6/3/2016 Update: It’s funny that I don’t even know if anyone is reading this, but just in case, I’m adding this little intro. I realized that I didn’t add my usual summary at the beginning of this post in any of my three versions of this site. The big news was that Ang finally flies his first mission on May 22; a 4 hour 45 minute mission to Ferrantino. He finally tells Betty about it in his May 30th letter, in his typical joking way. I find it interesting that I’ve read similar descriptions in many WWII histories. They all talk about the fear and then they talk about the Red Cross coffee and donuts — and the shot of alcohol, or “medicine” as Ang says.
I’m always struck by how awful it must have been for both of them to wonder when the mail would catch up and yet they continue writing letters. Ang writes on the 28th that he’s finally received letters from Betty - 11 of them. Meanwhile, back in Chicago, Betty seems to be on a whirlwind tour, visiting friends and relatives. It seems that everyone is in Chicago, even her mother, Margaret, who has arrived from California, and her sister Peg with son Donny. Sadly, all these people died before I realized I needed to figure out what was going on in May 1944 that brought them all back to Chicago?? Later, we’ll see that they took advantage of the situation by getting an amazing and treasured “Five Generation” photo.
Tuesday, May 22. Stopped after work and picked up coat. John and Bea over in evening. Bed about twelve.
May 23. Threatening all day - and rained about supper time. Had permanent - very curly. Home to Adams very late.
May 24. Rained. Met girls but broke so just had a coke. To Kays for diner and evening. Falls up and took us home.
FORM 5: C-22, Combat flight as bombardier, B25-J, 4:45h
[FROM ANG’S FLIGHT LOG. MISSION 1. These can also be see under the "Ang's Flight Log" tab.]
1 5-22-44 Ferentino Road Block.
Made two 360's over target because of clouds 9/10 coverage
1 box dropped--missed bridge. 1000 lbs bombs.
[V-Mail, postmark 6-1-44, sent to Chicago, forwarded to L.A.]
Sorry, I haven’t written the last couple of days—but I’ve really been busy. I wish I could tell you—oh well, never mind.
In our spare time we’ve been building ourselves an officers club—and that means more digging and more work. I’m telling you, I’m liable to wind up with three muscles—maybe even four.
Last night we went to an Officers dance. There were about six nurses and umpteen officers—need more be said?
So I went downtown and got in a crap game. I won three hundred dollars—lost it—won two hundred—lost it—and wound up three dollars ahead. All well, whats money—just paper over here—and that’s no joke.
I love you darling.
Form 5. C-24, Combat flight as bombardier, B25-J, 2:00h
(Crew/Mission lists that are available can be seen under the Official Documents tab.) [Crew sheet for May 24, 1944. ]
[FROM ANG’S FLIGHT LOG. MISSION 2.]
2 5-24 Orvieto Road Bridge.
One box dropped.
Flak heavy, scattered & inaccurate from airfield.
Missed bridge—hit power plant.
May 25. Warmer, but rained in PM and cooled things off. To Adams for diner - then to Grams. Did laundry and to bed at 11:30.
May 26. Very warm today. Adele and family & Uncle Paul in. K & family etc down for dinner. Sure glad to see them all. Bed by 11:30
[V-Mail, postmark 6-5-44, sent to Chicago, forwarded to L.A.]
I finally got three letters yesterday—oh happy day. Two from you and one from the folks—yours date 11 & 12th & right after you got to Chicago. Yes, it does seem like the old days again—getting mail from Chicago. I guess now that they’ve got my range[?]—I ought to be getting mail pretty regular.
I guess you’ve been reading about this theatre in the papers lately, eh what! Those Jerries are sure catching hell—and we’re giving them all we got! I sure would hate to be in their shoes—or foxholes right now. We sure feel happy about the boys on the beach head—and I’ll bet they are delirious.
Say, dear, If you haven’t sent those light bulbs—forget about them. If you have, its O.K.—someone can always use them.
I love you honey. Love, Ang
May 27. Cooler today. To Adams after work but to Gram’s for dinner. Out with Donny. Called Mel. Ha! to bed about eleven.
May 28. Lovely day. No one here for dinner. Up to Joe’s aunts—Mr. M. up & Mom out to dinner. I put Don to bed—and myself by 11:00.
FORM 5. C-28, Combat flight as bombardier, B25-J, 2:20h
[Crew sheet for May 28, 1944]
[FROM ANG’S FLIGHT LOG. MISSION 3.]
3. 5-28 Bucine R.R. Bridge.
Heavy, scant & inaccurate.
Shot at from Elba on course--
Got a razzing.
[V-Mail, postmark 6-7-44, sent to Chicago, forwarded to L.A.]
Well, its finally happened—I got eleven letters yesterday from you. Boy, it was like Christmas—yahoo!
They were all jumbled up though—that is different dates and not as you sent them. For instance, I know you have a job—and that you meet a lot of society dames—but I don’t know where you work and what you do—please tell me in one of your letters. Oh well, I suppose the ones in between will catch up someday.
Gee, I sure feel swell about getting those letters—It made me feel good.
I love you darling. Love Ang
May 29. Very warm. Mother, Kay & boys--E M & Jr to Adams for dinner. Reyniers and Pat out later. Bed about 1:00. Dead tired.
Betty, 2nd from right, with Kay on right and Betty's grandmother. Ang's father, Sam on left.
Form 5. T-29, Training flight as bombardier, B25-J, 1:00h
[Training flights not recorded in Ang's log book.]
[V-Mail, postmark 6-8-44, forwarded to L.A.]
Well, I’ve just gone thru all your letters—again! And now a few questions. Your job—what is it & where. On the tenth you said a notice from Fort Sam Houston told you my allotment had gone thru—on the 27th you said you hoped the allotment had gone thru. What gives? I guess that’s about all—you’re a good little information as a whole.
About the silk stockings—really honey, they weren’t worth sending. The weave was wide apart. When the clerk picked them up and put his hand in it and spread it slightly apart—it just sprung apart and there was a run a mile long. Those Brazilian made stockings are not the U.S.A. kind.
I love you darling. Love, Ang
May 30. Up about 11:00 and up to Grams - just loafed all day. Washed head, did some laundry & ironed. Back to Adams. Bathed and bed.
FORM 5. T-30, Training flight as navigator, B25-J, 2:30h
[Letter on air mail stationary, postmark 5-31-44, sent to Chicago, forwarded to L.A.]
I know, I know! Its about time that I got a nice long letter off to you. I’m sorry darling, but there really is nothing we do to make a long letter possible. Its absolutely the same routine, day after day. If we don’t have a mission for the day—All we can do is lay in bed until noon or maybe get a few letters off. Then after lunch, we sit around and shoot the bull or play poker until dinner. Then we play poker or maybe go to the open air theatre until bed time rolls around. So you see, theres not much there to fill a long letter.
The only thing that could be of interest to you is about our missions, and since we can’t tell you about them—well! That is I can’t give you the details about any missions—but I guess the censor won’t be too mad if I told you how I felt on my first mission. Here goes!
When I first got here—I didn’t exactly know what to expect. It sure wasn’t like what I did expect. Everything was just—well natural. The fellows were just a normal bunch of boys—and really swell to the newcomers. They helped us unload our luggage and helped us set up a tent—and gave us plenty of advice on how to dig a fox hole—ha, ha!
Of course we closely watched the old timers to see how they acted—so we could know how to act too—copy cats.
Well, we weren’t around very long before the newness and tenseness wore off . There was no excitement about the missions—no good lucks, thumbs up—nothing dramatic about them. It was just like going on a practice mission to Lake Murray in S.C.
Of course when the time came for my first mission—that little excited, choked up, feeling came again, and stayed for quite some time. However, it wasn’t quite like anything I expected. I guess those bull sessions and actions of the old boys is a form of group psychology—it sure helped. When we got out to the ship—none of the other boys acted like they knew it was my first mission—they acted just as if I had as many missions as they did.
On the way to the target I kept my eye on the lead ship and lead bombardier. Boy, if you’ve ever seen a shadow operate--I was that lead bombardier’s shadow. When he smoked, I smoked—when he put on his flack suit, I put on mine—when he put on his flack helmut I did the same. I copied his every movement—that is until the flack came up. It was very light (I found out later as I pulled my body out of the helmut), but for every time he ducked, I can proudly say I had him beat to frazzles. I was out of sight behind the plating before he even thought of it.
Well that kept me up for awhile until we went on the bomb run—and then you're so busy you forget everything else—and the next thing you know, you're back at your own field. Well, that's No. 1—and you are a veteran—ha, ha!
Well, dear, as they say—the first one is the toughest. After that, there is only one thought in our minds—and that’s to get those missions off and get back home. That’s all you hear around here—only 10 more to go—only 20 more to go etc—and I go home. They don’t count missions as one, two, three—its 49, 48, 47 etc to go.
And talking about that, they sure don’t waste any time in getting those missions off. Don’t be too surprised if I’m eating the Christmas turkey with you and the folks. “Home for Christmas” is my motto. Don’t expect it, but don’t be surprised—that’s all I’m saying.
I don’t know as yet if I’m to be a Bombardier or a Navigator or both—the old question again. However, if its ever decided—it will be right here, so that’s something.
Well, sweets, for one not having anything to write, I’ve done pretty well,
Give my love to everyone—especially to yourself.
Don’t worry about my poker—what I get out of my salary takes care of it for the month—there is nothing else to spend it on—everything is free.
Oh, I forgot to tell you, when get down from a mission the Red Cross is waiting with coffee and doughnuts—and are they good. And we also get a double shot of “medicine”. Maybe that’s why the boys are always fighting to go on a mission. That’s the only way to get it over here.
I love you—Love, Ang
P.S. Give a nice donation to the Red cross—I don’t know what we’d do without them.
May 31. Rained real hard in PM but still warm. Pat, Dee, Is, Marge & Peg to Adams. Had a real nice time. Bed late.
May 14 -21, 1944. "HOMES"
"A FAIR WIND AND THE HONEY LIGHTS OF HOME ARE ALL YOU SEEK."
Sometimes you’re just happy to have a place to call home. After re-learning how to dig a fox hole (see May 15 V-Mail) it probably makes you particularly happy, even if it’s a tent shared with a good friend. Sometimes it’s a “room of one’s own” where you feel like you belong. In May of 1944, neither Betty or Ang had great options. Living with her in-laws was probably pretty difficult for Betty, although she and Ang’s sister, Jen, got along quite well. I’m not sure there have ever been two sisters-in-law who loved each other more and could make each other laugh the way Jen and Betty could. Meanwhile, Ang devoted a page in his scrapbook to display his various “homes” on Corsica. His first room mate was Arne Bylund, of his “original crew.”
There are no flights recorded on his Form 5 so I believe he was mostly busy getting settled in with the other members of the 486th Bomb Squadron and working on setting up the tent with Arne. And training. There was always more training. He writes one more long letter about his visit in Africa with his friend, Bud. He mentions catching up on his letter writing, and he also mentions having a publicity photo taken. Here’s another early crossing of paths with his friend Tom Cahill. Ang doesn’t mention Tom, but Tom mentions Ang in a letter to his mother in July when he includes the publicity photo that Ang mentions to Betty! Sixty-plus years later, when I first began working on Honeylights, I searched for Cahills and eventually found Tom’s niece who had come into possession of Tom’s letters home!
Sunday May 14. To Mass, home & wrote letters. To Grams after dinner & downtown to movies. Home & bed by 10:30
May 15. Warm still. Really worked hard today. Cooled off in PM. met Jen and shopped. Washed hair and bed by 11:00.
[V-Mail. No envelope, but 5-24 noted at bottom, so it looks like Betty received it on 5-24.]
Well, Arne & I are finally all set up—tent etc. Its wonderful what a person can do with a few nails & some wood. Before we get thru—it will be just like home—or as close as we can get to it.
You may not know it, but your husband does have a few muscles. He can feel both of them aching like hell. I just finished digging a fox hole for myself. I’m not a professional yet—so it doesn’t look very pretty—but boy is it deep! I guess that’s what counts when you need it.
Arne has just finished building a closet for our clothes—real class. I guess that’s about it, sweets--
I love you.
May 16. Stormed during the night. Not too busy at office. To Grams for dinner and stayed all night.
May 17. Rained again last night. Very warm again—but turned cooler in P.M. To show downtown with Jen. Bed 11:30.
[V-Mail, postmark 5-27-44, no dateline, no date received]
Not much new today that I can talk about—more digging & more building. The tent really looks good & looks very comfortable. We just added a table to our collection (master carpenter Bylund)—all we need is a couple of easy chairs & we’re all fixed.
Say dear—if you could manage to pick up a small radio—please send it to me. The Germans put on a good program for us—the music is swell! Also, please send me about 3-4 electric light bulbs. Wrap them in a good sturdy box—maybe one of them will get here whole. We’ve got plenty of electricity—but no light bulbs—and I hate candles!
I guess that’s about all now darling.
I love you—Love, Ang
#1 Just a tent in the valley - very hot. So - - -.
#2 We built shack on hill. As a summer home it was wonderful - there was always a cool breeze. However, along came winter. The breeze was still there, but it became an icy blast, so - - -.
#3 We moved down in valley & built our home. We bought a radio - got air mattresses for our sacks - and even got a private generator for our electrical system.
May 18, 19, 20 blank [Betty’s diary]
[Letter, written with pencil on air mail stationary, postmark 5-19. Addressed to Chicago, and forwarded to 502 Westlake, Los Angeles. Note on envelope: “Recd 6-15”]
You’re about due for a nice long letter—so here goes. As usual I don’t know what to talk about—so I’ll talk about Bud and what we did while we were together.
As I’ve told you—he almost passed out when he first saw me—it sure was the last thing he ever expected (me too, for that matter). We stayed at their little villa that day and all of the next. The food and hospitality were wonderful. We just laid around and talked, and leisurely killed off about 6 bottle of vino (ugh).
Anyway, all good things must come to a pass, so we had to head back to camp that night. Bud picked me up the next day and I spent the day at his camp. He conducted me on a cooks tour of the place, and---well I’ve already described his camp to you. At night I sat up in the projection booth with him and saw him run off the movie—quite interesting.
The next night he had a date and with the usual Roehm ideas—he insisted that I come along. I don’t know how the girl felt about it—but I don’t feel that she had a kick coming because she brought her brother along. The usual Roehm situation. One girl—one brother—one buddy (that’s me) and Roehm in the middle trying to make a good impression. What a life—he never changes does he?
Anyway, it wasn’t as bad as it sounds. The girl was really very, very nice—that is for a French girl. She had studied English at school—and spoke it very well. When she made a mistake, Bud would correct her. That is, he did, until she started asking him questions about the past tense, passive verbs, etc—then he shut up—but fast! I asked her what “Ooh, la, la” meant. She thought it over very carefully, and said “I guess it means the same as the American “Get off my back.” Boy that floored me—these Frenchmen sure learn fast.
We went to the nicest place (and the only place) to eat in town. These Frenchmen may have trouble finding food to eat—but they always have vino. They load the table with vino for every course—and if you can find the food between the bottles, you’re pretty lucky. So, we ate—and then went to her house—sat around and listened to the radio while she and Bud danced. Then we went home.
Bud likes her quite a bit (“for a foreign girl”)—and I don’t blame him. She’s pert & pretty—talks well & has a sense of humor—in fact shes the closest to an American girl that can be found over here. That’s high praise--
Well, honey, that’s the full dope on Bud—I had to leave the day after and didn’t see him again. Maybe I’ll get over there again one of these days though—I hope!
I haven’t got anymore of your mail. Some of the boys coming from the last place said that I had a stack of it a mile high though—so one of these days it ought to catch up. I’m going to be a plenty busy, and happy man then.
Please excuse the pencil—but ink is pretty hard to get around here. I guess that’s about all I have now darling. I love you very, very much—Love, Ang
[V-Mail, 5-27-44 postmark]
I’m going to see if I can’t catch up on my letter writing today. I’ve just finished one to Bud—and now I’m tearing along on my second one. Yesterday I put out three—so I’m not doing so bad. Pat me on the back.
Yesterday they took some pictures of us for the home town papers—so maybe one of these months you’ll see your husbands face beaming out at you from one of the newspapers. Ah, this Air Corps—all this glamour & publicity!
We had chicken last night—and boy was it good. It sounds funny—me raving about chicken, but after all this “wholesome” Army food I’ve been eating—chicken is a real treat. However, don’t tell my mother, or she’ll pack a couple & send them on. Love, Ang
May 21. Up, & down to meet Mom. They were so tired. Ann and Bill over for a while. Sat up and talked half the night.
[See photo below. Henderson Women. Probably May 1944. Adele Henderson Hatch, Margaret Henderson Russell, Kay Henderson Affeldt, Anna Harrington Henderson (mother) and Ann Henderson Goodwin. At the time, of Anna's 12 children, there were also four living sons. Betty's mother, Margaret, visited from California. Ann, Margaret's youngest sister, was pregnant at the time. Ann & husband Bill visited Betty & Ang in Columbia in March 1944.]
[V-Mail, postmark 6-1-44, addressed to Chicago, forwarded to LA]
I know you’ll excuse me for not writing yesterday. I got ambitious and decided to get rid of my letter writing obligations. I wrote eight letters—imagine that! I don’t know whats come over me.
I still haven’t got any mail—and I’m slowly but surely working myself into a fury. Oh well, some day it will start coming in a steady stream and I’ll be happy again. I do wish it would hurry though.
I don’t feel much like writing today though—so I guess I’ll satisfy myself with this one. Its Sunday—and I’m restless. I even went to the chapel this morning—so you can see for yourself.
I love you sweets. Love, Ang
Ang and his crew received orders for their change of station. His Form 5 shows an Administrative Flight on the 12th so I assume this was their flight from North Africa to Corsica, to join the 340th Bomb Group, 57th Bomb Wing. They were just in time for the German attack on Corsica airfields during the night of May 12-13. Of course he doesn't mention this when he wrote to Betty the next day. We might not know his part of this story except that he wrote about it in his scrapbook and included a clipping about it from the 340th Bomb Group's Second Anniversary booklet. He dates his scrapbook note as May 11 which is one of many times he misdated information or was just confused about a date. Years later, we teased him about his inability to remember our birth dates. As noted earlier, Ang Adams was a storyteller and I am fully aware that he took a great deal of poetic license in the telling of his tales. I appreciate that he kept most of the gory details out of his letters and the bedtime stories he told us.
The German attack resulted in loss of life and damage to planes and equipment. Some of the men now on Corsica had already survived the eruption of Mt Vesuvius in March 1944, and now, in spite of another major cleanup task, the 340th Squadrons showed their typical grit and determination and managed to send some remaining planes on scheduled missions less than 12 hours after the attack. (You can read more about the effects of Vesuvius here http://www.warwingsart.com/12thAirForce/Vesuvius.html and about the German attack here http://57thbombwing.com/340th_History/340th_Diary/17_May1944.pdf )
Friday May 12. Terribly warm today. Met Pat and Shirl [friends from high school] after work. Had dinner and walked all evening. A’s pictures are very good.
Form 5. A-12, Administrative flight as navigator, B25-J, 2:45h
May 13. Not so warm today. Shopped all P.M Bot a suit & coat. Napped and did laundry. Read papers. wrote Ang—bed 12:00.
You’ve probably noticed the change in address—well that should be definite. This is home for quite awhile—I hope! In case you can’t read it in the little box--
486th Bomb Sq.
340 Bomb Group
I suppose you’ve also noticed the “Corsica.” How do you like that? I didn’t even know that it was in our hands—much less expect to be here. I’ll tell you more about it after I’ve had a chance to look around.
I think I’m going to like it here very much. all the fellows seem very nice—and the informality is wonderful.
That’s about all for now--
I love you darling Love, Ang
First day with outfit
Also Jerry raided the hell out of us.
Landed at field at about 6PM. After eating, were assigned to tents, Being new and eager, I asked my "veteran" tentmates if I should dig a fox hole.
"Hell no," says my "veteran" tentmates. "Jerry won't come over."
At about 9PM Jerry hit the night fighter field up the line.
"Wasn't that a sight?" said my "veteran" tentmates, "maybe tomorrow we'd better dig fox holes."
At about 11PM Jerry visited us. The ack-ack woke me up; but since it didn't seem to disturb the snoring of my "veteran" tentmates, I tried to go back to sleep. However a few seconds later, the ammo dump went up and we all got out to see the show.
We stood in the company street so we wouldn't miss anything. Jerry laid a string of frags about a hundred yards away. Up until then I had done everything my "veteran" tentmates had--I figured they knew what they were doing--but after that I hit the biggest hole I could find, and beat all the "veterans" to it.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The next day I found out that the outfit hadn't been raided in over a year--therefore none of the "veterans" had ever been in one---and they didn't know anymore about what to do than I did---the damn fools!
AFTERMATH OF RAID
“Helpful” Adams (that’s me) walking along. Saw Capt. Lee digging fox hole. He had hit water and it was oozing around his ankles
Said “Helpful” Adams, “Say Capt. Lee, you’ve hit water.”
A disgusted look crept over his face as he looked up at me. “God damn it, I know it!”
I couldn’t imagine what he’d gotten made at, but I had enough sense to slink away.
I wonder what he got mad at?
As May 1944 begins, Ang finds himself ordered to do more training and will spend more time in North Africa. Sadly, he does not get a chance to see Bud again. Betty has settled in to life in Chicago. She is living at her in-laws and working. She continues to spend her spare time visiting friends and her family, writing letters, shopping. On the 11th, she mentions going downtown to buy tickets. I'm assuming she is making plans to join her mother, Margaret, in California. But first Margaret arrives in Chicago later in the month. In June they are both in California and some of Ang's letters show they were addressed to Chicago and forwarded to the Los Angeles address.
Monday, May 1. Rainy again, but clouds cleared up and very warm. Worked till 9:30. Dead tired. Two letters from Ang! Bed 11:30
A-1, Administrative flight as navigator, B25-J, 1:15h
May 2. Didn’t work quite so hard today. Warm. Shopped at noon. To Betty Hillis in evening. Bed by 12:00. Dead.
May 3. Was going to stay home and clean up—and Specs came in. Nuts. Wrote Ang a long letter. Bed at 1:00. Ugh!
May 3, 1944 orders - apparently for more training. Courtesy of Sterling Ditchey. Note that Ang's crew is the last crew on the right. Many of these names will show up in crews in his Flight Log. He becomes good friends with Tom Cahill on the left. For the most part, these "original crews" will not stay together as crews.
May 4. Awfully windy and coolish. To Grams for dinner and then to Bell___[?]—and stayed all night. Bed about 11:30. Tired.
[V-Mail. Postmark 5-17-44]
Haven’t much of news today—we’ve started back on the old, old schedule of school etc. Well, you know how that affects me. Oh well—such is life.
I do wish your mail would catch up with me—then, when I write, I could answer your letters. We lead a pretty boring life—and there really is nothing to write about.
We walk about a mile to the showers—a half mile to the toilet—about the same to the mess hall—and everything else is like that. It seems like I spend all my time walking to or from some place. What a life. Oh well—this walking is good for me—I’m bound to lose weight.
I love you honey—Love, Ang
May 5. Sunny but cold. Worked hard as usual. Had letters from Bud and Ang--They met!! Wrote letters all evening.
V-Mail, 5-5-44 [5-17-44]
I’ve a request to make. I wish you’d start trying to get some film for that little camera of yours. Get as much as you can—and then send them to me (camera & film). Don’t send it yet. When I get settled permanently—I’ll tell you to send it. I just wanted to get you started on buying film. Get all you can—maybe Goldsmiths—or Uncle George can help you.
Everyone is growing a beard around here—I had one too—but it tickled and I shaved it off. However, I’m going to let my upper lip grow until I get home again. I’ll have the most beautiful handlebar you ever saw by then.
That’s about all I have now dear—I love you very, very much. Love, Ang
May 6. Shopped in PM but no luck. Downtown in evening to movies. Quite a day. Dead tired. Bed about one.
May 7. To Gram’s for dinner and then to Aunt Bea’s for afternoon. Back home and in all evening. Wrote some letters.
May 8. Rained all day long--hard too. Met Al after work and out to their place for dinner. He drove me home--late of course.
May 9. Made a date with Pat C. for Friday. To Gram’s for dinner and home with Aunt Kay. To bed late--as usual. Dead tired.
May 10. Late for work - missed the early train. Awfully foggy. Bot Adams some flowers for anniv. [Ang's parents Sam and Stella. 24th anniversary.] Wrote some letters. Bed late.
V-Mail, May 10, 1944 [5-17-44 V Mail]
I finally got a letter from you—in fact two of them, dated 22 & 24th. Boy, when they tell you that the most important thing to the boys overseas is mail from home—believe them! I can’t even begin to tell you what those two letters did for me—I feel like a human being again. I’ll bet I haven’t read them more than a dozen times apiece. Boy, oh boy!
I imagine there must be about thirty of them chasing me around the world—and sure wish they’d catch up. However, now that they’ve found me—I guess they’ll be coming in pretty regular. I hate to fill the whole letter with raving about my mail—but that’s about all I can think of now. I love you honey—and very, very much.
May 11. Up early and downtown for tickets. Very warm. Worked all evening. Wrote Ang and to bed. Dead tired.
V-Mail, 5-11-44 [5-22-44]
Please excuse the Elizabeth Ann—but I get tired of seeing that name Angelo all over these “V” mails. Between the 2nd Lt. Angelo and the Mrs. Angelo—it counts up to six.
I didn’t get any more of your letters today—but I don’t feel so bad. I’ve got yesterday’s two to read over and over—and don’t think I’m kidding.
I suppose by now that you are a working girl again. I hope you get a job you like as much as you did the last one you had in Chicago. I suppose it will help relieve the monotony. I can imagine what its like—spending your time between my relatives and darling Uncle Walt. It must be exciting—ha, ha!
Please excuse any jumbled parts of this letter. Arne is singing his songs (champaign affects him that way). and you know how he likes to get confidential and sing in your ear.
I love you sweets—Love, Ang
[Below: May 10, 1944 orders, also courtesy of Sterling Ditchey. Ang's crew at tope left. Finally a Permanent Change of Status! Next stop: Corsica!]
Joni Adams Sesma, daughter of Angelo and Elizabeth Adams. Ang served on Corsica with the 57th Bomb Wing, 340th Bomb Group, 486th Bomb Squadron. April 1944-April 1945.