Set during World War II, the movie Anne of Green Gables: The Continuing Story (don’t judge me; I simply cannot get enough of these stories) follows Anne as she travels to France, a volunteer for the Red Cross, on a search for her lost soldier husband, Gill. Her catalyst—A packet of returned letters she had written to him, each of them unopened. They never made it into his hands.
While Anne’s fictional journey was not a reality for many women during World War II, she did have something else in common with them—that is her husband was on the battle field and her dependence on the mail to communicate with him. Women wrote their men letters. And then all they could do was wait.
Intrigued by the roles that v-mail (victory mail) played during World War II, I did some research and found several stories about long lost letters resurfacing decades after the war. The letters I’ve read are vividly written and washed with emotion. You can almost feel what the writer must have felt in the moment. In a few cases, the letters or images of the letters were published online. One, written between 1944-45′, was from an American woman to her fiance fighting overseas. She wrote,
My prayer tonight will be that God watch over you and keep you safe and the next year you’ll be home…My heart is filled with loneliness and my eyes are so filled with tears…”
Can you imagine the longing, passion and fear wrapped up in a single envelope? If the letter made it to its destination, it would probably be the only source of personal support, comfort, information and intimacy shared between a soldier and his wife and family.
The National Postal Museum gives us an idea of how important these letters were to their recipients,
For members of the armed forces the importance of mail during World War II was second only to food.”
What anticipation those women and men must have endured…but also what joy and relief must have consumed them upon receipt. If it were me, I would have read that letter over and over again—drinking in each word, analyzing the handwriting and thinking Is he hurt? Is he exhausted? Is he afraid?
There is a romanticism to letter writing. It is an art that, by nature, is defined by waiting—by delayed gratification. When a woman sat down to write a letter to her soldier, she didn’t know if he would receive it, but if he did she would want every word to count. Her words may be the only encouragement and support that man had until the next letter reached his base. Emotions and experiences aren’t expressed in the same way over instantaneous phone calls (Is it just me or are these slowly becoming obsolete?), text messages or email. The NPM says,
The emotional power of letters was heightened by the fear of loss and the need for communication during times of separation…Emotions and feelings that were normally only expressed on special occasions were written regularly to ensure devotion and support…couples were married on furlough and babies were were born while their fathers were away at the battlefront.”
Today, instant communication (and thus instant gratification) can cause us to take for granted the person on the other end. My words written in SMS or email, for example, can be sloppy and punctuation may or may not be inserted. They become an extension of speech rather than a clearly-written, well thought out phrase or paragraph. One reason is the mere quantity of emails sent most days. Many of us are both senders and receivers of quantity over quality communication.
An incredible blessing for keeping families connected to each other’s lives more than ever before, technology also provides instant, never-ending access to each other that can leave us (me for sure) feeling rather overwhelmed, confused and distracted.
Not so long ago, with a sheet of paper and a pen or pencil, couples and families did their best to express themselves through writing. It was the only chance they had at connecting with loved ones across a long distance. They would fold up their letter and place it in an envelope with postage and away it would go. Then, all that could be done was to carry on with life, not knowing the state of the person on the other end. Would he ever return home? Has she moved on while I’m here?
Without your Droid, iPhone, iPad or lap top at your finger tips, with only a piece of paper and a pen and your husband or wife waiting to hear from you, what would your letter say?
I would want it to be the best letter I had ever written. I would want each word to count. My penmanship would be neat, the periods and commas in the right places, the words spelled correctly, and the transitions would flow well—so that he might read it easily, without much effort. Lastly, my words would be encouraging and positive so that he might find joy in what could be his only connection with home for quite some time.
This isn’t a situation anyone may find themselves in ever again. My goal is not to lecture, but rather to reflect back on a time when reaching one another was an exciting thing; a thing to be cherished. My hope is that letter writers of the past generation would inspire current and future generations to be creative and attentive in our written sentiments.
Our modern day click-to-send communication may close a time gap in reaching someone, but it certainly doesn’t ensure that they will be here tomorrow, whether they are across an ocean or down the street. So, let’s make our words more deliberate, less frequent (like not 100 meaningless messages per day) and exceedingly sweeter.
Sources:
On Patrol, The United Service Organizations (USO). http://usoonpatrol.org.
The Smithsonian National Postal Museum. www.postalmuseum.si.edu.
