in folder marked “Oct. 43–Oct. 44,” series C, box 91, Center on Conscience and War Records. See also Gingerich, Service for Peace, 164–165. 211. For Albert’s arrival date at Denison, see NSBRO, Report of Transfer (Albert G. Dietrich) [October 1944], AGD-NSBRO File. For the MCC request that Albert transfer to Denison to teach, see AGD to FRD/CDD, 6 June 1944, and NSBRO, Request for Transfer (Albert G. Dietrich), 8 September 1944, AGD-NSBRO File. 212. For the quotes in this and the preceding sentence, see AGD to FRD, 1 December 1945; for this paragraph, see AGD to FRD, 25 November 1944; AGD to FRD/CDD, 6 June 1944; and AGD to FRD/CDD, 25 January 1945; see also the Vanguard, 7 October 1941 and December 1944–January 1945; Gingerich, Service for Peace, 114–21. 213. Vanguard (Brotherhood Issue), February 1945; Vanguard, October 1945; Vanguard, June 1945. 214. For this paragraph, including all quotes, see the Vanguard, October 1945. 215. In accord with the 1943 Starnes Amendment to the 1944 War Department appropriation bill, an amendment that prohibited COs from overseas assignments, Albert needed to obtain from his draft board reclassification to an essential occupational group to qualify for an UNRRA job. Flooded with applications from Army personnel, the UNRRA decided not to consider COs. The NSBRO suggested that the UNRRA had an “apparent fear” of hiring COs, though in fact the UNRRA needed to get men to Europe by 1 July 1945, which made it “almost impossible” to obtain clearance for applicants from CPS. One year later, Albert again investigated the possibility of UNRRA work, only to learn that there was little likelihood that CPS would release men to the UNRRA (except to a cattle boat program that transported livestock to Europe—mainly Greece, Poland, and Yugoslavia—to rehabilitate herds devastated by the war). Stanley Voth, who served with Albert at Hill City and Mulberry, enlisted in

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the cattle boat program (a CPS assignment). Participating COs were organized into the “UNRRA Reserve Unit”; in the spring of 1946, Voth worked as a crew member— a “CPS cowboy” or “seagoing cowboy”—on two boats that transported horses and cattle to Poland. In 1945, Frank unsuccessfully applied to the UNRRA, which had received 30,000 applicants for 1,300 jobs. For Albert and the UNRRA, see Albert G. Dietrich to Don Smith, 12 May 1945; Claude C. Shotts to Albert G. Dietrich, 15 May 1945; Claude C. Shotts to Albert G. Dietrich, 4 June 1945; Claude C. Shotts to Albert G. Dietrich, 30 June 1945; Albert G. Dietrich to Claude C. Shotts, 1 April 1946; and Branford P. Miller to Albert G. Dietrich, 5 April 1946, all in AGD-NSBRO File. For Voth, see Voth interview; and Stan [Voth] to Al [Dietrich], 6 May 1946, AGD Papers, which includes the “CPS cowboy” quote. For Frank, see FRD to CDD, 4 June 1945; FRD to AGD, 27 June 1945; and FRD to CDD, 25 September 1945. For the Starnes Amendment, the UNRRA, and cattle boat program, see n. 169. 216. NSBRO, Request for Transfer (Albert G. Dietrich), 15 March 1945; J. N. Weaver to A. S. Imirie, 25 September 1945; and Walter H. Dyck to National Service Board, 2 October 1945, all in AGD-NSBRO File. Albert expressed a preference to transfer to the Poughkeepsie Hospital Unit instead of Mulberry. See Robert Kreider to Joe Weaver, 29 June 1945, AGD-NSBRO File. 217. Between leaving Denison and reporting to Mulberry on 1 November 1945, Albert had a fifteen-day furlough. NSBRO, Report of Transfer (Albert G. Dietrich), [October 1945]; NSBRO, Furlough Grant, (Albert G. Dietrich), 13 October 1945, both in AGD-NSBRO File. 218. For Mulberry’s health projects and work assignments in this and the preceding paragraph, see Ernest C. Shank, William H. Yoder, and Albert G. Dietrich, “(Preliminary) Report of the Committee on Continuation of Civilian Public Service in Polk County, Florida,” [1946], AGD Papers; Miller, “Reminiscences of the CPS Camp at Mulberry, Florida,” copy in AGD Papers; Van Dyck, Exercise of Conscience, 187–222; Gingerich, Service for Peace, 252–56; Crestviews, August 1943; Voth, interview. 219. For this paragraph, including all quotes, see Shank, Yoder, and Dietrich, “(Preliminary) Report of the Committee on Continuation of Civilian Public Service in Polk County, Florida.” See also AGD to FRD, 1 December 1945; Voth interview. It should be noted that, even though the report was coauthored, its conclusions were unanimous. 220. Box 96, January 1946 and February 1946. The MCC and Mennonite colleges arranged for CPSers to earn college credit for approved courses taught in camp by COs. See Hershberger, The Mennonite Church in the Second World War, 183. 221. Leroy Garber et al. [17 COs], “Petition for Clarification of Policies,” 2 April 1946, AGD Papers. 222. Box 96, December 1945. 223. Box 96, February 1946. 224. For the Bethune-Cookman trip, including all quotes, see AGD to FRD/CDD, 4 March 1946. See also Voth interview; Van Dyck, Exercise of Conscience, 214–16; and Gingerich, Service for Peace, 254. 225. Voth interview. 226. Albert Dietrich, “The White Problem,” Box 96, February 1946. Paul Comly French, NSBRO’s executive director, wrote to Albert praising his article. Paul Comly French to Albert Dietrich, 20 March 1946, AGD-NSBRO File. After Mulberry, Albert continued to advocate racial equality. For instance, he commended the Atlanta police

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chief for arresting members of “Columbians, Inc.,” an anti-black group; he criticized a Maine newspaper for not capitalizing “Negro”; and, in a case that involved the shooting death of the nephew of the president of the Dominican Republic, he condemned police brutality. See Albert G. Dietrich to Chief M. A. Hornsby, 7 November 1946; Albert G. Dietrich letter to the editor of the Bangor Daily Commercial, 7 November 1946; [Albert Dietrich] to Sheriff Henry Wells [1946?], all in AGD Papers. 227. Albert enclosed the July 1942 Fellowship article in AGD to FRD, 11 February 1943. 228. For race and Mulberry, see Voth, interview; Van Dyck, Exercise of Conscience, 213–14. Albert cited CORE in AGD to FRD / CDD, [January 1946]. For CORE, see George M. Houser, CORE: A Brief History (New York: Congress of Racial Equality, 1949), and August Meier and Elliott Rudwick, CORE: A Study in the Civil Rights Movement, 1942–1968 (New York: Oxford University Press, 1973). 229. AGD to FRD, 1 December 1945. 230. Albert Dietrich, “Journal,” 31 May 1946, AGD Papers. 231. Frank R. Dietrich to Elmer Ediger, 17 June 1946, AGD Papers. 232. The accident occurred when Albert and the four-man privy installation crew of which he was a part was returning to camp. The team was traveling in a flatbed truck without side rails. Two men traveled in the cab; the two in back sat on nail kegs. Albert fell from the truck when Stanley Voth, the driver, swerved to avoid an oncoming car, which was passing on a curve and had not returned to its own lane. Albert’s leg was set in a Bartow, Florida, hospital by a Dr. Sawyer, who used an experimental procedure of pins and rods. The leg was set poorly and healed improperly. Reportedly, the X rays showed a gap between the bones. Albert, Voth, and other COs suspected that the doctor, who presumably disliked COs, deliberately mis-set the leg. For the accident and medical treatment, see Albert Dietrich, “To Whom It May Concern,” [November 1945], AGD-NSBRO File; Voth, interview; Box 96, December 1945. For doctor and medical reports, and other documents related to the case, see materials in AGD-NSBRO File and in AGD Papers, including Albert’s “Journal,” 31 May–7 June 1946. 233. NSBRO, Individual Record of Campee (Albert G. Dietrich), 8 August 1946, AGD-NSBRO File. 234. William W. McDermet to Albert G. Dietrich, 23 November 1945 (two letters, same date); Albert G. Dietrich to Major General Lewis B. Hershey, 8 December 1945; Roman L. Gingerich to J. N. Weaver, 8 December 1945; Colonel Lewis F. Kosch to J. N. Weaver, 19 December 1945; NSBRO, Report of Discharge (Albert G. Dietrich), 8 August 1946, all in AGD-NSBRO File. For his AFSC application, see Albert G. Dietrich to AFSC Personnel Office, 31 March 1946, and other materials in AGD Papers. 235. Albert G. Dietrich to Geo[rge] W. Jarrett, 2 September 1946, AGD-NSBRO File. 236. Al [Dietrich] to Rick [Lowenberg], 19 August 1946, AGD Papers. 237. Al [Dietrich] to Rick [Lowenberg], 10 September 1946, AGD Papers. 238. FRD/CDD to SHB, 15 June 2002. 239. Ibid; German newspaper clipping [from Westdeutsche Allgemeine Zeitung?], 31 August 1977, FRD/CDD Papers. 240. FRD/CDD to SHB, 15 June 2002. 241. Tom Brokaw, The Greatest Generation (New York: Random House, 1998), especially xix–xx, xxx, 11–12. I have borrowed “citizen soldiers” from Stephen E. Ambrose, Citizen Soldiers: The U.S. Army from the Normandy Beaches to the Bulge to

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the Surrender of Germany, June 7, 1944–May 7, 1945 (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1997). 242. Al Dietrich to Stanley Voth, 13 September 1992, AGD Papers.

Chapter 1: 1939–42 1. The 8 November 1939 edition of the New Republic, an influential liberal journal first published on 7 November 1914, was a special issue commemorating the magazine’s twenty-fifth anniversary and exploring “The Promise of American Life.” In 1909, Herbert Croly published The Promise of American Life (New York: MacMillan), a seminal work that expressed the mature Progressive Era’s thinking about the role of government. Rejecting laissez-faire and limited government, he argued that a strong federal government should play an active role (Hamiltonian means) to counter private, concentrated economic power, reform social ills, and promote equality and democracy (Jeffersonian ends). 2. In 1940, the Republican Party nominated Wendell L. Wilkie as its presidential candidate. 3. Susie Goldman (previously Susan Soyak) went to the University of Pittsburgh and attended peace meetings there with the Dietrichs; McConnells Mill, Pennsylvania, forty miles north of Pittsburgh, encompasses Slippery Rock Creek Gorge, white water, waterfalls, forests, and trails. The mill was purchased by Thomas M. McConnell in 1875, closed in 1928, donated to the state in 1942, and dedicated as a state park in 1957. 4. Archie and Susan (Soyak) Goldman were students at the University of Pittsburgh with the Dietrichs. 5. Wilbur I. Newstetter was dean of the Graduate School of Social Work at the University of Pittsburgh. 6. Rudy Mamula was a Pittsburgh friend of Frank and Albert. 7. Patty and Bobby were the children of Mel and Grace (Dietrich) Van Sciver. 8. Edward Dobroski Americanized his Polish name, Dobrowolski. Ed’s brother, Thaddeus, whom the Dietrich twins called Ted, volunteered for the Polish Air Force which, after the German invasion of Poland, evacuated to France and then to England, where its pilots played a key role in the Battle of Britain (1940). Ted received the Polish Cross of Valor, a decoration awarded for combat bravery. The Dietrichs, who were childhood friends of the Dobroskis, used both spellings in their correspondence. Unless otherwise stated, all references to Ed are to Ed Dobroski. 9. Esther (Simon) Dunkleberger, a student at University of Pittsburgh with Frank and Albert, married Toby Dunkleberger. Frank and Albert were buying wedding presents for Susan and Esther. 10. Form 47 (“Special Form for Conscientious Objection”) was the Selective Service document for draftees seeking conscientious objection status. 11. From August 1941 to November 1943, while living in Beatrice, Nebraska, Albert lodged with the Penners, a pacifist Mennonite family, who provided room and board. 12. Published in 1942 by the U.S. Government Printing Office, the poster depicts Nazi soldiers in helmets holding sheet music and singing, “Today, Germany is Ours; Tomorrow, the Whole World.” Beneath them appears the phrase “OH, YEAH?”— a reference to American determination to defeat Nazi Germany. For this and more

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than three hundred other wartime posters issued by U.S. federal agencies, see the Northwestern University World War II Poster Collection at www.library.northwestern.edu/govpub/collections/wwii-posters. 13. For Dwight Dell, see chap. 1. 14. The reference is to Father Charles E. Coughlin (1891–1979) and his followers. Coughlin, a Michigan Catholic priest and critic of FDR, broadcast a radio program to an audience of 30–45 million. He founded the National Union for Social Justice, attacked bankers and New Dealers as too pro-business, and, after 1938, became an antiSemite who blamed the Depression on an international conspiracy of Jewish bankers. 15. Madrigals were secular songs, popular vocal music written in the vernacular for three or more usually unaccompanied voices. First appearing in Renaissance Italy, madrigals became popular in Elizabethan England. 16. Rudy Mamula, who had opposed the war (but who was not a pacifist), unexpectedly joined the Army, became a lieutenant, and then criticized Frank for his earlier antiwar attitude. Frank (and Albert) considered Mamula’s sharp and sudden reversal a betrayal of his convictions—or intellectual “suicide.” 17. This is probably a reference to Eduard C. Lindeman (1885–1953), a professor of social work and a champion of democracy, social justice, and adult education. 18. Manuel Conrad Elmer (1886–1988), a sociologist, founded the Department of Sociology at the University of Pittsburgh in 1926; he also chaired the department. In 1931, he established the School of Social Work (which remained a division of the Sociology Department until 1937, when it became a separate Graduate School of Social Work under Dean Wilbur I. Newstetter). 19. In Beatrice, Nebraska, Emmylu Goertz attended FOR meetings and Mennonite church services with Albert. 20. For the 20–30 Club, see introduction. 21. The Citizens’ Enrollment Committee of the U.S. Naval Reserves wrote Frank asking if he were interested in applying for a commission. 22. The merit exam functioned as a civil service exam. Persons who passed the exam (and met other minimum qualifications) were placed on the Merit System Register, which was a list of eligible candidates. 23. For the Merit System Register, see preceding note. 24. Florence M. Teagarden (1887–1975), a child psychologist, was one of Albert’s professors at the University of Pittsburgh. 25. Actually, the German occupation of Denmark (April 1940 to May 1945) was less brutal than the German occupation elsewhere. Significantly, the Danish resistance movement relied, in the main, on nonviolent methods, including noncooperation, boycotts, strikes, and sabotage. 26. For Friedrich Metz, see introduction. 27. William Penn (1644–1718) was a prominent English Quaker. He founded the colony of Pennsylvania (1681) to establish a Quaker refuge and promote the freedom of religion and conscience. Penn maintained peaceful relations with Native Americans by purchasing land from the Delaware Indians and by treating them fairly in all disputes. 28. In 1917, Father Edward Flanagan (1886–1948), an Irish Catholic priest, founded Father Flanagan’s Boys Town in Omaha, Nebraska, to provide a home for abused, neglected, and orphaned boys. 29. Responding to a recruitment letter from the U.S. Naval Reserves and preferring a Navy commission to the draft, Frank applied to the Navy and went to Los Angeles for

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an interview, during which he learned that the Navy did not need more child welfare workers. Under the slogan, “Choose While You Can,” the Navy mounted an aggressive recruiting program during World War II. 30. This trip never materialized. 31. Bobbye (also Bobby or Robbie) Mullins, an art teacher in the Gallup public schools, shared a Gallup apartment with Christine. Mr. Mullins, her father, who lived in Santa Fe, was executive secretary of the New Mexico Education Association; Holy Ghost Canyon is located in the Santa Fe National Forest. 32. Frank included this postcard in his typescript edition; I was unable to locate the original in the Dietrich Correspondence. 33. Child welfare worker was Frank’s title. 34. Milton Rosenblatt and Mildred Soyak (a Czechoslovakian immigrant) were Pittsburgh acquaintances of Frank. 35. Lester A. Trimble (d. 1986), a Pittsburgh friend of the Dietrichs, was a violinist and composer; after World War II, he was a music critic for the Herald Tribune and a faculty member at the Juilliard School and the University of Maryland. 36. Eugene Phillips, a Pittsburgh violinist, was a friend of the Dietrichs. 37. Volkwein’s was a noted Pittsburgh music shop where the twins bought records and music. 38. From c. 900–1200 AD, Chaco Canyon, located in northwest New Mexico, was the social, cultural, and religious center of the Anasazi, a prehistoric Indian people and the ancestors of the Pueblo Indians. By the twelfth century, Chaco culture had spread to seventy pueblos (villages), the largest of which was Pueblo Bonita (which had eight hundred rooms). 39. Canyon de Chelly, located in Arizona on the Navajo Reservation, was occupied by the Anasazi and later by the Navajo Indians. Navajos still live and farm in the canyon, which has spectacular vistas, steep vertical walls, cliff dwellings, and prehistoric ruins. 40. A hogan is a traditional Navajo home built with a log and stick framework and plastered with mud and wood. 41. Another copy of this document, dated 19 June 1943, is in the AGD-NSBRO File. 42. Copy in Dietrich Correspondence. 43. Allan A. Hunter, White Corpuscles in Europe (Chicago and New York: Willet, Clark & Company, 1939). 44. Anna Louise Strong (1885–1970) was a radical American journalist and author who wrote many books about the Soviet Union, including This Soviet World (New York: Henry Holt and Co., 1936) and The Soviets Expected It (New York: Dial, 1941). She also wrote about communist China and moved there permanently in 1958. 45. Soviet Russia Today (1932–51) was a periodical published in New York by the Friends of the Soviet Union. This indicated Albert’s curiosity about the Soviet Union and the communist experiment, not his political sympathies. 46. Elliot is a Pittsburgh neighborhood that borders West End and the Ohio River. 47. Short arm inspection is military slang for an inspection of the penis for venereal disease. 48. Chester Smudzinski was a friend of Albert’s. 49. Alma Mocher was a student at the School of Social Work at the University of Pittsburgh. 50. Marion Hathway was a professor of public welfare at the School of Applied Social Sciences at the University of Pittsburgh.

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51. Ludwig van Beethoven wrote Missa Solemnis (“solemn mass”) to celebrate the 1819 promotion of Archduke Rudolf, his patron and the brother of Austria’s emperor, to cardinal and then archbishop. Completed in 1823 and written in five movements, the composition is based on the traditional Catholic mass. 52. Edward Francel was a supervisor, Juvenile Probation and Parole, Nebraska Department of Assistance and Child Welfare. 53. Lois McVey was Frank’s child welfare supervisor; she worked at headquarters in Sante Fe, New Mexico. 54. Socrates (469–399 BC), an Athenian, was a Greek philosopher. 55. Lucius Annaeus Seneca (the Younger) (4 BC–65 AD), was a Roman playwright, orator, statesman, and philosopher. 56. Ruth was the daughter of Uncle Burr and Aunt Marie. Merle was Ruth’s husband. 57. Children’s Service Bureau. 58. The Brashear Association—which operated a collection of settlement houses— was established in 1917 on Pittsburgh’s South Side to honor John A. Brashear (1840– 1920). From humble origins as a millwright in a South Side steel mill, Brashear became a scientist and a leading producer of precision scientific instruments, notably telescopes. Settlement houses, located in working class neighborhoods and staffed by middle class reformers, sought to transform neighborhoods and help residents through assorted social programs and reforms. In 1936, Frank, too, worked at a Brashear settlement house. 59. David R. Deener (1920–76) was a close friend and neighbor of the Dietrichs through adolescence. During World War II, Deener was an administrative assistant at the War Department (1941–42) and an ensign, United States Naval Reserve (USNR) (1942–45). After the war, he became a political science professor, dean, and provost at Tulane University. As provost, he also served as the military coordinator for ROTC programs; Bruno Zachary was a Pittsburgh college friend of the Dietrichs. 60. Nesbit was a casual acquaintance of Frank. 61. Frank included this letter in his typescript edition; I was unable to locate the original in the Dietrich Correspondence. 62. Uncle Burr Dietrich was the brother of Frank and Albert’s father. Aunt Marie, the wife of Uncle Burr, was (Frank recalls) a pacifist who upheld Albert’s CO position. 63. This letter contained a FOR flyer, “India’s Cause” (New York: FOR, c. 1942?).

Chapter 2: 1943 1. This letter contained an order form for gift subscriptions to Soviet Russia Today. 2. Faith Hill and Mabel F. Rice, Ashkee of Sunshine Water: A Navaho Indian Boy (New York: Grosset and Dunlop, 1941), a thirty-six-page childrens’ book with pictures. 3. Frank Hague (1876–1956), the mayor of Jersey City, New Jersey, (1917–46) and the local Democratic political boss, was the virtual dictator of that city in the 1930s. Notwithstanding his support for the New Deal, he gained national notoriety for violating the civil liberties of his opponents, including the deportation (across the Hudson River to New York City) of Congress of Industrial Organizations organizers and Socialist Party leader Norman Thomas. 4. Eugene Talmadge (1884–1946), a conservative Southern Democrat and fourtime Georgia governor, vigorously opposed FDR, the New Deal, and racial equality.

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5. Herrenvolk (“master race”), one of Nazism’s central tenets, held that Germanic people (Aryans) were racially superior to other races and thus entitled to rule over them. 6. The Navajo are the largest Indian tribe / nation in the United States. The Navajo Treaty of 1868 ended the U.S.-Navajo conflict and established a Navajo reservation (or nation) in the southwest (in what are now the states of Utah, New Mexico, and Arizona). 7. The Aztec Indians, who built an empire of 15 million people in Mexico (after the Incas in Peru, the largest empire in the Americas), were conquered by Hernán Cortés and the Spanish in 1519. 8. The Pueblo Indians (pueblo is Spanish for village), located in the American Southwest, were conquered by the Spanish in the sixteenth century. The Acoma Pueblo, one of these communities, built their village atop a 357-foot sandstone mesa (in present New Mexico) to thwart raiders. In response to the missionizing program and food shortages that accompanied the conquest, the initially friendly Pueblo revolted. In 1598, when the Acoma killed Spanish soldiers taking grain from the pueblo storehouse, the Spanish retaliated and nearly destroyed Acoma. 9. Flitterwerk is German for tinsel. 10. This is a reference to the Immigration (or National Origins) Act of 1924. The law, which abrogated the 1907 Gentleman’s Agreement with Japan, barred Japanese (and virtually all Asian) immigration to the United States. 11. This is a reference to Henrik Willem van Loon (1882–1944), a Dutch-American born in Rotterdam and a popular historian and illustrator. His many self-illustrated books include The Story of Mankind (New York: Boni and Liveright, 1921.) 12. “Famous Architect C.O. Contradicts Judge,” Fellowship, February 1943, 37. 13. Frank Lloyd Wright (1867–1959). A prominent twentieth-century architect, Wright designed buildings that blended into the environment and emphasized native materials. 14. Oliver La Farge (1901–63), a novelist and anthropologist with an interest in Native Americans, won the Pulitzer Prize for Laughing Boy (New York: Houghton Mifflin, 1929). The novel, which told the story of a young Navajo and his wife, depicted Navajo tribal culture and society and the harmful influences of white civilization. 15. The United Nations refers to the Allied forces. On 1 January 1942, twenty-six countries signed the Declaration of the United Nations, which called for a complete victory and endorsed the Atlantic Charter, a statement of war aims and postwar principles issued by FDR and Winston Churchill after their August 1941 meetings off Newfoundland. 16. In 1941, in response to a request by FDR, six civilian agencies coordinated their civilian war efforts and formed the United Service Organizations (USO). Chartered by Congress, the USO—the GI’s “home away from home” during World War II—is a private, civilian, nonprofit organization devoted to promoting the morale of U.S. military personnel worldwide through clubs, entertainment, and recreation. 17. V (Victory)-mail, which the government developed to save scarce cargo space on wartime transport, involved microfilming letters. Correspondents wrote on specially designed 8 1/2  11 inch letter-sheets that served as letter and envelope. These letters were photographed; the rolls of film were shipped overseas, blown up at destination facilities, reproduced as 4  5 1/2 inch facsimiles (photographs), and delivered to addressees. V-mail saved 98 percent of the cargo space needed for regular letters. One

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bag of V-mail (45 pounds) could replace thirty-seven mail bags (2,575 pounds). With V-mail, 1,600 letters could be placed on a roll of film not much larger than a pack of cigarettes. 18. This was likely a reference to “Why We Fight”—a seven-part propaganda series produced for the War Department by Hollywood director Frank Capra. Soldiers going overseas were required to view the series, which historians have judged more critically than did Frank. 19. At a post–World War I peace conference, delegates from thirty-two nations adopted the Versailles Treaty (1919); at the urging of President Wilson, the treaty included a League of Nations, an international organization designed to thwart future war and aggression through arbitration, mediation, and collective security. Article 10, which provided for collective security, implied but did not require armed force. The U.S. Senate rejected the treaty on grounds that the League would limit U.S. sovereignty and that collective security would require U.S. involvement in future conflicts. ProLeague advocates have argued, then and since, that America’s refusal to join the League weakened collective security and made it more difficult to stop aggression during the interwar period, which emboldened fascist Italy, militarist Japan, and Nazi Germany, and made World War II more likely. 20. In October 1935, Italy invaded and annexed Ethiopia (Abyssinia). Benito Mussolini, who wanted to revive Italian imperial grandeur, sought an African empire and revenge for the 1896 Abyssinian defeat of Italian troops at Adowa. The Italians resorted to torture and executions and used poison gas and aerial bombardment against civilians. 21. In March 1939, Nazi Germany invaded Czechoslovakia. This marked the end of appeasement, since Britain and France pledged to assist Poland if attacked by Germany. In September 1938, at the Munich Conference, Britain, France, Germany, and Italy (Czechoslovakia and Russia were excluded), had transferred the Czech Sudetenland—with its ethnic German population—to Germany in order to avoid war; they also agreed never to wage war against one another. At Munich, Hitler (who had been threatening war to obtain internal autonomy for German-speaking regions) pledged to respect the remainder of Czechoslovakia. Before the conference, seeking to avert war, British prime minister Neville Chamberlain, supported by French premier Edouard Daladier, made three trips to Germany, where he negotiated the Munich settlement with Adolf Hitler. 22. On 1 September 1939, Germany invaded Poland. Two days later, Britain and France declared war on Germany—and World War II began. 23. Frank is referring to a documentary film on the German invasion of Poland. 24. Beethoven originally dedicated the Third (Eroica) Symphony (1804) to Napoleon Bonaparte, who the composer thought represented the ideals of the French Revolution. However, when Napoleon crowned himself emperor of France, Beethoven removed the general’s name from the title page. “The Funeral March” is the second of the symphony’s four movements. 25. In his Ninth Symphony (1824), Beethoven set to music “Ode to Joy” (1785), a hymn by German poet Friedrich von Schiller (1759–1805). 26. For NSBRO, see introduction. 27. Frank included this letter in his typescript edition; a copy of the original is located in AGD-NSBRO File. 28. In his annual address before Congress on 6 January 1941, FDR delivered his “four freedoms” speech. He identified “four essential human freedoms—the freedom

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of speech and worship and the freedom from want and fear (international aggression)” and called for the extension of these freedoms throughout the world. 29. During World War II, about 16,000 persons were prosecuted for Selective Service violations, including 5,516 men who claimed to be conscientious objectors. Offenses included a failure to register for the draft, to return questionnaires, to report for medical exams, to report for induction, to report to CPS camp, and to comply with CPS assignments; in addition, counseling and aiding evasion was an offense. Following trial, 6,000 men were jailed and, as convicted felons, these prison COs lost important civil rights and civil liberties, including the right to vote. 30. For Arnold T. Olena, see introduction, n. 182. 31. For CPS, see introduction. 32. Beginning in 1940 (and following practice trials the year before), smoke jumpers, operating mainly in the West, parachuted from airplanes to fight forest and grassland fires. During World War II, some 240 CPS COs—assigned to base camps in Idaho, Montana, and Oregon—were smoke jumpers; even more volunteered for this dangerous job. In addition, other COs worked in more traditional fire-fighting brigades that battled forest fires with water pumpers and hand tools. 33. This is probably the Methodist Commission on World Peace. 34. For religion and the Selective Service Act of 1940, see introduction. 35. The historic peace churches were the Quakers, Mennonites, and Brethren. 36. The Bacons were a married couple who attended university with the twins. 37. Bruno and Maybelle (“Pete”) Zachary. 38. Susan (Soyak) Goldman. 39. With funds provided by the Lanham Act of 1940, the U.S. Federal Housing Administration led a program to build public housing for workers in defense and defense industries. Reflecting wartime shortages of labor, money, and materials, these modest, wood-frame, temporary houses nonetheless met short-term housing needs. In Tomah, Frank and Christine apparently lived in one of these public housing units. 40. Operated by the Brethren, Magnolia CPS camp #7 worked with the Soil Conservation Service. 41. Barry Dietrich was the son of Louis and Gertrude Dietrich. 42. This was probably the Fellowship of Reconciliation membership fee.

Chapter 3: 1944 1. In CPS, COs were not paid for their work, but they did receive a small subsistence allowance. See introduction. 2. For CPS camp schedules, regulations, and expectations, see appendix D. 3. John Charles Thomas (1891–1960) was a renowned American concert and radio singer who performed with the Metropolitan Opera House and elsewhere. 4. The Vienna Boys’ Choir, founded in 1598 by Austrian Emperor Maximilian I to perform private masses and concerts at the court, is among the world’s oldest and most prestigious boys’ choirs. Since 1926, they have performed concerts around the world. 5. For the Deerfield Dam, see introduction. 6. In December 1942, the U.S. Army established the Army Specialized Training Program (ASTP), which sent more than 150,000 soldiers to colleges and universities to

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study medicine, languages, engineering, psychology, and other subjects useful to the Army. Beginning in 1943, manpower shortages on the combat fronts led the Army to transfer ASTP men into combat units. In February 1944, ASTP was terminated. 7. Aunt Nellie was the sister of Frank and Albert’s father; Uncle Bill was Aunt Nellie’s husband. 8. Uncle Frank Edwards was the brother of the twins’ mother, Louise E. Dietrich. 9. In Puerto Rico, CPS operated camp #43. 10. For pacifist foreign relief projects, see introduction. 11. Both twins objected to, in Frank’s words, the “rigid organization” of the Catholic Church. 12. Pierre van Paassen, Days of Our Years (New York: Hillman-Curl Inc., 1939). Van Paassen (1895–1968), a Dutch-Canadian journalist, was a foreign correspondent. Days of Our Years, a best-seller that combined memoir and journalism, examined the interwar era and the events leading to World War II. 13. During Frank’s posting at the Tomah Air Force Radio School, Christine worked as a secretary to the chaplains, one of whom was Stipek. Both Christine and Frank admired Stipek and enjoyed his friendship. Frank recalls that Stipek was a Congregational minister from Thomaston, Connecticut. 14. Detached service allowed COs to perform work of national importance outside CPS camps—in hospitals, firefighting, community service, and, before Congress prohibited it, international relief projects. 15. For the MCC Foreign Relief Training Unit, see introduction. 16. A. James Rinner, a Hill City CO, was a pianist. He presented a piano recital to the camp as part of a concert series organized by Albert and the camp’s music committee. 17. The Rushmore Reflector was the Hill City CPS camp newspaper. The Gist: A Peace Digest, a digest of books, speeches, and articles, was sponsored by the FOR and the National Council for Prevention of War. 18. In his later typescript version, Frank added: “that you [Albert] had ordered for a newborn.” 19. V-mail; see chap. 2, n. 17. 20. LED’s is an abbreviation for the Louis E. Dietrichs (Louis and Gertrude). 21. During World War II, three thousand CPS COs volunteered to work in fortyone mental hospitals (including Cherokee State Hospital) and seventeen schools for the mentally deficient. COs, and in some cases their wives and girlfriends—known as CO Girls, or COGs—ameliorated the wartime labor shortage that led to understaffing and worsening conditions for the six hundred thousand people confined to these institutions. COs humanized mental hospitals by applying nonviolent principles and treating inmates with respect.

Chapter 4: 1945 1. Uncle Warren Dietrich was one of Frank A. Dietrich’s brothers. 2. These reminiscences, often repeated, were told by their father and his brothers (Warren, Albert, and Burr); Aunt Carrie was Uncle Warren’s wife. 3. United Nations here refers to the Allies. 4. For the Atlantic Charter, see chap. 2, n. 15.

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5. Dorothy Jane Dickey (Dot) was Christine’s younger sister. 6. Christine and Frank addressed Christine’s parents as “Mother” and “Father”; they called Frank’s father, “Dad.” 7. Uncle Charles Dickey, a retired railroad station agent, was Ralph A. Dickey’s uncle. 8. Tyler was a casual acquaintance of Frank. 9. The (Signal Corps Radio) SCR-299 was a radio transmitter. 10. Drew Pearson (1897–1969) was a journalist and liberal political columnist. From 1932 to 1969, Pearson authored or coauthored “Washington Merry-Go-Round,” a syndicated newspaper column. From 1939 to 1945, Pearson also had a weekly program on ABC radio. The Dietrichs and Christine listened to Pearson regularly. 11. The Monona Apartments in Madison, Wisconsin, where Frank, Christine, and Sally Lou lived (from January to March 1945) before he went to the Philippines, had a coin laundry with Bendix washing machines. 12. This is a reference to the five-year neutrality pact signed by the Soviet Union and Japan in April 1941. On 5 April 1945, the Soviet Union unilaterally abrogated the agreement, eight months before its scheduled expiration. 13. Mail was sent to an APO (U.S. Army Post Office) military address. 14. A casual squadron is a unit of GIs in transit to another unit. GIs assigned to a casual squadron remain on base to await paperwork, complete medical exams, or await transportation to their new unit. 15. Henry A. Wallace (1888–1965), a prominent New Deal liberal, served as FDR’s secretary of agriculture (1933–40) and vice president (1940–44). In 1944, Democratic opponents, who feared his liberalism, organized to dump Wallace from the ticket; he was replaced by Harry Truman. In 1948, Wallace, a proponent of U.S.-Soviet cooperation and a critic of Truman’s cold war policies, ran for president on the Progressive Party ticket. 16. Thomas Pendergast (1872–1945), the corrupt leader of the Pendergast political machine, controlled Kansas City, Missouri, and surrounding Jackson County. He nurtured the early political career of Harry Truman, who worked in the Pendergast machine, held elective Jackson County offices, and, as the Pendergast’s candidate, won election to the U.S. Senate in 1934. During his 1940 Senate reelection campaign, Truman distanced himself from Pendergast, who was sent to prison for income tax evasion in 1939. 17. “Without Love” (MGM, 1945), a comedic romance, starred Spencer Tracy and Katharine Hepburn, the notable American actress and patrician beauty. Set in World War II Washington, D.C., Pat Jamieson (Tracy), a freelance scientist working on a high altitude oxygen mask for pilots, meets widow Jamie Rowan (Hepburn), who becomes his assistant and allows him to erect a laboratory in her large home. Without prospects for love and to maintain appearances, they agree on a platonic marriage of convenience. 18. Kitchen Police (KP) were GIs assigned to work in kitchens and mess halls. 19. Jim Abbott was a casual acquaintance of Frank. 20. Post exchanges (PX) are stores (commissaries) on military bases (and, in this case, aboard ship) that sell goods at low prices to military personnel, their families, and authorized civilians. 21. “Outward Bound” (Warner Brothers, 1930) was based on an internationally acclaimed play by English playwright Sutton Vane that premiered in London in 1923. A group of passengers, all whom are dead except for a young couple (who had

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attempted suicide), find themselves on a crewless ocean liner, adrift between heaven and hell, bound for an unknown destination and their final judgment. 22. The Guadalcanal Campaign (7 August 1942–21 February 1943), which involved six major naval battles in the Solomon Islands, including the jungle island of Guadalcanal, blocked Japan’s expansion into the South Pacific and her advance on Australia. On Guadalcanal, the Americans seized—then defended—an airfield that the Japanese were building to support their planned expansion. During the campaign, 7,500 Americans and 30,000 Japanese were killed. The United States lost 615 planes and 25 warships; the Japanese lost 680 planes and 24 warships. 23. Frank recalls that prostitution was common in Manila. But only once did he observe prostitutes brought on base, in that case into a nearby dorm tent during a party. 24. In the original letter, the censor removed “ship”; Frank later restored it in his typescript version. 25. Frank enjoyed common interests and conversation with Chuck Glasier, an intellectual. 26. The United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration (1943–47) was created in November 1943 when forty-four nations signed the UNRRA agreement at a White House meeting. With a budget of $4 billion (of which the United States provided $2.7 billion), the UNRRA distributed food, clothing, shelter, fuel, medicine, and other necessities to displaced persons and other war victims in Europe and China. It also built hospitals, restored transportation, and prevented epidemics. 27. When Frank applied to the UNRRA, he thought that husbands and wives might be able to go together. Had this opportunity materialized, Christine (and Sally Lou) would have readily accompanied him. 28. Altheimer German POW branch camp. 29. Willis Clary, a World War I veteran, was a friend of the Dickeys. 30. Civilian critics charged that the United States was “coddling” German and Italian POWs. This charge led to a congressional investigation in 1945. 31. Winston Churchill (1874–1965), the Conservative Party leader and British prime minister (1940–45, 1951–55), provided inspired leadership to Britain and the Allies during World War II. In July 1945, however, the Labour Party won the general election and Clement Attlee (1883–1967) replaced Churchill as prime minister (1945–1951). Ernest Bevin (1881–1951), a trade union leader, became foreign minister. The Labour government, in a historic reform program, nationalized the railways, coal, gas, and steel, and introduced socialized medicine and the National Health Service. 32. “A Royal Scandal” (20th Century Fox, 1945) was a romantic comedy. After becoming romantically involved with Catherine the Great (Tallulah Bankhead), a young cavalry officer (William Eythe) is rapidly promoted through the ranks to general. 33. Probably a reference to the Negritos, the shortest and darkest of the Filipino peoples. Despite their name—“little Negro” in Spanish—Negritos are black Asians, not Africans. 34. Gene Fowler, Good Night, Sweet Prince: The Life and Times of John Barrymore (New York: Viking Press, 1944). 35. Vilhjalmur Stefansson (1879–1962) was a Canadian anthropologist, Arctic explorer, and Eskimo expert. My Life with the Eskimo (New York: MacMillan, 1913) recounts his experience of living in an Eskimo village. 36. Bobby Schwendiman, the infant son of Fred Schwendiman, the Methodist minister in Altheimer, Arkansas, was Sally Lou’s age.

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37. Philip G. Wylie (1902–1971), an iconoclastic American novelist, essayist, and short story writer, was best known for Generation of Vipers (New York: Rinehart, 1942). With wit and vitriol, he castigated religion, sexual mores, ignorance, politicians, businessmen, and even mothers as part of his attack on American civilization for its hypocrisy, complacency, and drift. 38. Al Tozer trained with Frank in Tomah, Wisconsin. 39. Lucia Gardner was the supervisor of the Department of Child Welfare of New Mexico. 40. American Association of Social Workers. 41. In The Decline of the West (1918–22), German philosopher Oswald Spengler (1880–1936) argued that civilizations follow a cyclical pattern and that Western culture had entered a period of decline. 42. H. H. Newman, ed., The Nature of the World and Man (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1926). 43. In a letter to Frank dated 22 June 1945, Christine related a dinner she had with Captain Schwartz, a guard at the German POW base in Altheimer. Christine wrote: “One interesting fact he brought out was their totalitarianism (?) in little things. For example he said occasionally one man (p.o.w.) might be overpaid accidentally. The whole group of p.o.w.’s in such cases got together and found out where the trouble was and the money was returned—in order to prove the honesty of the group. He says he is very skeptical of them & believes in non-fraternizing, for he thinks he sees in them a desire to return to their country to re-arm the Reich!” 44. Rather than POW, the Army used P.W. for prisoner of war. 45. Condemning the Democratic Party platform in an October 1928 campaign speech, Herbert Hoover (1874–1964), the Republican candidate for president, extolled American “rugged individualism” (political decentralization, local responsibility, private enterprise, and individual initiative) and condemned European “paternalism and state socialism” (political centralization, collectivism, bureaucracy, and despotism). Consistent with his conservative philosophy, Hoover, in this speech and elsewhere, rejected attempts by the federal government to solve social and economic problems. 46. The Chicago Tribune, under owner-editor Colonel Robert McCormick, was an influential right-wing newspaper. It championed isolationism and condemned the New Deal, labor unions, communism, the Soviet Union, and all socialist expressions. 47. This is probably a reference to an article published by a Japanese diplomat in a Tokyo newspaper during the Battle of Okinawa (and reported in the New York Times on 17 June 1945). The diplomat argued that the Allied policy of unconditional surrender prevented a compromise peace and urged resistance for “five, ten, or even twenty years on our soil” against the expected Allied invasion. The reference to a “committee” is unclear though; since January 1945, the Japanese citizenry had been organized into local civil defense units to resist such an invasion. 48. The Battle of Okinawa (1 April–21 June 1945)—a critical battle for the 480 squaremile fortified island that defended mainland Japan—was the largest sea-land-air battle in history, the last major battle of World War II, and the bloodiest battle in the Pacific War. The United States suffered 72,000 casualties, including 12,000 killed, 36,000 wounded, and 26,000 non-battle (mainly combat stress-induced psychiatric) casualties. On the other side, 107,000 Japanese were killed; another 23,000 were sealed in caves or buried by the Japanese; and from 42,000 to 100,000 Okinawan civilians were killed. The United States lost 34 ships and 763 aircraft; the Japanese lost 16 ships and

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7,830 aircraft. During the battle, American forces learned that FDR had died (on 12 April) and that Nazi Germany had surrendered (on 8 May). With the American victory, military engineers and construction battalions converted Okinawa into a major U.S. base for the planned invasion of the Japanese home islands. 49. Noni Meyer, an Altheimer resident, was a good friend of Christine. 50. Martin Niemöller (1892–1984) was a Lutheran pastor and outspoken opponent of Nazism, though he had originally supported Hitler. From 1933 to 1937, when he was arrested for treason, Niemöller openly opposed the Nazis. He was held at Dachau and Sachsenhausen concentration camps until the end of the war, when he narrowly escaped execution. After the war, Niemöller, a U-boat captain during World War I, became a pacifist. To many, Niemöller is best known for the following words: “In Germany they came first for the Communists and I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t a Communist. Then they came for the Jews and I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t a Jew. Then they came for the trade unionists and I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t a trade unionist. Then they came for the Catholics and I didn’t speak up because I was a Protestant. Then they came for me—and by that time no one was left to speak up.” 51. On 8 July 1945, Pfc. Clarence Bertucci, a guard at Fort Douglas, near Camp Salina, Utah, reportedly went berserk and machine-gunned the POW tents, killing eight German POWs and wounding nineteen—all in their sleep. 52. During World War II, “in principle,” Army soldiers were awarded one overseas bar (hash mark) for each six-month period of active service outside the continental United States. But commanders, who had discretion in awarding the bar, could issue a hash mark to GIs with less than six months service overseas. This apparently happened in Frank’s case. Along with the hash mark, enlisted men, including Frank, received an increase of 5 percent of base pay for every three years of service. 53. On 9 May 1945, one day after V-E Day, Truman signed Public Law 54, which extended the draft for one year. On 5 July 1945, after two weeks of hearings, the House Select Committee on Post-War Military Policy recommended that Congress adopt universal military training (UMT), though not military service, in the postwar period. In addition, from 1945 to 1948, President Truman also supported UMT to buttress U.S. military power and replace the 1940 draft law which, after two one-year extensions, expired in March 1947. In a March 1948 address before a joint session of Congress, Truman called for peacetime selective service and UMT, which would have required all males, at age eighteen, to complete one year of military training. Congress enacted the Selective Service Act of 1948, but opposition by key congressmen, educators, religious groups, and pacifists blocked the more intrusive UMT. 54. A Song to Remember (Columbia, 1945), a film biography of Polish composer and pianist Frederic Chopin (1810–49), starred Cornel Wilde (Chopin) and Merle Oberon (George Sand). 55. Thomas R. Smith, ed., Poetica Erotica: A Collection of Rare and Curious Amatory Verse (New York: Crown Publishers, 1921). 56. “Son of Lassie” (MGM, 1945), featuring Lassie’s son, Laddie, was the sequel to “Lassie Comes Home” (1943). A Royal Air Force pilot (Peter Lawford) and Laddie, who stowed aboard, are shot down during a mission over Nazi-occupied Norway and separated. The Nazis use Laddie in an attempt to find Lawford, who escapes to England (where pilot and dog are reunited) with the help of the Norwegian resistance. 57. Gone with the Wind (MGM, 1939), which starred Vivien Leigh (Scarlett O’Hara) and Clark Gable (Rhett Butler), won ten Academy Awards. Based on a 1936

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novel by Margaret Mitchell, the popular film offered a flawed, romantic, and proConfederacy depiction of the Civil War and Reconstruction. 58. Edvard Grieg (1843–1907), a Norwegian romantic composer, incorporated folk music and promoted Norwegian nationalism through his emotive music. 59. Hermann Göring (1893–1946) was a highly decorated World War I fighter pilot, a prominent and founding member of the Nazi party, a participant in the 1923 Beer Hall Putsch, and a key architect of Nazi Germany. In 1935, Hitler named Göring to head the Luftwaffe (German Air Force) and, in 1941, to be his successor. He engineered much anti-Jewish legislation. Sentenced to death at Nuremberg, hours before his scheduled execution he committed suicide with a smuggled cyanide capsule. 60. Robert Ley (1890–1945) headed the German Labor Front, the Nazi regime’s most important mass organization, though it lacked the functions of an independent labor union. At Nuremberg, he committed suicide before the trial began. 61. Julius Streicher (1885–1946) was an early Nazi and participant in the 1923 Beer Hall Putsch. From 1922 to 1945, Streicher, a good speaker, published Der Sturmer, a weekly Nazi tabloid that appealed to the masses and aroused hatred against the Jews. He was sentenced to death at Nuremberg and executed. 62. Since the late eighteenth century, Weimar, Germany, has been the cultural and intellectual center of Germany and an important European cultural site. Politically, the Weimar Republic (1918–33)—with Weimar as its capital—sought to create Germany’s first liberal, democratic regime. The Nazi dictatorship replaced the Weimar Republic. 63. Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749–1832), a poet, novelist, playwright, and scientist best known for his dramatic poem Faust, is an Olympian cultural figure in Western civilization; Friedrich von Schiller (1759–1805) was a leading dramatist, poet, and playwright; and Arthur Schopenhauer (1788–1860) was a philosopher who emphasized the role of will. All were German, all contributed to romanticism, and all lived in Weimar. 64. Ralph A. Dickey had been hospitalized for hernia surgery; he made a full recovery. 65. Christine was a staunch Democrat and an admirer of Eleanor Roosevelt. 66. In May 1940, a German advance trapped a British and French force in northeast France at Dunkirk, a French port on the North Sea. From 27 May to 4 June, an armada of small civilian boats helped the British navy evacuate more than 200,000 British and 130,000 French troops from Dunkirk, as British and German fighter pilots fought overhead. Churchill, who had just taken office on 10 May, called the evacuation a “miracle”; Dunkirk boosted British morale at a time when the country faced a German invasion. 67. James Lowell Cady, an artist friend of Christine’s who had recently returned from Okinawa, was a staff sergeant with the 693 Ordinance Ammunition Co. Neither Frank nor Christine recall his “reactions,” nor has Christine’s original letter survived. 68. Jim Guy, who married a close friend of Christine’s, was a bombardier in the air raids on Berlin. After the war, he contracted polio and died. 69. During the Potsdam Conference (16 July–2 August 1945), the United States, Britain, and China—the main powers then fighting Japan—issued the Potsdam Declaration (26 July). The declaration offered Japan an ultimatum: surrender unconditionally or face “prompt and utter destruction.” Though the Big Three (the United States, Britain, and the Soviet Union) dominated the conference, the Soviets, who had

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not yet entered the war against Japan, did not sign the 26 July Declaration. On 28 July, Prime Minister Suzuki announced Japan’s rejection of the declaration. 70. Thomas Mann (1875–1955), a German novelist who won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1929, went into exile when Hitler came to power and remained a public opponent of Nazism. In 1938, he moved to the United States; in 1952, alarmed over McCarthyism and political repression, he returned to Europe. His novels include Buddenbrooks (1901), Death in Venice (1912), The Magic Mountain (1924), and Joseph and His Brothers, a trilogy (1933–42). 71. During World War II, the U.S. government adopted the Bracero Program (1942–64), which recruited Mexican workers (braceros) to alleviate an acute labor shortage. Under the program, the Farm Security Administration signed contracts with Mexican braceros, then, under FSA supervision, U.S. employers hired these workers. Codified in a U.S.-Mexican agreement, the program limited braceros to agricultural labor, though some were permitted to work on railroads. The agreement guaranteed braceros minimum wages, adequate living and working conditions, round-trip travel expenses between Mexico and the United States, and the right to quit the program and return to Mexico at any time. During the war, 200,000–250,000 Mexican men worked in the United States. Although the program was designed as a temporary wartime measure, after the war agricultural interests won various extensions, and the program continued until 1964 (enrolling 4.5 million Mexican workers). 72. Mel Van Sciver was Grace E. Dietrich’s first husband. Before joining the merchant marines, he practiced law in Philadelphia. The couple divorced about 1941. Mel asked Grace to remarry him, but she declined. 73. Japan, which considered itself a great nation, empire, and race with a mission to overthrow Western imperialism, proclaimed a Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere. A continuation of Japan’s expansionist policies designed to control the region’s resources, the Co-Prosperity Sphere also appealed to nationalism with its aim for Asian independence and self-sufficiency within the Japanese Empire. 74. Yank: The Army Weekly (1942–45) had a global circulation of 2.6 million and a readership of 10 million. In accord with its motto, “written by the men . . . for the men in the service,” Yank was staffed by enlisted soldiers. Its reporting, which included the war front and home front, was marked by realism and plain writing. 75. In 1942, the Japanese—who in 1910 had annexed Korea—began conscripting Koreans into the Japanese Army. They also used Koreans, who had earned a reputation for brutality while serving in the Japanese police forces that ruled occupied Korea and Manchukuo, as prison guards in Allied POW camps. (In 1931, Japan occupied Manchuria, China, and renamed it Manchukuo). 76. “That’s the Spirit” (Universal, 1945) was a musical and fantasy comedy. A vaudeville performer (Jack Oakie), married to the daughter (June Vincent) of a stodgy banker, dies on the day that his child is born. Twenty years later, he returns to earth as a spirit to save his grown daughter (Peggy Ryan) from the influence of her greedy grandfather. 77. Willie Withers, an African American, worked for Frank A. Dickey for many years. Judging from several letters in the Dietrich Correspondence, the Dickeys—who called blacks “nigra,” “colored people,” and “darkies”—were kind, but paternalistic, toward blacks. 78. The Soviet Union declared war on Japan on 8 August 1945. At the Yalta Conference (4–11 February 1945), a meeting of the United States, United Kingdom, and

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Soviet Union, the Soviets had agreed to enter the war against Japan within three months after the defeat of Germany, which occurred on 8 May 1945. 79. In a letter to Frank dated 26 July 1945, Christine enclosed a cartoon of a GI attaching curlers to a picture of his wife that hung over his bed. The caption read: “Private Buck—Buck puts curlers on his wife’s picture every night. He says she looks more natural that way.” 80. Jim Brown, who worked with Frank, was an electrician from Detroit. 81. On 10 August, in the wake of the atomic bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, the Japanese accepted the (26 July) Potsdam Declaration and surrendered, subject to the condition that the emperor (then Hirohito) be retained. Despite its policy of unconditional surrender, on 11 August the United States accepted the condition, with a stipulation that the emperor’s authority to rule Japan was subject to the Supreme Commander of the Allied Powers (General Douglas MacArthur). On 14 August, Japan accepted the stipulation, ending World War II. Ironically, U.S. insistence on unconditional surrender had bolstered Japanese resolve and lengthened the war, since the Japanese, in part, rejected unconditional surrender because of fears that the United States would abolish the emperor which, in the end, the United States did not do. 82. Written by American novelist, social critic, and civil rights activist Lillian E. Smith (1897–1966), Strange Fruit (New York: Reynal & Hitchcock, 1944) created a sensation. It tells the tragic story of an illicit love affair between an educated young black woman and a white man in a small Georgian town in the 1920s. The novel, which explored racial conflict and contained sexual undercurrents, shocked some. It was briefly banned by Boston and the U.S. Post Office. Smith, a member of CORE’s advisory board and among the earliest prominent southern whites to denounce segregation, advocated nonviolence in the civil rights movement. 83. The Valley of Decision (MGM, 1945), a drama set in 1870s Pittsburgh, depicted a romance complicated by class conflict. The scion (Gregory Peck) of a steel baron falls in love with the family’s Irish housemaid (Greer Garson), whose father is crippled in a mill accident that leads to a bitter labor strike. Nominated for two Academy Awards, the film was based on a 1942 novel by Marcia Davenport. 84. See chap. 4, n. 69 and 81. 85. The Walts were close family friends of the Dickeys. 86. Martha Jane was married to Christine’s brother, Milton (Dick) G. Dickey. 87. Alice Ruth Williams, a teacher, taught with Christine in Gallup. 88. The quote is the last line from “Dover Beach” (1867), a poem by British poet and critic Matthew Arnold (1822–88). 89. For the role of the army’s Special Services and Information and Education Services, see Introduction. 90. Peter (Pyotr, Piotr) Ilyich Tchaikovsky (1840–93) wrote the Fifth Symphony in 1888. Concerned with the theme of fate (freedom versus predestination), in this work the triumphal march represented the victory of the former over the latter. 91. For Grace, see AGD to FRD, 2 August 1945. 92. Mel Van Sciver was not paying child support. 93. Herbert Zipper (1904–97), a Jewish musician and conductor born and educated in Vienna, led orchestras in Germany until 1933, when Hitler’s accession to power led him to return to Austria. In 1938, when Germany invaded Austria, the Nazis arrested Zipper and sent him to Dachau, where he organized secret concerts to boost the morale of other prisoners in the concentration camp. Later transferred to Buchen-

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wald, he was released after his family in Paris bribed an official at the Guatemalan embassy there and obtained a visa. In 1939, he joined his fiancée—also a refugee—in the Philippines and became the music director of the Manila Symphony Orchestra. Remaining in the Philippines during the war, after Manila’s liberation he reassembled the Manila Symphony for concerts in a church. 94. For the appropriateness of Tchaikovsky, see chap. 4, n. 90. 95. The sociology professor was Manuel Conrad Elmer. 96. Frank never did revisit the Philippines. 97. On 6 August 1945, Christine wrote Frank: “Have you heard of the Atomic bomb—our answer to the Japanese rejection of recent ultimatum? . . . Perhaps by the time this letter reaches you the news will be old—but then again it may not.” 98. “Star Dust” (1927) by Hoagy Carmichael; “Begin the Beguine” (1935) by Cole Porter; and “Cabin in the Sky,” the title song in a New York musical (1940) and movie (MGM, 1943). 99. San Sebastian Cathedral, designed in 1883 and made of steel, was prefabricated in Belgium and transported to the Philippines by ship. 100. German troops invaded Poland on 1 September (not 2 September) 1939. 101. Christine’s letter, to which Frank refers, is not in the Dietrich Correspondence. 102. FRD to CDD, 18 June 1945. 103. Street and Smith was a hugely successful New York publisher of popular literature, notably pulp fiction periodicals (adventure, detective and mystery, science fiction, sports, westerns, young adult fiction) and dime novels (including the Horatio Alger series of rags-to-riches tales). Beginning in 1859, Street and Smith published the New York Weekly, a pioneering “storypaper”—an inexpensive weekly newspaper that featured serialized (often romance) stories, sports, fashion, humor, and current events. Street and Smith publications included striking illustrations. 104. After the Japanese had agreed to surrender, General Douglas MacArthur, the Supreme Commander for the Allied Powers who would head the U.S. occupation of Japan, directed that a Japanese delegation visit him in Manila to work out surrender and occupation details. Security arrangements were tight, both to prevent another sneak attack and to protect the delegates from Japanese who rejected surrender and had threatened to kill them. In accord with MacArthur’s orders, on 19 August the delegation flew from Japan to Ie Shima island, near Okinawa, in two clearly marked Japanese planes escorted by American fighter planes (Lockheed P-38 Lightnings). The Japanese planes were painted white with large green crosses on the sides of their fuselages and on the top and bottom of each wing. At Ie Shima, the sixteen Japanese delegates boarded U.S. planes, which transported them to Manila. 105. The first atomic bomb was detonated, in the Trinity test, at Alamagordo, New Mexico, on 16 July 1945. 106. Frank recalls that Reverend Harrison was appalled by the atomic bomb, while the Army chaplains at Fort McKinley generally ignored world problems. 107. Harry Emerson Fosdick (1878–1969), a Baptist, pacifist, and leader of American liberal Protestantism, led Riverside Church in New York from 1931 to 1946. 108. Solomon B. Freehof (1892–1990), a distinguished scholar and theologian, was a Reform Jew and longtime rabbi of Rodef Shalom Temple in Pittsburgh. 109. Bernard C. Clausen was minister of the First Baptist Church in Pittsburgh. 110. Before World War II, the Matson Line was the most luxurious fleet in the Pacific. During the war, all four Matson liners were used as war transport. Built in 1932,

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the Lurline measured 632 feet and could travel 19 to 22 knots. Designed to accommodate 722 passengers in luxury, once converted to a troop ship, she could transport more than 4,000. 111. There were eight POEs (ports of embarkation). Nearby camps provided staging areas for GIs assigned to ship overseas; Camp Stoneman was the staging area for the San Francisco POE. 112. For the Luzon campaign, see Introduction. 113. The BC-640 was a 50-watt, single-channel, rack-mounted, VHF ground-to-air transmitter manufactured in 1942 by Bendix. 114. The Bendix Radio Corporation, founded in 1936, developed and produced specialized military communications equipment. During World War II, Bendix, which employed more than 7,500 wartime workers at its Baltimore area plants, made a major contribution to the Allied war effort. 115. Neville Chamberlain (1869–1940), a Conservative British politician and prime minister (1937–40), advocated a policy of appeasement toward Hitler and orchestrated the Munich Agreement (1939). See also chap. 2, n. 21. 116. Edouard Daladier (1884–1970), a Radical Party leader and French premier (1933, 1934, 1938–40), supported appeasement and signed the Munich Agreement (1939). Also see chap. 2, n. 21. 117. Mission to Moscow (New York: Simon and Shuster, 1941), by Joseph E. Davies, was the best-selling memoir of the former U.S. ambassador to the Soviet Union (1936– 39), the chairman of the War Relief Board (1942–46), and an advocate of collective security. In his memoirs and a 1943 film based on them, Davies presented an overly sympathetic treatment of Soviet leaders and policies and a romanticized portrayal of the Russian people. For instance, Davies blamed the purge trials on Stalin’s opponents, characterized the Soviet invasions of Finland and Poland in 1939 as “self-defense,” and depicted the Russians (unlike he did the Nazis) as happy, freedom-loving people. Produced by Warner Brothers at FDR’s request and designed to strengthen the wartime alliance, the movie sought to foster public support for the Soviet Union in America and to highlight the Russian contribution to the defeat of Nazism. 118. Cavite, a protected harbor, is located about twenty-two miles southwest of Manila. In 1898, during its invasion of Luzon, the United States destroyed the Spanish fleet at Cavite. 119. See CDD to FRD, 6 August 1945; FRD to CDD, 24 August 1945. 120. Written by Louis Bromfield (1896–1956), a U.S. novelist, essayist, and journalist, Wild Is the River (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1941) is a romantic novel set in Civil War New Orleans occupied by northern troops. In a letter to Christine dated 21 September 1945, Frank described the novel as “a highly dramatic historical novel that puts a very objective perspective on the Civil War and its aftermath.” 121. In You Came Along (Paramount, 1945), a romance, three air corps heroes, including Major Bob Collins (Robert Cummings), return from Europe to participate in a bond tour organized by the Treasury Department. A mutual attraction develops between Bob, who has terminal leukemia, and their escort, Ivy (Lizabeth Scott). Bob and Ivy decide to marry when Ivy’s sister—whose wedding they attend—tells Ivy that she would marry her navy husband even if she knew he would not return. After Bob dies at Walter Reed Medical Center, Ivy attends his military funeral, while his two buddies fly their planes overhead in tribute.

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122. Betty Harrison Beske was Christine’s first cousin; her son, Garrett (Gary), was about the same age as Sally Lou. 123. The Hutterites, a religious group that originated in 1528 during the Reformation, profess, among other tenets, (pacifist) nonresistance and separation of church and state. North American Hutterites, in accord with biblical teachings, live communally. There are Hutterite collective colonies in Iowa—and in other states. 124. For another account of Frank’s visit with Ed Dobroski, see FRD to CDD, 24 September 1945. 125. Initially an anti-Nazi resistance song, “Die Moorsoldaten” (“The Peat Bog Soldiers”) became an international political protest song. It was written in 1933 in Germany, in the Börgermoor concentration camp, one of fifteen camps known collectively as the Moor camps. The Moor camps held political prisoners, including the prominent pacifist and journalist Carl von Ossietzky who, in 1935, while interned, won the Nobel Peace Prize. Frank learned “Die Moorsoldaten” during his 1935 visit to Germany. 126. Bruno Zachary, who served in the infantry in Europe, stepped on a land mine and lost a foot. 127. For his role in the Luzon campaign, Frank received a service (battle) star, which indicated participation in a combat campaign—in his case the Asiatic Pacific Campaign. 128. Josephine MacMillan was a distant cousin of Christine. 129. Probably Freddie Schwendiman, the son of the local Methodist minister, and Ann Hall, the daughter of family friends. 130. In “Her Highness and the Bellboy” (MGM, 1945), a bellboy (Robert Walker) temporarily abandons his invalid girlfriend to pursue a European princess (Hedy Lamarr) visiting New York. 131. Frank was assigned at different times to both the First and Eighth Fighter Control squadrons, which apparently remained together, as separate units, unassigned to a group. Initially assigned to the First Fighter Control Squadron, Frank moved to the Eighth Fighter Control Squadron, where he remained until he prepared to leave the Philippines for the United States, when he rejoined the First Fighter Control Squadron. 132. Liberty Ships—called “ugly ducklings” by FDR—were specially built cargo vessels that transported 75 percent of the cargo that supported the U.S. war effort. Henry J. Kaiser, whose shipyards built one-third of the some 2,700 Liberty Ships launched during the war, used mass production and prefabrication methods to reduce their construction time from one year in 1941 to just weeks in 1944. 133. Japan is an archipelago of four major islands; Tokyo (and Hiroshima) are located on Honshu, the largest island. 134. The 200th and 515th Coast Artillery antiaircraft units of the New Mexico National Guard—comprising more than 1,800 men, including many from Gallup— were sent to the Philippines three months before Pearl Harbor. Trapped by the Japanese invasion of the Philippines and taken prisoner after the fall of Bataan and Corregidor, many died in the Bataan death march; others died during their forty month ordeal in POW camps. Fewer than 900 survived the Philippines. Frank knew none of these National Guardsmen (Gallup Boys), since they had left Gallup in January 1941 for eight months of training at Fort Bliss, Texas, before he arrived in New Mexico.

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135. This letter contained Frank’s used ticket for a 9 November 1945 performance of the Manila Symphony Concert. 136. The GI Bill (Servicemen’s Readjustment Act of 1944) granted benefits to World War II veterans, including educational grants to pursue higher education or vocational training, mortgage loan guarantees, and cash payments for unemployed veterans. 137. Ed Francel was stationed at the Rohwer Relocation Camp, which operated from September 1942 to November 1945 and, at its peak, held 8,497 Japanese Americans. 138. Bruno Zachary, a social worker, had previously worked at Brashear Settlement House; the Brashear Association owned Brashear Camp. 139. Ligtong was located several miles from Fort McKinley. Frank visited Ligtong several times and met with Parron each time. 140. The bolo knife is a long, heavy, single-edge knife of Philippine origin. Similar to a machete, the bolo is used to clear land and jungle, chop wood, and kill livestock. 141. For the Yamashita trial, see Introduction. 142. General Hideki Tojo (1884–1948), who epitomized Japanese militarism, was Japan’s war minister (1940–41) and prime minister (October 1941–44). He ordered the attack on Pearl Harbor. At the International Military Tribunal for the Far East, Tojo was convicted of war crimes and hanged in December 1948. Tojo disliked Yamashita, who advocated peace with the United States and opposed the attack on Pearl Harbor. In 1940, Tojo sent Yamashita to Germany to inspect new weaponry, a tour that convinced Yamashita that Japan needed to modernize and strengthen its military. 143. Of Human Bondage (Warner Brothers, 1946) was a remake of the 1934 film that made Bette Davis a Hollywood star. In the postwar version, Philip (Paul Henlein), a clubfooted artist-turned-doctor, is obsessed with Mildred (Eleanor Parker), a lowerclass waitress, who betrays and emotionally abuses him. The film was based on a 1915 novel by W. Somerset Maugham; the Catholic Church placed the 1934 film on its “condemned list.” Completed in 1944, the remake was not released until 1946, due to a surplus of films produced during the later wartime years. Frank apparently watched a preview screening made available for GIs. 144. Winnie Ely and Frank were graduate students at the University of Pittsburgh. After graduation, Ely took a job in Phoenix; after he moved to Gallup, Frank visited her. Frank had relinquished the wheel to one of the women; she did not see the barricade that guarded the washed-out bridge, and the car plunged into a four-foot arroyo. During the three weeks that Christine—the only passenger injured—remained in the hospital, Frank visited regularly. The other two women were teacher colleagues of Christine. There is no extant letter by Frank to Albert describing this accident. 145. At the time, states could choose between celebrating Thanksgiving on the third or the fourth Thursday of November. 146. Ralph A. Dickey Jr., who had been discharged from the navy, was working in Greenwood, Mississippi, for General Motors Acceptance Company. Milton (Dick) G. Dickey had also been discharged from the navy. This was their first shared Thanksgiving in eight years. 147. Vasa deferentia are male sperm ducts; Albert was facetiously implying that Frank had given birth to him. 148. Old Mother Hooligan was a customer of the twins’ dad when he operated a “door to door” business selling groceries from his truck. He often quoted her, no doubt because of her peculiar personality.

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149. For Erna Marie Penner, see Introduction, n. 29. 150. Philosopher Charles Sanders Peirce (1839–1915), the founder of American pragmatism, argued that the universe was in constant flux; thus every second (or nanosecond) represented a distinct universe of experience. 151. Clarence S. Day Jr. (1874–1935) was an American essayist, humorist, and illustrator known for his irony and satire. In This Simian World (New York: Knopf, 1920), he examined the simian (apelike) nature of people and human civilization and speculated on a civilization dominated by other species. 152. GI Chapels were temporary buildings used for church services and presided over by military chaplains. 153. Traffic accidents, often the result of excessive drinking and reckless driving, were the leading cause of noncombat casualties among GIs.

Chapter 5: 1946 1. Conchies is a nickname for COs. 2. CORE, founded in 1942 as the Committee of Racial Equality, soon changed its name to Congress of Racial Equality. For CORE, see Introduction. 3. The Office of Price Administration, which controlled prices and rationed goods during the war, championed racial equality. Under OPA Administrator Chester Bowles, blacks comprised 14 percent of the OPA’s Washington staff, compared to an average of 1 percent in other government agencies. In his memoirs, Bowles recalled that racists within the government referred to the OPA as “nigger heaven.” 4. During World War II, the FOR took a leading role in opposing the relocation and internment of 120,000 first generation (Issei) and second generation (Nisei) Japanese Americans. FDR’s Executive Order 9066, issued in February 1942, permitted the removal of “all persons of Japanese ancestry” from “military areas,” which the military defined as the entire West Coast. The FOR protested the exclusion order, tended the property of evacuees, dispatched staffers to the relocation camps, and helped Japanese Americans resettle after their release. Gordon Hirabayashi, a Nisei pacifist, conscientious objector, Quaker, and FOR member, defied the evacuation order, arguing that it violated his civil rights. He appealed his 1942 conviction to the U.S. Supreme Court which, in Hirabayashi v. United States (1943), ruled 9–0 against him. His conviction was finally overturned in 1987. 5. With FDR’s Executive Order 9066, the War Department began to relocate some 120,000 Japanese Americans to racetracks, fairgrounds, and other temporary receiving stations—and later to permanent camps. Established in March 1942, the WRA set up and administered ten permanent internment camps. After his 1944 reelection, FDR rescinded EO 9066. The WRA then helped internees to relocate and closed the camps at the end of 1945. 6. Established in 1933, the Tennessee Valley Authority, among the most successful New Deal agencies, directed a program of social planning and development. The TVA built multipurpose dams to control floods and provide inexpensive hydroelectric power, sponsored soil conservation and reforestation, and promoted social programs, all which transformed the lives of Tennessee Valley residents.

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7. Formed in 1942 by religious pacifists and pacifist organizations, the Pacifist Research Bureau conducted “research for peace” (to borrow the title of one of its flyers). Located in Philadelphia, the group studied and published pamphlets and other literature on contemporary issues, including the use of force, conscription, pacifism, nonviolent action, and world government. For the War Resisters League, see Introduction. 8. Society of Friends (Quakers). 9. Lois S. McVey was Supervisor of Child Welfare Services for the New Mexico Department of Public Welfare. 10. Albert, along with the 18,000 COs in CPS and prison who refused the option of (usually) medical noncombatant work in the armed services (I-A-O classification), argued that such assignments supported the war machine and made killing more efficient. Similarly, many pacifists contended that the Red Cross was pro-military and supported the armed forces. 11. The American Veterans Committee, a politically liberal veterans organization, was founded in 1944 by men and women who served in the armed forces, the merchant marine, and the Maritime Service. The AVC, which endorsed a program of peace, jobs, and freedom for all Americans and not just veterans, advocated assistance (financial, medical, vocational, and educational) for all veterans, full employment, social security, liberal freedoms, the United Nations, and the disarmament of Germany and Japan. 12. At the San Francisco conference (25 April–26 June 1945), delegates from fifty nations met at the United Nations Conference on International Organization and wrote the U.N. Charter, which they signed on 26 June. The U.N. was created on 24 October 1945, after the charter had been ratified by the five permanent members and a majority of the other members. On 10 January 1946, the first U.N. General Assembly met in London. 13. Founded in 1919 by members of the American Expeditionary Force, the American Legion is a politically conservative and nationalistic veterans’ organization. It promotes a broad agenda, including legislation to benefit veterans, help for disabled veterans, patriotism, national security, youth programs, and community service. 14. The Veterans of Foreign Wars of the United States is a politically conservative veterans’ organization that has worked to obtain medical care, pensions, and other benefits for veterans. Established in 1913 and chartered by Congress in 1936, the VFW originated in the Spanish-American War (1898) and the Philippine Insurrection (1899–1902), when veterans of those conflicts returned home and formed local veterans’ groups to obtain medical care and pensions, which were not then provided. 15. William W. McDermet directed the personnel office in the Nebraska Welfare Department. 16. In October 1945, Gimbel’s Department Store in New York City held the nation’s first sale of ballpoint pens (“dry ink pens” which, unlike fountain pens, did not require refilling). On the sale’s first day, Gimbel’s sold its entire stock of ten thousand pens at $12.50 each. In a New York Times advertisement, Gimbel’s touted the new ballpoint pen as “a fantastic . . . miraculous fountain pen . . . guaranteed to write for two years without refilling!” 17. Founded by Mary Bethune, Bethune-Cookman College is a historically black, United Methodist Church–affiliated college in Daytona Beach, Florida. Established in 1904 as the Daytona Educational and Industrial Training School for Negro Girls, it

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merged with the Cookman Institution and became a coed high school in 1923; in 1929, it was renamed Bethune-Cookman College. 18. Mary McLeod Bethune (1875–1955), born in South Carolina to former slaves, was a prominent black female educator and political activist. In 1904, she founded a female teaching academy that became Bethune-Cookman College; she served as president of the college until 1942 (and again in 1946–47). Among other accomplishments, she led a drive to register black voters in Daytona Beach; headed the National Association of Colored Women’s Clubs, the National Association of Colored Women, and the National Council of Negro Women, which she also founded; advised Presidents Coolidge, Hoover, and Roosevelt on education, child welfare, and home ownership; served in FDR’s “Black Cabinet”; and directed the Division of Negro Affairs of the National Youth Administration, making her the first woman to head a federal agency. During World War II, Bethune both lobbied the War Department to commission black women officers in the Women’s Army Auxiliary Corps (WAAC), later the Women’s Army Corps (WAC), and advised the Secretary of War on the selection of candidates for Officer Training School for WAACS. 19. Juilliard, founded in 1905 in New York City, is perhaps the premier music academy in the United States. 20. Grand mal is the most severe type of epileptic seizure. During a grand mal seizure, which lasts two to three minutes and cannot be stopped by caretakers, the patient becomes unconscious and has convulsions over the entire body. 21. Blanche Theborn (1918– ), a popular singer with the New York Metropolitan Opera, also appeared in films. 22. This folktale exists in various national versions and permutations but, in most, a pancake jumps from the frying pan and runs away to avoid being eaten. 23. On the importance of prayer, in omitted portions of this letter Albert quoted Albert Einstein, Robert Andrews Millikan (atomic scientist), Beatrice Webb (sociologist and historian), Christ (in Matthew), and Shakespeare. In addition, he cited another half-dozen contemporaries. 24. On 14 May 1946, Congress passed and Truman signed a six-week draft extension and, in June, an additional one-year extension to expire on 31 March 1947. See also chap. 4, n. 53. 25. For universal military training, see chap. 4, n. 53. 26. Soho Community House was located in Pittsburgh. 27. Kimball Young (1893–1972) was a sociologist and the grandson of Mormon leader Brigham Young; Robert M. McIver (1882–1970) was a Scottish-born sociologist; Bronislaw Malinowski (1884–1942) was a Polish-born social anthropologist. 28. This letter is located in AGD Papers. 29. Grace attended Pennsylvania State University at State College, Pennsylvania, but quit in her senior year to get married. 30. Clarance W. Dahl (b. 1920), a CO, served at Hill City with Albert. They maintained a correspondence after Albert left Hill City. 31. In December 1945, the Mancos director was Charles F. Thomas (not Adams). 32. This letter is located in AGD Papers; In letters to Albert dated 12 and 26 August 1946 (in AGD Papers), Lowenberg sharply criticized CPS and the MCC while fondly recalling his CO friends and the activities they had shared. On 12 August, in a reference to Leavenworth, where he was sent after defying CPS, he wrote, “Should have gone

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Notes to Pages 305–306

there at first where Thoreau would be today. I daresay he retched violently in his grave when all the good men marched to CPS.” 33. Ralph O. Brewster (1888–1961), a Maine Republican, was a U.S. senator (1941–52); U.S. representative (1935–41); governor (1925–29); and state senator (1923–25). 34. Wallace H. White, Jr. (1877–1952), a Maine Republican, was a U.S. senator (1931–49), Senate majority leader (1947–49), Senate minority leader (1944–47); and U.S. representative (1917–31). 35. Frank Fellows (1889–1951), a Maine Republican who died in office, served in the U.S. House of Representatives from 1941 to 1951. 36. Author was unable to locate information on Dahl’s community; however, many COs, motivated by a vision of a peaceful world and cooperative society, studied communal living and cooperatives while in CPS and prison and, after the war, experimented with alternative living arrangements. 37. Byberry State Hospital was a mental institution in Philadelphia and home to CPS camp #49. During the war, COs assigned to Byberry cared for mental patients. 38. Goshen College is a Mennonite college in Goshen, Indiana. In 1946, Eastern Mennonite School, founded in 1917, included both college and high school levels; in 1993, EMS became Eastern Mennonite University. 39. Stanley Voth (b. 1924), a Mennonite, served in Hill City and Mulberry CPS camps with Albert. For Voth and the cattle boats, see Introduction and n. 215 (in Introduction). 40. Jarmilla Vosjkova, a foreign student from Czechoslovakia, had attended the Pittsburgh College for Women on a fellowship. In Pittsburgh, she and the Dietrichs were friends. She returned to Prague and survived the war.

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SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY

Manuscript Collections Center on Conscience and War Records (originally the National Service Board for Religious Objectors [NSBRO]; later, National Interreligious Service Board for Religious Objectors [NISBRO]. DG-25, Swarthmore College Peace Collection, Swarthmore, Pennsylvania. Albert G. Dietrich and Frank R. Dietrich Correspondence, 1939–46. CDG-A, Swarthmore College Peace Collection, Swarthmore, Pennsylvania. Albert G. Dietrich Papers, private collection, Albert G. Dietrich family, Harborside, Maine. Frank R. Dietrich and Christine D. Dietrich Papers, private collection, Frank R. and Christine D. Dietrich, La Junta, Colorado.

Personal Communications and Interviews Frank R. Dietrich and Christine D. Dietrich to the author (E-mails and letters): 10 February 2002; 15 June 2002; 4 July 2002; 28 August 2002; 30 December 2002; 10 January 2003; 18 January 2003; 30 October 2003; 8 November 2003; 14 November 2003; 12 July 2004; 13 July 2004 (2); 17 July 2004 (2); 31 July 2004. Bryon Augsturger, taped telephone interview with the author, 20 June 2002. Rick Lowenberg, taped telephone interview with the author, 20 June 2002. Stanley Voth, taped telephone interview with the author, 10 July 2002.

Newspapers and Periodicals Box 96 (Mulberry, Florida, CPS camp) Conscientious Objector Crestviews (Crestview, Florida, CPS unit) Fellowship New York Times Pacifica Views: A Weekly Newspaper of Conscientious Objectors 365

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366

Selected Bibliography

Rushmore Reflector (Hill City, South Dakota, CPS camp) Vanguard (Denison, Iowa, CPS camp)

Books and Articles Allen, Devere. The Fight For Peace. New York: Macmillan, 1930. Alonso, Harriet H. Peace as a Women’s Issue: A History of the U.S. Movement for World Peace and Women’s Rights. Syracuse, N.Y.: Syracuse University Press, 1993. Aluit, Alfonso J. The Conscience of the Nation: A History of the Red Cross in the Philippines, 1896–1972. 2nd rev. ed. Manila: Galleon Publications, 1972. ———. By Sword and Fire: The Destruction of Manila in World War II: 3 February–3 March 1945. Manila: National Commission for Culture and the Arts, 1994. Ambrose, Stephen E. Citizen Soldiers: The U.S. Army from the Normandy Beaches to the Bulge to the Surrender of Germany, June 7, 1944–May 7, 1945. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1997. Anderson, Jervis. Bayard Rustin: Troubles I’ve Seen. New York: HarperCollins, 1997. Anderson, Karen. Wartime Women: Sex Roles, Family Relations, and the Status of Women During World War II. Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press, 1981. Aquila, Richard, ed. Home Front Soldier: The Story of a GI and His Italian American Family During World War II. Albany: State University of New York Press, 1999. Astor, Gerald. Crisis in the Pacific: The Battles for the Philippine Islands by the Men Who Fought Them. New York: Donald L. Fine, 1996. Bennett, Scott H. Radical Pacifism: The War Resisters League and Gandhian Nonviolence in America, 1915–1963. Syracuse, N.Y.: Syracuse University Press, 2003. ———. “Free American Political Prisoners: Pacifist Activism and Civil Liberties, 1945–1948.” Journal of Peace Research 40 (July 2003): 413–433. Blum, John M. V Was For Victory: Politics and American Culture During World War II. New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1976. Bowles, Chester. Promises to Keep: My Years in Public Life, 1941–1969. New York: Harper & Row, 1971. Brock, Peter. Pacifism in the United States: From the Colonial Era to the First World War. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1968. ———. ‘These Strange Criminals’: An Anthology of Prison Memoirs by Conscientious Objectors from the Great War to the Cold War. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2004.

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Brock, Peter, and Nigel Young. Pacifism in the Twentieth Century. Syracuse, N.Y.: Syracuse University Press, 1999. Brokaw, Tom. The Greatest Generation. New York: Random House, 1998. Bush, Perry. Two Kingdoms, Two Loyalties: Mennonite Pacifism in Modern America. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1998. Cambell, D’Ann. Women at War with America: Private Lives in a Patriotic Era. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1984. Carter, Kit C., and Robert Mueller. The Army Air Forces in World War II: Combat Chronology, 1941–1945. [Washington, D.C.?]: Albert F. Simpson Historical Research Center and Office of Air Force History, 1973. Chambers, John W. To Raise an Army: The Draft Comes to Modern America. New York: The Free Press, 1987. ———. “Conscientious Objectors and the American State from Colonial Times to the Present.” In The New Conscientious Objection: From Sacred to Secular Resistance, edited by Charles C. Moskos and John W. Chambers. New York: Oxford University Press, 1993, 23–46. Chatfield, Charles. For Peace and Justice: Pacifism in America, 1914–1941. Knoxville: University of Tennessee Press, 1971. ———. The American Peace Movement: Ideals and Activism. New York: Twayne Publishers, 1992. Craven, Wesley F., and James L. Cate, eds. The Army Air Forces in World War II. Vol. 6, Men and Planes. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1955. ———. The Army Air Forces in World War II. Vol. 7, Services Around the World. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1958. Daniels, Roger. Coming to America: A History of Immigration and Ethnicity in American Life. 2nd ed. New York: Perennial, 2002. Deák, István, Jan T. Gross, and Tony Judt, eds. The Politics of Retribution in Europe: World War II and Its Aftermath. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2000. DeBenedetti, Charles. The Peace Reform in American History. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1980. D’Emilio, John. Lost Prophet: The Life and Times of Bayard Rustin. New York: Free Press, 2003. De Ligt, Bart. The Conquest of Violence: An Essay on War and Revolution. New York: E. P. Dutton & Co., 1938. Dellinger, David. From Yale to Jail: The Life Story of a Moral Dissenter. New York: Pantheon, 1993. Early, Frances H. A World Without War: How U.S. Feminists and Pacifists Resisted World War I. Syracuse, N.Y.: Syracuse University Press, 1997. Eller, Cynthia. Conscientious Objectors and the Second World War: Moral and Religious Arguments in Support of Pacifism. New York: Praeger, 1991.

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368

Selected Bibliography

Flynn, George Q. Lewis B. Hershey, Mr. Selective Service. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1985. ———. The Draft, 1940–1973. Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 1993. Frazer, Heather T., and John O’Sullivan. “Forgotten Women of World War II: Wives of Conscientious Objectors in Civilian Public Service.” Peace & Change 5 (Fall 1978): 46–51. ———. “We Have Just Begun To Not Fight”: An Oral History of Conscientious Objectors in Civilian Public Service During World War II. New York: Twayne Publishers, 1996. Gara, Larry, and Lenna Mae Gara, eds. A Few Small Candles: War Resisters of World War II Tell Their Stories. Kent, Ohio: Kent State University Press, 1999. Garcia, Juan R. Operation Wetback: The Mass Deportation of Mexican Undocumented Workers in 1954. Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press, 1980. Gingerich, Melvin. Service for Peace: A History of Mennonite Civilian Service. Akron, Penn.: The Mennonite Central Committee, 1949. Goldberg, Alfred, ed. A History of the United States Air Force, 1907–1957. Princeton, N.J.: D. Van Nostrand Co., 1957. Gonzales, Manuel G. Mexicanos: A History of Mexicans in the United States. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1999. Goossen, Rachael W. Women Against the Good War: Conscientious Objection and Gender on the American Home Front, 1941–1947. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1997. Gregg, Richard B. The Power of Nonviolence. New York: Schocken Books, 1966. Hartmann, Susan M. The Home Front and Beyond: American Women in the 1940s. Boston: Twayne Publishers, 1982. Hershberger, Guy F. War, Peace, and Nonresistance. Scottdale, Penn.: Herald Press, 1944. ———. The Mennonite Church in the Second World War. Scottdale, Penn.: Mennonite Publishing House, 1951. Houser, George M. CORE: A Brief History. New York: Congress of Racial Equality, 1949. Hughan, Jessie W. Pacifism and Invasion. New York: War Resisters League, 1942. Jeffries, John W. Wartime America: The World War II Home Front. Chicago: Ivan R. Dee, 1996. Keim, Albert N. The CPS Story: An Illustrated History of Civilian Public Service. Intercourse, Penn.: Good Books, 1990. Keim, Albert N., and Grant M. Stoltzfus. The Politics of Conscience: The Historic Peace Churches and America at War, 1917–1955. Scottdale, Penn.: Herald Press, 1988.

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369

Kennett, Lee. For the Duration: The United States Goes to War, Pearl Harbor–1942. New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1985. ———. G.I.: The American Soldier in World War II. New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1987. Kohn, Stephen M. Jailed for Peace: The History of American Draft Law Violators, 1658–1985. Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press, 1986. Krammer, Arnold. Nazi Prisoners of War in America. New York: Stein and Day, 1979. ———. Undue Process: The Untold Story of America’s German Alien Internees. London: Rowman & Littlefield, 1997. La Farge, Oliver. Laughing Boy. Cambridge, Mass.: Houghton Mifflin, 1929. Levine, Daniel. Bayard Rustin and the Civil Rights Movement. New Brunswick, N.J.: Rutgers University Press, 1999. Lingeman, Richard R. Don’t You Know There’s A War On? The American Home Front, 1941–1945. New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 1970. Litoff, Judy B., and David C. Smith, eds. Miss You: The World War II Letters of Barbara Wooddall Taylor and Charles E. Taylor. By Barbara and Charles Taylor. Athens: University of Georgia Press, 1990. ———. Dear Boys: World War II Letters from a Woman Back Home. Jackson: University Press of Mississippi, 1991. ———. Since You Went Away: World War II Letters from American Women on the Home Front. New York: Oxford University Press, 1991. ———. We’re in This War, Too: World War II Letters from American Women in Uniform. New York: Oxford University Press, 1994. ———. American Women in A World at War: Contemporary Accounts from World War II. Wilmington, Del.: Scholarly Resources, 1997. Meier, August, and Elliott Rudwick. CORE: A Study in the Civil Rights Movement, 1942–1968. New York: Oxford University Press, 1973. Miller, Virgil J. “Reminiscences of the CPS Camp at Mulberry, Florida.” In Polk County Historical Quarterly 22 (December 1995): 2–3, 7. Moskos, Charles C., and John W. Chambers. The New Conscientious Objection: From Sacred to Secular. New York: Oxford University Press, 1993. Naeve, Lowell, and David Wieck. A Field of Broken Stones. Glen Gardner, N.J.: Libertarian Press, 1950. O’Neill, William L. A Democracy at War: America’s Fight at Home and Abroad in World War II. New York: The Free Press, 1993. Ong, Charlson. The Philippine National Red Cross: 50 Years of Courage and Commitment. Manila: The Philippine National Red Cross and GMA Foundation, 1997.

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370

Selected Bibliography

O’Sullivan, John. From Voluntarism to Conscription: Congress and Selective Service, 1940–1945. New York: Garland Publishing, 1982. Peck, James. We Who Would Not Kill. New York: Lyle Stuart, 1958. Perrett, Geoffrey. Days of Sadness, Years of Triumph: The American People, 1939–1941. Baltimore: Penguin Books, 1973. Polenberg, Richard. War and Society: The United States, 1941–1945. Philadelphia: J. B. Lippincott, 1972. Reel, Frank A. The Case of General Yamashita. New York: Octagon Books, 1971. Robinson, Jo Ann Ooiman. Abraham Went Out: A Biography of A. J. Muste. Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1981. Sharp, Gene. The Politics of Nonviolent Action. 3 vols. Boston: Porter Sargent, 1973. Shridharani, Krishnalal. War Without Violence: A Study of Gandhi’s Method and Its Accomplishments. New York: Harcourt, Brace & Co., 1939. Sibley, Mulford Q., and Philip E. Jacob, Conscription of Conscience: The American State and the Conscientious Objector, 1940–1947. Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1952. Smith, Robert R. Triumph in the Philippines. United States Army in World War II: The War in the Pacific. Washington, D.C.: Office of the Chief of the Military History Department of the Army, 1963. Terkel, Studs. “The Good War”: An Oral History of World War II. New York: Pantheon, 1984. Toews, Paul. Mennonites in American Society, 1930–1970: Modernity and the Persistence of Religious Community. Scottdale, Penn.: Herald Press, 1996. Tracy, James. Direct Action: Radical Pacifism from the Union Eight to the Chicago Seven. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1996. Van Dyck, Harry R. Exercise of Conscience: A WWII Objector Remembers. Buffalo, N.Y.: Prometheus Books, 1990. Weinberg, Gerhard L. A World at Arms: A Global History of World War II. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994. Wilson, Adrian. Two Against the Tide: A Conscientious Objector in World War II: Selected Letters, 1941–1948. Ed. Joyce Lancaster Wilson. Austin, Tex.: W. Thomas Taylor, 1990. Winkler, Allan. Home Front U.S.A.: America During World War II. Arlington Heights, Ill.: Harland Davidson, Inc., 1986. Wittner, Lawrence S. Rebels Against War: The American Peace Movement, 1933–1983. Rev. ed. Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1984.

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371

Encyclopedias, Dictionaries, Handbooks, Directories, and Bibliographies Army Air Forces. The Official Guide to the Army Air Forces: A Directory, Almanac and Chronicle of Achievement. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1944. Bright, Charles D., ed. Historical Dictionary of the U.S. Air Force. Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press, 1992. Brock, Peter. Pacifism Since 1914: An Annotated Reading List. Toronto: Peter Brock, 2000. Chambers, John W., ed. The Oxford Companion to American Military History. New York: Oxford University Press, 1999. Dear, I. C. B., and M. R. D. Food, eds. The Oxford Companion to World War II. New York: Oxford University Press, 1995. Dunnigan, James F., and Albert A. Nofi. The Pacific War Encyclopedia. 2 vols. New York: Facts on File, 1998. Garraty, John A., and Mark C. Carnes, eds. American National Biography. New York: Oxford University Press, 1999. Goralski, Robert. World War II Almanac, 1931–1945: A Political and Military Record. New York: Perigee Books, 1981. Heflin, Woodford A., ed. The United States Air Force Dictionary. Princeton, N.J.: D. Van Nostrand Co., n.d. [Military Service Publishing?]. The Officer’s Guide: A Ready Reference on Customs and Correct Procedures Which Pertain to Officers of the United States Army. 29th ed. Harrisburg, Penn.: The Stackpole Co., 1963. National Interreligious Service Board for Conscientious Objectors. Directory of Civilian Public Service. Rev. ed. Washington, D.C.: NISBCO, 1994. Sandler, Stanley, ed. World War II in the Pacific: An Encyclopedia. New York: Garland Publishing, 2001. Seymour-Smith, Martin, and Andrew C. Kimmens, eds. World Authors: 1900–1950. 4 vols. New York: H. W. Wilson Co., 1996. Shull, Michael S., and David E. Wilt. Hollywood War Films, 1937–1945: An Exhaustive Filmography of American Feature-Length Motion Pictures Relating to World War II. Jefferson, N.C.: McFarland & Co., 1996. Smith, J. Douglas, and Richard Jensen. World War II on the Web: A Guide to the Very Best Sites. Wilmington, Del.: Scholarly Resources, 2003. Wheal, Elizabeth-Anne, Stephen Pope, and James Taylor. A Dictionary of the Second World War. New York: Peter Bedrick Books, 1990.

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INDEX

American Legion, 290 American Red Cross employment by, 102 morale boosted by, 25 overseas send-off by, 161 in Philippines, 25, 177–78 American Revolution, 56–57, 58 American Veterans Committee, 290 Andrus, Frank, 156, 159, 162 Angeles City, Philippines Clark Air Base in, 22 correspondence from, 197–98, 200–205, 208–11, 218–23 thefts in, 222 transfers from, 225–26, 229 “Anglo” domination, 90 APO. See U.S. Army Post Office appeal hearing, 94–96, 102 appeasement policies, 246 aptitude tests, 78 Armstrong, Steve, 189–90, 193 Army censorship by, 159, 160, 161, 187, 232, 233, 237 communications ban by, 161 induction into, 109, 112–14 propaganda by, 104, 195 sexual morality in, 168–69 Army Air Forces (AAF) comradeship in, 87 induction into, 72, 76 numbness felt in, 79 personal interviews for, 78 radio technologies essential to, 14, 15–16, 245 technical schools of, 15–16 Army General Classification Test (AGCT), 14 Army Ground Forces, 14

AAF. See Army Air Forces AAF Technical School, 15–16 aborigines, 179 absolutists CO status for, 13, 30 prison sentencing for, 30 World War I, 30 aerosol bombs, 258–59 AFSC. See American Friends Service Committee AGCT. See Army General Classification Test Air Corps Technical School, 15 Albrecht, Helen, 120 Allies, 3, 49 Altheimer, Arkansas correspondence from, 172–73, 199–200, 206–7, 214, 223–25, 233–34, 251–52, 256–58, 269–70 prison camp in, 173 Thanksgiving in, 270 Ambrose, Stephen, 46 America. See also United States democracy in, 90 individualism in, 195 morale in, 197 multicultural, 6 post WWII, course of, 196 refugees aided by, 92 American Association of Social Workers, discharge letters from, 171, 194 American Friends Service Committee (AFSC), 44, 295–96 American Indians Navajo, 72–73, 89, 100–101 Quaker’s relationships with, 66 American Institutions education in, 106 preservation of, 108

373

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374

Index

Army Service Forces, 14 Army Specialized Training Program (ASTP), 128–29 Ashkee of Sunshine Water: A Navajo Indian Boy (Hill, Rice), 89, 100 ASTP. See Army Specialized Training Program Atlantic Charter, 148 atomic bomb dropping of, 22, 214–16 Japan’s reaction to, 215 literature regarding, 237, 259 secrecy surrounding, 215 testing of, 239 atomic energy, harnessing of, 230 atomic technology Russia’s access to, 218 U.N. restraint using, 236–37 Axis nations, 3, 101 Aztecs, 93, 98 B-29 Super-Fortress Café, 180 Bach Choral Society, 10 Bangor, Maine cost of living in, 304 Family Welfare Society of, 295–96, 299–300, 302 postwar life in, 45 Republicans in, 305 Bartow Army Air Base, 300 Bartow, Florida Albert’s hospitalization in, 271–72 correspondence from, 300–302 Bataan: battles of, 20; Death March, 20 Battle of Manila, 20–21, 28 battle stars, 255 Beatrice, Nebraska Christmas spent in, 88 correspondence from, 50–51, 52–55, 57–62, 64–67, 70–71, 73–76, 80–82, 86, 88, 89–90, 94–99, 99, 102–3, 109–11 Penner’s home in, 9–10 Beatrice Peace Fellowship, 80 Beatrice Symphony, 53 Bethune-Cookman College, 42–43, 292–93 Bethune, Mary, 42 Bevin, Ernest, 177 Bible, mandated reading of, 7

Big Three Ultimatum. See Potsdam Conference mandate Bishop, George, 174 Black Hills, 38, 129, 134, 138 black market, 175 Box 96 (newspaper), 42, 43, 292 Boyd, Mary, 110–11 Brashear Settlement, 84 Brewster, Ralph O., 305 Britain appeasement policies of, 246 democracy in, 90 elections in, 27, 208, 218–19 New Deal and, 49 Brokaw, Tom, 45, 46 Brown, Jim, 227–28 Bruneau, Ferne, 110–11 Bureau of Reclamation, 38 Burke-Wadsworth bill, 13 Camp Chaffee, Arkansas correspondence from, 287–88 military discharge from, 269, 274 “camp life,” GIs, 23–25 Camp Stoneman, 241 Canyon de Chelly, 72–73 carbine 30 caliber, 155 casual squadron, 157 Catholic Church in China, 131–32 Filipino morality and, 186 Cavite beach, 247 censorship, 159, 160, 161, 187, 232, 233, 237 Centron, Philippines, 254 Chaco Canyon, 72 Chamberlain, Neville, 246 Chanute Field, Illinois correspondence from, 130–33 educational shortcomings at, 17 off-base housing at, 17, 18 soldier’s treatment at, 130 Sustineo Alas Army Air Forces Technical School at, 17, 130 Chautauqua, New York, 6–7, 52, 273 Cherokee, Iowa, 142 Chicago Northwestern Railroad, Mexicans working for, 211

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Index

Child Welfare foster homes for, 50–51 merit system of, 64 workers for, 10 China, Catholic Church in, 131–32 Christianity challenges for, 240 democratic processes of, 42 failure of, 259 principles of, 40–41, 84, 93, 108, 234, 296 Christmas, 38, 54–55, 87, 88, 122–23, 127–28 Churchill, Winston Frank’s opinion of, 27 heroism of, 208 resignation by, 177 Citizens’ Enrollment Committee, 63, 68 Civilian Public Service Program (CPS) Albert released from, 44 camps of, 32, 38–44, 46, 124–30 COs debates about, 41 COs position towards, 30 Mennonites interactions with, 29, 32, 38 military control over, 30 peace churches influence on, 29, 30, 31 physical injuries suffered in, 42–44, 269–70, 271–72, 278, 279, 292, 299, 301–2 service in, 2 smoke jumpers of, 114 civil rights, 12 Clark Field, Philippines Christmas at, 281 correspondence from, 267–69 Frank stationed at, 22 KP duty on, 281–82 school at, 242 Clary, Willis, 173 Clearwater, Florida, correspondence from, 77–79 Cleveland, Ohio, mental hospital in, 148 Committee of Racial Equality (CORE). See Congress of Racial Equality concentration camps, 217 Conchies, 284. See also conscientious objectors Congress of Racial Equality (CORE), 43, 285 Conrad, Joseph, 25, 173

375

conscientious objectors (COs). See also IV-E classification absolutist, 13, 30 Christianity and, 259 CPS debated among, 41 Form 47 filing by, 33, 70 government recognition of, 75 legitimate claims for, 91 prison sentencing for, 30–31, 109, 110 provisions for, 60 public opinions towards, 30, 81–82 resistant, 30, 31 rights of, 29–30 service, 30 veteran work by, 288–89 Constitution, violations of, 285–86 CORE. See Congress of Racial Equality Corregidor, 20 COs. See conscientious objectors CO status Albert’s legal battle for, 33–37, 87, 90–91, 94–96, 102, 105–10, 118 granting of, 33 qualifications for, 13, 31 Coughlinites, 56 CPS. See Civilian Public Service Program CPS camp #18. See also Denison, Iowa social/cultural life in, 41–42 Soil Conservation Project at, 40, 142, 271 teaching social psychology at, 134, 141–42 CPS camp #27. See also Mulberry, Florida fifty year reunion of, 46 hookworm prevention at, 41–42, 271 social/cultural activities at, 42–44, 289 CPS camp #57. See also Hill City, South Dakota daily routine at, 126–27 honesty in, 140 monetary allowances at, 141 office work at, 136 political division at, 40, 139–40 social/cultural activities at, 38–39 transfer from, 135–36 CPS camp #101, 32 The Crisis of Our Age (Sorokin), 38 culture of Navajos, 100–101

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376

Index

culture (cont.) primitive, 186 rights of, 101 currency Japanese, 188 values of, 175–76 Daladier, Edouard, 246 Days of Our Years (Paassen), 132 Daytona Beach, Florida, 292–93 The Decline of the West (Spengler), 38 Deener, David, 84, 110, 291 Deerfield Dam Project, 38, 135 defense bonds, 54, 65 Dell, Dwight appeal letter by, 110–11 background of, 64–65 car accident involving, 61–62 Christmas spent with, 54–55 testimony by, 96 demobilization. See also discharge point system used for, 28–29, 210, 243, 264, 265, 274 democracy Albert’s sense of, 35–36 American, 96 defending of, 58–59 fighting for, 90 Denison, Iowa correspondence from, 141–42, 145–46, 147–49 CPS camp in, 32, 41–42, 134, 142, 271 drawbacks of, 134–35 furloughs from, 145–46, 148 transfer from, 148–49 Denver, Colorado, 306 Department of Justice, appeal hearing by, 94–96, 102 Depression. See Great Depression Des Moines, Iowa, correspondence from, 105–7 detached service, 134 Deuel, Elizabeth, 65 Dickey, Charles, 152 Dickey, Christine, 14. See also Dietrich, Christine Dickey, Dorothy, 151 Dickey, Milton, 14

Dickey, Ralph, 14 Dietrich, Albert Giles basic tenets of, 109–10 children of, 45 CPS camp life for, 38–44, 291 CPS service by, 29–33, 271, 303–4 discharge of, 288 family life of, 110–11, 114–15 legal battle for CO status by, 33–37, 73–74, 87, 90–91, 94–96, 102, 105–10, 118 Mennonites influence on, 31 pacifist beliefs by, 10, 36, 58 FOR participation by, 53 physical injuries of, 42–44, 269–70, 271–72, 278, 279, 292, 299, 301–2 post-war plans by, 295 religious convictions of, 35–36, 98, 100, 296–98 war philosophy of, 60, 61, 95 WWII positioning of, 2 Dietrich, Christine employment of, 111–12, 117 Japan surrenders, experiences of, 223–24 marriage of, 1, 2, 16, 68, 103, 111, 112, 117–18 postwar life for, 45, 265, 275 pregnancy of, 17, 132, 256 Dietrich Correspondence, 2–3, 10–11 Dietrich, David, 45 Dietrich family church ties by, 4–5 cultural racism surrounding, 5–6 political stance of, 4 social portrait of, 5–6 Dietrich, Frank Adam (father) background of, 4 FBI interviews with, 82 letters written by, 134 marriage of, 4–5 Dietrich, Frank Ryall appeal letter by, 106–8 children of, 3, 18–19, 45 correspondence censorship for, 159, 160, 161, 187, 232, 233, 237 discharge of, 28–29, 210, 243, 265, 274, 276, 281, 287

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Index

FBI interviews with, 83–85 German studies by, 8–9 Japan surrenders, experiences of, 220–21, 225–26 married life of, 16, 111, 112, 117–18, 163 overseas journey by, 161–67, 193–94, 241–42, 267, 274 parenthood for, 18–19, 138, 260 political views of, 26–28, 195–96, 197–98, 209–10 postwar plans of, 45, 265, 275 radio communications career of, 14–17, 78, 133, 191–92, 241, 245–46 religious beliefs of, 238–39, 253, 259 Roosevelt’s impression on, 158 secret code developed by, 19, 151, 188–89 teaching experiences of, 99–100 WWII experiences of, 2, 14–29 Dietrich, Grace, 212, 228–29, 272, 284 Dietrich, Lawrence Edwards, 45 Dietrich, Louis and Gertrude Albert’s conflict with, 110–11 correspondence from, 116, 140–41, 194 Dietrich, Louise Edwards (mother), 4–5 Dietrich, Mark, 45 Dietrich, Mary Louise, 45 Dietrich, Sally Lou birth mark of, 219 birth of, 18–19, 45, 144 discipline of, 252 doctor visits by, 172, 207 first birthday of, 255–58 first steps by, 239–40, 250–51 formative years, 149, 150 Dietrich, Susan Christine, 45 Dietrich twins birthdays of, 124 college studies by, 8–9 debated issues of, 10–11, 279 divergent paths of, 2, 45 family life of, 6–7 furlough visits by, 142 high school experiences of, 7–8 music appreciated by, 6 parallels between, 1, 63, 149, 278 postwar era regarding, 44–45, 265, 275, 295 psychological dependency of, 7, 9 Dietrich, Warren, 145

377

Discharge, 28–29, 210, 243, 264, 265, 274. See also demobilization discrimination Japanese, 95 of Japanese-Americans, 285, 286 of Negroes, 285, 286 Rustin’s challenge of, 13 Displaced Persons program, 41 Dobroski, Ed correspondence from, 103–4 draft questionnaire of, 52 Philippine assignment of, 230–31, 243–44, 253–54 point system opposed by, 28 Donaldson, Agnes, 110–11 draft board advisement by, 10 deferment by, 51–52 I-A classification of, 33–34, 36, 74 IV-E classification of, 33–34, 36, 60, 73, 105–6, 115 personal interview with, 71 draft questionnaire. See Selective Service questionnaire Drew, Reverend Robert E., 37, 114 Drexel Hill, Pennsylvania, correspondence from, 302–4 Dunkirk, France, 208 Dyck, Walter, 110–11 Dykstra, Clarence, 30 Easter, 68 Ediger, Elmer, 301 Eighth Fighter Control Squadron, 21, 22, 187, 248 Eley, Winnie, 68 Elizabethan ideal, 56 England, labour party victories in, 27, 206 Enlisted Men’s Club, 26 Ensign Peak, 153 Europe GIs in, 243 left trends in, 196 evolution, psychological, 97 Ezell, Ruth, 67 Family Welfare Bureau, 9 Far East Air Forces (FEAF), 238, 242–43

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378

Index

fascism, evils of, 9 Father Flanagan’s Boys Town, 67 FBI. See Federal Bureau of Investigation FEAF. See Far East Air Forces Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) re-classification investigation by, 74, 81, 82–85, 115 Selective Service files gathered by, 37, 115 Fellows, Frank, 305 Fellowship (magazine), 12, 99 Fellowship Forum, 38 Fellowship of Reconciliation (FOR) Albert’s participation in, 53 appeal by, 274 discrimination addressed by, 285, 286 literature by, 12 mass appeal of, 286 motivations behind, 284–85 Peace Session of, 63 projects by, 285 war repudiated by, 11 Fessler, Russell, 281 Fifth Air Force, 21 Filipinos aborigine, 179 cleanliness of, 170, 175 culinary skills of, 190–91, 193–94 customs of, 23, 186, 254 domestic life of, 181–82 Frank’s interactions with, 23 Japanese relationship with, 213 languages of, 23, 176, 179, 180 morals of, 168–69, 186 optimism of, 21, 197 physical characteristics of, 170, 175, 187 Finschhafen, New Guinea, 165–66 FOR. See Fellowship of Reconciliation foreign relief, 131, 134, 147 Form 47 Albert’s request for, 33 filing deadline for, 70 Fort Crook, Omaha, 119 Fort McKinley, Philippines camp life in, 241, 261–62 correspondence from, 225–33, 234–39, 240–51, 252–56, 258–67 final days at, 267–68

location of, 238 payday at, 264, 276 social/cultural activities at, 243–44, 247, 254–55, 263 transmitter duty at, 241, 245–46, 261 Fort Meade, Maryland, 77–78 Fort Wingate & Defense mining area, 51 48th Academic Squadron, 16 foster homes, 50–51 Francel, Ed, 110 France, necessities needed by, 148 Frank A. Dietrich Grocery, 5 fundamentalists, 140 Gallup, New Mexico correspondence from, 62–64, 68–70, 71–73, 76 employment in, 10 Gandhi, Mohandas, 12 Gardner, Lucia, 191 gasoline shortages, 117 Germany atrocities by, 232 defeating of, 157 ideal degeneration in, 56 occupation of, 204–5 people of, 92 prisoners of war from, 195 G.I. Bill of Rights, 265 GIs alcohol consumption by, 189, 192 casual squadron of, 157 crudity of, 80 death urge in, 104–5 demobilization of, 3 in Europe, 243 morale of, 24–25 noncombatant roles of, 2 overseas experience of, 231–32 social portraits of, 2 torture by, 233 The Gist: A Peace Digest (magazine), 138 Glacier National Park, 149 Glasier, Chuck, 170 God, 296–97 Goertz, Emmylu, 61 Goldman, Archie, 72 Goldman, Susie, 50, 299–300

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Index

Good Night Sweet Prince: The Life and Times of John Barrymore (Fowler), 180 Grahl, Charles H., 106 Grand Canyon, correspondence from, 70 Great Depression Dietrich Grocery during, 5 employment during, 8 indigents fed during, 92 Guadalcanal, 165 Hacienda, 235 Hague, Frank, 90 Hamlet (Shakespeare), 163–64 Heart of Darkness (Conrad), 195 Helmsdorfer, Don, 110–11 Herrenvolk theory. See “master race” theory Hershey, General Lewis B. appeal requested to, 1, 106–8 appointment of, 30 CO status granted by, 37 presidential reviews by, 36–37 Hill City, South Dakota. See also CPS camp #57 correspondence from, 124–30, 133–37, 139–41 CPS camp in, 38–40, 124–30, 135, 136, 137, 139–40, 141 Deerfield Dam Project in, 37–38, 135 political division at, 139–40 Hiroshima, Japan, atomic bomb dropped in, 22, 214 Hitler, Adolf, 9, 56, 91–92, 246 Hitler ideology, 56 Hollywood, hate movies from, 104 Holy Ghost Canyon, 70 hookworm, prevention of, 41–42, 271 Hoover, Herbert, 49 Hudson, Dorothy, 110–11 Hutterite colony, 253 I-A classification, 33–34, 36, 74. See also GIs ideals, degeneration of, 55, 56 ideology Hitler, 56 mass-production of, 56

379

I&E. See Information and Education Sections Iggebretson, Miriam, 110–11 individual personality, pacifists value of, 58, 59 induction orders for, 109, 112–13 physical examination for, 119, 120 postponement of, 113–14 inflation, 175 Information and Education Sections (I&E), 24–25 International Military Tribunal, 27–28 International Peace Commission, 114 Intramuros, 20–21 The Invisible Man (Wells), 162 Iowa Selective Service Board of Appeal Albert appeals to, 33–35, 73–74 CO status denied by, 107 Italy, necessities needed by, 148 IV-E classification. See also conscientious objectors appeal for, 33–34, 36, 73 denial of, 105–6, 115 Iwabachi, Admiral Sanji, 20 Japan atomic bombs in, 22, 214, 215, 221 currency of, 188 Emperor of, 221 military of, 197 “national day of humiliation” in, 95 occupation army in, 223 occupation forces from, 212–13 occupation policies of, 23–24 Philippines invaded by, 20–21, 168 Potsdam acceptance by, 223 Russia declares war on, 218 surrender of, 22, 206, 214, 220–22, 223–24, 225–26 Truman’s handling of, 218 Japanese democracy for, 59 Filipinos relationship with, 213 prisoners of war, 192 U.S. discrimination against, 95 Japanese-Americans, discrimination of, 285, 286

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380

Index

Japanese Cabinet, resignation of, 155 Jim Crow. See also discrimination; racial segregation Albert’s disregard for, 42–43 Rustin’s beliefs on, 12–13, 43, 99 Julius Caesar (Shakespeare), 162 Justice Department, 35 Kearns, Utah correspondence from, 153–59 service club in, 159 training at, 154, 155 Kennett, Lee, 14, 15 kinetic electric treatments, 52–53 King Lear (Shakespeare), 166 Kirschner, Don, 110–11 Kit Carson’s Cave, 69 KP duty (Kitchen Police), 161–62, 182, 281–82 Kreider, Robert, 32 labor shortage, 211 La Crosse Concert Association, 131 Langley High School, 7–8 Latter Day Saints. See Mormon Church Laughing Boy (La Farge), 100 League of Nations, U.S. participation in, 104 Leonard, Rowland, 299–300 liberals, 140 liberated countries, 148 life, sacredness of, 104–5 Ligget, Bill, 78 Lincoln, Nebraska, 35, 102 Lindeman, Edward, 58–59 Los Angeles, California, correspondence from, 71 Lowenberg, Rick, 33, 39, 44, 302–5 Lurline, S.S., 19–20, 241 Luzon, Philippines campaign in, 255 correspondence from, 179–94, 195–96 radio repair in, 22 MacArthur, General Douglas, 20, 27–28 Macbeth (Shakespeare), 166 Madison, Wisconsin correspondence from, 137–39, 146–47, 150

deployment from, 150 housing in, 146, 147 train travel from, 151–52 transfer to, 134 Truax Field in, 18 Magee, John, 125, 127 malaria, 259 Maltz, Herbert, 79 Mamula, Rudy, 84, 102 man animal nature displayed in, 91, 93 intelligence of, 91 materialistic advances of, 92 Mango Grove Cafe, 202 Manila, Philippines barhopping in, 26, 234–35 devastation of, 20–21, 171, 194 modernism of, 171 San Sebastian Cathedral in, 235–36 University of Manila in, 226 University of Philippines in, 226 Yamashita’s trail in, 28 Manila Symphony Orchestra, 226, 227–28, 229–30, 231 Mann, Thomas, 210 marriage, wartime, 3, 18, 82, 87 Martin, Tom, 272 “master race” theory, 93 MCC. See Mennonite Central Committee McDermitt, Bill, 290–91 medical leave, 283–84 Mennonite Central Committee (MCC) CPS camps administered by, 38 Foreign Relief Training Unit of, 134, 147, 148–49 overseas jobs by, 294 schools sponsored by, 32 Mennonites Albert influenced by, 31 Church of, 114, 115 CPS service by, 32 CPS supported by, 29 Hill City camp populated by, 39 Penners, family of, 9–10, 75, 110 theology of, 31–32, 39 Merit System, 291 Metz, Friedrich Albert’s pen pal, 8–9

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Index

correspondence from, 29 postwar experiences with, 45 Mexicans, 211 Meyer, Noni, 199 military machine, 102 Miller, Mary, 45 Minneapolis Symphony Orchestra, 131 Mission to Moscow (Davies), 246 Moby Dick (Melville), 25–26 Mocher, Alma, 78 Modern Age, life in, 97–98 modern world, degeneration of, 56 morals of Filipinos, 168–69, 186 of primitive cultures, 186 sexual, 168–69 United States, 95–96, 98 wartime, 186 Mormon Church, 156 Mormon doctrines, criticism of, 156 Mormon Tabernacle broadcast, 153 Mount Harney, 127 Mulberry, Florida correspondence from, 271–73, 283–87, 288–300 CPS camp in, 32, 41–44, 46, 271 social/cultural activities in, 289 Mullins, Bobbye, 70 Mussolini, Benito, 132 Mutz, Sterling F., appeal hearing by, 35, 94–96, 102 My Life with the Eskimos (Steffansson), 181–82 Nagasaki, Japan, 22 “national day of humiliation,” 95 National Service Board for Religious Objectors (NSBRO), xiii The Nature of the World and Man (Newman), 194 Navajos culture of, 100–101 defeat of, 93, 98 dining with, 72–73 Nazis atrocities by, 27 cause, 55 destruction by, 101

381

prison camps of, 204–5 Nebraska Association of Government Employees, 81 Nebraska State Child Welfare Division, 288 Negroes CORE’s support of, 285 rights of, 99 New Caledonia, 104 New Deal program, 27, 49 New Hebrides, 104 New Mexican Merit Council, 80 New Mexico, atomic testing in, 239 New Mexico Department of Welfare, 29 New Yorker (magazine), 259 Niemöller, Martin, 199–200 Non-Aggression Pact, 155 nonviolence, 12–13. See also pacifism “Non-Violence vs. Jim Crow,” 12–13, 99 NSBRO. See National Service Board for Religious Objectors Obey, Edward, 83 Of Human Bondage, 269 Okinawa, 197 Olena, Arnold T., 113 Outward Bound, 164 Overseas Replacement Depot, 150 overseas voyage correspondence during, 161–67 daily routines on, 161–63, 167 first land sighted during, 165 glee club formation on, 167 KP duty during, 161–62 mail call highlight on, 162 weather during, 163 pacifism Albert’s beliefs regarding, 10, 36, 58 fundamentalist’s understanding of, 140 working model of, 66 Pacifist Research Bureau, 286 pacifists ideals of, 58 organizations of, 11–12, 53, 63, 274, 284–86 religious, 30, 31 way of life for, 66

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382

Index

Pampango, 23, 179, 180 “peace’’ bonds, 65 peace churches CPS administrated by, 30, 31 CPS created by, 29 government pact with, 29–30 peace, negotiated, 90 peacetime conscription bill, 27, 201 Pearl Harbor, 10–11, 14, 66 Pearl of the Orient. See Manila, Philippines Pearson, Drew, 153 Pendergast, Thomas, 158–59 The Penners, 9–10, 75, 110 Pennsylvania, colonization of, 66 Pennsylvania Department of Public Assistance, 9 Penn, William, 66 Philippine Institute, 26 Philippines Angeles City, 22, 222, 225–26, 229 architecture, 177–78, 181, 277–78 Centron, 254 children in, 175, 176–77 Clark Field, 22, 242, 281–82 company grounds in, 169–70, 174, 202 Dobroski assigned to, 230–31, 243–44, 253–54 Fort McKinley, 238, 241, 243–44, 245–46, 247, 254–55, 261–63, 264, 267–68, 276 Japanese invasion of, 20–21, 168 landscape of, 174, 244, 249 liberation of, 20–21 Luzon, 22, 191–92, 255 Manila, 20–21, 26, 28, 171, 194, 226, 234–35, 235–36 natives of, 168 poverty throughout, 175 prostitution in, 186–87 Red Cross facilities in, 25, 177–78 Tarlac, 22, 250 weather endured in, 24, 168, 169, 188 Pikes Peak, 306 Pine Bluff, Arkansas, 172 Pitt (magazine), 128–29 Pittsburg, California, Camp Stoneman in, 241 Pittsburgh Music Institute Orchestra, 10

Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania correspondence from, 51–52, 55–57 Pennsylvania Department of Public Assistance in, 9 twins born in, 4 POE. See Port of Embarkation Poetica Erotica: A Collection of Rare and Curious Amatory Verse (Smith), 203 point system, 28–29, 210, 243, 264, 265, 274 Polish slave laborers, 217 political objectors, 31. See also resistant COs politics, world, 93, 97–98 Polk County Health Department, 41 Pompanga province, 243 pom-pom (prostitute), 186 Popcorn Growers and Distributors Company, 40, 143 Port of Embarkation (POE), 241 Potsdam Conference mandate Frank’s endorsement of, 26 Japan’s acceptance of, 223 tribunal established under, 27–28 Poughkeepsie, New York, 148 poverty, 175 prayer, 297–98 Presbyterian, 4–5 presidential appeal, 36, 96, 105–6, 108 primitive cultures, 186 The Princess and the Bellboy, 263 prison, COs faced with, 30–31, 109, 110, 173 prisoners of war American-held, 173 German, 195 Japanese, 192 propaganda, 104, 195 The Prophet (Gibran), 129 prostitution, 186 Psychiatry, 53 Pueblo, Colorado, 305–6 Pueblo Colorado Symphony Orchestra, 45 Pueblo Indians, 93, 98 Quakers, 66 “Race Criminals,” 292 racial segregation, 13

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Index

racism cultural, 5–6 Negro, 43 radio communications AAF’s dependence on, 14–16, 245 demands for, 15 fighter planes, 16 in Philippines, 191–92, 241, 245–46 training for, 15–16, 78, 133 radio operators and mechanics (ROM), 16–17 raisin wine, 181 Rantoul, Illinois, Air Corps Technical School in, 15 Red Cross. See American Red Cross “Reflections of a Social Worker,” 138 refugees, European, 92 Replacement Camp, 264 Republican National Convention broadcasts, 48–49 Republicans in Bangor, Maine, 305 liberalization of, 48–49 Reserve Officers Training Corps (ROTC), 8, 35, 36, 60–61 resistant COs, 30, 31, 33 Rinner, Jim, 136 Roe, Arkansas, 151 ROM. See radio operators and mechanics Romeo and Juliet (Shakespeare), 162 Roosevelt, Franklin D. contributions by, 196 death of, 158–59 foreign policy of, 49 Root, Robert, 36, 106 Rosenblatt, Milton, 72 Roswell, New Mexico correspondence from, 305–6 New Mexico Department of Welfare in, 29 ROTC. See Reserve Officers Training Corps Rothweiler, Jack, 8, 71, 216 Royal Scandal, 178 Rushmore Memorial, 129 Rushmore Reflector (newspaper), 38, 138 Russia

383

atomic energy access by, 218 Non-Aggression Pact renewal by, 155, 218 war declaration by, 218 Rustin, Bayard, 12, 43, 99 San Francisco, California, correspondence from, 160 San Sebastian Cathedral, 235–36 satyagraha (nonviolence), 12 Schmucker, Samuel, 7 Schwendiman, Bobby, 183 Scopes Trial, 7 Scott Field, 152 secular objectors, 13 Selective Service Act of 1917, 13 Selective Service questionnaire, 10, 33, 51, 60 Selective Service System conscription program administered by, 13 General Hershey heads, 30 personnel files of, 37, 115 Selective Training and Service Act of 1940 extension of, 298–99 provisions of, 13, 60 violation of, 109 Shridharani, Krishnalal, 12 Since You Went Away, 251 Sioux City Civic Chorus, 10, 48 Sioux City, Iowa Art Center in, 47 correspondence from, 47–49 draft board in, 35 Family Welfare Bureau in, 9 Sioux Falls Field, South Dakota AAF Technical School in, 15–16 army life at, 80, 86–87 Christmas spent in, 87, 127–28 correspondence from, 79–80, 86–88 smoke jumpers, 114 Smudzinski, Chester, 78 socialization, trends towards, 219 social pressure, 61, 100–101 social psychology, 141–42 Social Sciences, 253, 300 social work international, 131 lectures on, 51 master degrees in, 9

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384

Index

social work (cont.) twins postwar careers in, 44–45 war antithesis to, 75 war effort and, 61 Social Worker’s Club, 47–48 Society for the Promotion of Engineering Education, 128–29 Society of Friends, 286 Soho Community House, 299–300 The Soil Conservation Project, 142, 147 A Song to Remember, 203 Son of Lassie, 204 Spanish-American-Cuban-Filipino War, 20 spear fishing, 184–85, 193 Special Services, 24–25 Starnes Amendment, 32 St. Louis, Missouri, correspondence from, 151–52 Strange Fruit (Smith), 222 Streicher, Julius, 27 students, teacher relationships to, 102 survival aquatics, 154 Sustineo Alas Army Air Forces Technical School, 17, 130 taboos, in Philippines, 22, 186 Tagalog, 23, 180 Talmadge, Eugene, 90 Tarlac, Philippines, V-J Day parade in, 22, 250 teachers, student relationships to, 102 Tennessee Valley Authority (TVA), 286 That’s the Spirit, 217 Theborn, Blanche, 294 This Above All (Knight), 10, 87–88 This Simian World (Day), 276 Thomsen, Andy N., 65 Time (magazine), 237, 259 tire rationing, 117 tolerance, 121 Tomah, Wisconsin AAF Technical School in, 16 Christmas in, 122–23 correspondence from, 90–93, 99–101, 103–5, 111–13, 116–19, 120–23 housing in, 117–18 teaching position at, 99–100 Trimble, Lester, 72

Truax Field, 18 Truman, Harry COs discharged by, 284, 287 Japan’s handling by, 218 visions of, 158–59, 215 Tschetter, Paul, 39 TVA. See Tennessee Valley Authority 20-30 Club, 14, 62 twins. See Dietrich twins United Nations, 101 atomic restraint by, 236–37 control by, 101 domination of, 148 United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration (UNRRA), 41, 171, 194, 226 United States. See also America battles lost by, 129 degeneration of ideals in, 56 democracy in, 96 League of Nations participation by, 104 moral responsibility of, 95–96, 98 United States Protectorate, 182 University of Maine, 302 University of Manila, 226 University of Munich, 8 University of Nebraska, 53 University of Philippines, 226, 245 University of Pittsburgh, Graduate School of Social Work at, 8, 9 University of Wisconsin, 137 UNRRA. See United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration U.S. Army Post Office (APO), 159, 162 U.S. Federal Housing Administration, 117 U.S. Military branches of, 14 peace time training within, 201 service in, 2 U.S. Navy, Citizens’ Enrollment Committee of, 63, 68 U.S.O., 102 Vagkalianwan, Pacifico, 170 Valley of Decision, 222 values, degeneration of, 55, 56 Vandemour, Neil C., 75

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Index

Vanguard (newspaper), 40, 41 V-E Day arrival of, 174 Frank’s feelings on, 197–98 Germany’s surrender on, 157 WWII’s impact after, 3 Veteran Administration, 288–89 Veterans of Foreign Wars (VFW), 290 VHF (Very High Frequency) communications chief, 23 Victory (Conrad), 174, 194 V-J Day celebration for, 22, 250 WWII’s impact after, 3 Voth, Stanley, 38 Wainwright, Lt. General Jonathan, 20 Wallace, Henry A., 158 Wall Lake, Iowa correspondence from, 143–44 Popcorn Growers and Distributors Company of, 143 war Albert’s beliefs on, 60–61, 95 demands of, 129, 209 inflation during, 175 morality during, 186 prisoners of, 173, 192, 195 Russia’s declaration of, 218 social pressures during, 61 social work antithesis to, 75 Spanish-American-Cuban-Filipino, 20 Ward Boyd Home, 4, 5 War Housing Projects, 117–18 Warm Springs, Georgia, 158–59 War Relocation Authority (WRA), 286 War Resisters League (WRL) competency of, 286 literature by, 12 war repudiated by, 11 war-weariness psychosis, 209 water buffalo, 174 Weal, Bud, 178, 216 Weibe, Edgar, 110–11 Weinheim, Germany, 8 Wesley Foundation, 114 White Corpuscles in Europe (Hunter), 10, 76

385

White, Wallace H., 305 Wild is the River (Bromfield), 250 Wilmeth, Virgil, 87 Withers, Willie, 222 Without Love, 159–60 Women’s Missionary Society, 4 world unity dictated, 92 safeguarding of, 92–93 tools for, 97 World War I absolutist COs of, 30 mistakes made during, 195 World War II aftermath of, 90, 196 black markets during, 175 COs of, 13, 29–31, 33, 41, 46, 60, 70, 75, 81–82, 91, 109, 110, 259, 288–89 Dietrich twin’s positioning on, 2 disorganization caused by, 66–67 end of, 22, 153, 157, 174, 197–98, 220–21, 223–24, 225–26, 250 FOR’s rejection of, 11 GIs of, 45–46 global scale of, 15 impact of, 3 life after, 44–45, 265, 275, 295 monetary cost of, 58–59 Philippines importance during, 20 publications concerning, 3–4 WRA. See War Relocation Authority Wright, Frank Lloyd, 99 WRL. See War Resisters League Yamashita, General Tomoyuki Philippines occupation by, 20 sentencing of, 277 tribunal trial of, 27–28, 268–69 YMCA, 8, 152 You Came Along, 251 Young, Brigham, 153 Young People’s Socialist League, 8, 35 Zachary, Bruno, 84 Zell, Dr. Lawrence M., 41 Zipper, Herbert, 229 Zmudzinski, Chester, 87

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