If My Heart Had Wings: A World War II Love Story(10)

“What did you do after he left?”

“I went to school! That didn’t change. I took classes and did my work and went out with my girlfriends.”

Her voice softened a little, when she added, “And I wrote letters—lots and lots of letters.”

Almost every day, as it turned out. And sometimes she sent him care packages full of homemade cookies.

“Sounds like a lot of work,” I commented.

“It was. But I really wanted to do it—it was my way of helping him through.”

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M INTER FIELD WAS NOT much more than a two-week pit stop where the guys gave up the last vestiges of civilian life and received their preliminary training. Basically, it was a holding tank for some nine hundred cadets, who were then farmed out to one of ten primary training fields to begin their actual flight training. It was also the place where Lyndon wrote his first letters home.

Years later, I would wish with all my heart that I could have read those letters Mom wrote to Lyndon during the war, and the ones he wrote to her, but not a single one exists. I asked her once what became of them, and she said, “Oh, they’re long gone. Once I remarried it seemed pointless to keep them.”

Maybe it seemed pointless to her, but it sure didn’t to me.

Then, just a few years ago, lightning struck. Long after Mom had passed on, quite extraordinarily, I gained access to a cache of twenty-eight of Lyndon’s wartime letters. Although none of them were written to Mom, they gave Lyndon a voice, a point of view, feelings, and a life. He was real, not just some mythical character. And as I read his scribbled observations, explanations, requests, and jokes, the young pilot who married my mother slowly began to emerge.

There was the lonesome boy far from home:

... this has been a rather lonely day. Easter Sunday has always been a busy day with candy and flowers and new hats and suits for some. But it’s just another day around here...



There was the serious, determined student who reported from primary training:

Got a 97 in Navigation test, 95 in a Math test, but a 60 in an Airplane Structure test. That one I didn’t do so well in was a surprise test, but I’ll be ready for him next time.



There was the annoyed, possessive older brother:

... I do not want Willis to get ahold of either my suit or this coat because he’d misuse it for sure.



There was the chastened soldier:

I had to “walk the ramp” for ? hour last Sunday... because of dusty bed springs, dust above the door frame, and [a] crooked lamp shade. This Sunday I have to “walk” about 2 hours for an error on a report...



And there was the proud cadet:

The cadet is the envy of most of the soldiers around here because of the quality and neatness of our uniforms, pay, life we lead here and the way the “girls go for cadets.”



Then he added modestly:

“I haven’t noticed any of the last item as far as I’m concerned, however—probably mostly because I don’t think I’m as interested in others as I used to be.



This last remark, so casually tossed off, was one of several he made about his growing feelings toward Mom. Surprisingly, he didn’t seem to get really serious about her until after he left home. But just six weeks into his training, he sent this request along with a money order to his parents:

Sometime in the near future have Nina and possibly her folks over for a dinner and use this to buy some more ice cream and make it a pretty good meal... If I were home now, I’d do it myself, but when I was home I didn’t think as I do now...



Ten days later, in another letter to his parents, he included this rather cryptic announcement:

Even though I couldn’t be there last Sunday, I wanted you all to know now, more or less officially, that there’s someone else I miss not seeing. I didn’t realize I would until I got out here, and now it’ll be quite a while before I get back and can make up for some of the time I wasted.



Absence had definitely made his heart grow fonder—and more serious! In letters that followed, Lyndon strongly encouraged his parents to get to know his girlfriend better, beginning with:

Nina has several pictures that I’ve sent her... why don’t you ask her to stop in some afternoon or evening with them?





In another, he gently nudged:

She’s been gone on a choir trip but should be home now.



In a third, he hinted:

She’s a little shy and bashful probably but now that it’s quiet around there... maybe it’ll be a little easier to get better acquainted.



The guy was pushing hard to forge a connection between his parents and his girlfriend—and the sooner, the better.



Lyndon arrives at basic training – February, 1942

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B ESIDES THE WINDFALL of letters, I also got my hands on a copy of Lyndon’s personnel file from the Department of the Army. And, with these two sources, plus some of my own research, I was able to come up with a pretty clear idea of what Lyndon was doing throughout 1942-43.

In February, after settling in at Minter Field, he wrote that he and his newbie cadets did “a little drilling and a lot of sitting around,” the major activities being getting shots, listening to lectures, and taking tests. He worried about the possibility that he might not make the grade but hung on to a positive attitude: