Lester’s memory book included an engraved menu card for the dinner served to Navy personnel on November 20, 1941.
Inside, beside a list of officers–commanding officer, executive officer and commissary officers–was the menu for the day.
Cream of Tomato Soup with saltine crackers
Roast Tom Turkey
Baked Spiced Ham
Apple Dressing
Giblet Gravy
Cranberry Sauce
Sweet Picles
Ripe Olives
Candied Sweet Potatoes
Buttered Asparagus
Hearts of Celery
Pumpkin Pie
Neapolitan Ice Cream
Hot Sweet Rolls
Butter
Coffee
Cigarettes
Perhaps Lester mailed this menu home after the holiday to prove how well the Navy was feeding him and the other sailors.
It sounds like a delicious dinner, with much to reflect on the blessings of the previous year. Little did anyone know that before another month was out–in only seventeen days–the situation would change dramatically with the attack on Pearl Harbor.
Most of the letters in the collection from the early 1940’s were addressed to the folks at home. A few, such as this one to Lester’s younger brother, answered specific letters written to him. His posts were frequent enough, I have to think he was very quick about answering letters. He kept his loved ones reassured that all was well with him in Michigan. Interestingly, in this letter Lester mentions a typewriter which was available for use at the USO, but it was in such demand that he never had a chance to type. All of the letters from Lester are written in his fine penmanship on US Navy stationery.
Lester, on right, with his sister Frances and younger brother Wallace. About 1928.
November 23
Dear Wallace
I received your letter yesterday & was very glad to hear from you. Yes, I must admit this last letter was easier to read than your first one but I am glad to get either kind. I got the envelopes. Thanks. You don’t need to send me anything else as we can get liberty now that we are in Paradise.
Ernest went to Milwaukee with a friend yesterday & went for an airplane ride. The boy is a pilot. It was foggy so they were only up about ten minutes.
Charles Miller & myself along with a hundred or so more sailors went to Waukeegan. It is a town of 6,000 a few miles from here. There wasn’t much going on there except at the USO centers. There are five places for the entertainment of service men there but we took in only two of them, the Catholic place & the U.S. O. They have games of all kinds, ping pong, checkers, shuffel-board & pool . I played one game of pool & got quite a kick out of it. They also have reading & writing rooms & dances. I intended to write you a letter there but the typewriter was always busy.
typewriter.detail5 (Photo credit: jcbonbon)
We stayed a while for the dance but left about 8:30 & were back home by 9:30. They have dance instructors there but I didn’t take advantage of them this time. There were about five sailors for every girl present. Everyone had a grand time, no drunks & nice girls who were there for fun & to help the sailors enjoy themselves. The USO is for soldiers also but I saw only one soldier & several hundred sailors.
I can’t say for sure that I will be home for the Junior play but according to the schedule I should be there by then. We are hoping that they will either hold us an extra week or grant an extension of leave so that we may be home Christmas but don’t plan too much on that as there is nothing definite yet concerning that.
I don’t know if I am still gaining but I am feeling the best I have felt for a long time & I’m quite sure I’m not losing any weight. I have more letters to write so must close now. Most of the boys have KP duty this week but I don’t. Priveleged character, huh?
Ambassador Bridge at Night between Detroit, Mich. and Windsor, Ont. Photo from postal card, 1942
Lester’s letter from November 18, 1941, less than three weeks before the attack on Pearl Harbor, describes routine life for Navy recruits. Perhaps he did enjoy a “liberty” in town and was witness to a scene like the one in the post card he sent home. He is looking forward to a trip home over the Christmas holidays.
November 18, 1941
Dear Folks.
I have just finished writing to Uncle Loren & I guess I should have made carbon copies as I can’t think of anything that I didn’t tell him. I hope your good weather is holding out as well as it is here. The sun has been shining fairly steady the last few days. It is still warm here. You must have been having some bad weather there. Did you have my anti-freeze tested? Also did you get my battery from Fred? I intended to give you the money to pay for it but forgot to do so. Tomorrow is pay day but by the time we get our bills paid there won’t be much left. I have a little other money so I will have enough to come home.
Lester and the automobile he was proud to own.
We received our grades yesterday but this is the first time I have had time to write to you. Here are my grades: English 87, Spelling 94, Arithmetic 95, Mechanical Aptitude 93, General Classification 93, with an average of 93. I was one of the five highest in our company, So I should get to go to trade school. I don’t know where the school will be but it may be here at the Great Lakes.
We have to go to a show or something tonight so I won’t have much time to write tonight. Did Josephine tell you that I have received the rating of a petty officer? I was made a squad leader as a result of the first bag inspection. We had another inspection today & I made it ok, too. There were about three or four others in the sixty on this floor that had good bags. I didn’t tell you about my rating before because it isn’t permanent & I didn’t know if I could hold the job. I’ve gotten along ok so far so chances are that I will make it now.
We go over to Paradise this Saturday so we will start getting some liberties then. I haven’t found it bad here except that there isn’t anything to do on Sunday afternoons. We’ve walked all over the place where we are allowed to go & we can’t just study or write letters all the time. We usually have time in the evenings during the week to keep up on our correspondence. If there is anything you want to know which I haven’t told you, ask some questions. Frances sent me some papers & Josephine sends me clippings once in a while. She sent me some candy this morning & I didn’t get time to open it until tonight. I didn’t get to read my letters until this afternoon. I got four letters today. Everyone wrote on Sunday, I guess. That means no more until the last of the week which won’t be long at the rate the time is going. We got another haircut today. Just when my hair was getting where I could part it. It will grow some more tho, I guess. I’ve gained almost ten pounds. Paul, I enjoy your letters. Keep on writing to me. I will write you a special letter someday.
I’ve had a challenge to keep up with Lester’s letters over the past week, given a whirlwind race a thousand miles distant to greet my new granddaughter, with three letters dated during the week. But the amazing thing about today’s technology is its availability from almost anywhere you might go. Hours on the road provide ample time to ponder the circle of life, from a peek into history through letters written more than seventy years ago to a peek into the future through a fresh, new life. My new grandchild, Arya LaRue, is Lester’s great-great-niece. Perhaps life is more than a circle. It is more like a spiral, cycling ever upward and onward, built on the foundation of the loops which precede us. The loop which represents each of us starts rather tight and small. With age, it will expand to support more loops as the spiral grows. So Arya, meet Lester. His story is part of your own.
Nov 12, 1941
Dear Folks
I received your letter today just before drill so didn’t get to read it until this evening. Sure am glad that it isn’t raining all the time now. It cleared off here today & the sun shone for the first time in a week.
No, I haven’t had any more boils except the one on my arm which had started when I left. It went ahead & developed & is ok now with no signs of any more. I do have some pimples but I’ll be careful of them. Too bad about Ola, hope she gets along ok. Is Mabel Bruton still working at St. Marys? No, I haven’t been out on the ‘big water’ yet. In fact, I haven’t even seen the lake. Of course, since I haven’t seen the lake, I haven’t been on a ship, either. We sleep in barracks, not ships. The barracks are built in this shape.
Sketch of barracks floor plan.
The ends are where we sleep, sixty on each floor & each end. The toilets, work rooms, showers, clothes dryer & clothes wash room are in the center.
We will have our pictures taken Friday but I think that I will wear my hat. It doesn’t look so good but it is better than the haircut. I watched the clock when the barber cut my hair. It took him one minute & twenty seconds. He was a little slow on me. We don’t think anything about our hair but sure notice the shaggy locks of the new recruits.
Lester F. Harris. (He didn’t wear his hat.)
How much did it cost to get my suitcase? We weren’t allowed to pay for it here. I don’t remember what Ernest had except a bottle of hair oil. Did you get my film from his suitcase?
What’s the matter, can’t Junior get along without his mama? I had heard that Wirsigs were going out there. You don’t need to send me any papers unless I get settled for awhile & that won’t be until after I come home. Josephine has been sending me a few clippings & you might do the same if you want to.
We took a bunch of tests this morning which will help to decide our entrance into trade schools. I think that I made it OK. Sure hope so. If I didn’t, there will be a lot of the others that didn’t pass either.
Yes, I do like it better all the time. When we first came in we were the target of a good many jokes & remarks. The tables are turned now & we are the ones that shout, “rookie.”
Well, Aunt Mabel did have to answer Uncle Loren’s letter after all. I’m sorry if she felt left out. I didn’t mean it to be that way. I wrote to Aunt Nelia the other day so she knows that I am ok. Is granddad ok? I’ll try to get him a letter some time. I have written about fifteen letters so I should have some coming in along.
The boys are sure busy tonight, rolling clothes. We will have a bag inspection tomorrow & most of them haven’t kept their clothes rolled. I just have one jumper to roll so that won’t take long. I had a good bag the other day. Hope I get by tomorrow ok.
I guess that we will probably get off from here Dec. 12 & so will have to be back here Dec. 23. Pretty close isn’t it. That isn’t certain yet but that is the schedule now. If I could get some new recruits I could get an extension on my leave at the rate of one day for each of first three recruits, two days for the fourth & three days for the fifth. If you hear of anyone who wants to join, let me know who they are.
We’ve sure been having good eats lately. Tonight we had chili minus the broth, rice, apple & cabbage salad, butter, two slices of bread, a cookie & cocoa. Usually we have coffee. I haven’t tried to drink it yet. For dinner we had boiled meat of some kind, sweet potatoes, gravy, carrot & raisin salad & cake. The carrot salad was made of shredded carrots, raisins & cream, I think. It sure was good. We have ice cream two or three times a week. If you want to send me anything, make it candy. You don’t need to send anything as we have enough to eat & can buy candy at the canteen if we want to. We aren’t allowed to have much except what they furnish us. I’ll have to get busy now. I’m always glad to hear from you. Hope all is ok with you. Everything is fine here.
(Interestingly, this letter from 1941 clearly indicates that the days of the week this year closely match those of 1941. Here is it Sunday, November 10, 2013. Lester’s long letter postmarked November 10, 1941 was also written on a Sunday. Probably he wrote the letter on November 9. In it he described the daily routine and activities of his experience so far.)
Dear Folks
This is Sunday evening, six-thirty & I have just finished shaving & cleaning up for the evening so I will try to get a letter off before I start to study. It is three hours yet till we have to be in bed though we can go to bed any time after seven-thirty. We have supper about five o’clock on Sunday evening. You asked what we did each day so I will try to go thru an average day for you.
We get up at five-thirty, dress & lash up our hammocks by six o’clock. Then if we are having late chow, we clean up the barracks before eating. We sweep, wash, wax, polish & shine everything. By this time it is seven-thirty & time for late chow. After chow we go to the field to drill or to a lecture. We drill till eleven or twelve then back to the barracks for a little rest before noon chow. The rifles we carry for drill weigh about eight pounds without bayonets. The bayonets add another pound but we haven’t used them yet. About one-thirty we go to drill again until sometime around four. Again we rest before evening chow at five-thirty. After that we are free to do as we please which means that we wash clothes, shave, take showers, get our beds made up, write letters, play cards or study. You see we manage to keep busy.
Keeping busy at the training station. Photo postal card 1941.
Someone has to stand guard all the time. The guards are four hour shifts which is plenty long to walk the floor. My first guard was from midnight till four in the morning. I had to walk back & forth about a distance of seventy-five feet. Four hours of that gets pretty tiresome & monotonous.
This morning everyone except the guards & the Jews went to church. This afternoon we went to a concert by an all-girl band. The boys sure got a kick out of that. I think the girls enjoyed it also. On Monday, Wednesday & Friday nights we can go to shows if we want to go. I have gone twice. They are the same shows which you see at home. Last night we went to a special show & lecture. A Norwegian boy who had escaped from the Nazis in Norway told how they were annoying & fighting their Nazi conqueors.
I had a letter from Aunt Mabel the other day, also one from Frances. I have received several letters, about one every other day, I guess. I’m always glad to hear how you are getting along.
By the way, Wallace, if you had pants like we wear here, you would have to wear gloves to keep your hands warm as you can’t get your hands in the pockets on these. There are only two pockets on the trousers, both at the waistband. There is a flap in the front which requires fourteen (14) buttons to close.
Lester in his US Navy uniform.
When you reach for the pockets, your hands just slide on over a row of buttons. We wear an undershirt, a black woolen sweater & a navy blue jumper which ties tight around the waist above the trousers & then hangs down over the trouser waistband. We carry most of our stuff in this pouch. We have two of these outfits for every day wear & one heavier dress outfit with white braid on the jumper. We have to wear leggings here. They spoil the looks of the outfit but they do help keep the pant legs clean. We have one pair of Sunday shoes & one heavy pair for everyday wear. We have plenty of clothes, especially when it is time to wash them. We have to do this in a bucket & with a scrub brush. We don’t use clothes pins to hang them up with but tie them up with clothes-stops, pieces of trot-line cord. We have a dryer room which we use in bad weather instead of hanging them outside.
We get our mail delivered at noon & again at about four in the afternoon. Practically all of the mail comes in the morning. I got your letter at eleven this morning which is the quickest of any yet. Usually it takes two days. If you have a chance you might send me some envelopes as I am almost out of any that are any good. We received stationery here at the camp but the envelopes won’t stick. You don’t need to send stamps as I can get those here. I would rather have the self-sealing kind if you can get them. Don’t go to any trouble as I can write cards of course.
I’m about pumped dry & really should study some as we are going to have some tests this week & I don’t have time during the week to study so I had better bring this to a close.
We will get twelve hours leave when we transfer to Camp Paradise but I think I will stay here probably & save the money I would spend. We won’t have much left from this first check. Write whenever you can as we are all anxious to hear from home. The mailman is quite popular here.
I hope the rain has stopped for awhile. Paul, I enjoyed your letter a lot, write again. Did you get my stuff from Ernest’s suitcase? I had a roll of film & some other stuff in there. I may want my camera as I hear that we are allowed to have them.
There isn’t much of anything new to write about but I suppose that you would wonder what has happened to me if I don’t write. It started snowing last night & has been snowing ever since but it melts as fast as it falls. It really isn’t as cold here as I had expected to find it. A boy from Kentucky sleeps next to me & he is about to freeze all the time. He says that fourty above is really cold there & two or three inches of snow is the most that he has ever seen. Did I tell you that I have a brother in this company. His name is Loyd Arthur Harris. Just the middle initial is the only difference in our names. He is from Michigan & a very nice boy. The officers have to call us by our full name in order to tell us apart. He is upstairs & I am on the first floor so we don’t see much of each other.
I’ve written so many letters to different people that I can’t remember what I have told you. Did I tell you about the gas drill? We put on gas masks & went into the gas chamber for two or three minutes then took the mask off & went outside. It wasn’t so bad.
Finnish civilian gas mask from 1939. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
I had a letter from Frances the other day. It must be getting muddy by now. Is anything new happening? If you could see the way we mob the mailman you would know that we are all anxious to receive letters.
Lester, about age 9, with sister Frances and younger brother Wallace.
I’m going to have to stop without finishing this page. Will write more later.
I won’t have time to write much of a letter tonight as we are really quite busy all of the time. Of course we don’t drill so long each day but we have to do our washing & cleaning up in leisure time. Also I want to do some studying before we take any more exams which will be next week. We took one exam today. It wasn’t bad so I think that I made a fair grade.
Sorry to hear that you are still having rains back there. I hoped that it would dry up some time. It has been nice here since Sunday & probably will stay that way for awhile. I can’t think of very much to write about as life is very much routine here. About the same every day. I’m liking it better all the time as I get accustomed to the new way of doing things.
As I told you, we sleep in hammocks & we have to air our mattress & blankets every day & then make them in the evening. We are learning something new all the time so that keeps it interesting.
Postal card from the U.S. Naval Training Station, Great Lakes, Ill. 1941
We got our first mail Monday & when Earnest got a letter & I didn’t get any I was rather disappointed but the tables were turned today when I received two letters & he didn’t get any. We have been together all the way through so far. He sleeps right beside me. I am number 17 & he is no. 18.
We all have certain duties toward keeping the barracks clean. The jobs are passed around so that no one has a bad job very long.
We went to a show last night but it wasn’t too hot. I think I will stay & study tomorrow night. They have shows on Monday, Wednesday, & Friday. Josephine sent me a clipping from the paper saying that we could attend the roller skating rink, bowling & a few other activities that I haven’t heard anything about here yet.
Keep writing whenever you can & I will do the same.
Lester’s first letter home was post marked November 1, 1941 11:00 a.m. in Great Lakes, Ill. Notice the first-class postage stamp for 3 cents.
Dear Folks:
I have a little time now after dinner so will write a few lines. I am getting along fine so far & like it OK. We have pretty good eats & plenty of it. We sleep in hammocks which are rather hard to get in & stay in, however I haven’t fallen out yet. We are pretty busy most of the time, rolling clothes & etc. We roll our clothes instead of pressing them.
We have been issued clothes, bedding & toilet articles including a comb. After getting my haircut I don’t understand why they included the comb. We have absolutely no use for it. Maybe we will be able to use it someday, before I come home, I hope. We haven’t been vaccinated yet, probably get those this afternoon. If anyone asks about me writing them a letter I probably won’t be able to for the three weeks while in quarantine. Our time starts Friday.
Image from a postcard sent home from training.
There are 120 boys in a company, sixty on this floor & sixty on the floor above. They are a mighty nice bunch of boys, some are full of mischief of course but no bad ones.
I haven’t seen the sun since leaving Kansas City Tuesday evening. We rode all night & didn’t get into Chicago until about nine Wednesday morning. We crossed the Mississippi before daylight. I was awake but couldn’t see much. I think they must have been having a flood as it looked as though the water was all over the lowlands. There were seventeen of us from Kansas City & we had a Pullman car all to ourselves. We had breakfast in the diner at $1.00 per. But we didn’t have to pay it.
I talked to Gentry over the phone a few minutes but it was so noisy I could hardly understand him. I am sending my key in this letter. Will have to close now. Write soon.
When I think of family and losses, my thoughts turn first to an uncle whom I never met. Lester Franklin Harris was the older brother to my father. Born the 21st day of February in 1918, Uncle Lester came of age during the depression era. He helped run the family farm for a few years after graduation from high school. In 1941, with conflicts escalating all over the world, he joined the US Navy and headed to the Great Lakes for training.
Lester did not make it home from World War II. His loss came years before any of my generation arrived, so none of us had the chance to know Uncle Lester. But we heard about him. My cousin, the son of Lester’s older sister, was named after him with a middle name of Lester. Additionally, David Lester’s life was so impacted by his mother’s love for her brother that he later joined the US Navy himself and remained active in the Navy reserves for many years beyond his active duty.
When the telegraph bearing news of Lester’s presumed death arrived at his home, the family–my family–bore a tragic shock. His parents had lost a son. His sister and younger brothers had lost their brother. His fiance had lost her soul mate. And those of us who came later not only lost an uncle, we lost the aunt he would have brought into the family, and any cousins who might arrived. Growing up, we didn’t know we had lost anything in particular. We’d never known the world with Lester in it. So how could we miss him?
Decades later, after the deaths of his younger brothers, I have found a box of Lester’s letters. And I understand. My grandmother saved everything. She filled a scrapbook with postcards he sent, photos, and other memories. Through his own words, I am now learning who my uncle was, what he meant to the family, and the scope of his tragic and untimely death. Over the next few months, I will post those letters, on the anniversaries of their origin, and share a few of the memories from over seventy years ago.
Today’s post is a speech he gave at his high school graduation. As salutatorian of his class, he was expected to address those in attendance. Surprisingly enough, or maybe without surprise, he spoke of a ship setting sail as a metaphor for graduates launching into their lives after school days are over. I post it today, for it was possibly on this date in the year 1941 when Lester left home for his basic training.
Setting Sail
This week will see members of senior classes from all parts of the United States receiving their diplomas and setting sail on their life vocations.
When a ship starts on a voyage it is loaded with fuel. If the ship is large or the voyage long, stops may be made at several fueling stations. So it is in our life. Our fuel is knowledge, gleaned from our school life. Our first fueling station is the eight years of grade school. Our second, high school, and for those doing larger things in life, a third, college.
Ships are always in danger of being veered from their course by storms, of running onto hidden reefs or rocks. Our storms are discouragements, financial reverses or perhaps choosing the wrong vocation. The sunken reefs and rocks are perhaps the association with the wrong kind of friends.
However a ship does not by any means sail blindly. It has a pilot, lighthouses, and buoys to guide it and mark the dangerous spots. A young graduate’s pilot can be a number of persons—his parents, his teachers, or his friends. Usually each has a large part in determining what route the graduate will take. The lighthouses and buoys are perhaps business partners or others who can help to mark the best course for the graduate who is “Setting Sail” on new seas.
Lester F. Harris, Salutatorian
Senior Class of Dunlap Rural High School
Dunlap, Morris County, Kansas
May 13, 1936
A year ago I launched The Bridge, following advice of several writing friends. It’s been an adventure for me, providing fulfillment in my life. I’ve learned a lot about the blogging world, but I admit I’m still a novice and have a lot more to learn.
This year, The Bridge is receiving a facelift. Again, advice from various writing sources convinced me that it should be narrowed in scope. The book I’ve labored to write for the last three years is nearly complete. I’m polishing a proposal. I’ve pitched it to a couple literary agents and a few small publishers. Excerpts from my memoir have won awards in writing contests in both Kansas and Oklahoma, first place in non-fiction in the 2012 Kansas Writers Association contest, and first place in non-fiction at the 2013 Rose State Writing workshop contest in Oklahoma.
I believe my story might help someone. I’ve done my best to write and polish the prose. I’m confused at times. Blog-related advice runs the gamut from “You can’t sell a book without a blog” to “Don’t start a blog until you know what you’re doing.”
I’m not sure I’ll ever know what I’m doing, but I believe I’ve been nudged from beyond— from across The Bridge—to proceed. My purpose in this venture seems to run counter to all the workshop advice. My goal has never been one of personal enrichment, of financial gain. Publishers and editors need to assess the marketable aspects of a manuscript. All I want to do is help somebody who needs a friend, somebody who might be going through a particularly rough time, somebody who might be struggling with a life-or-death crisis today. In some ways I am terrified to stir up the past and serve it to strangers. But if I can help someone, I need to find the courage to step forward. That is one of life’s big adventures—meeting your fears and laughing through the terror.
Let me tell you a little bit about the bridge photo in the header of this blog. More than three decades ago, I stood with my husband in the basement morgue of the hospital where our daughter—our precious child—had been stillborn. We gazed at her tiny face, stroked her cold cheeks, fingered her tiny hands, and bid her farewell. We had not thought to bring a camera. That was the one and only time we saw our baby girl.
After her memorial service in a windy hilltop cemetery, we wound our way through the hills of our county, just driving, not saying much. We did have our cameras though. Every so often, something caught our attention and we stopped to take a picture. The scenes were bleak, lonely, cold, showing life buried by death, and dreams receding across a bridge. Together they expressed our unspeakable grief. The collage of photos became our picture of little Gabrielle, and the header of this blog was among them. It is a picture of my baby girl. Isn’t she amazing?
Since the day three decades ago when I stood on a lonely road taking a picture of a bridge, I’ve bidden farewell to Gabrielle’s little brother. I’ve been widowed. My grandmother passed on, as well as a few friends. Most recently, I’ve been orphaned. Each loss opened a fresh wound and shook my faith in the goodness of life. Each loss was different, leaving a new kind of hole in my heart. Sometimes I thought I could not bear the pain. To watch someone you love die is to watch the world stop turning.
And yet, I survived. I’m here to say there is life after loss. All of us who love somebody risk the pain of loss and we will all have to bid that final farewell to our dear ones someday. After the frenzy surrounding a loss comes to an end, one thing that remains is the certainty that your life has changed forever.
But there is still life after loss. And it can be a good life. After losing my first husband, I met another wonderful man. After losing two children, together my husband and I have raised four. Now we are enjoying the antics of a grandson, and our youngest daughter is expecting a baby girl very soon. Life can be good indeed.
I offer The Bridge, re-designed, to feature topics related to grief and healing, to memorial tributes for my loved ones now gone, and to cover writing topics. Other facets of my life belong in another place. For those who may be facing terminal illness right now, or the sudden, unexpected death of a loved one, my heart goes out to you. I hope entries in The Bridge may provide a small bit of comfort and help with your healing journey. At least you’ll know you’re not alone. You have a friend.
The Bridge 