LAURA'S WAR

The Box of Letters

I fell in love with Wayne when we were college students, and from the time we met I saved all the letters he wrote me. His letters, written from 1942 until his war ended in 1945, were packed away in their original envelopes in a carton along with my high school diary, the “to-do-before-I-die” list I wrote when I was eleven years old, dance programs from college and childish mementos.

Throughout the years and my many moves, most of the souvenirs of my girlhood were lost or thrown away, but I zealously kept the box of letters intact.

Tom Brokaw’s book The Greatest Generation, the outstanding television series The Band of Brothers, Steven Spielberg’s compelling movie Saving Private Ryan, and Sam Fuller’s The Big Red One whetted the curiosity of a sophisticated post-war population. My children and grandchildren began to ask questions. This great interest in the lives of my World War II generation heightened my desire to open and read again the contents of my treasured box of letters.

Reading them brought back bittersweet memories of my life during the war. My soldier faced a nightmarish existence while I faced a life of constant apprehension.

His letters throughout three years show the evolution of one citizen soldier becoming an effective leader during World War II. The letters begin when he was an ROTC student at the University of Illinois and continue through induction, officers’ training (OCS), training with a division in the States and finally, combat.

His first letters, right after he went away into the army, reflect the great adventure war was to many young men leaving home, some for the first time in their lives. But as the war raged on and on and the action became harsher and the young became old before their time, the tenor of Wayne’s letters changed. He had to endure having his very survival challenged for months on end.

I share all of Wayne’s letters, their significant historical content, and my story to offer a personal glimpse at the power of love in the time of war.