The WWII Chain Letter Gang
My father and I were remarkably close. I could never let go of him when he passed. To this day, dad is just about in my every thought. I have many dreams about him. And, hey, I’m not forgetting my mother by any means. This book is about my father and that’s why I’m starting from here. When mom passed a few years after dad, my brother and I had that familiar task of tearing apart their home – the one that dad helped build with his own two hands. It hurt even more.
When my brother and I got to the attic, one that wasn’t too bad because he kept everything pretty well organized, we found a couple of boxes – oh, about five. In the first few were paraphernalia from the 1930s Athletic Club that he help found and had incorporated in the State of New Jersey. They called themselves the Wolverines. There were newspaper clippings, photographs, and minute books of all their meetings in the basement of my grandmother’s home on Atkins Avenue in Neptune, New Jersey. My brother Joseph and I knew about the team. It was these records that took our breath away.
What astonished me even more were the other boxes – yes, the other boxes. Because in those boxes were letters. Looking closely at them, I noticed they were dated later than the Wolverine artifacts. Whatever dates I could find showed dates of 1942 and after. They were in two big boxes. I took the letters and set them aside to read later. When I did, I noticed there were more letters than envelopes – actually, practically no envelopes at all. The letters were just grouped together.
So, back home I placed the letters in calendrical order and began reading them. Startled, I discovered they were from my dad, his brother, cousins, and friends to each other. I also noticed the letters were written while the men were within the military and written to each other. The only one written home was to my dad when it came time for him to receive the last letter. Reading carefully, because dad was exempt due to Joe’s birth, the men designated him as the end receiver of the letters, and any letter written to him was to receive all their letters. And here they were in my hands.
Staring at them, I counted. There were 45 of them. They began on D-day and ended at Okinawa. I placed the letters in an album and read them over and over again. I wrote a few notes about them and ruminated about them. Deeply. I even wrote a letter to four of the men who were still living at the time because I had a couple of questions to ask. Only one answered, but not the especially important question. He told me it was something I wasn’t to know.
I went back home to Wisconsin, where I was living with my husband at the time, and not long after that we moved to Arizona. I continued to read these letters. You see, I knew all these men. One was my uncle, the others dad’s cousins, and friends. My father was close to all of them and would take my brother and I to visit all of them. I continued to read these letters repeatedly. I laughed and I cried visualizing their faces as I read their words. Then, one day, there might as well have been that proverbial lightbulb go off on top of my head because, due to the dates on the letters, I realized I had World War II in order in my hands.
There, near Phoenix, on weekends I was selling my quilted items at long weekend art shows. One author would always be selling his books at a booth next to us and I presented the album to him and asked him if I had a book to write about these letters. He took one look at them and told me, Yes, any publisher would grab it because he didn’t know one book on the market where men in the military wrote to each other about the war while serving and not home. He said I should go for it.
I spent the next eight or nine years researching and writing my down idea for this book. The next thing I knew I had a finished draft. It was over 600 pages. Never having written a book before in my life, it was back on the internet for the next move. Oh, no! I had to get permission to use the photographs from the internet, as well as the articles. The ones the men sent, and my family gave me, plus my own were free sailing, as it were. But the ones borrowed? Nope. I needed permission. But of course, I said to myself, thumbing my head. Here I was a patent court reporter for many years and should have realized it.
It took me no less than six months to prepare and mail copyright permission letters with envelope and letter signature responses and also digital requests. I received a response as late as two years afterwards, even though I always gave a cut-off date.
Now what? Well, I was good as a proofreader from years as a court reporter, but it was strongly advised to have a professional editor proof my manuscript. So, I searched and learned all about that. I chose a developmental editor, one that would help me cut down the number of pages. And he did. He cut out many articles and photographs – those for which I even had copyright permission granted. He cut down the scanned letters I had at the beginning of each of the 45 chapters, one for each letter, and left a portion of it, that which only dealt with the manner of the letter writing by the men, because at the end of the book I included a typed copy of each of the letters for clarity. Sometimes it was difficult reading the handwriting of the letters.
This had to be done also because the manuscript was so large it couldn’t be emailed. The editor didn’t have a way to receive a large file and making it smaller didn’t help either. So, I had to break up the large book into subfiles. Later, after he edited the book, I stitched it back together. That was okay except the pagination was really destroyed. I can’t even explain what happened when the sections were made. It would take a Microsoft engineer to help. I sure hope a publisher can number the pages for me. Sound simple? Not.
But all back together now, bibliography finished – another few months (whoever thought about that when I first wrote the book! – list of illustrations made, bio completed, I am receiving, fortunately for me, a couple of endorsements. Not having written before, I hope it helps. Plus, I am now working on this author’s webpage. Please spread the word for me. It has been an exceedingly long haul. My father has been watching, I know. I’m feeling really tired, and these endorsements have given me a big lift and reason to keep going. Soon I will be searching for a publisher. My fingers are crossed. Wish me luck.