1944
in Europe at Christmas Time
candy in the mail
In a letter dated 25 December, in what would have been 1944, my Dad wrote to my mom, his then girlfriend, from Luxemburg where his outfit was stationed at the time.
Dad wrote:
It was another Christmas today and we spent a rather quiet day. I guess you folks back home are realizing the war in not yet over and I hope we can come home soon.
I only received one package from you so far, a box of Fanny Farmer candy. We enjoyed it very much.
Although the wars seems to have taken a turn for the worst we are located in a fine town where the people talk French, German and English.
For dinner today we had a regular turkey dinner with all the trimmings just like home. But I felt lonesome for home and for you.
No surprise to folks who knew Dad that he got to writing about dinner and candy in the mail very early in his letter.
It should be noted that Dad was in the 12th Corps Headquarters Unit as the attached Dental Officer.
The 12th Corps was part of the United States Third Army under the command of one General George S. Patton, Jr.
Nine days before, on the 16th of December, American forces in Belgium had been overwhelmed by an unexpected attack by the German Army, an attack now remembered as The Battle of the Bulge.
During the attack, the United States 106th Division was surrounded and and two of the division’s three regiments surrendered on 19 December. The Germans gained 6,000 prisoners in one of the largest mass surrenders in American military history.
Patton famously managed to stop his Third Army, turn it 90 degrees and march north to attack, stop and then push back the Germans.
The 12th Corps was part of that pivot movement and so Dad ended up in Luxemburg where he attended Christmas Day services at the Cathedral and had a turkey dinner and shared a box of fannie farmer candy.
The odd thing about this is when Dad was in the States, he drove with several other Dentists that had just finished field training at Carlisle, Pa to Fort Andrew Jackson in Columbia, SC to be assigned to a unit.
When they got to their quarters at Fort Jackson, the guys Dad was traveling with couldn’t wait and ran off to get their assignments while Dad chose to unpack and hang up his uniforms.
By the time Dad got over to the office, they were at a loss at what to do with him as they had filled all the Dental positions they had open.
Almost as an afterthought, they sent Dad over the 12th Corps Headquarters Unit and told Dad that if he liked it there, he could stay as their Dental officer.
So Dad ended up as the only Dentist assigned to the HQ unit of Generals and Colonels who ran the 12th Corps.
Those guys who drove down from Carlisle with Dad?
They all got assigned to medical units in the 106th Division.
Christmas, 1944.
I have to wonder what Dad was thinking.
The decision to unpack his uniforms in February 1943 made a big difference in how he spent that holiday.
Probably made a big difference in my life as well.
Thoughts for Christmas and as the man said, be thankful for the small miracles … and be more thankful for the big ones!
PS: The collection of Dad’s over 200 letters home written during WW2 have been donated to the Bentley Library of Michigan History at the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor.
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