The First Letter Home

I took a week off from the blog.  I spent some time with family celebrating the life of my dear Auntie Wilma who passed away last month.  Her memorial service was on 5 May, what wold have been the 71st anniversary of her marriage to my Uncle Warren.  

A few years ago when I visited Wilma, she pulled a bag of letters Warren had written to his parents, my grandparents, during his service in the Navy in WWII.  I organized the letters i chronological order in a binder.  I believe the letter below is the first one he wrote home, telling his mother, father and his youngest sister, Babe, what his first full day in the navy was like.

July 8, 1942

Dear Mom, Dad, Babe

Russ and I are both well and enjoying ourselves her at the San Diego Naval Base.  I hope this letter finds you all well.  I guess you would be interested in what has taken place the last couple of days so I’ll try to let you in on it.

After Dad left the Federal Building we stood around until about 12:00 N. and then we got a 39¢ meal ticket for lunch.  We were back at 1:00 P.M. and off again about 4:30 P.M. until 6:00 P.M.  During this time we had dinner with Jeanne and Nat who were waiting for us when we came out at 4:30.  The took some pictures of us.

About 7:00 P.M. we left the Federal Building on Santa Fe buses and went to Oakland where we boarded the Santa Fe train.  We left about 8:00 P.M.  We didn’t get much sleep last night on that darn train.  It was bucking and rocking and pitching all night.  I dressed about 5:00 A.M. this morning hand we had breakfast in Bakersfield about 6:00 A.M.  After breakfast we left by bus and arrived in L.A. about 10:00 A.M.  I sent you and Ida and Jeanne and Nat cards from the Railway Station which by the way is a very beautiful building.  We had a good lunch there and left by Santa Fe and pulled into San Diego about 4:00 P.M.  We were then sent directly to the Naval Base where we were assigned to our bunds, had chow, and took showers.  The sun is about down now and they are just striking the flag.  We are supposed to hit the hay now, I think, there is a black out here every night.

Well, I think I’ll close now.  I can’t give you any return address now but I’ll write again in a few days and I think I can give it to you then.
                                                                                                Your loving son,
                                                                                                                Warren

P.S. Say hullo to Geo. And Rose for me.  Tell them I think I will like it here.  I’ll write them as soon as I get their address.[1]


I will follow up this post on Tuesday with a bit of strategy on analyzing the context of letters like this.  Stay tuned.

[1] - Letter from Warren Hardy Brown to Mary Jane, Ira, and Iris Brown, dated 8 July 1942.