June 23, 1944
Grace, baby,
I’ve seen more, done more, and learned more in the past few months than I imagined possible. Have I told you about the guys on our ground crews? We’ve got Chinese, Mexicans, Poles, Irish, and Negroes all working together. We may not look alike, but we eat the same bad food, follow the same crummy orders, are bitten by the same damn mosquitoes, and suffer the same blasted heat and humidity, because we all fight under the same flag to defend the same land. When this thing is over, our country will be very different. But don’t you go changing! I want my girl just the way she was.
I wish the two of us were back in your apartment, if you catch my drift. When I get home, baby, we’ll never leave the bedroom.
Loads of love, Joe
Topaz War Relocation Center
June 24, 1944
Helen!
You’ll never guess what came in the mail today-a letter from Lee Mortimer, the night-life editor for the New York Daily Mirror! He wrote, All the Japanese dolls are vanishing, leaving playful gentlemen like me to fend for ourselves- Funny, right? Turns out he’s quite fond of Oriental girls- He’s already married and divorced a couple of them- He wrote that he’s long been an admirer, thanks to Life, and complained that I’ve been too far away for him to enjoy the pleasure of my company. He’s going to sponsor me and bring me to New York right away. Right away in camp lingo could mean months, but I’m excited!
Please forgive me for sounding like I’m only thinking about myself. Here’s the most important question- How’s Eddie? Have you heard anything from him since D-Day? I know he’s all right- He has to be- He’ll dance around any and all bullets! Yes, I’m making light, but it’s the only way I know to get through these days.
Yours till the kitchen sinks, Ruby
Somewhere in the Pacific
June 27, 1944
Dearest Grace,
Have I told you how hot it is in a P-38? HOT! The guys and I strip down to our skivvies, tennis shoes, and parachute packs to fly at low altitude. We can’t outrun Zeroes when we’re close to the ground, but we’ve got superior rate of climb and our firepower is hands-down better and more effective. Grace, I want you to trust that if an engine fails or I take flak, I can drop fuel tanks and outrun the Japs all the way back to base. What I’m saying, baby, is don’t worry about me. But I sure as hell worry about you out there on the road. What if you meet some guy who didn’t get called up or maybe has flat feet? I bet you have tons of rich guys lining up to see you too. Just don’t forget about your old boy out here. Every flight I take, I’m carrying you in my heart.
Loads of love, Joe
P.S. I’ve received all your letters and packages. You sure know how to remind a guy what we’re fighting for.
Train to St. Louis
July 10, 1944
Dearest Joe,
I’ll take your heat and raise you some. I had to sleep in a tornado shelter the other night. I’d forgotten the Midwest’s humidity. Yuck! You must have forgotten it too, or is it really hotter than blazes flying over the ocean? Seems crazy to me, but what do I know? I miss you. I pray that you’ll be careful. Promise you’ll come back to me.
Forever yours, Grace
Train to Chicago
July 12, 1944
Dear Helen,
Is there anyone besides you and Tommy left in San Francisco? I’ve run into George Louie, the Lim Sisters, Jack and Irene Mak and their two kids- I hate to say it, but our friends are still doing a bang-up job of putting the chill on me. The Merry Mahjongs and the Lim Sisters mostly ignore my presence, but George has become the road king of spite. (He’s sleeping his way across the country, just in case you want to know. The guy goes bananas for that you-know-what place between a girl’s legs. I’ve seen him arrive in town, date one, two, three girls, and then hit a dry patch, so to say, which means the gossip mill has gotten going and he’s plumb out of luck. He doesn’t worry about it, because a new crop of girls is just a town and a gig up the track.) Anyway- He can’t decide which accusation he likes more-that I ratted out Ruby or that I hid two Japanese in my apartment. I’ve tried to wave him off. “Aw, tell it to someone who cares.” If he blabs on, I say, “Run along now, Georgie. Your mother’s calling you.” Jack and Irene tolerate me, though, because I’m a good babysitter. Thank Tommy for teaching me the ropes!
You haven’t written to me. What’s up?
Your gal pal, Grace
Somewhere in the Pacific
July 13, 1944
Grace, baby,
I only have a few minutes. I had a wild day! Shot down two Zeroes! Lots of great pilots out here. I need to measure up. I miss you like mad. Why didn’t I have you meet me in Winnetka when I visited my folks? We could have borrowed my dad’s car and gone to Niagara Falls. You never know what can happen in this world. I miss you, baby.
I love you, love you, love you, Joe
Train to Cedar Rapids
July 23, 1944
Dearest Joe,
The words you wrote make my heart soar. Maybe that sounds corny, but that’s how love is supposed to sound. I love you too. I’ve loved you from the moment we first met. Then we went through all that rigmarole- So much wasted time- But now I’m yours and you’re mine- Niagara Falls! Oh, Joe! I’m so happy!
I just finished a gig in Omaha with Dorothy Toy-the first, and still the truest, Chinese Ginger Rogers. Did I ever tell you she’s my idol? I used to watch her in the movie theater back in Plain City. Her partner-Paul Wing-was called up four months ago and is in a tank in Europe, so Dorothy and her sister came out on the Chop-Suey Circuit to kill time-just like me. I told her, Even though we never met, we lived in the same apartment building in San Francisco. I should have said something about what an inspiration she’s been all these years. She’s the nicest gal. Dorothy has encouraged me to broaden my act to incorporate some patter and a couple of songs. I now start with “I came from a town so small it didn’t even have a Chinese restaurant.” That always gets a chuckle.
I’m blabbing on like a fool when all I want to do is kiss you and tell you how much I love you. I LOVE YOU! I think of you every minute of every day.
Love, Grace
Train to Cedar Rapids
July 23, 1944
Dear Helen,
Joe loves me and I love him, but I’m not being totally honest with him. He can’t understand what it’s like for me out here. I’m alone most of the time-traveling from club to club, city to city, sometimes playing shows near military bases. I’ve come across a lot of Victory Girls, who’ll sleep with any man in uniform. I’m not one of them, but I worry that Joe might start to take what I’m doing the wrong way-
I don’t have much in the way of companionship, so I have loads of time to read magazines and go to movies. I see a lot of ads begging women to work for the war effort while remaining feminine for when our men come home. Don’t those magazine people know we’re changing? I’ve watched movies that praise brave widows. If, God forbid, something happens to Eddie, I know you’ll be brave, but what will happen to your heart after all you’ve already been through? Those movie people don’t think about that. Then there’s the battle against Victory Girls. It’s led by another bunch of men-this time in Washington-and it’s downright sneaky. Women-like us-who work in clubs and bars that cater to our boys, are being accused of being patriotic amateurs. They accuse us of staging orgies in the barracks. That’s ridiculous, and a long way from being labeled a Khaki-wackie! And it makes me sick. Rumors have been circulating that some Victory Girls average fifty or more encounters a night. (Come on!) And did you see that Life article? The reporter wrote that a diseased Victory Girl can do far more damage than a 500-pound bomb dropped right in the middle of an Army camp. It’s not fair, and it makes me fighting sore every time I think about it, because aren’t our boys making love too? They’re the instigators for heaven’s sake! You think they get in trouble or in trouble? No! They’re told they need sex to be good soldiers! But if a girl is rounded up and found to have a venereal disease, she can be held for the duration. Exactly how long might that be? Months? Years?