Excerpted from "A WAC's War: Reminiscences" in the Minnesota Historical Society's Manuscripts Collection
15 December
In one of our hotels there is a Christmas decorating party on. I've been debating on whether to go to that, or stay in our hotel and go around renewing acquaintances and seeing people's rooms. I'll bet there is many a poker game going on in the EMs and officers' billets tonight!
Another order came out recently from the Theater Provost Marshal saying that WAC enlisted women will not – repeat not – be seen socially with officers. Since he outranks the gentleman who said we could, I guess now we can't and the MPs are supposed to be on the watch. That practically puts us on a level with the Germans since the Yanks aren't allowed to fraternize with them, either!
They've cooked up a training program on us. But this time, the WACs aren't the only ones. the Boys, too, have to take it. Drill and such – ugh.
16 December
Yesterday was sort of a "party" day in our office. Someone brought in from no one knows where some chocolate ice cream. Even for Berta and I who've just been six months without any, it was something, but imagine those fellows who've not had any for three years! It was really a treat. of course, it was the General's but when he got back what we'd saved for him was all melted. So everyone in our office and a few special "guests" from other offices had some real chocolate ice cream! it certainly was good, and not at all like sherbet. When the General came in, he had a huge Normandy apple which he gave to me and said it was for the two girls. We shared it with the boys, though!
I see by the Stars and Stripes that General Eisenhower is now a 5-star general. He needs awfully broad shoulders to wear so many. In this morning's S&S there are pictures and a story of the wedding of his driver, a Master Sergeant, and a WAC corporal from Pillager, Minnesota. Hum, imagine having General Eisenhower at your wedding. She was given away by his aide.
The other night when we were all supposed to stay in I had intended to go to bed so early, but instead I went up to Winnie and Elinor's room. A couple other kids were in and since Winnie had made quite a haul in packages, we sat around eating fruit cake and candy and cookies. The kids were in their field clothes, but I just had my pajamas and robe on, so they gave me a couple blankets and the big chair and I didn't freeze too much. Of course, it was so cold we could see our breath in the room.
That night, too, they had a decorating party in the Day Room and trimmed a Christmas tree and fixed the room up lovely. But I still have no Christmas spirit and most of us are just as glad we work on Christmas Day since then there won't be any chance for sitting around thinking about what's doing at home.
I went to Church this morning, but was very disappointed because we didn't sing any Christmas hymns and there wasn't a bit of decoration. Didn't even enjoy the sermon. I'm getting so used to working on Sunday it's certainly going to be an odd feeling to not when I become a civilian again. We're thinking of, when we become civilians and the war is over, having the US adopt the French week-end – from Friday night till Tuesday morning. That would really be something.
The Paris government has now decided that there will be no more dancing in the city. Of course, that doesn't include the Red Cross or Allied Clubs or other GI dances, but in these cute little cafes and cabarets they can't dance anymore. Which is "fini" 'cause the GI dances are so darn crowded, and besides I can't go with Cliff (a lieutenant) to any of them. My goodness, but things can really get complicated. The "no dancing" is supposed to be in respect to the Frenchmen still prisoners and to the men who are fighting. Very well and good, I guess. But I think the combat troops would appreciate more a change in the rate of exchange so they wouldn't be paying dollars for a glass of beer.
I also saw in the S&S today where nurses and WACs are getting another new outfit – jackets and trousers. They won't be too much use for us since we're always in A uniforms, but I guess for the kids and nurses who wear field uniforms all the time. Personally, I'd much rather have the new dresses.
19 December
Our Day Rooms both look very Christmassy now. One has a big tree and one a little one. Of course, they aren't like a modern American tree – things are hand-made like popcorn chains. It's really attractive, though. And there is mistletoe up practically everywhere in the hotel entrance and in all the halls at the office. The boys say they are going to put some in the elevators, too!
I've just been looking at a Paris fashion magazine. The "Mademoiselle" of Paris. It just makes one drool. All the lovely, lovely things. I'll get a copy and send it home and you can be "up" on the latest Paris fashions. I assure you, though, that the things one sees in these magazines aren't exactly ordinary sights in Paris – even on the Champs Élysées.
22 December
I got an unexpected box from Ginny and one of her friends. It was full of all sorts of odds and ends which come in so handy: washcloths and V-Mail stationery, and pencils and scotch tape, and combs and bobby pins. And to top it all, a lovely pink slip with lace. I've been so GI for so long I hardly dare touch anything so feminine for fear it'll tear or something.
24 December
Dear family,
Well, "'twas the night before Christmas" and naturally we're all thinking about what's going on at home. I suppose the recent war news* has more or less put a damper on a really "merry" Christmas at home, too. It's cold enough today to make one think it's Christmas, but no snow. Water in the streets is frozen, tho'.
I hope to get near a radio about ten tonight. It's going to be odd to hear President Roosevelt's Christmas Eve message at night instead of late afternoon, and it will seem odder still to hear the King of England in the afternoon of Christmas Day rather than early in the morning. Well, lots of things are odd this year.
I've received one other gift so far aside from all the boxes from home. One of the colonels in the O.C.O.T. gave Berta and I each a bottle of wonderful perfume. We thought it was very sweet of him because we don't work for him except in a round-about way. And then - ssh - we were also given a bottle of champagne, so we're going to sneak(!) it into our billets and have a bit of a party! Hm - I'll bet you think Paris has corrupted me, but champagne over here is in about the same class as lemonade back home.
It's rather hard for us to imagine Christmas back in the States. We know it isn't the same old Christmas we've always known but we think of it as such. Snow and trees and holly and lights and music. Well, maybe next year we'll be there to enjoy it all, too.
*Editor's note: the bloody Battle of the Bulge had begun on December 16th and continued on through Christmas.
25 December
Dear family,
We've really had a very nice Christmas. In fact, very nice indeed. America got the best gift it could with headlines in Stars and Stripes, "Yanks stop Nazi attack" and with a beautiful moonlit Christmas Eve and a crisp sunny Christmas Day. Never thought I'd be so close to war that I'd be thankful for clear weather!
I worked Christmas Day because I wanted to. We discussed it very calmly as to who would work and who would be off. I much preferred working to sitting around a Paris hotel. Going along the street to work there were quite a few people out and since they were all Americans - Army - the "Merry Christmases" flew thick and fast. A bunch of fellows going by in a jeep would yell, "Merry Christmas, Sarge" - or "Merry Christmas WACie." And, of course, once in the office building there were Merry Christmases from everyone for everyone. I think that proves something or other. That in the midst of a war which we're very close to, and without any Christmas atmosphere except that we make ourselves, Americans could still keep a Christmas spirit. However, I'm afraid our thoughts on Christmas Eve seeing the wonderful "Bomber's Moon" were not those of "Peace on Earth" but rather of out and out slaughtering of the Germans. But we didn't think it was too much out of place since that is the only way we will ever have "Peace on Earth." But it was really pleasant working with such a nice spirit around. people went around munching nuts and candy (lots of packages from home) and a young lieutenant from Minneapolis and myself agreed we were missing a real Minnesota "White Christmas."
The surprise of Christmas for me and a very wonderful surprise indeed was my gift from General Ross - a wrist watch! Honestly. He gave each of his office "staff" one. Berta and I said we're going to keep ours to show to our great-great grandchildren! I've seldom been so dumbfounded.
Christmas Eve was very nice. I got out early to take part in the singing under the Arc de Triomphe, which was a total flop and quite disgusting. We'd rather forget about that. Then at 6:30 we went to candle light services at the American cathedral. Some of the WACs sang with the regular choir. I hadn't practised so didn't want to. The services were really beautiful - mostly all music. Two little old ladies were sitting next to me - it was mostly military but there were a few civilians - and one told me that the other, for the past two years, had been in hiding from the Germans, so this was a special Christmas for her.
After the services we waited outside church for the trucks which were going to take us to a General Hospital for caroling.* We "warmed" up on the way by singing good old winter songs like "Jingle Bells." The boys were so swell. They'd insist on all the girls coming in the various wards so they could see us all, and several of the more energetic ones chased a WAC or two down the hall with a piece of mistletoe. We'd keep picking up fellows who were well able to walk and when we wound up it seemed there were hundreds of us. They all wanted "White Christmas" over and over again. We sang so much and so hard that we were all hoarse when we got done. We could tell they all enjoyed it very much, and they all thanked us so. Lots of them didn't say much, some couldn't do much talking, but we could tell by their faces that they were liking it. We agreed it was the very best way to spend Christmas Eve.
After we got back to our hotel, Dorothy and I went into Berta's room for the Captain's (in our office) Christmas gift - a bottle of champagne. Betty had gotten a package of those little cocktail crackers and Berta a can of diced olives, so we had "ouvre d'ouvres" and with fruitcake we had quite a nice little Christmas Eve party. And Mary O'Toole stuck her head in with some peanut butter candy and some taffy some of the kids had made. We really enjoyed ourselves.
This morning we were permitted to come to breakfast in robe and pajamas, but since we live across the street, we really couldn't see much point in it. And for breakfast we had - fresh eggs! First time since the States. Our cadre and officers were cooks and waitresses for breakfast, and our CO, Captain Finke, got a "tip" of a cigarette for another egg for someone!
There has been a little boy around her - about ten - who was practically raised by some outfit of boys. He's enjoying a feminine Christmas this year and lots of the girls had fun giving him gifts.
In a little bit we're going up to some of the girls' room to help them eat up their packages.
*Author's note: It is not mentioned in the letters, undoubtedly because considered military information, but all American troops in Paris were confined to duty and billets during the time of the Battle of the Bulge, and during the Christmas caroling we were accompanied by Army guards, armed.
28 December
After dinner we opened our "drawn-name" gifts in the Day Room. They weren't supposed to cost over 50 francs and we had a heck of a time finding anything worth buying so cheaply. But mine was very nice. A wonderful bottle of "Evening in Paris" lotion that someone probably took out of one of her own Christmas boxes.
After that two of the girls had "open house" in their room. They live way up under the
roof where it's just like an artist's garret and so cute and cozy. They had just heaps of stuff to eat - even coffee. One of the girls is the sweetest little Swedish girl, and she'd gotten the coffee from the States. So we had a wonderful time eating and sitting around talking.
I'm anxious to get some mail from you and hear about Christmas at home. We've heard about the cold weather they're having in the States. it's very cold here, too. Possibly not much below zero but one's feet and ears surely get cold. in fact, I heard that one day it was two below, and there is frost on the streets in the morning.
I guess I'm stumped. My letters will maybe be pretty short. Just enough to say I'm fine and don't worry. So for the moment, I guess I'll "fini."
30 December
Dear family,
It stays fairly cold here. Another girl from Minnesota and myself were wondering why we feel the cold so much. we came to the conclusion that we had been in the south too long – she was at Camp Patrick Henry – and then, too, I guess we don't have enough heat either. But I'm not suffering!
Last night we went to the Paris Grand Opera. We saw "Romeo and Juliet." It was so lovely. The costumes and scenery were really breathtaking. We had box seats which were very good. The Opera building itself is very beautiful. Remember the picture the "Phantom of the Opera" when the chandelier fell down? Well, it didn't really 'cause it's still there! The ceiling way up in the dome, like all French ceilings, is beautiful paintings. Of course, everything is all elaborately carved gold – painted woodwork and the chairs and walls of the boxes are all red plush. The entrance hall is all marble and crystal chandeliers and the steps really sweep up. There's a place you wish you had a beautiful evening dress on.
But there's no heat in the place, so before the evening was over we were really cold. So in Paris now when you go to the Opera you just have to bundle up good.
The little old ladies who are ushers make me simply furious. You have to "cross their palms with silver" before they'll show you your seat. This one stood at the door of the box and before she'd open it held out her hands. We each gave her 2 francs, but it didn't satisfy her. She stood there talking a blue streak giving the very definite impression that she just didn't think it was enough. It got my dander up, and I asked her didn't she know Americans were poor in Paris? of course, she didn’t understand, but it made me feel better. But maybe she did understand – lots of the people understand more than we think.
If you can't read this writing it's because my hands are cold and I'm finding it hard to manipulate the pen.
3 January 1945
Paris, France
I guess this is the first letter I've written this year; can't quite remember just when it was that I wrote last, but anyway yesterday I got your letter of December 17.
So they had on the radio at home that the Germans had threatened to get Paris by Christmas – I trust you've heard by this time that they didn't! I knew you'd be worried, but try not to worry too much. It doesn't do any good.
Don't worry about the champagne, Dad. The kind they have now is not the real old, pre-war or 1918 vintage. the champagne they sell now is really not much different from our pop. I've never had more than three glasses at one time, but it was no different than drinking pop. Besides, it's too expensive to have much. A GI can't spend $10 to $16 for a bottle of champagne very often.
I was awfully stunned to hear about the casualties from the neighborhood. It makes me sick – it certainly makes you wonder more and more what's the sense of it all.
I was rather surprised to hear that there was no Christmas decorations and stuff. We keep imagining that things are just the same at home as they always were. And even though I know good and well that stuff is hard to buy, that there is rationing and everything, still it's hard to believe, and it seems as though at home things should be the same as ever. Maybe we get to feeling that way from talking to the boys who haven't been home for 2½ or 3 years, and it's hard to convince them about rationing and everything.