Letters from 1972. Kinshasa to San Francisco. Marjorie and Russell

From 1971 to 1974 the Robinsons lived in Kinshasa, Zaire, where Russell was working for Pan American doing technical assistance for Air Zaire, the national airline of Zaïre under President Mobutu.  Marjorie had just left Kinshasa with Russell's mother to return the boys to school in England, and deliver Theresa Robinson to Napa, where she was going to live with her daughter Claire (husband James Gellinger).  In these letters Russell describes some of the difficulties of working in a country run by an African dictator for an airline Mobutu considered his private airline!  Russell was left tending to son Chris and daughter Laurie (Lou, or Louie) while Marjorie was gone for 3 weeks. 

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From Russell to Marjorie

From Kinshasa to California

October 4, 1972

My love,

Thought about you all day yesterday, transiting BRU arriving LON, finding the Kensington close, delivering the shopping cart, talking with our boys, etc. Today (it’s noon) you are getting ready to leave for Heathrow (knowing you, you probably left an hour ago!).  Hope the 747 flight is pleasant and the Claire and Jim are there to meet you. I never did get an acknowledgment that SFO contacted them, but of course that doesn’t mean they didn’t. We shall see shall.

Much excitement of a dismal kind or just after we left you at the airplane. We were stopped by the military re-entering the terminal and I simply showed my QC pass and on being asked, said Laurie was my daughter. Got polite thank you in return. But François began to argue and shout when they question him, so they promptly arrested him and took him off somewhere. L and I found the car and waited by it. 

Then I tried to get back on the tarmac to see if I could find out where they had taken François and what was happening to him, but everything was locked. Finally, after an hour we give up and took a taxi for 23.50. Good thing, too, because I found out in the morning (when to our surprise, he showed up on sked) that they held him until 1 o’clock, broken his glasses, torn his shirt and insisted he pay a “fine.” 

Now he’s due back on Friday a.m. to go further into the fine bit. Poor guy! Yesterday was quiet—still no sentinel (night watchman -ed). I’ve asked Bruce to walk around the outside of the house before he goes to bed, carrying his machete, and looking properly fierce, and he has – and so far, no voleurs.  But Frankie is looking for another sentinel today. I’m afraid Pierre minor is a writeoff.

Last evening Laurie and Bruce went off to the basketball game and Chris came out for what turned out to be a long and serious chat. We discussed his plans (he says now he regrets bitterly his casual attitude toward academics and is determined to do well in his levels, enter university and prepare for a teaching career); Geoffrey (he was amazed to hear that G thinks his chances of getting into a top-rated British university are nil, because Geoff had bragged to him that he could get into anything he pleased); his walking (he was very chastened when I told him it was apparent that Ralph has just about given up on him because of his own lack of interest and effort).  He admitted it, but said he wasn’t sure he really wanted to walk again and didn’t know why he felt that way, but knew he did. Stop in between we talked about Lou and agreed that she was something else. Of course we discussed his students too; students he’s quite pleased with their progress. So!

Bob, Bill W, Jim and Bill Bath were all here yesterday to discuss schedules . . . but in spite of his (Bob’s) speech Monday morning about getting together Tuesday or latest Wednesday to discuss all my problems, which have the highest priority in the airline, etc. no time whatever fixed! So we drift. Alors!

I do hope Mom had a good trip and was not too tired. Please tell her all of us miss her very very much and send our love. Kat sits in my lap most of the time, but otherwise doesn’t seem to have combed the house searching for you. He’s fed, so ça va

Well, give your mother a hug and kiss (if you ever catch up with her!).  I miss you werryy much but won’t feel it most until the weekend. I do adore you!

Your,

Russ

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From Russell to Marjorie

From Kinshasa to California

October 6, 1972

My darling,

It’s a bright shiny day, Laurie’s in school, Chris is in bed, and I suppose Bruce too. Lou got 100% on her French test, and you probably know she got an “excellent” on her stereotype theme. Also, you got a letter from your mother, postmarked September 25! When you come back maybe you’ll find out where she went!

Did I tell you we have a gnu sentinel? Older than Pierre minor, bit rough looking, but apparently OK. He reported on Wednesday at 18:00, and who strolled in at the same time but Pierre! I never did find out why he did not come for five nights. He simply left without saying.

Small domestic tragedy last evening. Aida (who? -ed) ordered spaghetti, and when Laurie found out she asked to eat with me. Then, screams. 

The sauce was awful, and we figured out that Pierre had simply put the hamburger into the remnants of Christopher’s soup. I finished mine somehow, but you can imagine what Lou did with her full plate. At least the plate is still intact.

Must Report on Pan Am changes. Regional VPs have disappeared. There are now five “Division VPs”: Erskine Rice, NYC; Walt L Sasser, the rest of the USA; “Judge” Barnette (yes) LAD; Ed Swofford still PAC; and Jim Montgomery Europe, Africa, ME and India!  Vanished are Lloyd Wilson, Jack Lillis, Jerry O’Donnell, CC Moore and Bill Naylor – Kate talking at least for the moment. They may surface as sub Chiefs, who knows? JM finally got clobbered, but in a nice way, if it means as I would guess that his HQ will be LON. Some comedown!?

On the homefront (as you may have read) Nzuga, the Zaïrois Foreign Minister, is home in a huff, recalled by president Mobutu from Britain, where he was to pay a four-day state visit.

 Seems he was invited by Douglas Home while they were at the UN; he accepted and later arrived to be met by a foreign service “functionary of the third rank”, taken to his hotel in London, where he was forced to wait for four hours before his room could be made up.  Meanwhile, the Whitehall type disappeared, and it wasn’t until 6 PM that home telephone to invite him to spend the weekend in the country. Too late – he already phoned the chief, who declared publicly “it is time Britain learned that this is no longer the 19th century. Empires are finished”. Poor Mark Allen! All his good work undone.

Meanwhile, odd things are happening here. The government had pledged to repair four airports in the interior to enable them to accept the Caravelle, on the basis of which Bob signed the option to buy a Caravelle (we have been leasing them up to now).  Then the government found out that the work would cost at least 3 to 4 million Zaïre, if not more, so activity, the minister of transport, phoned Fokker in Holland, called their man down, and proposed to buy two F-28s  this year, two more in ‘73 and two more in ‘74. All this without a word to Air Zaïre   We found out from our American friends in the FAA. Yesterday Bob and I went to see the chef du Cabinet of the minister (who dodged us himself) to ask that our advice be sought before any decision is made. Oh yes, we were assured. Then Bob began looking for ambassador Vance and there the chapter ends.

Don’t forget some latches for the doors, OK? And would you get me a can of shaving cream? The electric razor is pretty bad. And a small (medium?) plastic bottle of Vitalis for traveling.

Bless you. You’re finally at your mother's, I guess, it being Friday. Have a loverly weekend. All is well here (I think!) Oh, and we miss you. Floyd misses you. Give grandmother our love. I love you so much.

 Russ 

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From Russell to Marjorie

From Kinshasa to California

October 9, 1972

My love,

Yesterday I redeemed the family honor by winning seven Zaïre from the three O’Neals.  I would have won more except that for the last hour or so they complained whenever I dropped out of a hand, so I tended to stay with bad cards. The remarkable part of the performance was that I was Not Well.  

That floating tooth of mine became infected, and simultaneously a problem developed on the other side of my mouth. Result was that both lymph glands were working furiously, and my jaw was swollen. Stephen, bless his heart, came back with two penicillin capsules after the game, and they worked wonders. Nonetheless, I better have that silly tooth out. It’s nothing but grief.

I’m sorry to add that Floyd is covered with mango worms on his tummy. He must have 20! So this morning Laurie (who has a holiday) is going to take him to a vet. Poor thing. He doesn’t seem to hurt but he’s very subdued, lies on the dining room chair all day and meows weakly. It didn’t help, of course, when yesterday morning he ran under my feet as I was striding down the hall and I stepped hard on his paw. Oh dear!

Laurie’s science project is television, and we spent a lot of time on that Saturday and Sunday.

Bruce is still with us. Chris gave 20 Zaïre to somebody to buy that gadget (I cannot ever remember its name, but it does something to the guitar sound) and was broken again, because I held back 15 Zaïre of the 35 he had coming, and said I’d continue to do that in order to save some money for him. He agreed 100% and said “only give me some if I tell you I need it urgently”. 

So Saturday noon he came out with a small army of friends, and asked for five days a year to have lunch at the Intercontinental and I said “no”. He and Lou took it surprisingly well. In fact they’re a bit cold, because I’ve come down on them hard this week. Sunday morning I found an unbelievable mess in the kitchen where they cooked, messed things up, left peanut butter and jam jars out open, bread sitting around etc. 

When Laurie finally got up I told her that was it, and from now on when I went to bed I was going to lock the kitchen and take the keys with me. So last evening they asked me, before leaving for the movies, if they should eat then or could they wait until they came home. I couldn’t understand the question until they reminded me that I threatened to lock them out of the kitchen. So I said OK, wait, and they did. This morning everything was in the sink, sort of rinsed and the kitchen looked quite decent.  Maybe there’s hope.

The president left for Addis Ababa, Dar-es-Saalam, and Nairobi Saturday morning, and Bill Wallace went with him, it having been decided that either he or Bob must go on every presidential trip. The DC-8 was scheduled to go to Addis and return that p.m., laying over here on till Monday, but at the last minute the president decided the plane must stay with him. So there was Bill, standing on the tarmac with nothing but a briefcase, leaving on a six day trip! What to do? He left.

Friday the government resigned. All the ministers are out until Mobutu returns, when presumably he’ll keep some, fire the others, shuffle them around etc. Have you ever?

We followed you this weekend, but you never seemed to be up. At noon you certainly weren’t. When the O’Neals arrived it seemed most unlikely, it being 7 a.m. your time. So you slept all day and we never did get to talk to you, but we thought about you. Did you sleep well?

Thank you for your postcard. Glad to find you were on schedule and the boys are fine. It took five days for the card to arrive, so I guess we better open a service to London. Today is the 9th, which means there are 11 days before you arrive and 18 until the boys come home. I hope we can avoid complete disaster during that time. I gave the new sentinel one Zaïre for the bus, and lent François ten Zaïre to pay his fine to the military. But I still have money. Do you? Hope so. I’m writing to G and L today. We miss you too much. I do love you. All of us send kisses and hugs. Will you write to us?

Your,

Russ

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From Marjorie to Russell

From California to Kinshasa

October 10, 1972

 Dearest ones,

Tuesday already. My reservations are made for next Wednesday. I’ll have to look out on BEA, but I have all day after all. I will be home on QC 311 Friday morning, 20th at 5:25. Happy anniversary!

Last Saturday we drove up to San Rafael for dinner with the Barlow’s. Very pleasant evening and lovely dinner. It was so nice to see them. Dick is in Algeria, but Linda hasn’t been able to join him because there is no place to live yet. She’s teaching school in North Carolina.

Sunday we went to Napa and had a simply marvelous lunch and visit. Mom and mother got along famously and it was thoroughly enjoyable. Jim very sweetly guided us back out of town onto the freeway. We got home just before dark. They are coming here Sunday p.m. and stay for dinner. They’ve called every evening and we chat. Mom goes to the doctor today about her arm.

I started with the doctor yesterday p.m. So far he can only suggest a little high blood pressure, cut down on salt. I’ve had x-rays, blood tests and cardiogram so far. One more test Thursday and a final appointment on Friday for a verdict. There isn’t anything wrong, but I might as well know that.

Company last night for dinner. Alta Williams. Haven’t seen her for 30 years. Tonight people in for dessert. We’re going shopping shortly. Did a little yesterday. Julie has called several times. She really is not as happy as she sometimes thinks. She has lots of friends.

It promised rain yesterday but today is bright so far. I’ve been away a week. We think and talk about you all the time. It’s been so much fun to be with Claire and Jim. I can tell you all about it when I get home. Just wanted you to know I’m thinking of you and I will probably be home almost as soon as you’ve read this.

I love you very much,

Marjorie mother

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From Russell to Marjorie

From Kinshasa to California

October 11, 1972

Dearest one,

OK yesterday Joe Gott's secretary called to ask what I wanted done with my Telex to SFO since it seemed a bit outdated. Which telex? I asked. The one advising Gellinger of your arrival. She claims it arrived in her office October 9, some 10 to 12 days after I sent it over! I wonder what happened when you got to SFO? Guess you had to phone Claire and wait. No point in even asking my hapless secretary what she did with the envelope, I’m sure. Poor you.

We are surviving. Laurie has beaucoup homework—a book report, a history report and this morning a history test, for which she was not well prepared since she (and I) started studying the three chapters only last night! She half wanted to stay home today but I said no and she wasn’t really serious anyway. The other night she and I worked together on her book report, which is based on Bury my Heart at Wounded Knee, and after a couple of hours of conversation she said “you know, I can hardly remember the last time we had a talk”.  She was quite right, probably not since New York or the early days here. I was touched.

Chris was off at 8:15 with Floyd to the vet, to get rid of more worms, of which he still has a few. Then he’ll pick up Eleanor to go to the library. Bruce went with Lou, so he’ll already be there. I do hope between Eleanor and Chris I’ll get something to read!

Bob is busy flipping back-and-forth from airport to town and finally Monday afternoon we caught him and obliged him to approve the winter schedule, which was virtually identical to the ones submitted to him last July 1. So tonight we’re having to send a man to LON to hand carry the schedule so as to make sure it’s in the hands of the ABC ginde before the October 15 deadline. The other day (Mon. a.m.) Monsieur Isiaka came by, and while he was here one of my people reminded me that we have thousands of tickets stuck at the printers in Milan for one of Zaïre's government approval to import them . . . 

And it was believed that Bob Bell had asked Isiaka over a month ago to get approval from the national bank for these and for more than $200,000 worth of Fokker spares, which have been desperately required here. 

When I brought this up he exploded, saying that in August he’d had Bob sign just such a request, but on following up with the bank they admitted they had lost it, but said if a copy was sent over they’d approve it immediately. Isiaka said he told Bob that, and Bob said fine . . . 

But this afternoon when I recounted that to Bob, leaving out the bit about Isiaka, having told him, it was Bob’s turn to explode. He’s never heard of it, he said, and somehow everyone was to blame.  Meanwhile, however, no spare parts and no tickets for a month (well, tickets, but not very many). Is this anyway to run . . . ?

Well have you shopped, shopped, shopped? I should imagine. And partied? I’ll bet. Are you going to make any little two or three day trips to someplace like Tahoe? How is your weather?

Today’s is overcast here, and the other night it rained. It seems to me that there should be a letter from you by now, may be arriving today on Pan Am from New York. If you’ve written, that is. But considering that your mother’s letter was postmarked September 25 and reached me October 3, I don’t know.

John Fitzgerald of Boeing is back, disappointed that you didn’t stop in Rome, but I told him you were afraid the Colosseum would collapse on you. You have read about all that. I got the Tribs very late now so I’m about a week behind on any news and it’s killing me, because the Red Sox and the Tigers were in their final series for the pennant last week and I still don’t know who won. Do you watch TV at all? I think you’ll miss the World Series, it’s very late this year. Let’s see, you’ll leave SFO on the 18th or the 19th? Didn’t you say you’d come straight through? Then it's the 19th. But don't miss connects! Have a lovely time. We all think of you and send you all our love.

Your,

Russ

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From Geoff to parents

From Berkeley to Montreal

November 16, 1976

Here’s the famous novelist sitting down at the typewriter and pounding out a new novel at the incredible speed of . . .  Wait for it. . . Eight words per minute. The onlookers gas with amazement and admiration as his hands skim effortlessly over the keys, producing a flawless copy every time . . . Well . . . er . . . Not quite perfect exactly but still, unbelievably fast . . . wellllllllll, not that fast, but pretty fast, or, at least, faster than some although a bit slow compared to others, in fact, slowish by any standards but still . . . Well, rather slow actually, miserably slow, depressingly slow . . . An aging snail could do better . . . An arthritic and could beat him easily . . . Never in the history of the typewriter has anyone been so SLOW . . . (I’ll practice)

I’m sitting at the table with 11 books in front of me—the readings for this week! Well, just selections of each but a sizable amount nonetheless. My first oral report was well received; I’m due to give another next week. Despite the fact that our class meets on what would be Thursday of Thanksgiving, the professor has artfully managed to persuade us to meet earlier in the week.  He is unprincipled. I’m going to the gallon jurors on the 24th for fowl.

The other day we went down to San Jose to see Christine's friends from Germany. The last time we saw them, their little baby was still in the crib. Now it walks around and talks in a mixture of German and English, just as we must have done. We brought her a fluffy dog, and she had fun wrapping and unwrapping it for hours. So there is something to Bill Cosby’s observation that when you buy kids hundreds of dollars worth of toys, they invariably playing with the boxes. 

I don’t remember if I told you that, earlier in the quarter, Cindy called me from Colorado. She called again yesterday. She’s probably called you by now; I forgot to give you her number in the first time. Here is (303) 444-7344.  I was thinking of going out to see her at Thanksgiving but the Gallenger is persuaded me to come there and go at the end of the quarter instead. I still may, but Christine and others say it’s a difficult drive if the weather is anything but good. If I did, I would then come home about 20 December. I was trying to get her to come to Montreal but I don’t think she can afford it. (editor’s note – Montreal? We were not living there until 1976 – did Geoff mistype the year?)

Berkeley has a program called Cal in the capital which place is about 75 students in federal and private summer jobs in Washington each year. I’ve been thinking of applying for this summer, trying to get along or diplomacy related position. Last week they held the Pacific pre-law conference here at Berkeley in which deans and admissions people from law schools all over the country, and talked interested students. I talked to about 10 of them, including Harvard and Yale. Their main criterion for admission appears to be performance on the LSAT, so I’ll have to work hard preparing to take it (probably in September of next year). My English prof from last Porter is encouraging me to go on to get a PhD in English; he says my manner and resources are exactly those needed! But the job prospects and academia look very depressing; supply doubles command. Still, it’s a possibility which I’ll keep in mind

I better get back to Cicero. Christine’s going out dancing, leaving me to slave away alone. Oh well, we’ll see who gets in where when application time comes around: the grasshopper or the slow typist.

I love you,

Geoffrey

Grandfather in World War II: A History For Milo: Part III—Gunnery Training

Beginnings

magine, if you will, a bottle of hot sauce, about six inches tall.

Imagine that instead of hot chili sauce, the bottle is filled with liquid mercury—a very heavy metal—mixed about equally with gasoline.

Now instead of the red plastic bottle top imagine a titanium cone packed with dynamite  and sharpened to a needle-sharp point and polished to a mirror finish.

If the whole thing were a little smaller it would be called a bullet; a little bigger and it would be called a bomb.

This is a Browning fifty-caliber machine-gun cartridge.

By itself, it is a devastating package of destruction that is designed to tear through metal like a giant, white-hot nail, with a small explosive in its tip that goes off after the nail has pierced through the layers of steel and leather and glass or whatever else it encounters as it ploughs through its target.

But this machine gun cartridge is not designed to be by itself. It's designed to be in a belt with hundreds of other cartridges, all fired so quickly that they sound like the frantic buzz of some unspeakable insect and act like a lethal fire hose, wreaking devastation on airplanes and human beings alike, along with anything else that happens to be in their way.

The Browning 50-caliber machine gun was the preferred weapon for the Army Air Force, and was deployed in all airplanes, large and small, from the B-17, B-24 and B-29s to all manner of fighter aircraft.

German Field Marshal of the Air Force Hermann Göring was to observe ruefully after the war: "If we had had the Browning 50-caliber, the war would have turned out differently."

Differently indeed. For Grandfather Russell, his introduction to the Browning and gunnery training took him from sunny Florida to even sunnier Yuma, Arizona, just seven miles from the border with Mexico.

Clark Gable, here in a publicity shot while undergoing Gunnery Training

"It looked like something out of an old Western," said Russell, as he remembered the town where he went to gunnery school. "They had mostly unpaved roads, and the buildings were Mexican style, like cantinas, with the roofs sloping over the sidewalks." It seems to be a mostly fond memory of the period he spent, like so many others of his age in 1943, preparing to master the tools of their awful trade: the art of war.

The gunnery training took place over about six weeks. 

In just the first week the trainees were overwhelmed by a blitz of data about machine guns and ammunition, which they would be required to memorize. They learned proper maintenance and cleaning; how to tear down and reassemble the guns as fast as possible.

They practiced clearing jams quickly as if their lives depended on it, because it did. If a gun jammed at 28,000 feet with an enemy pilot boring in for the kill, you needed to be fast. Very fast . In fact, everyone had to achieve proficiency at stripping his gun while blindfolded and wearing gloves. 

The reason for wearing gloves was obvious: it was frigidly cold at bombing altitudes—as much as 60 degrees below zero over Europe. If the gunner touched his machine gun with bare skin it would freeze to the metal.

But why blindfolded? "It’s difficult to look straight down and see what you’re doing while zipped up to the neck in a bulky flight suit," Russell explains, "with goggles and an oxygen mask covering your face."

Bouncing around in turbulent air didn’t make it any easier to see what you were doing. Better to keep your eyes on the skies too so you could watch for "bogeys"—the flyboy slang for unidentified flying aircraft.

Two Waist Gunners squeezed together in the fuselage of a B-24 in flight

Every night after shooting for most of the day they loaded ammunition into belts, then loaded the belts into cans that fit the turrets which they would be shooting the next day. Each box of 350 rounds weighed 100 pounds and the 50-calibers had voracious appetites—firing 750 rounds per minute, or over twelve rounds per second.

Mixed in with all the firing range practice and the mechanical training of assembly and disassembly came the learning of the complex physics of air-to-air gunnery. "Deflection" became the Word du Jour. "The newspaper boy on the bike trying to hit the porch while the bike is moving was the analogy they used to help visualize the tracks of the bullet stream," Russell says. And that was only the beginning of it: there were fundamentals to successful aiming which, rather like a golf swing, could be mastered only through practice, practice, practice.

It's not known exactly which gun Grandfather Russell would have used during actual missions. Various sources say the the Radioman "when needed, manned the second waist gun," or "Added duty:  Qualified as Top Turret Gunner." But in gunnery school, one didn't train for any particular position; one just trained for any possible position.

All the gun positions had their vulnerabilities. The waist gunners, the ones on the sides of the aircraft, basically shoved their guns through massive holes in the side of the fuselage. They "had the unfortunate distinction of being in the most dangerous spot on the plane," says Mike Weber¹, whose father was a waist gunner on a B-24 from the 360th Bomb Group. "The waist gunner position suffered the most casualties compared to the other crew positions. It was the least well-protected position, both from the enemy and the elements. Frostbite was a major concern." The wind howled through the large holes in the sides, frequently below -60°C/-76°F. "It was an emergency door you couldn't shut."

Disassembling the "Ma Deuce"

Unlike the nose, ball, and tail turrets, whose gunners got rid of empty .50 caliber cartridges—each one the size of a man's thumb—through slots in the floor or into holding bins, the floor around the waist gunners filled up amazingly quickly with spent shells during attacks. The gunners sometimes used a shovel just to clear a place to stand.

But the radio operator also had to know how to operate the top turret, which meant he had to know the function of every switch, knob, button, lever and handle that were all essential to the running of the turret, which rotated while enabling the twin 50-caliber guns to raise and lower. The turret was essentially a small, entirely self-sufficient little fort that provided—if used as directed—a lethal stream of firepower that theoretically covered the entire sky and provided almost half the total armed protection for the bomber and its crew.

Much of the manipulation of switches and connections had to be performed blindfolded in a final exam. If the turret malfunctioned, the bomber’s defences were weakened. If the turret door or opening could not be aligned with the opening or escape hatch, the man inside had to know how to fix it; or else he could forget about escape in an emergency.

Shoot 'Em Up

Russell Robinson, on leave; location, time unknown

With so much classroom instruction, the students may have begun to wonder if you got to shoot guns at gunnery school. Finally they had their chance. There were four basic phases of target shooting and each was progressively more difficult.

At first, they would fire from stationary positions at fixed targets and then moving targets. After a few weeks of working through these phases the students advanced to firing at moving targets from moving platforms, first on the ground, and then air-to-air target shooting in a plane.

Russell started out skeet shooting, then moved on to pistols. "I was quite good at skeet shooting," Russell says, his voice brightening with the memory, " . . . quite good. And then we did pistol shooting with .45 automatics, on a range. And then we did rifle shooting, and that's where I got the Sharpshooter medal (the U.S. military marksmanship qualification badges are awarded in three grades: Expert, Sharpshooter, and Marksman) that you have. Because I was very good at the pistol and the rifle.

"And the sergeant who examined me at the range told me, 'You're about this close,'" (here Russell holds up his thumb and forefinger to indicate a very small space) " . . . this far from Expert. In fact you're so close that I'm gonna put you in for Expert.' And he talked to the lieutenant who was in charge of the detail, and he said 'This man here got a 98.2 on this and he's so close to Expert . . .' —and the lieutenant interrupts and says 'If he DIDN'T GET IT HE DIDN'T GET IT!' . . . so I didn't get the Expert, I got the Sharpshooter."

Eventually Russell was moved into planes. "The first thing they did was take us up, in what I believe was a DC-4. The military called it with another number, naturally, but I believe it was a DC-4. (The military called it the Douglas C-54 Skymaster, which was a rugged 4-engined workhorse that would become the first presidential aircraft, nicknamed "The Sacred Cow" and flown for Franklin D. Roosevelt, and then go on after the war to be used by commercial airlines that carried more passengers than any other 4-engined transport, remaining in use until 2014.)

"They took a gang of us up in a plane that had had the seats ripped out of it and I think the idea was to see if any of us got airsick. I don't know if anybody did, but I didn't. So I passed that test."

C-54 Skymaster "Sacred Cow," flown for FDR

Learning to fire and maintain machine guns and turrets was only part of becoming an aerial gunner. It was critical that gunners were proficient in split second identification of both enemy and friendly aircraft.

“If you can’t do it, you are potentially as dangerous as an enemy gunner,” according to Byron Lane, bombardier with the 392nd Bomb Group. “All it takes is one mistake to shoot down one of your own planes or assume an enemy plane is one of your own and get shot down yourself,”  he said. Consequently, students could expect intensive study of aircraft identification and recognition.

Students received manuals that pictured the silhouettes of every aircraft in operation—both enemy and ally—and instructors pointed out the variations in prominent features such as the number of engines, wing position, tail assembly, canopy, and more. Since the future gunners didn’t know to which combat theatre they would be assigned, they had to know them all—German, Japanese, Italian, Russian, British, and American—all 27 of them. Using 3-D models and cards with silhouettes, students were called on to compare and contrast the features of aircraft until identification was automatic.

At the end of the sixth week, ceremonies were held to honour the graduating gunners. The graduates received diplomas and the coveted silver wings of the U.S. Army Air Force. Privates, Techs, and Corporals received promotions to the rank of sergeant, an incentive offered to encourage volunteerism. The graduates also received the arms qualifications badges they had earned, based on their test scores: Expert Aerial Gunner, Aerial Sharpshooter, or Aerial Marksman.

Russell, if you'll remember, was told he was a hair away from getting the Expert qualification by a lieutenant, but the lieutenant was overruled by an officious prick of a senior officer and received the next-highest rank of Sharpshooter.

Russell's Sharpshooter medal

And now the big next step was coming . . . from gunnery school the new aerial gunners would be sent to combat crew training school. Here they would meet the their new crew—the men with whom they would be going to fight the war; the men who would become like a family to them. Russell would be meeting Mose and Leo and Joe, although he didn't know it yet. 

And then they would all together  spend three months flying practice missions and getting ready to join the massive battles of the Second World War, although Russell didn't even know where he'd be going: Europe or the Pacific.

The pressure was on for Russell; indeed, the pressure was on for all of them, these men who were preparing to do battle in an unpressurised world.

To be continued

¹ With many thanks to Mike Weber for portions of his website tribute to his father

Grandfather in World War II: A History For Milo: Part II

 or Grandfather Russell Joseph Robinson, the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbour changed “everything,” but things didn’t happen right away.

“At first I didn’t realise how hugely everything had changed on December 7,” Grandfather remembered, “but a few months later, the Air Corps—” here he winked conspiratorially—” . . . the Army Air Corps, came around to recruit, and I volunteered.”

He took the exam, and it was then that he found out for the first time in his life that he was colour-blind. “I was 20 years old, and I couldn’t read the Red-Green colour chart.”

He was told that because of this, he was “debarred” from becoming a flight officer, meaning a pilot, a co-pilot, bombardier or a navigator; all those positions were off the table for him. He was a little disappointed, because he had thought it would be “ . . . fun to be a pilot, y’know, but there was no pressure to join up, or anything.”

“Because if you were in college at that time, as I was, at Harvard, you were not ‘drafted’ (forced to join the armed forces). But people that I knew were in the Service, and the more the war went on, the worse I felt.”

Dunster House, Harvard University

He felt that the war was passing him by. “I was going from Dunster House (his house at Harvard) to class, and studying, while these other kids were going overseas and battles were raging, and the Germans almost took Cairo, and they took France, and they took Norway, and the Japanese took all those islands in the Western Pacific . . .” his voice trails off.

“I was conscious of the fact that when I walked down the street, in my suit or jacket—because you didn’t wear ‘sports shirts’ then because of the war—people would look at me and maybe be saying, ‘That young fellow looks healthy enough . . . why isn’t he in the Service?”

In Dunster House, he explained, there were staying a number of people from across the world: from France, England, South America, Columbia, Brazil, Venezuela. They were there attending a fine university, but also escaping the military draft from their various countries. Some of them made no bones about it. “They were saying, ‘We don’t want to be fighting anybody in this war,’” Grandfather says. “But I felt very different.”

He had signed up with what they called the Enlisted Reserve, so he “activated his status,” then being ordered, along with the appropriate papers, to Camp Upton, Long Island. 

One of the first things they did there, he remembers, is that they gave him an IQ test.

 He took the exam, and it was then that he found out for the first time in his life that he was colour-blind

“I took it,” he says, “and I scored 148. 140 was Genius Level, and they were terribly impressed,” he says, with emphasis. “And then you had to give them all your personal details, your background; etc. etc. And so they decided,  with all the work I’d done with the theater—singing, acting and announcing; that sort of thing—that I should be assigned to Special Services, which apparently was the Drama and Entertainment branch at the time.”

So in January, 1943, a a year and a month after Pearl Harbour was attacked, Grandfather Russell was shipped off to Miami, Florida, where he was “assigned” to the Cadillac Hotel, which had been taken over by the U.S. Army Air Corps, and which overlooked the beach amid a row of other luxury hotels.

“I was put in a room with three other guys, whose names I can’t remember, but I met a couple of Hollywood actors, like Edmond O’Brien, who was a big star at the time. We chatted. 

"Clark Gable had been through, in Special Services, a few weeks before me.” (Clark Gable was possibly the biggest film star in the world at the time, and he flew five combat missions, including one to Germany, before MGM, the film company who was his boss, managed to get him removed from any dangerous duties for the rest of the war. Grandfather was not so lucky.)

Cadillac Hotel, Miami Beach

They began to drill (practice marching and running while in formation, which is thought to create discipline and develop automatic behaviours that are supposed to be helpful when under fire in combat) “ . . . up and down Collins Avenue, hup-hup-hup, and drill in the nearby park, I remember. Drill, drill, drill, hup-hup-hup.”

Then, because he was in Special Services, which was already a somewhat unusual branch of the armed forces, he was assigned various tasks: “I was assigned to do some radio dramas, with a bunch of other guys who had been actors . . . I played a German Nazi in one of them. And the director, who was from Broadway (Broadway was a very popular form of entertainment at the time, consisting of elaborate stage (live) performances of large groups of actors, dancers and singers, in the Broadway district of New York) was very impressed with my performance, and he told me so.”

In addition, Grandfather Russell did “ . . . quite a lot of singing. I sang to the troops! There would be thousand of them out there and I’d be there with the microphone and I’d sing Begin the Beguine, or Old Man River or whatever.”

“I also entertained for the chaplains (Catholic priests) and sometimes sang at Mass.”

So the months went by and Grandfather Russell was involved with various projects—but he seemed to be getting nowhere, fast.

"There was some big talk about how the Air Corps (it wasn't known as the Air Force yet) was going to make this big Broadway show—'Winged Victory,' they were going to call it. Edmond O'Brien was going to be in that one. The Army had one on already, called 'This Is The Army.' I don't know if the Navy had one planned or not!"

He used to kill time between his singing and acting by hanging around on the beach, as everyone else did. He got so tanned by being in the sun that one day he got on a bus and the bus driver, who was white, asked Grandfather Russell to lift the strap up off his wristwatch so the bus driver could look underneath.

"If, as he suspected, I was Black, I would have been told to get to the back of the bus. That's how dark I was!"

So as the time wore on and Grandfather Russell seemed to be getting nowhere fast, he finally approached one of his commanding officers. "I asked him, how do I get on Active Duty? He told me, 'You are on Active Duty.' I said, No sir, I mean active duty. Combat duty.'

"So he said, 'Well, It's not a matter of choice. You go where the Army tells you to go and do what the Army tells you to do.'

Amy Air Corps Radio school textbook cover

"So I said I didn't want to spend the rest of the war doing what I was doing, and if they insisted that I keep doing what I was doing then, sure, I'd sing, just not very in tune, and I'd act sure enough—I'd act just like a living room coffee table.

"So, he finally saw the light."

His superiors, confronted by this unwilling showman, pulled his records to see what they could do with him. They reaffirmed that he was not qualified to be in a cockpit because he was colour-blind.

"But then they gave me a test, which was a sound test. They played what sounded to me something like 'Deet-de-deet-deet-de-deet-deet'—that kind of thing, just a series of tones. So I took that test along with a number of other people, and it turned out that it was a test for radio operators; and I got a phenomenal score, because I was a musician, and I had a good ear!"

And forthwith, Grandfather Russell was informed that he was assigned to Radio School. 

"I hopped on a train, with orders, and reported to Sioux Falls, South Dakota, to a camp that was somewhere outside town.

 "And for some peculiar reason—they trained 24 hours a day—I hooked the midnight shift.

"So every night for six, eight, ten weeks—I suppose they gave you a night off, but I don't recall—you'd go in there, and put your headsets on, and they'd teach you Morse Code.

Amy Air Corps Radio school textbook introduction page

"First you'd learn all the letters—painstakingly—from A to Z, and then you'd begin to get . . . the 'I LOVE YOU'-kind of messages, and you'd try to write them down. And then they'd have a sentence, and you'd try to write that down."

"And then they'd increase the speed, until the speed was up to  twenty-five, thirty words a minute.

"So finally, I passed, and I was told that I was to proceed—to Gunnery School."

To be continued

Grandfather in World War II: A History For Milo: Part I

Sergeant Russell J. Robinson, 1944

n December, 1941, Grandfather was nineteen years old. On December 7th of that year—now almost exactly 79 years ago—Japan attacked America’s main naval base in the Pacific ocean at Pearl Harbor, Hawaii.

At that time the war in Europe had been going on for over two years; Germany had attacked many countries and had even invaded and occupied some, like France. Germany had even attacked the biggest country in the world at the time, the Soviet Union (now Russia) in June of 1941, so the Germans were fighting a war on two fronts—in the East against the Soviet Union and then in the West, all the other countries in Europe, especially against England, who were holding out almost alone on their tiny island.

The main thing that had stopped the Germans from invading England (also known as Great Britain and nowadays mostly called the UK, or United Kingdom) was that small stretch of water that separated England from France—the English Channel, only 22 miles wide at its narrowest point.

The reason the Germans couldn’t cross the English Channel was mainly because the German Air Force, which they called the Luftwaffe, (meaning “Sky forces”) hadn’t defeated the English air forces. If they had tried to cross the English Channel, their boats would have been attacked by the English planes and sunk.

Invasion

At that time, invasions of countries by water—either the ocean, or a sea, or even just a river—was very difficult, because you had to have air superiority above all, but then you had to have huge numbers of ships and boats to carry all the soldiers, because the soldiers of the country being invaded would only have to put lots of guns all along their coast and shoot all sorts of bombs onto the invasion fleet’s boats to stop them from invading.

In military thinking they like to say that any invader’s armies have to outnumber the country being invaded’s army by three to one, meaning that the invaders had to have three times as many men, as well as all the weapons, and of course, all those men had to be fed, and they had to have tents and supplies and ammunition for their guns and all that stuff took a LOT of planning and organising. So behind the army that was invading a country there had to be another army which was carrying all the supplies for the invading army; plus, lots of men (there were no women soldiers in the American forces) whose job it was just to organise the whole thing, because if you didn’t have people who were doing all the planning then the soldiers would not have known what to do when they finished invading the target country.

So at the time that Japan attacked Pearl Harbour, the American forces—the Army, Navy, and the Air Force (which was at that time actually part of the Army—but more on that later) were a lot smaller than Germany’s and even Japan’s, because in the years before World War II there was a huge segment of American people who just didn’t want to get into any war. World War One had just finished less than 20 years before and of course lots of people could remember it very well, and lots of men had even fought in it. So they all didn’t want to get back into another war, especially in Europe, because they felt that the people in Europe were always starting wars and they just didn’t want to have to go and fight another war, because they figured that they had just finished one and were just tired of it.

But luckily, the president of America at that time, whose name was Franklin D. Roosevelt (pronounced “Rose-velt”) and whom everyone just called “FDR,” had begun to get worried that sooner or later, if the Germans somehow defeated England—which would have meant that the Germans would now be the rulers of all of Europe—then America would have to get involved.

FDR had many reasons why he didn’t like the Germans, but a lot of it was that the ruler of Germany, Adolf Hitler, was determined to kill anyone who he thought was not as smart or as strong as the Germans. This meant he wanted to kill all the Jewish people, all the Black people, and other people who weren’t White or did not have the same religion as the Germans. Back at that time, religion was much more important in the world and most Americans and Europeans would go to church once a week or so and would celebrate Christian holidays like Easter and Christmas and lots of smaller religious days each year.

So FDR realised that he didn’t want the Germans to control Europe, and now Hitler was even threatening the Soviet Union, and at that time, in December 1941, it looked a lot like the Germans might completely defeat the Soviets, which would have meant that only England, that tiny island on the Atlantic coast, would be the only country that would not be ruled by Adolf Hitler and his soldiers, who were called Nazis.

At the same time, from around 1935 or so, Japan, which had been becoming more and more militarised, meaning they had made their Army and Navy and Air Force much stronger than normal, and invaded China and were now threatening to invade lots of other countries in Asia, like Vietnam and Thailand and even India, so FDR had begun building up the strength of the American armed forces starting in about 1939.

One way of doing that was by having a "draft," which meant that when boys became 18 years old they were automatically put into the Armed Forces, where they were usually, but not always, allowed to choose what "branch" they wanted to join.

Grandfather wanted to be a pilot, but because he didn't pass a test called the "Color Blindness Test"—which mean that a person can't properly see certain colours, usually red or green. If you fail that test, it usually means that you can't be a pilot.

Can you see the numbers in this picture?

Russell The Radio Operator

When Pearl Harbour happened on December 7, 1941, Russell  was a 19-year-old student at Harvard University when " . . . a friend and I were waiting for two girls at an Emerson College rooming building and there was a radio in the hall, and it was about noon . . . and the radio announcer was saying 'And a Japanese fleet has bombed Pearl Harbour!' blah blah blah, and I remember saying to myself 'Where is that?'—I had no idea—'Is that Manila?'"

Russell remembers, in a 1999 interview: "Everything—everything—changed on December 7, 1941."

To be continued

The Letters—Part 4: San Francisco, September 23 - December 27, 1951

Marjorie marries Russ and they move in together into a nice little apartment in the City . . . with Paul. 

Yes, the newlyweds somehow think it's appropriate to share their first apartment together with a man named Paul, who seems to have no credentials other than being "a writer"—imagine that! Does he write screenplays? Dark novels set in and around the seamy underbelly of  San Francisco's tawdry Mission and Tenderloin districts, haunting The Apartment by day but donning his fedora and raincoat to prowl the alleyways by night?

WE DON'T KNOW! And that makes everything just so much more fun . . .

September 23, 1951
Marjorie to her father, John Reed—Brazil

D'you know, just three weeks from Monday you'll be here, and just four weeks from yesterday I'll be married—26 days more—and something more—people I want most to come will be there—my whole dear family—and maybe Louise and Jack—and maybe Mr. Puckett! Mother & Helen are truly on their way today in our cute little green Studebaker. 

Tonight Russ & I are going after the keys to the apartment—our apartment. 

It's wonderful, Daddy, four nice big rooms and a little storeroom off the kitchen. I'm so pleased. Two big front rooms plus the bedroom & a nice kitchen, and it has plenty of light—and a balcony!! Can you imagine—$62. So much nice room. We can truly have company. 

And we have so many beds: a double, 2 singles & I do believe there's a bed in the living room closet. There's lots of nice closet space which will be wonderful.

October 21

Marjorie to her parents, Louise & John Reed—Brazil

Carmel, California

Such a lovely place Carmel is. We got here a little after dark last night, and after a couple of Old Fashioneds we had probably the most wonderful filet I've ever tasted. It's so lovely here.

Beautiful blue Pacific and all the lovely trees. Just like the movies or whatever you'll "imagine. Today we walked along the beach for a couple of hours. All the lovely homes they have here. It's such a quaint little town. . . .

Such a lovely wedding and breakfast you gave us. It was all so perfect and beautiful, something to always treasure.

Here we go with the detailed information. 

Russ is reading the paper, the radio (naturally) is going full blast & it's nearly one-thirty. Can't quite hear the ocean, but we can imagine its roar, 'cause we heard it all afternoon. Walking along the beach was really a treat. 

The Pacific was acting up just as the Atlantic in Rio acts, dashing upon the shore. One home we saw just being built is actually constructed on the prow of a ship jutting out into the ocean . . . it was quite novel and lovely. 

Imagine sitting by a fire and hearing the waves dash up against the front window!!! Honestly, we walked nearly four miles, because after we went back for the car we clocked our walk and it amounted to 1 and 9/10ths. 

We even watched the sun sink into the sea. Quite a beautiful sight because it simply sank within a matter of two minutes. We could see it disappear. 

Last night when the little man brought us into the cabin, on the dresser was a lovely bouquet of flowers. It was with congratulations and best wishes from Andrew Lerios Travel Agency. He was the one (Andy Lerios) who treated us to a bottle of champagne when he found out we were engaged, and through whom we got the reservations for the Highlands Inn. 

We had our breakfast in Carmel this morning, and then we walked around the town. It's most charming, full of little shops which in turn are full of interesting things. Truly we're having such a good time. The whole atmosphere is conducive to complete relaxation, quiet and lovely, and the food is out of this world. 

The thing that positively tickles me to death is the name they affix to each cabin. All so Scottish it hurts. Ours, of all things, is "Macbeth." They surely couldn't have truly been thinking when they named it that!!! with the radio off and the front window open we can hear the ocean roaring upon the shore. It's really quite a way down so you must know it's truly beating upon the “rock bound” coast of California. 

Tomorrow we must take the 17 Mile Drive around Pebble Beach and Monterey. We only walked today. But we must have been very tired because we didn't waken until nearly noon today, and I thought it was early in the morning. 

Such a relaxing vacation we shall have, not having to do anything, or go anywhere, or do what should be done 'cause there's nothing to be done. I'm so happy and completely at ease with the whole wide world.

November 3rd

Marjorie to her parents, Louise & John Reed—Boise, Idaho

San Francisco

It's such a beautiful day, so warm and sunny and lovely. Sorry I have to work. It must be lovely out of the City too. 

Everyone is on the street in short sleeves and no coats. Looks like spring rather than fall. 

Russ brought me some violets, so I rather think it must be spring. He stayed home today with his cold, except for a little while around noon. Long enough for coffee and work & lunch—odds and ends to catch up. . . .

Russ got breakfast for me this morning, and I got to work on time. Tonite we're going up to Joyce & Dave's for a little while. They haven't seen Russ since he got back from New York and the friend through whom they met spent quite a bit of time with Russ while he was back there.

November 6

Saturday evening we spent with Dave and Joyce—not too long did we stay though because Russ has truly been sick, running a temperature, coughing, sneezing and not able to talk. We've doctored and doctored and have kept him in bed most of the weekend. 

Now I'll get it, and we can go through it all over again. 

Sunday, though it seems I've written it to you already, Russ got breakfast and brought it to me. Then I made him go back to bed while I cleaned the house.

I truly cleaned it too. It looks so well, and we hung the pictures. Took a nap, and then went out to Henrietta's for the nite. 

Russ's friend from New York came in Sunday nite, so we visited with him for hours. He's a very charming fellow. I like him. His name is Paul Hourihan. Russ spent some time with him when he was in New York. We stayed all night out there, and yesterday washed clothes like mad, as well as my hair and everything in sight. 

Kept Russ in bed 'til evening after dinner, and then we went to the show before going on home.

November 7

Last night we went home for a dinner of wieners and sauerkraut, peas and carrots, salad and coffee. 

Bill & Russ were properly impressed. I'm pretty smart, I guess. 

Rushed around this noon to Breuner's and the bank. Made arrangements to pay Breuner's a little at a time. I did make a down payment of $300. Now I have about $575 altogether & Russ will pay the rest of the Breuners bill. 

We opened an account at the bank, and I sign my name Marjorie R. Robinson at the banker's suggestion. Joint account Marjorie R. & Russell. We're going out to the Montgomerys tonite.

Think the heat will do us both good. Maybe Nussbaum will break down before too long & turn the heat on for the buildlng. We actually had a little hot water last night. I enjoyed entertaining just the little bit I did last night so much.

November 13

Marjorie to her parents, Louise & John Reed—Chicago

The Counter has been just busy enough to make it interesting today—not many people, but consistent traffic. 

I must have spent nearly 3 hours this morning helping an RTW passenger figure his flight schedules from Singapore to Djakarta, Soerabaja, Palembang, Rangoon, Mandalay, Delhi, Calcutta and Teheran to Baghdad. Quite entertaining.

By the time we finished I was all ready to go along with him. He was a nice old man. 

I worked yesterday as I told you. Six of the eighteen hours that are to be worked into training for us this week are gone thusly. 

Russ is an excellent lecturer. Everyone was quite impressed with his fluency & delivery & I was proud of him. 

Last night we stayed at home, and read, fooled around with a crossword puzzle, and that was that, nothing of import. Tonite we may go to a show, but I'm not too much in favor of it. I simply cannot get interested in movies, at least until I'm inside one. No prior interest, shall we say. . . 

My cold is still a cold, no doubt about that. Scares everyone half to death the way I cough, but I don't really feel too badly. Russ is almost over his. We've both been getting quite a lot of sleep, nearly eight or more hours every night. Russ says he's getting too much, but I notice he never objects when I say I'm going to bed. He always is there before me.

November 15

I finally broke down yesterday and went to the doctor about my headaches. She gave me some medicine for my head and my cold. I liked her very much. 

Tuesday night Russ prevailed upon me to go to the show. We saw a British movie "Seven Days to Noon." It was truly excellent, and despite the fact I didn't want to go I was glad we went. 

Yesterday was just a day of work & last night I went up to the apartment while Russ went to the Sales Executives meeting at the Yacht Club. 

We spent the rest of the evening with Paul, the writer friend from New York. He's a most interesting person. I like him very much, a fine person, very intense as you might expect a writer to be. 

We talked until nearly one, and then of course we were headed out to the Montgomerys, so it was a little late when we finally got to bed. The very first really late night actually that we've (or I) have indulged. Russ says he's getting entirely too much sleep, waste of good hours that he could put to instructive reading purposes. (P.S. I'm driving Russ slowly to distraction by calling him Jim, short for Jim Teddy Bear, my toy and plaything. Ducky fits when he needs a haircut, and truly, it's so fun to tease him).

November 16

Marjorie to her parents, Louise & John Reed—Columbia

We had the most enjoyable time with the Murphys last nite. First we met them at the Sir Francis Drake for cocktails, then we decided to have dinner while we were there, on the Starlite Roof. We took them out to the Cow palace for the Ice Show, and then drove here home.

November 17

Marjorie to her parents, Louise & John Reed—Kansas

Today is Sunday. I've rather liked it. The fact is, out of all the people in the world who don't like Sundays, I must be different, 'cause I like it. 

It hasn't been a really stimulating day, and the skies are rather dull. We slept 'til almost 10:30. Last night we brought Joyce home with us for dinner and then we went bowling. Russell won. His game beats me. I can't find the spot!!! The highest score I made was 135. Pretty sad, isn't it? . . . 

Russ wanted to go to the show. We saw "Kind Lady" with Maurice Evans and Ethel Barrymore. It depressed me, but the performances were excellent. We got home from the show about 8:30, and Russ is reading. Washed Russ's hair, but he got quite stuffy and wouldn't let me put it up on bobby pins.

November 19

Marjorie to her parents, Louise & John Reed—Chicago

We've been up for so very long. Got up this morning to meet the Montgomerys. The plane was even a little early, so we just made it. 

We walked in one door as they walked in the other. They seemed quite glad to see us. It was raining and it could have been quite an inconvenience if we hadn't been there. 

Drove home and had breakfast. Then after we finally got organized we packed all our stuff into the car and started out on our busy day. 

We licensed the car, bought groceries, picked up the lovely picture you brought us from Carmel. Russ was thrilled to death with it. We then proceeded to check on the wallet pictures. They weren't ready yet. I got some Christmas cards to send south. Russ got his hair cut, and such a hair cut he has never had before. It looks so well, and I'm so proud of him—the new look you know. It really is peachy keen—looks truly fine!!!! 

Finally got home in the rain about 2:30 to find all sorts of packages—my silver for one, a lovely silver candy dish and the boxes from Uncle Denton. 

We were so thrilled we could hardly stand it. Everything went up in the kitchen immediately, knives by the sink, pans and utensil rack by the door. Looks so nice and shiny, and the pans are wonderful. The scales will be wonderful for us too. 

All in all we were practically beside ourselves with the excitement of all the things to use. It's simply miraculous to have them all of a sudden when we do need them for Thanksgiving. I'm going to break down and try a pie, pumpkin I do believe. We've decided on a menu: 

Fruit cocktail 

Turkey 

Waldorf salad 

Dressing 

Creamed corn 

Mashed potatoes 

Sweet potatoes 

Relish plate 

French string beans 

Pumpkin pie

After we had put everything in its place we took a nap. Paul came over (the friend from New York who is writing a novel!). As a matter of fact he's going to stay with us for a while. He's such a nice guy, seems to belong to us somehow. Since we can't have a cat, he is our substitute. 

We had dinner about 8:30—barbequed pork chops, baked potatoes, tossed salad and green peas. Tasted pretty good!

November 21

Last night we celebrated our first month anniversary. I had found a good looking sport shirt for Russ yesterday noon, and bought it, not only because he needs it but because it was the 20th. 

When we got home, I found a dozen lovely red roses waiting for me, and we had a little wine before dinner. Dinner was wieners and hot potato salad which met with such approval. Marjorie without a recipe book has been getting by quite well truly! 

I was so pleased with my thoughtful husband and the lovely roses, as well as the wine. 

Then he wrote part of my letter to Kay, and to his Mother, and I did a cursory treatment of cleaning to the house. 

Truly we have so many things to do, though it seems we accomplish something more every day. The mirrors are still to be put up, the silver must be cleaned, a couple pictures to hang, the knick-knack racks. 

We have truly not lived in our apartment this first month of marriage, only moved in and out of it. Just about seven days we've really been there. 

Have to get adjusted to it allover, and we'll certainly have to establish a morning routine. Russ is going to have kittens when he finally realizes that I've set up his watch & the clock so I can stir him in the morning. 

We're beginning to have more fun than we had for a couple of weeks. I suppose it was our colds because we truly did have terrible ones, but we're so good now and have no troubles at all. I'm so happy and pleased with my life, and things in general. I truly have a very wonderful husband. I'm sure you'll know it some day too.

November 27

Marjorie to her parents, Louise & John Reed—Brazil

We truly had a nice weekend, but I guess I worked too hard because I folded in bed at 9:30 last night. 

Saturday night we had wieners and potato salad for dinner, and I really forget what we did—not much I imagine. 

I went to bed rather early (9:30 p.m.)—Russ read. Sunday we didn't get up until late. 

I, in fact, got up first & it was 10:30, 13 hours of sleep. 

I made turkey soup that truly was so good that two whole pans of it went in a flash. 

Greg came up in the afternoon, so I fed him dinner, too: soup, potato salad, sliced tomatoes and I baked a pretty good cake. They really fell to at any rate. 

Feel sorry for Greg because he's alone here in the city 'til he gets married in December, so I asked him to come over if he got lonesome Sunday—he did. 

Paul came home around six, so he ate some soup & went to bed, tired. He'd been with Dave & Joyce. When I did go to bed Sunday night I couldn't sleep, so I got up and wrote thank-you notes. 

Yesterday I puttered I guess. Came home and got dinner and then I was so tired I went to bed at 9:30. 

Russ came in to talk to me, for an hour. He extolled my virtues as cook, housekeeper, washer & ironer and asked me please to not try to do everything by myself & then fall exhausted into bed. Please, says he, mind your Mother—watch out for yourself you can't do everything and work, you have to relax. So I will cut down if I see I absolutely can't stand it. It seems like so little I do. I don't know why it seems like so much. 

Think we'll go out for dinner & to the show tonite, though I should go home and deal with the wet clothes that are drying allover the bathroom and kitchen. . . . 

I wrote to Kenny and asked him to come for Christmas if he wanted to come. 'Spose Russ & I will ever live alone? Or if we'd like it if we did? 

We've really wondered sometime, but we truly do. He's so sweet and thoughtful and good to me, when I let him be, and I'm afraid I'm quite difficult sometimes about little things that truly don't make any difference. The wonderful thing is that he forgives me—and I can talk him into anything I want!!

November 29

Tuesday night Russ came back to the office from the airport and he took me out to dinner. We went to Luigi's, that Italian place we all went that night, and then we went to the show. 

We shuttled from one to another and finally wound up going to see Gregory Peck and Anne Baxter in "Yellow Sky," a really good Western! I thoroughly enjoyed it, and we had such a good time. 

Got home with a memento of the evening, a little wine bottle complete with the straw covering. We'll put a candle in it. A candle in the window. We're eating by candlelight, so long as the candles hold out! Have some from Thanksgiving still burning. 

We didn't get to bed until late, but I felt so rested yesterday, and still feel good today. Took the car in for its health and wash yesterday. Changed the oil and checked everything on it. Now it runs like a top, bless its little heart. 

Last night we had dinner at home. I found some vegetables for Chow Mein, so I manufactured some for us. It was truly good, almost better than the Chinese make. I was so pleased. Chow Mein and fruit salad, and cookies and coffee. 

Russ did the dishes for me while I ironed a shirt for him, and then since I've been wanting to do it for some time, I waxed the kitchen floor "I'Dozed" it. 

Looks beautiful now. Then I washed my hair and Russ's and all our nylon clothes, drank some coffee and went to bed about one. 

Got up this morning, and you probably won't believe it, but I made some sandwiches and we brought our lunch! It was of my own free will—Russ had never said a word—but it just isn't too convenient to go home. It's a rush, really, and eating out every day is much too much . . . .

Think we'll go to the Redwoods this weekend. Russ has never been & I haven't been for so long. Thought we'd start out Saturday nite after work, just we two. Think it will be fun. Tonite we're going to have dinner with PAA, a "Know Your World" program on the Orient & Europe. 

Mr. Peterson is speaking on his very recent trip to Scandinavia and Europe. . . .

We eat such good breakfasts, you'd be so proud of me. Juice, egg or cereal, toast and coffee. One morning we even had sliced peaches. I'm really being a pretty good cook, and Russ hasn't cooked once or even tried, and I thought I'd have trouble with him in the kitchen. He makes good coffee.

November 30

What a dreary, rainy day this has turned out to be. 

We got to work in the nick of time this morning. Hadn't been here more than one minute before it began to pour. Big dash everywhere one wants to go. 

The dinner meeting of "Know Your World" was held last night. We had a couple drinks next door with Greg before we had dinner. Practically half the office was doing the same. Had a good dinner, chicken pot pie, tomato aspic salad, coffee and cupcakes. 

Mr. Peterson's speech was very interesting about Europe, and one of the outside salesmen spoke about the Orient. Next January will be the next meeting, and Mr. Peterson will continue his little talk and I've been elected to talk on South America. 

I'm evidently the last person to have come from S.A. with any length of stay behind me. Russ is organizing the programs. Seems to me he gets an awful lot of responsibility dumped on him—always some project someone wants him to handle. . . 

Things are still kind of slow at the Counter. Guess they will be the rest of the winter, or at least until March. Nobody travels too much. 

'Round Christmas time everyone will decide to go to Honolulu and Mexico City. Wonder why people want to go away from home at Christmas time? . . . 

We've decided to go on a budget come the first of the year. Together, with the income tax taken out, we get $440 a month. 

In the past two weeks we have spent $245. Imagine!! Course I had a $67.64 bill at Roos, and the rent came due, another $62.50 & I suppose Thanksgiving cost us about $30, the car $27, and so on. 

Course it won't continue to be so much, but I think if we know where the money is going it will be easier to see why. Heaven only knows money is no source of trouble between us, as I know you thought there would be. 

Russ gives me about $15 out of every $25 we cash, so I do very well with our money changing. Last night we had a couple drinks with Greg before we got away to do our shopping. We did all the shopping we could think of to do, and then we went down to AI's Drive-In. 

Had a really fine ground round steak, went home, and Russ put the groceries away while I watched. Then Russell made himself something to pass for a milkshake. 

That Osterrizer is a peach for mixing most everything, and he loves to fool with it. Some of the weirdest concoctions. 

Oh what a wind and rain storm there was about four or five this morning. Simply awful. Wakened me, and everyone else in town, except Russ of course. 

I have to blast in the mornings to get him awake. He hates to give up & go to bed & he hates to give up and get up in the mornings.

December 4

And still it rains, and rains, and rains. Saturday night when we started out for northern California it was simply pouring, and it poured every minute we were gone. 

But we had such a good time, and we were so snug in our little car that we couldn't have picked a nicer weekend in which to go. It was perfect! 

We truly didn't think we were ever going to get out of the City. For the first time since the Golden Gate Bridge was opened in 1937, it was closed to all traffic because of the high wind. I guess it was swaying as much as 6 ft. So, determined as I was to go, we sat on the approach to the bridge, along with 2,000 other cars, for two solid hours. 

They finally let traffic across again about 9:00 p.m.. 

We couldn't feel the bridge swing although there was still a high wind, but the wind in the cables and evidently even the slight strain made the most unearthly and unholy sound you've ever heard. It was completely weird and eerie. I was scared (but not very). 

We drove past Santa Rosa for dinner. Had dinner at a regular road house, which absolutely fascinated me. Had such a good dinner too! 

Then we drove on to Healdsburg, and we found a nice friendly motel to spend the night. It was such fun. We investigated folders the woman brought us to see what we should see in the Redwoods, and got up about ten Sunday morning to be on our way. 

Had a whopping breakfast: ham, eggs, potatoes, etc. you know the kind I always want when we're eating out. It was delicious. 

Then, in the rain, we drove up to within 40 miles of Eureka. Everything looked so clean and green, and just as I remembered it from twelve years ago. We drove thru the Drive-thru Tree and went into the Tree House, and drove up to the tallest tree in the world—364 feet. The trees were so impressive! It got so dark as we would drive through them. Every foot of the way it rained, but I loved it, and Russ enjoyed it as much as I did.

Sunday night we stopped at another nice motel and had another good dinner. 

Drove home yesterday. Stopped at the Italian Swiss Colony Winery to taste the wine—didn't have time to go clear around because Russ had a lesson at four. 

We arrived home about two thirty after a thoroughly enjoyable weekend. I'm so glad we went because it was such a good trip. . . . 

I cleaned the bedroom & living room thoroughly last night. Russ got dinner, and then we dropped over to Joyce's for the evening. She had a friend she wanted us to meet, a Mills College sister, and we had a most enjoyable evening all evening. Another friend of hers was there and we sang and talked and generally enjoyed ourselves. Joyce's friend was most charming and interesting. She worked for Dean Rusk in the State Dept, and had just returned from 3 months in Europe. . . .

We stopped for one innocent drink last night with Ed Scandlen, who is in from New York—Greg and another couple fellows. We wound up with nearly 12 people in our apartment for dinner. There was no problem about food because Ed sent out for 10 of the biggest and most delicious steaks I've ever seen or eaten. I broiled them in the oven & in my roaster, and they were really fine. 

The people Ed called up to come beside ourselves amounted to about 5. 

Couple Pan Am stewardesses and I don't know where the fellows came from. Anyway, we had a party, and what a mess this morning! It's all cleaned up now.

December 7

Last night we took Greg home with us for dinner and we had scrambled eggs, ham, toast and sliced oranges. He seems to enjoy our company so much, and he flatters me into believing I'm a fine cook, so I like to have him. 

Nick & Thelma Lauer came up about 9:30 and stayed til nearly eleven. They came to call, and to bring us our wedding present, a martini pitcher complete with modernistic little glasses. 

After they left Russ helped me with the dishes and we wrote checks for our bills due, and made out our Christmas list. 

Now for the shopping: his Christmas present (really I feel as tho it's mine) is having his eyes examined Monday at 2 p.m., and I hope having his glasses changed. He broke them while we were gone over the weekend. I'm not sure I deliberately sat on them but there is that possibility. Anyway, new glasses, my choice!! Russ calls it my "Improve Russell program" . . . .

We did go shopping last night. Got off for $8.74 including cigarettes and a ham. We got home about 9:30. I took a bath and went to bed. 

So sleepy, and I slept beautifully until Russ came a couple hours later. He promptly went sound asleep, and I wakened and lay awake until nearly four—and for my pains we overslept this morning. I told Russ the reason was I couldn't sleep last night and his comment was that he was well aware of it, but why should I see to it that he didn't either. 

I only woke him up three times. We came only about ten minutes late because I have the foresight every nite to set the clock ahead 15 minutes & then I promptly forget that I have. We brought the car down with us and went home for lunch . . . .

Tomorrow I'm going to make an apple pie and some vegetable soup. Have had a soup bone for nearly a week. Monday will surely be a busy day: wash, haircut for Russ, eye examination and the voice lesson. Think we'll go to the show tonite, after I fool with some Spanish Rice. I'm scared to death of cooking it by myself. Could you send me some recipes? Some easy ones that are tasty. 

I don't know why we're never home but we seem not to be. Come the Revolution we must stay home. Neither of us doesn't want to, but we don't seem to make it always.

December 11

We've had the most beautiful sunny days of late. It's been crisp and clear and cold. 

It's been so beautiful and tonite the moon is full. Riding up on the cable car tonite it looked as though it might settle upon the Shell Building. Our apartment hasn't been too cold, and the water is getting progressively warmer every evening. 

I washed our respective heads last night and nearly burned Russ's ears and scalp!! Such a nice weekend we had. It was so pleasant. Saturday night we were alone. Had some real delicious Spanish Rice, as I told you I got some pre-cooked stuff & it was lovely. Then we read and fooled around until not too late. 

Sunday was a nice day too 'cause we had most of it to ourselves. A nice leisurely breakfast complete with Sunday paper, and then I started operating with my pressure cooker. 

The vegetable soup I made was truly good, and I baked a ham & believe it or not, a delicious (if I do say so myself) apple pie! I was so surprised because what I did with the dough shouldn't happen to any dough. It wouldn't roll & the crust was patched and pierced and some places on top there even wasn't any. But it was good! 

And the ham has been so good don't really believe I could ever get tired of ham. We went to the show Sunday night, saw a French movie. It was cute, and quite refreshing. It was a cold cold night, and the little car took us there warm and nice and brought us home. . . .

Yesterday was a “do things” day: Russ got his hair cut and his eyes examined; I worked and got most of the clothes dry & ready to put away, changed the beds, washed heads, and we really had a good dinner too. Ham, escalloped potatoes, corn on the cob, tossed salad and coffee. No pie 'cause it was all gone by breakfast yesterday. 

All in all, it was such a nice weekend that it was no effort to get up and go to work. I worked well, had plenty to do, came home and cooked up some Chow Mein (with the ham) and have ironed. Aren't I a good one? 

Now Russell is reading, Paul is typing, and I'm sitting on the corner of the davenport writing to you.

December 12

Another day gone, closer to Christmas, and I can say today that we did some shopping. 

Went over to the Mission Pak place and took care of the Sparks, Grandfather, Helen, the Jones & Russ's folks. 

Did I tell you that yesterday we ordered two pair of glasses for Russ? One for reading & one for distance. Good looking ones, and he'll have the equivalent of 20-20 vision. At present his eyes are only 51% efficient. No wonder he can't see. 

He's so pleased, and naturally I'm so pleased. He's so good to do the things I want to do, and so pleased after he's done them. Truly, I couldn't ask to live with anyone more reasonable or sweet to me. So good. He's getting dinner tonite so I could iron & clean the bathroom. 

He's fixing spaghetti with ham for the meat. He didn't think he could do it without this & that but he's doing it. I made a Brown Betty for dessert. We bought a whole box of apples the weekend we went north, so must use them to advantage.

December 15

I did tell you when last I wrote that Russell was making spaghetti. It took a little while for the finished product, but truly it was delicious, extremely so. I'll hesitate before giving him some of mine, but maybe he can always make it. 

There was plenty left over for the next night: spaghetti, vegetable soup & Brown Betty (which turned out very well). 

We're still eating ham, every conceivable way we've used it: sandwiches, Chow Mein, spaghetti sliced, creamed, and now I'm thinking of a soup I could make beside split pea. 'Spose we could have ham and scalloped potatoes. 

It's truly fun to fool around with so many different things . . . .

We haven't done anything this week except to go home at night. No playing until last night. We went up to San Rafael with Henrietta in her scrumptious new Cadillac. It was really quite fun. 

They had a lovely dance and all the little boys were so cute with their girls. Riley didn't have a date so he was busying himself by checking coats. He danced with me and I enjoyed it. . . . 

Russ thinks maybe we can ask for passes to Rio—indoctrination or something. Mr. Peterson could very easily do it for us, or we will try to afford it!! God only knows we want to come!! . . .

We went shopping a little today. Went up to a place called the Thieves Market. It's run by people who used to work for Pan American In Rio. . . .

Paul is moving out when Kay comes. We hadn't known until last night whether he planned to. I haven't said much; I thought I'd let Russ get fed up with it all, and he has. 

Paul is fine, but we're tired of living with him. Russ is wiser about Dave & Joyce than I ever expected he was. We don't see very much of them.

December 18

Tonight is the PAA Christmas party. We'll put tomato juice in the ice box instead of the usual orange juice, and play Cinderella by getting home around midnite. We'll see all the office playing instead of working for a change. . . . 

December 20

Kay was due in at 5:55 a.m., but her plane is two and a half hours late. She'll be in about 8:35, I guess. 

I had a shirt to iron for Russ. Coffee's made, and radio going full blast. That's the only way we know what time it is because I always set the clock ahead 15 minutes or so before we go to bed, so we'll not be late. . . .

Monday nite we did some Christmas shopping for Kay; Tuesday nite was the party, which was an extreme social success. 

The food was deliclous, the music very good, and there was plenty of liquor for everyone. The ladies all received gardenias, and everyone had a marvelous time. We sang Christmas carols, and danced—sambas were very good. Got home about one, and overslept yesterday morning until quarter of nine. . . .

Bless you for your Christmas present. $50 is wonderful!!! Think I'll buy a cashmere sweater and some rhinestone jewelry.

December 22

Christmas is so very close, only three days, and thank heaven they are free ones. 

Finally finished all the shopping. Most, of course, was for Kay and Russ, and it's nearly all wrapped and under the tree. Kay's plane was four hours late. Bless her, she looked so cute when she stepped off, little hat, high heels & her red and black dress. We got back to the apartment around eleven, and I had to come in to work for a couple hours while people went to lunch.

Then I took the afternoon off for scheduled Christmas shopping. She had such a good time. Got Russ some socks, a new robe, and a couple ties. Two lovely ties and the robe is washable. The socks were on sale, irregulars, some orIon, and really pretty argyles.

Got him a little keychain for an anniversary present, and Kay got him a tie rack & a fingernail kit for Christmas. Last night I was wrapping the package you sent him from Columbia. Such a beautiful shirt & the tie is perfectly wonderful! The cuff links are lovely. He'll be so thrilled!! 

Grandfather sent us each $5 so I bought Russ some shaving lotion and a brush & myself some lovely Henri Bendel soap. Smells delicious. 

Got King's Men for Russell. . . .We accomplished so much Thursday, all our shopping, bought the prettiest tree. Stands about 4 feet high & is perfectly shaped. We decorated it Thursday nite after our beef stew dinner (& the California champagne Russ brought home for the 20th—$1.97 a bottle). 

It looks lovely in front of the windows & the man finally came from Breuners & hung the mirrors, so the house is in perfect shape. We put all our Christmas cards up on the closet door behind the davenport. As soon as I get the house straightened up it will look perfectly wonderful. 

I've ordered a turkey for Christmas. Kay wanted one, and we'll have chicken or ham for New Years. Think we'll stay home strictly over this holiday, although tomorrow we're going to see Pat & John and will probably go Christmas calling on the Montgomerys. It continues cold, gets lower and lower every day. Paul left yesterday for New York. He is such a nice fellow, but I can't say I was sad to see him leave.

Christmas Day, 1951

Han & Blondena were wonderful as usual. I enjoyed seeing them so much. We had a delicious dinner at a retaurant in Berkeley and got to the basketball game between Cal & Oregon State for the last two quarters. Went back to the hotel for a nightcap and came home. We sat up very late, and slept accordingly Sunday morning. 

Russ and Kay went out for about 3 hours and I cleaned the house. We had hash for dinner, and Kay and I just spent the evening by the tree talking. 

Russ went to the show, saw "Quo Vadis." Couldn't talk either Kay or me into going, so he went by himself. He came home and told us all about it, and I guess it was nearly four before we went to bed. Just sitting and talking. 

Yesterday I made some split pea soup for lunch, and about three we all went down town. There was an egg nog party at the office, so we dropped in there for a little while. I came home and took a nap 'til Russ came home about 7:30. 

I couldn't imagine where he had been or why, but I found out soon. None of us was hungry, so we decided to open some of our presents. Each of us opened one and then Russ and Kay went whispering out to the kitchen and brought back a huge box which they deposited in my lap. 

I tore off the paper, lifted the lid and there wiggling around like a little fur ball was the most beautiful Persian kitten you've ever seen! 

Russ's Christmas present to me. She's the dearest little ball of fluff you've ever seen and the cutest, most friendly and playful little thing. She's a pedigreed tortise-shell Persian with an ancestry a page long. 

I was SO thrilled and taken aback with surprise that of course I cried and laughed and nearly squeezed the little thing out of breath. 

Her eyes are copper,colored and her markings are beautiful. She's so cute and so little. She doesn't weigh a pound. Just 3 months old, house-broken and so lovable. We've gotten such a kick out of her because she has played most every minute she's been here. 

We named her Princess Mistletoe of Christmas and call her "Missy." (I can just hear Daddy calling her "Messy," and she has made a couple of mistakes). But she's so cute, and how thrilled I am with her. 

She kept Kay awake most of the night jumping up and down from her bed. . . .

We truly had a wonderful Christmas. such lovely gifts. I was so pleased with the lovely aprons you sent from Lord & Taylor. They're beautiful, and of course with my name on the white and black one I was completely impressed and thrilled. 

Kay gave us an ice bucket and the cutest candle snuffer, plus a time clock for the pressure cooker, a board scraper, and a tie rack for Russ. I love the handkerchiefs you left for me. Kay & Russ gave me a darling plaid umbrella. 

Russ was so pleased with his robe and socks, tie, shirt, etc. . . .

We went to bed early last night, completely exhausted. Even the kitten settled down with only a minimum of fuss. I think I've been up forever today. At any rate I got up before eight and put the turkey in the oven by eleven. (Course I had to play with the cat and see that she annoyed everyone who was sleeping to the utmost tail, teeth and claws unsheathed). 

We had dinner about 3:30 turkey, candied sweet potatoes, dressing, peas and carrots, and apple pie. After we had almost recovered we drove out to the Montgomerys, and from there to see Til Lethco and his wife. 

Had a couple egg nogs, and now we're home. My little "Missy" looks just like a little Australian koala bear. She's so cute, and her furry tail stands up so proudly!

December 27

Lunch time at PAA for the Robinsons. Russ is reading a magazine, and since his office is completely screened off from everything else now, all we need is a davenport or something. Do hate to leave "Missy" all day long alone, but it takes too much time for the most part to go home and come back in an hour. 

We're pretty good about time schedules in the office now, so one feels like a deserter if he's five minutes late. We did go home for lunch yesterday—turkey and split pea soup. This turkey certainly solves the eating problem for the rest of the week. Practically eat it for breakfast. Then last night we went home and had dinner, and for the first time I can remember since we've been married I too spent most of the evening reading. 

Guess it was about 1:30 a.m. when we went to bed. About 11 we got wound up in a discussion about geography and maps for training here at the office, and didn't unwind for two hours. Should talk earlier in the evening I guess.

"Missy" had slept all day long so she was more than alive and playful. She is so cute and funny. She looks just like a little bear!! She chased a piece of cellophane around the living room last night until we were in hysterics. She helped me iron a shirt for Russ, and was very good while we brushed her. 

All in all, she's a dear little thing, and so cute and playful. She looks so big because of all her fur, but she doesn't weigh a pound. 

Russ wants to add a note: 

RUSS: 

Merry Christmas!—a bit late. 

I really enjoyed opening all of your thoughtful gifts, and as a matter of fact I'm wearing one right now: the blue tie, which I think is stunning (just my type). The shirt and cuff-links are being held in abeyance for our open house next Sunday—but I'm sure they'll be fine. 

My belt is very handsome but has too many holes and Marjorie keeps insisting I use the last one which I cannot comfortably manage. I'm planning to plug it up. Thank you so much for your gifts! Happy New Year, and love from Russ.

—END RUSS