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Letters From The Front
Dear Mother,

Thank you for sending underwear and socks. Last week I was taught how to kill. I can now break any grip or hold and throw a man flat on his face. Also during training we got put in rooms with different kinds of gas. Sometimes we were given masks and sometimes we weren't. That doesn't bother me so much. What does bother me is that the other day 3 German prisoners were brought to our station. They came to our lunchroom and were served meals. Not only that, but they also smoked and talked. I just watched as they continued to have a "good time". It was just strange, because these are the people we are being trained to kill, and they seem like they're just regular people like you and me. I guess war gets harder when you get to know your enemies. I don't know how to explain what I'm feeling out here. It's like I'm almost helpless. Fear, angry, disgust, homesick.....these words only scratch the surface. I pray to be home soon. I pray for all of this to be over soon.

Love,
Evan

Letters From The Front
Dear my loving family,
I know that you have not heard from me in a while, but I am glad to tell you that I am well and will be coming home soon. I have been receiving your letters for quite some time now, but this is the first chance I had to return to you.
I assume that you have heard the news about the new Atomic Bomb by now. Some stuff, huh? It is definitely the most wonderful thing to happen in the 20th Century.
You have frequently asked where I am and what I am doing and where I am stationed. Well, I am being stationed now just outside of Santa Fe, New Mexico. We are engaged in making the Atomic Bomb. All the research on the subject was done here. This is probably the most modernly equipped and the largest laboratory in the US. It has been a very secret project; and the best kept secret of the war. Even the people in Santa Fe didn't know what was going on here. All they knew was that there was some kind of project up in the mountains and that there was a lot of activity there. Everyone was making wild guesses, and some came fairly close, but no one was sure. And now that the secret has been let out, this is probably one of the most famous little cities in the world.
A few weeks ago we had an experimental bomb south of Albuquerque at the Army Air Base. I assume you have heard about that too. Well, I was one of a fortunate few that witnessed it. It was a sight that I'll never forget as long as I live. The sight created the brightest light and the loudest roar of anything yet known to man. I am very fortunate to not have gone overseas and to have stayed in the U.S. and helped end the war. Although, the atomic bomb was a terrible thing, I am certainly thankful that we were the ones that discovered it first.


Your loving son,
Matt

Letters From The Front
Dear Mother,

I know that it has been much time since I have written last, but I ask you not to worry if there is much time between letters. It is a gruesome experience here. It was not until coming here that I knew what it is like to feel so blessed to return to your bed at night. Returning to my bed each night means that I had completed the mission set in front of me with my life, as many of my fellow pilots do not. Being stationed in Melun, France means having many missions to fly through Germany in hopes to shoot down enemy planes and often time bomb enemy territory. War means being desensitized to the value of life and being more exposed to the pride in ones countries beliefs and victory. Killing those that we fight against means bringing down the evil, in my fellow solders eye including myself. It is unbelievable the experiences that these leaders have forced upon there own people that have been loyal to there countries for years. These experiences seem to match nothing comparable to anything I have seen. The value for life is absent completely and the experiences that I endure are so in the end these people may be free. That what makes me keep fighting. And also the hope to return home and see the beautiful farm again and you of course mom. I hope your holding everything down ok; I know you’re a strong lady so I have no doubt in you. I still have the cross you gave me before I left. I hung it in my plane and I think it gives me strength. Your words mean so much, “May god bless over you as you fight for what you believe in and for our nation. A mother could never be more proud”. Mom I will be home before you know it don’t you worry. And when that day comes I will be the happiest son alive. I love you dearest mom and can’t wait till I get to see you again. I will write again soon.
Your dearest son.

Letters From The Front
November 8th 1944

Dear Mother,

It has been nearly a year sense I have seen you, I miss you very much. Europe is nothing like America, its very dark and droomy here. I wish I was back in the states with you. I am stationed in Northern europe right now waiting for further instructions onto where my next flight will be. Every time I get into my plane I think of you and pray that i will soon touch down again. When im in the air I see the true devastation of this war. Its so hard to fly these planes there killing machines. Every time its hard to breath in the small cockpit all alone. Diving from other planes nearly passing out. Hopefully it will all be over soon. The only thing that turns me up is the picture of you in my cockpit. Every plane I shoot down I think as if it was me and they have a family back home. This war has turned me into a monster, a monster who flies a plane killing everyone in sight. Will God forgive me? After each mission when I fly home I watch the sunset up in the air thinking about how peaceful it is back home and how I cant wait to be with you again. I will see you soon mother hopefully in this life, if not in the next.

Love,
Garrett Ficara

Letters From The Front
June 7th, 1944

Dear Heather,

I hardly know how to begin after such a long time since we have been separated. It used to be fairly peaceful to lay in our foxholes but recently there was plenty of big stuff falling nearby. I never was too scared of the stuff until then. We happened to be about eight miles inside of Normandy and the artillery was coming from all directions. Everytime a shell started to whistle in, I was beginning another prayer. Many of my good friends in my division were killed from the invasion, and each day, i seem to see less familiar faces in my division. We were successful in the invasion of Normandy, but this is just the beginning of the war in europe, and each day i get more and more home sick.
Sincerely,
Lieutenant Alec Heagie

Letters From The Front
June 3rd 1944
Dearest Maria,
My lovely wife, it has been months since I have seen your face and already I am starting to forget. It seems like everything that was before the War is now just a dream. I forget how air tastes when not heavy with ash and sweat, I forget the softness of clean cloths, and I forget the satisfaction of sleeping more than three hours. Here we are all tired, all the time. We get very little sleep, and when we do it is often on the ground or on a flimsy cot. What I wouldn’t give right now Maria, for a hot meal. The only food we get is canned and cold. It is better than nothing though, and I’m sure I have you and your womenfolk to thank for much of our meals. I hear that the women on the home front have been quite taken to working in the war production industry. Of course I can’t be sure Maria, we have very little communication with our loved ones. I often think of you darling on these long hikes to nowhere. I now appreciate how much you did for me at home. I even miss the little things the most, like clean laundry. In war there is no time to stop for washing, and I can’t remember the last time I had a hot shower. Of course, that’s the price you pay to fight for freedom. It helps though, that I truly hate the enemy. I have heard of the atrocities they have committed against mankind. Honestly my dear, I can think of no better cause to die for. Which is fortunate, I suppose, because people are dying. Rapidly. It isn’t the quick deaths that really move me though Maria, it is the slow ones. We don’t exactly have first rate medical supplies here, and many of my comrades have been wounded and rescued only to die days later from sickness or infection. Although, against the infections we now have one very important, penicillin. When the medics use penicillin to treat the wounds, now less die and more survive to be shipped home. But enough of such discouraging talk my dear. I just want you to know, that if fully plan on surviving this war. I much anticipate the day when I return home and we share a quit hot meal together like we used to in times of peace. Until then,
Sincerely,
Staff Sergeant Jack Peters

Letters From The Front
Dear mom,
The war is bitter and I feel like I am slowly giving up. I have killed so many other men, that i have lost the will to even live my own life. It is absolutley incomprehendable. I cannot describe to you what it feels like to take the life of another person. To pull the trigger and all in slow motion, watch the bullet fly at the dead center of your opponets forehead. You see the man go down in pain as his life ends within moments. Blood is everywhere. Blood is on my hands, i don't know what to do with the pain i feel inside of me.
Write back soon
Bianca

Letters From The Front
Bastogne 1945.

Dear Rebecca,

The forest today reminds me of home during the winter. It’s cold and we haven’t enough winter clothes to keep us warm. Many of the men are getting foot diseases the names of which I cannot even pronounce. Men get lost on the line so many times I don’t even want to know peoples names any more. Yesterday a German looking for a latrine stumbled upon our whole division on the line. We took him prisoner and I was ordered check him for intelligence. All I found were a few rifle stripper clips and a wallet. This man was from Munich. He had a wife and two children back home and he told our interpreter that he writes to them often. It’s amazing to think our government plays all these men out to be barbarians when in truth they’re just as educated and civilized as we are.
It’s been more than a year since I shipped out. I want to know how things are going back in town. The weather here is dark and overcast. If the clouds clear up, we can get a supply drop or two on our position. All the supplies we got dropped in landed over on the Kraut line. You’ll never recognize me the way I am now. I haven’t been able to shave in a couple of days and ever since we first dropped into Holland I haven’t looked at anything the same. I dropped a foot soldier the other day. I went up to his body to examine him. I shouldn’t have done that. I found a Luger on him and now every man in the company is offering me an hour with their girl back home for it. Don’t worry, dear. There are no females in the Ardennes.
Well tell my parents I’m doing okay. Give Betty a kiss for me. I miss my little girl you know. I’m going to come back home and she won’t even know it’s her daddy. Tell your parents I’m okay too. I know how fond of me they are. All I can say for now is keep faith in the Army to do its job and have faith in me to survive. Sleep well at night and don’t waste anything. Send me some letters back and let me know how everyone’s doing.


All the love I have,
Sgt. Chuck Powers

Letters From The Front
Dear Family and Friends,
I’m writhing to ask how you are all doing and to inform you that I'm doing well. The date is June 12, 1944 and I have survived the assault on Normandy, France. It's a miracle I survived of the worst attack sites for the battle because of how deep the Germans were reinforced at Omaha, a code name for one of the beaches that the Americans assaulted. Even though the battle for Normandy is still continuing, we are turning the tide, the Germans are beginning to weaken and there is a good chance that we could win this war. Continue to pray for me as I continue to fight for our country and I pray that you are doing well.
Sincerely your friend and son,
Ryan

Letters From The Front
June 10, 1944

Dear Anna,

As you have probably heard, Operation Overlord occurred a few days ago. I do not seriously know exactly how long because of the emotional heartbreak and lack of sleep. What I do remember is being terrified while about to land on the beach. It was extremely hard because I could not show it in fear of being called a coward. I miss your care and warmth that you provide for me and cannot wait to arrive home although it does not look like it will be soon. I just want to be away from death and the physical strains of war. It is impossible to make friends here because there is the conflict that they could die at any time. I met this man in my company that was very kind and we got along very well. We got separated in the invasion and I have not seen him since. I fear he is dead. This is why no friends can be made here. I also fear that I may get killed and leave a friend in that same state. Fear controls my actions these days but sometimes that has to be overcome. I cannot imagine what days will be like when I am home again with you. All that I have learned here will be useless. Well anyway I hope you get this although it is doubtful.

Love
Jon