In spite of continuing bad weather on Corsica or over targets, the squadron managed to fly more than 30 missions in March. Ang flew his two final missions in March, but not until the 13th and 16th. On the 6th, he is finally able to tell Betty about Tom Cahill, and then tries to reassure her that he is “over it” and is fine now.
Somehow he manages to write some fairly newsy letters, touching on many topics, including post-war plans, salary, cooking. He sends an article about the paintings on the planes. There were some photos of these paintings in his scrapbook. I'll post those later. He mentions someone named Canfield twice, but I can't seem to find that name in any files or records.
Betty is busy as ever with board meetings, sewing an outfit for the Membership Tea, going to a few movies. She talks with Mrs. Abel (Ang’s new roommate).
Thursday March 1. Busy at the office—Dark and rainy. Napped before dinner—Wrote a couple letters—to bed about 11:00. Sure tired.
[Letter. Postmark 3-3]
Oh darn—this is one of those days where you go crazy for lack of something to do—and then when you finally decide to write some letters—you just can’t get started. You remember how restless I used to get around the house—not being able to sit down—and yet not knowing what to do—that’s the way I’ve been all day today.
I guess I’ve had it—its about time I was heading for home. I haven’t pestered any of the wheels, because I’ve been kinda hanging around for that Captaincy deal. However, nothing seems to be coming out of it—and its beginning to get on my nerves just laying around. I think I’ll fly two more missions—and if nothing develops by then, I’ll quit and start packing for home.
It isn’t that a Captaincy would mean so much to me—although the extra money wouldn’t hurt us. Its just that as a Captain when I got back to the states, I’d have a little more to say about where I wanted to be stationed and the type of job I wanted. However, nothing is worth staying over here indefinitely. So, if an opening doesn’t develop pretty darn soon, I’m just going to give it up. I’ll let you know for sure in about two weeks time.
I don’t feel as badly as this letter indicates—its just my restlessness—you know how I am when I have nothing to keep me busy.
Before I forget, yes I did get the film you sent—about a month ago—it sure made fast time.
You can watch the papers for the next couple of weeks. We’ve had a whole slew of reporters, writers, artists etc hanging around here lately—even flying missions with us. They ought to mention our Air Force at the bottom of some of their stories anyway.
Yes, I did get the two articles about Canfield. The little son-of-a-fun will be an ace before we know it. He always was a dead shot—one of the best skeetshooters I’ve seen. I’ll bet Ruth is in glory.
I love you darling—Love, Ang.
March 2. Rainy and cold, but it did clear up later. Had letters from Ang—got in touch with Mrs. Able—Ang’s new roommate.
[Letter. Postmark 3-3]
Well, I must say I feel a hell of a lot better today than I did yesterday. I don’t know what was the matter yesterday—just restlessness I guess. I suppose even I have to have days like that once in awhile—I suppose!
I’m sending you a few more snaps I’ve had around. I should say I’ve been doing alright by you. I’ve got quite a few more that I’d like to send home—but can’t. I’m afraid you’ll just have to wait until I get home to see them—providing they’ll allow me to bring them with me. They’d better—I’ve gone thru a lot of trouble to get those—and I’ve got some beauties.
No dear, none of the snaps I sent you are commercials—they were all taken by me or one of the other boys. That one of the Nile was a beauty—I was quite proud of myself and the camera. I certainly do hope the Koda-colors come out –they should be extra special. I could send them to the states for development, but they’d have to go thru a lot of army channels, and I’m afraid something might happen to them. I guess I just wait until I come home.
Coming back to that subject again—I still don’t know when I’ll be coming home. However, I can tell you one thing—I’m going to fly very few more missions—and the ones I do fly, I’m going to pick. I’ve been flying them as the came—but I guess old Adams better start thinking about his wife and future family. I promise the few remaining will be milk runs—and nothing but. That was so you could stop worrying about me—that should put your mind more at ease.
Peg and Joe seem to be getting along allright, don’t they? By the way I sent Donny a big Teddy Bear from France—I thought it was very cute.
I also got some perfume for you and your mother—I’ll send it on tomorrow.
I love you honey—Love, Ang
March 3. Real nice day. My morning in office—not much to do. Bot some pads for suit. Home alone in evening—did some sewing.
Form 5. Mar 3, ____ flight as navigator, B-25J, 2:05h
[486th diary reports a stand own on this date, so this was robably a practice mission. Other squadrons did fly missions on this date.]
[Letter. Postmark 3-4]
I just happened to think—its only two weeks until my birthday. Time is sure going by—by the time this war is over we’ll be a middle-aged couple—almost! And on the twenty-seventh of this month I’ll have been in the Army three full years. That means I’ll start drawing foggy — an extra 5% — about 12 bucks a month extra. Boy, we’re really getting into the upper income brackets. Do you realize we’ve been earning about 500 bucks per month between us in the past 6-7 months. Holy Moses—if you’ll remember, that’s the figure we’d set for ourselves as the best living level. Well, we can always say that we attained it once in our lives.
Also, in about a month I’ll have been overseas a year—and be able to wear two overseas stripes on my sleeves. Boy, that blouse sure won’t look the same as it did when I left the states—providing I ever get around to putting everything on it. Of course it could also use a good cleaning.
One of your old letters (Jan 20) came yesterday—demanding the size shoe I wear. Really honey, I don’t need or want another pair of shoes. I’ve gotten quite used to the G.I. shoe—and I’ve got those boots I bought in Cairo. However, just before I come home, I’ll send you a request for a pair so you can get a coupon for me—O.K.?
I love you darling—Love, Ang
March 4. Raining hard again today but cleared up a bit later. The [??unable to read] over for a while — to movie with Mary Tribing. Bed late.
[Letter. Postmark 3-6]
Got your letters of the 17, 18, & 19th—and since I don’t have to much to write about I’ll comment a little on them.
First, thanks for Gails letter—took a little dig at me didn’t she? I’m glad you plan on going to see her—it ought to do you both a lot of good. I can just see that she’s dying for a chance to give you the poop on the Bohlings—ha!
It certainly is too bad about Canfield—I hope its just a false rumor. Yes, it is true that Gabby can’t write about it—not for thirty days after its happened. It’s a very serious offense if he does—or anyone does. Its too bad, but that’s the army for you—and one of its damn regulations.
As far as your becoming a barfly goes—you can relax, because hubby definitely does not disapprove. As far as the word trust goes—I didn’t quite understand what you meant. If you wondered if I trusted you to take a couple of drinks and not make a fool of yourself—you can relax. You know what I think of your ability to handle yourself under any circumstances. If you mean the other kind of trust—well, all I can say is feel a little bit insulted. Don’t worry hon, if I ever get to the point where I don’t trust you that way—you’ll know about it—probably thru a lawyer. Ha, what a foolish thing to ask me. boy, after a few very important preliminaries, I’m going to paddle your little hind end—but good, as soon I get my hands on you. Oh me, what a day that will be—oh me!
I’m really glad you are getting hep on this cooking stuff. However, I want to warn you—don’t practice too much on this prepared stuff. All I’ll want when I get there is plenty of meat (mostly steak). French fries (no mash potatoes for Gods sakes) and plenty of fresh vegetables (mostly salads) and, believe it or not, gallons of fresh milk. Imagine me and milk, but its true, I’ll drink it by the gallon. Not that I’ll take any time off to eat for the first couple of days, but _ _ _ _. That was kind of raw and I didn’t even think it up—it’s the standard last words of all boys heading for home. You can see where our thoughts are concentrated most of the time—ha!
I hope you say something definite about your plans in one of your next few letters. If you are leaving for Chicago this month, I’d better start addressing the mail there. However I won’t start until you tell me to—I wouldn’t want to get that screwed up or you’d probably never talk to me again.
I love you darling—Love, Ang
March 5. Marian out all day — sure didn’t work very hard. Shopped for [??] but no luck. Wrote letters in evening. Bath and bed.
[Letter. Postmark 3-6]
The enclosed article is about one of our Squadrons. Those paintings on the planes are really cute—I really go for them.
Now to get to my moustache—or rather my lack of one. Really honey, it looks a lot better in the pictures than it actually is. Actually it was very mousy looking—I couldn’t get it trimmed at all. However, I’ll think it over, may I will grow another one before I come home.
I would hardly say that I disapprove of our families getting together—in fact there is nothing I would rather happen. I hardly think that Eleanor will contaminate my mother.
By the way, I sent the Cannes presents off today. I sent yours to Chicago, just to be on the safe side.
While we are still on the subject of Cannes—I cashed a check for $150.00 yesterday. I suppose I could have gotten away without cashing a check—but it would have left me broke and still owing some money—so I thought I’d better get straightened out once and for all.
You seemed to be a little excited about our post-war plans—really I’ve changed my mind since I last wrote you—several time. At the present I’m all at sea—although I do have a little deal cooking over here that I might take up after the war. Do you think you’d like to do a lot of traveling? That’s one thing that’s holding me up—I detest the thought of ever leaving the states once I get back to them. Its sort of an export-import deal—and the biggest drawback—you guessed it—money! Its still in the dreaming stages so I wouldn’t get too excited about it. More about it later on—if anything comes of it.
I love you darling—Love, Ang
March 6. Wasn’t much to do today but managed to keep busy. Mr. L. out of office. Mother to Rowena’s for trays[?]—so a late dinner. Sewed on [??coat?]. [Note: I originally thought Rowena was an in-law of Betty's uncle, but further research indicates she was Rowena Higgins, a friend of Betty's mother from their time in Arkansas when Betty was born.]
[Letter. Postmark 3-11]
Well, the waiting period that the army requires is over and I can tell you. Tom Cahill is missing in action.
Its been killing me to tell—to save you a lot of grief later on—and I couldn’t say a word about it until this certain waiting period was over. Those letters you sent me saying you had gone to visit Tom’s mother—and what a wonderful time you had with them and so on—almost drove me crazy. And then this letter you sent me about Canfield—it was practically the same circumstances—oh hell, I know the army has its reasons but it sure was hard not to say anything.
Even now there is very little I can say—and I’ll be darned if I know what to advise you to do. Without a doubt Mrs. Cahill has been informed of it by now, but if the Army has screwed up, I don’t want you to let her know about it. If you do call her up or see her before you leave, you’ll just have to use all your tact. If she doesn’t know--don’t say a word. If she does know—well, I’ll be darned if I know what you should say. You can tell her that there a fellow on his way home who will come to see her and give her as much information as he can. I guess I’ll write her a letter one of these days, but there really isn’t much I can say in a letter. All I can say is that he was shot down—and that its my personal belief that there is not too much reason for optimism—God, isn’t that a nice thing to write to a fellows mother. Of course there is always a chance—that’s why he’s listed as Missing in Action—but how can you build up her hopes on slim chance—and yet how can you destroy all her hopes when there is that chance—no matter how small. You’d better just say that I wrote he was missing in action.
You may have wondered why I’ve gone to so many rest camps lately—now you know. It hit me like nothing ever has before—or ever will I guess. I wasn’t much good for anything for quite a while. I’ve seen other fellows go down before, of course, and I didn’t feel too well after, but Tom was rather a special case. He was about the nicest person I have ever known—the kind one can’t help but like—and he was about my best friend. And to top that off, I knew his brother was listed as missing—and all I could think of was his poor mother.
I don’t know what else I can say darling. Don’t worry about me, I’ve gotten over it now—I guess you have to. It was only for a little while that it really knocked the props out from under me.
As far as the other kind of worry goes—you can stop that to. I’m only going to fly a couple more—in fact, I’m not sure I’m going fly any more. As I told you, I’m going to wait about 2 weeks (10 days now) to see if there is an opening for me to get my Captaincy, and if nothing develops I’m going to quit. In the meantime I’m not going to fly any missions. If there is an opening, of course, I’ll have to fly 2-3 more—and that’s all. I’ll let you know more in a few days.
I love you my darling—Love, Ang
March 7. Worked very hard today—typed all day. Had Bd meeting in evening. Home late—and bed late. Ugh.
March 8. Another busy day—a woman was interviewed but no soap. Home alone for dinner. Called P. Able. Wrote letters. Washed head.
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.