“Letters of a World War II Airman” shares original letters to and from my uncle, Frank Ebner Gartz, from 1943-1945, tracing the course of WWII, life on the home front, and the evolution of a neighborhood kid into seasoned airman.
Frank bemoans that fact that Army Air Corps cadets in World War II are expected to supply their own toilet paper and even belts, which you think would be part of the supplied uniform. No such luck. He also needs his own shoe polish. He's already been promoted, gaining more and more responsibility. Read on to find out more.
My grandmother starts this letter to her son Frank Ebner at 11 p.m. and doesn’t finish it until 1 a.m. She’ll be up the next morning by 4:30 or 5:00 a.m. to start the daily routine of helping my grandfather [...]
The Family is thrilled that Frank, the youngest, has been made a navigator, and they send off congratulations. I'm grouping both of Frank's brothers' letters (first from Will, then from Fred) in one post, and a brief postcard, sent in between the brothers' letters, from Frank to his Mom.
Frank Gartz's classification has come through on 1/4/1944. He's been assigned to be a be a navigator. Stephen Ambrose in his book, "The Wild Blue," about B-24 airmen, states: "After mental and physical exams, the men who passed were asked to list a preference: pilot, navigator, or bombardier. Those who put down pilot—a vast majority—figured you needed a top score to quality, but in fact, the AAF [Army Air Force] took its navigators from those who scored best."
Frank Ebner Gartz is now the farthest away from home he's ever been since starting his World War II training. He's in Los Angeles, California, and tells his mom he wants lots of letters from the folks back in Chicago. He sounds a little homesick and wants to keep in touch.