Frank Von Arx, DOB 3/1/1924 Photo courtesy of son, Frank E. Von Arx

Frank Von Arx, DOB 3/1/1924
Photo courtesy of son, Frank E. Von Arx

Frank Von Arx was my Uncle Frank Ebner’s best friend. Ebner’s brother, Bill, mentioned in his 1/31/1943, letter (“Unlimited Opportunities“) that the Von Arx family was asking about Ebner. Here’s a letter from Frank Von Arx to my uncle.

Frank Von Arx was two months older than Ebner, He enlisted and took the train to Camp Grant on 12/12/1943, for basic training, same place Ebner would go in January. Most of Ebner’s friends were training for the war, bonding a generation in shared experiences.

These two Franks must have been a handful for their moms, full of hijinks and high spirits. This is actually the 2nd letter I have from Frank Von Arx, The first was written before Ebner was drafted. I’ll publish it at a later time. 


February 2, 1943

Dear Frank,

Boy you sure had me excited. Two shipments in over the weekend and both times I nearly broke my neck getting over here to find out if they were from Camp Grant.

I just got your letter and a couple of us guys snuck into supper a little before time so now I’ll have more time to write. I’m glad to hear you got into the Air Corps, both you and Johnnie are together. What is Johnnie’s classification? Radio operator isn’t bad at all—but how did you do for aerial gunner? That is one thing I wish I could be.

What do you have to wear the leggings for Frank? The barracks sound alright. You should try to keep hotel rooms clean like we do. (Joke) Our room never passes inspection—not once in 18 days of basic.

Now that you are in the army, Frank, I can gripe a little to you and you’ll understand because they may be the same things that bother you. We really are training in a hole. The red tape is really thick. Fatigue hats always rim down. Shirts always in. Only G.I. belts. Inspection every morning. Walk on one side of the road. Every little things we do is by “Order of Colonel Kimberly”—who is our big chief.

You probably feel the same way, but I guess I’ve gotten under the influence of our Flight. We’re the best outfit on the beach—the captains and Lieutenants have drilled us themselves and they didn’t have any criticism. But we play around all the time. We always talk back to our instructor when he says some command. I don’t know why, but I guess there are just that sort of guys in our Flight. He always gets so sore at us, he drilled us one whole morning—4 hours—without stopping once. We threw him in the drink and then got K.P. One instructor we tied in a bed and the poor guy was missing for three hours.

We really have had a lot of fun and now that we are in advanced training it really is good.

Most of the guys in our flight have been sent to schools already and that is what we are waiting for—our shipping orders. We moved from our hotels today and now bunk in former bathing houses on the beach. They must have been former resort cabins and hur [whore] houses in the good old days because that is about all they’re good for. Sand blows in and you can’t keep ‘em clean. Four bunks in a 6’ by 15’ room. Really a crowd.

It’s tough you guys being restricted to camp. We have got it nicer that way. There are girls—but they are scarce, but that is better than none.

Wish you guys would have gotten down here. My roomie was A.W.O.L. for three days, just roaming around Florida enjoying himself. The guy came back and was shipped out today. Boy was he lucky he didn’t get the guardhouse. Spent $30—all of his pay.

We have had so much drilling and P.T. that we are sick of it and can hardly wait until we get sent to school. But just the same I really like this army—I hope you do as much. It would be nice if we ever got close enough to see each other. I’d like to see you guys in a uniform! Ha ha ha!

Oh, ya—we got paid last week. I got $25—but some of the guys got as much as $50. P.S. I’m broke already.

Well, Frank, I’m sure glad to know where you’re at anyways. You probably will have plenty of writing to do, all you want, so write when you want to and let me know how you are doing—but don’t force yourself.

Always your pal —Frank

Original Letter