Breakfast club family album (1942)

Dear Mother : This evening many of my buddies who have never known anything else other than love and companionship of our fellow-man, died. They were swell fellows just like the neighbor’s son across the street; the kid behind the drug counter who always seems to wear a smile even though the hours are tough, and too, like all boys in these states of ours, true Americans to the man. Needless to say, they were murdered by rats. They did not have a chance. They will never see their homes, mothers, or the states they loved enough to lay down their lives for again. They wanted no war. They wanted no blood on their hands because they were Americans, and Americans have tried to abide peacefully by the laws of God since the birth of this nation. Yet hundreds of them died. Although, truly the deed is stunning and unbelievable, it is done. We are sure now of what was for a long time doubt¬ ful in our minds, the question of the possibility of an enemy dropping out of nowhere, striking and then van¬ ishing. We know that it could just as easily be our own homes, families and friends that would be the target. There was a time when we could fight our war from the pulpit. It’s more serious now. Our own lives are threatened to the extent that we must fight, or die, and life is too beautiful a thing to throw to a bunch of rats without a fight. We will fight! We will win! Because we fight not only under the greatest country’s colors in the world, but most of all, under God’s colors. Some will die, because the Almighty wills it that way, and we trust everything in God’s judgment. We are not afraid, Mother, because the thought of our loved ones back home suffering any of the pains of war erases all instincts of fear. The gallant men who have met death this day will not have died in vain. We go into this thing with a prayer on our lips; our heads are high, wits keen and eyes wide open. We, as men, don’t pretend to he able to understand the depth of a mother’s love, hut personally, I pray that you, Mother, will put all the feeling, love and consecration of your entire being into prayer, instead of useless worrying, fretting and tears. Although I’m not mentioning any names, I know some slant-eyed sons of Satan who had better get religion quick before those pearly gates slam in their faces. Keep your chin up, Mother, and remember you’re my best girl. ( Written to a Mother after Pearl Harbor) My dear, dear Son : War has been declared! Knowing your deep love for me your first reaction will be “What will Mother think?” so I shall tell you; Today my eyes are filled with tears for I am a woman, and women do not like war. BUT my heart is bursting with pride because I am the mother of a soldier who will fight to protect my country and home from an invading enemy. The war in Europe seemed so shadow-like and unreal, like an interesting hook whose chapters unfolded from day to day, hut now it has ceased to he fiction and is grim reality knocking with mailed fist at our door. The news has depressed your father and I am working overtime to be gay and cheerful to keep him from worrying too much about you. That will he woman’s part in the war, to be cheerful, for morale is as important as arms in this crisis. War is bad — terrible — hut somehow I have a feeling of relief that things have come to a head. For a long time, as you know, I have been troubled that your generation