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Home Front Letters: R. L. Simons

With the writers’ written permission, I will be sharing some of their vivid memories of the past, especially of the 1940s. I have begun a collection in Aikin Regional Archives of the written memories of people who lived through the turbulent years of World War II, including memories of America’s Home Front, and many of them have given me permission to excerpt their wonderful letters for the readers of this Web site.

The letters, pictures, and other papers which they have sent me become a permanent part of this collection in Aikin Regional Archives. Since I cannot possibly answer and continue a correspondence with each writer, a very talented history student, Mrs. Yvette Myles, is helping me with the letters this semester. Many thanks to Yvette and to her PJC history instructor, Alan Williams, for this assistance.

Think of the great learning experience it’s been for Yvette, who reads and answers each letter.

From Kansas City, Kan., R.L. Simons (Simmons) says:

“I think of WWII every day. I was about 10-14 during that time. I didn’t understand how serious it was, but I knew it was a pain. I tell people I couldn’t have made it if it wasn’t for my ‘girlfriend.’ Our corner store was a few doors from us. If they got in any candy or bacon, she would run down and tell me that she laid back some bacon or candy bars. I think I was addicted to Snickers candy bars.

We were in love for about 5 years and then went our ways, but I never forgot her. I’m still eating Snickers and think about the old days whenever I see one. I laugh about the price of them, also.

Meat was so hard to get that I would pay a nickel to ride the bus to the ice plant where my big brother worked. They used Italian prisoners of war to load the box cars with blocks of ice. They had a small camp at the G.M. plant where they lived. The army cooks would bring their lunch in big insulated cans, and they ate the same food as the G.I.s.

I’d go to school and brag about the big steaks or meat loaf dinners I had. Those prisoners were just young guys not much older than me. But, of course, some of the kids said I was friends with the enemy and they might kidnap me. I think they were jealous. Those army cooks would pile my tray up with more than I could eat ... I often wonder what happened to those Italians. Oh well! That’s ancient history.”

As you can see, many of my correspondents were just children or young adults during those days, too young to fight, but not too young to remember how it was.

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