The Messenger

Boot camp is in its final days! Johnny eagerly anticipates his reunion with Mary.

Links:

1. Killer’s Kollege – sign at Fort Hood, Texas
2. Julia Compton Moore

Spotify songs:

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/02U2OAJJSiouQAEzmy4EqW?si=C6ut7UWXTxuzYn6iMIW_3g&pi=rSW-kgCWR1mMr

Please send comments and suggestions to dogtagspaperhearts@gmail.com

Spotify playlist:
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/02U2OAJJSiouQAEzmy4EqW?si=Jg8CANxwRVCD6smIny0C4Q&pi=dmQkyBg9Rrqiq

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:00

Families sometimes saw the messenger approaching and collapsed before the telegram was even handed over. Welcome to Dog Tags and Paper Hearts, a chronicle of my grandfather's letters home during his time in the service. I'm your host, Don Frieda, and in each episode we'll travel back to a time when swing bands ruled the airwaves, ration books shaped the dinner table, and handwritten letters carried love across oceans. Join me as we uncover the stories, sounds, and surprises of an era defined by courage, change, and a touch of romance. From the battlefront to the home front. On today's episode, Killer's College and Telegrams. So pull up a chair, kick back, and let's rewind the clock together. Because the 1940s weren't just about war and worry, they were about hope, humor, and heart. This is Dog Tags and Paper Hearts. A couple of news items from the front on the day this letter was written, January 22nd, 1945. The war presses onward through one of the coldest and most consequential winters in modern history. Across Europe and the Pacific, armies are on the move, civilians are on edge, and the world seems to hold its breath for what comes next. In the east, the thunder of the Soviet advance grows louder by the day. Reports from the European front tell of Red Army forces sweeping westward through Poland and into Germany itself. Soviet troops under Marshal Gregory Zhukov are advancing at a pace few thought possible. Entire German defensive lines are collapsing under the weight of tanks, artillery, and relentless manpower. German civilians flee west through snow covered roads in scenes of confusion and panic. Refugee columns stretch for miles and railway stations are overwhelmed. The war that Germany once carried across Europe has now arrived at Germany's own doorstep. And just behind the retreating German army lies another grim story, one the world has not yet fully seen. As Soviet forces close in on occupied Poland, German authorities are hurriedly evacuating concentration camps, forcing prisoners westward through the brutal winter cold. Thousands are being marched away from advancing Soviet troops in what survivors will later call the death marches. The true scale of the camps remains largely unknown to the outside world tonight, but history is moving steadily toward a terrible revelation. Meanwhile, in Western Europe, the Battle of the Bulge is finally beginning to lose its fury. American and Allied troops continue to squeeze the remaining German presence in Belgium and Luxembourg. Bitter cold still grips the Ardennes forest, but German forces are running short of fuel, ammunition, and hope. Military analysts increasingly believe Hitler's great winter offensive has failed. For American soldiers at the front, however, victory remains a distant and dangerous thing. The frozen ground is littered with wrecked vehicles, shattered trees, and the cost of weeks of desperate fighting. Across the globe and the Pacific, General Douglas MacArthur's forces continue their drive across the Philippines. American troops are pushing south on Luzon towards Manila, while Japanese defenders prepare for what promises to be a fierce struggle inside the capital city itself. Filipino resistance fighters are aiding American operations wherever they can, cutting supply lines, gathering intelligence, and guiding troops through difficult terrain. Over Germany, British and American aircraft continue to strike rail centers, oil depots, and factories in an effort to cripple what remains of Germany's ability to wage war. Reports indicate the German Air Force, once feared across Europe, is struggling to respond. Fuel shortages and mounting losses have left many Luftwaffe squadrons unable to effectively challenge the bombers overhead. Night after night, air raid sirens sound across German cities already scarred by years of war. Behind closed doors, another battle is quietly taking shape, the battle for the peace to come. Preparations are underway for a meeting between President Franklin Roosevelt, Prime Minister Winston Churchill, and Soviet leader Joseph Stalin. The conference, expected soon in the Black Sea Resort of Yalta, will help determine the future of Europe after the guns finally fall silent. What will become of Germany and what kind of world will emerge remain questions that have no answer at this time. Back home in America, daily life remains tied tightly to the war effort. War bond drives continue in cities and towns across the country. Ration books remain tucked into kitchen drawers, factories run day and night. Families gather around radios waiting for letters and hoping not to receive telegrams. And through it all, music still offers a moment of comfort. The voices of Bing Crosby, Joe Stafford, and Frank Sinatra drift from radios and living rooms, diners, train stations, and military barracks alike, small reminders of home in an anxious world. The war feels closer to its conclusion now than ever before, yet some of its darkest chapters are still ahead. Millions continue to fight, flee, wait, and hope beneath the shadow of history. And in other news, from Johnny's hometown newspaper on this date, this article. And as always, please forgive me for butchering these place names. Nazis declare emergency in Upper Silesia. Swedish dispatches said today that Germany, threatened with disaster by the Russian breakthrough in the east, has declared a state of emergency in jittery Upper Silesia and ordered women and boys to help build fortifications outside Berlin. The Berlin newspaper Deutsche Alemann Zeitung told its readers that Germany was in her greatest hour of peril. Reserves were being brought up to new defense lines, the newspaper said, but this naturally will take some time. Swedish newspaper accounts reported to the OWI said a state of emergency has been declared in Upper Silesia following unrest in Butin, Gluitz, and Radabor, and several other towns in the path of the Red Army advance. Sabotage at Boothin caused large fires, the Stockholm newspaper said. Numerous arrests were made, especially among the foreign workers, the newspaper said. The newspaper added that three Gestapo men were killed, but the center of the National German peace movement there was detected and wiped out. Another Stockholm newspaper said Berliners had been entrusted with the construction of a sixty-two mile stretch of fortifications from Frankfurt on the Oder to Oderburg, east and southeast of Berlin. And now the letter. January 22nd, 1945. My dearest Mary, hello, sweetheart. May I come in? I hope so, because I want to very much. Now don't be too angry with me for not writing, darling, because I just haven't been able to. Every minute out here is so full of work that it takes everything I've got just to keep up with the company. Last week was packed with maneuvers of every type. We walked enough mileage for me to have been more than halfway home by now. And I wish to God that I were. I'm so damn sick of this army and its way of life that I would gladly go AWOL regardless of the consequences. Possibly that sounds pretty much like the crying of a baby to you, Mary, but that is just the way me and 99% of the rest of us feel. Living hard is okay, but to live like animals is too much. We've been wallowing in mud so damn much that I feel like I'll never be clean again. I do know that it'll take a lot of hard scrubbing and cleaning to get me anywhere near presentable again. The only thing that has kept me going are the letters from you. When I read them, it's a little bit like being home. And home is what I need a lot of right now. To be with you and the children will be a tonic to me. It may be for only five days, but that short time will give me enough courage and strength to go on until I am through with this existence for good. I can't tell you half enough how much I want to be home with you. To hold you and feel you, just to be able to look at you and know that you are really mine forever. That is something that no one will ever be able to take away from me. I love you, darling. More than anything in the world do I love you. Please understand how I feel, sweetheart. I'll always be yours. Well, dear, maybe I can get out of that bad mood. After three days of hard rain, the sun has finally come out, hot and strong, and it looks like it might be a nice day after all. I only hope that it will stay out because Monday we go through Killer's College, and it is as tough as it sounds. So if the sun shines, it might dry up the landscape a little and make belly crawling a little cleaner and easier. More about KK. That will be the last week of actual training. Everything we've learned about combat and fighting will be brought to a head there. We will attack every emplacements under live fire. Any mistakes that are made can turn out to be very painful, and they don't issue purple hearts on this side of the ocean. But you needn't worry about your little Johnny. If I've learned anything about fighting, it's to keep your head and fanny down. They tell me that Mother Nature's issue of holes is sufficient for any man. I'm sure that any scars I'll bring back will not be from bullets. After we complete next week's training, we will have but one more week of our cycle. That will be spent in cleaning and turning in our equipment and preparing to leave for home. So I believe that I will be home in time to find you not discomforted because of the time of month. I can't say what the exact date will be, for no one knows, but I will send a telegram, collect, to let you know. I'll be taking a troop train part way. How far it will take me, I don't know, but I will have a full five days at home. I have no definite plans as to what I want to do on furlough, except that I want you and the children with me at all times. Nothing else matters as far as I'm concerned. I'll tell you this though, for my first meal at home I want the following items, if possible. Steak, browned potatoes, peas, sweet potatoes, candied, lima beans, a great big hunk of apple pie a la mode, lots and lots of coffee, and as a final touch, a great big piece of that love you've been saving up for me. That sounds like I'm putting my stomach ahead of you, doesn't it? But it ain't so, because I expect to get lots of lovin' before I even see a knife and fork. Does that make you feel better? Now, darling, I'll have to sign off. I've got to go on duty as battalion runner for the afternoon, and that will keep me pretty busy. No rest for the wicked, so I guess I must be one of the worst of the bunch. I'll write again as soon as I get another chance. Until then, bear with me, and don't be disappointed if you don't hear from me for another week. When I get home, I'll tell you all about camp life, and then you'll understand why my pencil isn't very active. So give my love and kisses to the children. Also boots, snafu for short, but keep the biggest share of it for yourself, and be ready to give me yours when I get home. I'll love you always, Johnny. A couple notes from today's letter. Killers College. Johnny drops the name Killer's College with no context, referring to it later in the letter as simply K K. The spelling, as you may have guessed, is K-I-L-L-E-R-S K-O-L-L-E-G-E. I did a little digging to figure this one out and was really unable to obtain any information, but what I did find is a postcard on eBay, which contains the image of a canopy sign on the Army base in Fort Hood, Texas. And that's where Johnny was stationed. If you can picture an arch over a roadway with the words Killer's College on it, you have the right idea. And if you can't picture that, I've provided a link in the show notes. Whether this structure was constructed by the Army, sanctioned, or simply allowed to exist while the brass turned a blind eye is up for debate. I do find it interesting that Johnny drops the name with no context whatsoever. Perhaps a future letter will expand on this a bit more. We'll just have to wait and see. Also in the letter, telegrams. You did not want to receive a military telegram during World War II. This gut-wrenching event was the moment every family feared because a telegram almost always meant that a loved one was missing, wounded, captured, or killed. The fear was so universal that the sight of a Western Union messenger walking up the street could stop entire neighborhoods cold. That dread came from the telegram's role as the military's fastest, most official means of delivering catastrophic news. During World War II, the U.S. military relied heavily on Western Union to notify next of kin of casualties, using standardized, chilling phrasing such as, I regret to inform you. These telegrams were short, impersonal, and brutally direct because they were constrained by word limits and wartime communication protocols. Families knew that no good news ever arrived by telegram. A knock at the door from a Western Union courier was enough to trigger panic before the envelope was even opened. Unlike today's in-person casualty teams, World War II telegrams were often delivered by civilian messengers. Families sometimes saw the messenger approaching and collapsed before the telegram was even handed over. What's worse, telegrams often provided minimal information, leaving families in agonizing uncertainty. And unlike modern casualty teams, there was no chaplain or officer present to help families process the news. The dread of the telegram became so culturally ingrained that after the Vietnam War, public outcry, led notably by Julia Compton Moore, forced the Army to abandon telegram notifications entirely in favor of in-person casualty teams. The World War II Telegram remains one of the most haunting artifacts of the home front, a small slip of paper that carried immeasurable weight. The top song in the U.S. on this date, January 22nd, 1945, remains Don't Fence Me In by Bing Crosby and the Andrews Sisters. Since I've shifted to counting down the 100 most popular songs of 1945, though, we arrive at number 95 on our list, Dick Hayms with the song Laura. Dick Haames was best known for his velvety baritone, understated phrasing, and deeply romantic style. Born in Buenos Aires in 1918, Haymes grew up between Europe and the United States before breaking into big band music in the late 1930s. He rose to fame singing with the orchestras of Harry James and Benny Goodman, eventually becoming one of the most successful crooners of the 1940s. He scored major hits with songs like You'll Never Know, Till the End of Time, and It Might As Well Be Spring. With a voice defined by extraordinary warmth and control, Haymes can be thought of as something of a stepping stone between the formal style of earlier crooners and the easy intimacy of Frank Sinatra. The song Laura began as the haunting instrumental theme for the 1944 film Laura, starring Gene Tierney. Composer David Raxon wrote the melody, after director Otto Preminger rejected an earlier musical idea. Lyricist Johnny Mercer later added words, transforming the theme into a full popular song. Dick Haymes recorded Laura in 1945 with the orchestra of Victor Young, and the recording became one of the notable chart versions of the song that year, reaching the Billboard charts during the spring of 1945. Laura is unlike some of the other wartime love ballad I've covered on this podcast. The opening string arrangement sets up a melody that drifts and circles rather than resolving cleanly, and this creates a very dreamlike atmosphere. The harmonies are sophisticated but somewhat uneasy, which helped make the tune a lasting jazz standard. The song feels less like a declaration of love and more like the memory of someone half real and half imagined. Haymes' interpretation leans fully into that atmosphere. Instead of dramatic emotional peaks, he sings with restraint. His phrasing is soft and conversational, almost as if he is thinking aloud rather than performing. That understated delivery makes the lyrics feel ghostly and intimate, as exemplified in the lyrics Laura is the face in the misty light. Rather than overpowering the melody, Haymes allows the orchestration to float around his voice. Victor Young's arrangement uses lush strings and subtle harmonic movement that create a sense of longing and distance. The effect is cinematic, appropriate for a song born from a film noir mystery. One of the most striking things about Haym's version is how modern it can sound emotionally. Many 1940s pop recordings project certainty and polish, but Laura feels fragile and unresolved. Haymes avoids sentimentality. Instead, he gives the impression of someone haunted by memory. That emotional ambiguity is part of why the song endured long after many wartime hits faded. Laura eventually became a major standard, recorded by artists ranging from Ella Fitzgerald to Frank Sinatra and Stan Kenton, but Haym's version remains one of the definitive vocal interpretations because of how naturally his voice fit the song's mysterious mood. Thank you for listening to Dog Tags and Paper Hearts. You can find links to information contained within this episode in the show notes. I've also provided a link to my Spotify playlist of number one songs during the course of this correspondence, and that playlist is also titled Dog Tags and Paper Hearts. Please keep the feedback coming by emailing me at dogtagspaperhearts at gmail.com. And most importantly, if you have a story from World War II, or if you're an expert on World War II and would like to share some information, possibly some that I've gotten wrong, please drop me a line and let's talk. Until next time.