Letter from France, 1944

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The letter has been in a family scrapbook all these years. It is from my uncle, Maj. George [[Bud) Downing, to his brother Rudy [[my Dad):

"France -- July 12, 1944
"Dear Ruddy.....
"Just a line to let you know I received your V-mail [[in fact, it was the first letter I received in France) and much appreciated it. Yes, I have a ring-side seat at the "biggest show on earth", and believe me, it's really a show. Naturally, I cannot discuss military operations in a letter, so suffice it to say that I am in the big middle of things and see much going on.

"It is not nearly as tough as I had imagined. Of course, it's the poor gallant doughboys who really have it tough. But I manage to get enough sleep -- fairly good food -- and don't have to duck too much. We are shelled once in a while, and every night Herman the Vermin flies over and drops one bomb [[has always missed, so far) -- but that's nothing to us now. In fact, I've had only one really close call so far.

"The infantry fighting is rough. The country here is made up of tiny fields and orchards, each about 100 yards square. Around each little field, on all four sides, is a high ledge; a thick, thicket-like thing, throug which you almost have to hack your way. The funny part of it is, through generations of cultivating, a thick, breast high rampart of earth has piled up at each ledge, thus: [[sketches cross section of hedgrow). So each ledge is almost like a trench, and each one has to be assaulted separately. It is pretty grisly.

"The inevitable horrors don't bother me. I sort of see them, but don't see them, if you know what I mean. What I do see is the thrilling courage, gallantry, and skill of our boys. You can ount on them -- they are fine soldiers -- and keep their typical American humor all the time. I am very proud to be one of them.

"Our artillery is tremendous. I never saw anything like it. It is really marvelous!

"I enjoy seeing the French. Most of them are extremely happy to see us [[tho some appear rather sullen -- and some have sniped at us -- for a minute). This is the dairy country of France and they work in the fields, or are busy cleaning out the rubble in their ruined villages. They appear rather well fed, but poorly clothed. Most wear wooden shoes. I talk to them occasionally in my school-boy French, and manage to get along fairly well. It's fun.

"Well -- I must be along with my business. Do drop me a line again, soo, Ruddy. Rest assured that little Buddy is being careful!

The best to you == Bud"

Uncle Bud survived the war, and came home to a sales management job at General Electric, after which he became an adjunct professor at the University of Arizona. He died in his retirement home in Seattle on December 6, 1988, age 76, and his cremains are interred at Arlington National Cemetery, not far from the grave of his son, John Downing, a ground casualty of the Vietnam War.

Just a little story to share on this Memorial Day.

Thank you Ray.

A wonderful letter. Thank you for sharing. The part "about the horrors, I see it, but I don't really see it" is so poignant.

Just watched Saving Private Ryan and thank God for people like that who enable us to have a freedom like we enjoy!!

Thanks Ray. My uncle fought through the hedgerows in Belgium and France and, although he would rarely talk about it, had some harrowing tales to tell about the experience.

Thanks again Ray, and Thanks to all that have helped defend the USA.