I thought it might be a nice time to step back and take a look at some of the people we’ve met in the course of telling Babe’s story. Here’s a link back to my early post introducing the characters in the beginning.
I was reminded about the picture my son took on Interstate 44 of the “Purple Heart Trail” signs in Missouri, now that we’ve gotten to Babe’s letters in which he describes being wounded and subsequently receiving his Purple Heart. Putting together the pieces that I’ve gathered over the years continues to help explain more about how Babe met his end in May 1945.
I may know a little more about the circumstances of Babe’s death. Nearly 19 years ago, I first wrote about Babe. I wrote then that I knew the cause of Babe’s death. I knew it from a handful of official documents recovered from my grandmother’s collection, and from the few additional documents I could get […]
The last letter I transcribed is one of those that includes a certain poignancy, knowing that he’s not going to make it out of the war. There are several like this, in which he makes reference to plans, ambitions or conversations he intends to have after the war. “It isn’t a long time,” he says […]
I hesitated for not a second about what the title of this blog should be. Given that Babe’s use of the “well, happy and safe” line was so ubiquitous in his letters, that had to be part of the title somehow. What was in some doubt was the use of the Oxford, or “serial,” comma. […]
I’ve put this together using a Google tool called Timeline JS. I obviously don’t know that many milestones in Babe’s life before his entry into the service in 1943, but I thought this would be a nice way to visualize some of his life and a chance for me to teach myself how to use […]
Look, it’s fairly obvious: I’ve neglected this blog terribly for more than a year. But in spite of that, readers out there have found it. I’m flattered, astonished and humbled by some of the comments that have been posted on this site by people who have seemingly stumbled upon it. In spite of the dust […]