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WORLD WAR II LETTERS OF BENJAMIN FELSON (1913-1988) EDITOR’S NOTE Dad wrote these letters over 70 years ago. Since he states several times that he is writing every other day, it looks like we have most of them. This is a little surprising, since before I started thinking about this project in 2015 there were at least three boxes of loose letters – sometimes just loose fragments of letters – in the possession of various family members and therefore moved from one house to another many times. We were lucky. My editing philosophy was to leave the letters as dad wrote them with the following exceptions. While he was a careful speller and grammarian, there were many discrepancies and I decided as editor to conform some of them. For example, he often mentioned reading a magazine called P.M., which I decided to write the same way every time even though he did not. On the other hand, I left the time indications “a.m.” and “p.m.” as he wrote them. There are also discrepancies arising from the fact that perhaps 10-20% of what you read here are from Aunt Sophie’s typed versions, the handwritten letter having been lost. It’s hard to tell how much editing she did, but she definitely did some (“personal material left out”). She also elim- inated the greeting at the beginning of each letter and the closing endear- ments. I did not re-supply any “darlings” or “sweeties” or “loves.” Then, as you will see, there are lots of references to people or events which are hard to identify because we do not have mom’s letters. When he answered her questions or commented on her statements, I was left to guess in many cases what they were talking about. In italics and brackets I attempted either to explain a reference, guess at it, or note that it was un- clear. For example, dad referred to “your little disturbances” in a letter dated 2/12/45. Without seeing her letter I had no way to interpret this phrase, and said so in italics and brackets. Next category of editing: Since I hope this collection will have at least a few younger readers, I wanted to deal with references dad made that people of his generation would know, those of my generation might remember, but that younger folks would have little chance of recognizing. I decided to identify these through editorial comments, again in italics and !1 | Page brackets. In some cases I just added a first name and dates of birth and death to a lesser-known composer or writer. However, on occasion, and especially in a historical context, I did more. For example, dad met a man who fought against Franco in Spain “along with Bottcher (of New Guinea fame).” I did not know this name so I looked him up and added a short bio. I hope the value of the information conveyed in such comments outweighs the breaking up of the text. As to Army abbreviations, I usually identified them only the first time they appeared, again to avoid interfering with the text too much. Just remember that “E.M.” means “enlisted man,” “M.C.” is “Medical Corps,” and “E.T.O.” refers to “European Theater of Operations”– abbreviations dad took for granted that mom would understand – and you will do fine without continuing reminders. Finally, I hope you will pay attention to some of the themes in these letters which were quite surprising to me, especially in light of the fact that dad told me what I thought was a great deal about his wartime experiences. For example, nurses, parties, and booze comprise a good part of these letters, along with the implication that “anything goes” on both sides of the Atlantic. Another surprise was dad’s strong affinity to the Soviet Union, Com- rade Stalin, and the fighting prowess of the Red Army. In fact, radical poli- tics make up a much higher portion of the letters than I would ever have guessed, and mom was obviously on board with his views all the way. You will also note how great a time dad was having overseas and away from his kids for the better part of two years. From knowing him I understand that he would make the best of any situation, conduct medical meetings, go out and meet people, and be positive in all respects, at least as much as possible with buzz bombs falling and a hospital full of wounded soldiers. For example, this is a passage from England, dated July 25, 1944: This morning I went on a hike with the enlisted men for 7 miles. The pace was terrific and 47 men fell out, but not your old man. I hung on despite blisters on both heels and was even able to report for the athletic program this afternoon. Many men came really dragging this afternoon and I had trouble getting the games started. I am now going for a swim in town, so goodbye dear. However, he might have dampened his enthusiasm a bit in his letters – after all, mom was not having a great time on the home front, as you can see from reading between the lines regarding friction with her family plus !2 | Page caring for two very young children. On the other hand, the letters are more interesting because of the positive attitude and how much he got out and about. Looking back, maybe I would have been more surprised if his letters had been more negative. Another factor, mentioned in one of his letters, is that the Army generally encouraged soldiers to write cheerful letters home for morale purposes, and dad was nothing if not a team player. As to his later thoughts on his service overseas, I never heard him start a conversation with “In the war…” On the other hand, if you asked he was happy to talk about his experiences. For example, I remember very clearly his description of being in Liège in December 1944 and suddenly seeing the American forces going the wrong way as the Battle of the Bulge began. He and his unit were plenty worried until the 101st Airborne Division “saved everybody’s bacon,” an expression he used often. (In the 1970s I met a veteran of that unit in the small Israeli town of Karkur, adjacent to Pardes Hana, where I was living.) My point is, for Ben Felson the past was past, the future was bright if you worked hard enough, and he was always ready to get on with it. In any event, there were lots of revelations for this humble editor, and I hope those readers who knew him will also enjoy learning about these dif- ferent facets of dad’s supremely interesting personality. Steve Felson, Editor, Cincinnati, Ohio, September 2016 DEDICATION AND THANKS I naturally dedicate this work to the memory of my mother, Virginia Felson, 1914-2016. In the last year or two of her life she asked to go over the letters again, and we printed many of them out in big type for her to read. She asked me lots of questions about them, as her memory was fail- ing at the end and she needed to be reminded of matters she surely would have remembered earlier.. However, she got great joy out of them the sec- ond and third time around. She is also the one who saved them, before they were in great demand. Thanks, mom. I would also thank profusely my cousin Judy Duchan, whose collection of her father Walter’s war letters preceded mine and got me going in the same direction. Judy and my sister Nancy looked through many boxes at various institutions and found Benjamin Felson letters which had been donated earlier which I would never found by myself. !3 | Page My siblings, Nancy, Mark, Rich, and Ed, tried their best to answer at least 50 questions of family history over the last couple of months. Their re- sponses figure into quite a number of my notes. Finally, the miracle of the electronic age permits the updating of this piece at any time. If you see a mistake or want to add or subtract some- thing, please let me know. ITINERARY Because of wartime censorship, dad could not state in his letters pre- cisely where he was located. Even the concert brochures he sent home had holes in them where he (or someone) had cut out the name of the city where the concert was held. Later he was allowed to say more, but he never put together a comprehensive itinerary. In addition to the letters, I have a printout from the World War II US Medical Research Center entitled “28th General Hospital, Unit History,” which contains bare place names and dates. Finally, there is a group letter from the Protestant Chaplain of the unit, Capt. Oscar R. Powell, dated May 25, 1945, which recaps his travels with the 28th General up to that point and adds some detail to the story. Combining these materials we have a pretty good look at his travels. By the way, dad was apparently quite close to Chaplain Powell, whom he called “Chappie.” Dad often talked about him in my presence, corresponded with him after the war, and, deep in my memory, possibly visited him or was visited by him. Here is my best shot at dad’s wartime whereabouts: • October 11, 1942: Reports for duty at the headquarters of the 28th General Hospital, Indianapolis, Indiana.

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