ThinkPint2

Letters Home

By Donald E. Phillips

In the 20 months Don was a POW he sent 48 cards and letters to his parents. Each postcard permitted 7 lines of writing. Each letter allowed for 24 lines on a one-sided 9 1/2 by 5 1/4 inch tri-fold letter with the address on the back side. A normal letter was usually no longer than 130 words. Nineteen of these communications are reproduced below. Don chose to send most of his allotted letters to his parents to be shared with the rest of the family. The themes in the letters are consistent: getting home soon, food, trying to be optimistic, and thinking of family. Letters were censored by prison officials.

o o o

Sept. 15, 1943

Dearest Mom & Dad

You will be glad to know that I am a P. of W. I am not injured in any way. Apply to the nearest Red Cross Agent for all information. My address for reply will be Lt. Donald Phillips, Stalag Luft 3, Deutschland

Your Loving Son
DONALD

This postcard was written 9 days after Don was captured. By that time he had been in solitary confinement, interrogated, and then transferred to Stalag Luft III, the POW camp near Sagan.

o o o

Sept. 27, 1943

Dearest Mom & Dad

I’m allowed four letters a month and though there’s little new to tell you’ll at least know I’m well and thinking of you.

I have enough to do to take up my time and that helps loads. We do our own cooking and I’m improving a little but yours is still the best cooking on earth, and it will be a happy day when I’m eating it again.

As for my health, I never felt better in my life. Hope you and all the family are as well. I have some warm clothes and all I miss is my pipe & tobacco.

The Red Cross is a marvelous organization, and never again will I believe a word against them or refuse them anything within my power to give.

That’s all for now. All my love to all of you. DONALD

o o o

October 25, 1943

Dearest Mom & Dad

By now the first of my letters should have reached you. I hope it wasn’t too long between the time you were notified I was missing and the assurance that I was okay.

I’m fine. Last week was very warm, just like Indian Summer. Lots of time for thinking and I’m doing a lot of postwar planning. Needless to say, plans for the first week include eating, eating, and more of the same. Not that I’m starving here, but I’m hungry for some of Mrs. Phil’s famous cooking.

Tell all the family hello for me, and that I think of all of them often. Keep my summer uniform all pressed and waiting cause I’ll be wearing it next summer, I hope. Lots of love to you all. DONALD

o o o

Nov. 7, 1943

Dearest Folks

Two months today since I was shot down. Time passes faster than I thought it would, and every passing day brings closer the day when I’ll be home again.

Everything is still much the same. I’m getting enough to eat and clothes enough to wear plus a chance to keep clean so I can’t complain. We have a theatre and quite often they put on plays and debates and concerts.

By the way, tell Ray (Ray Ripley, his nephew) that I’ve got lots to tell him about planes and parachute jumps when I get home.

Comes the end of the page so I’ll just wish all of you happy holidays and the best of health. Take good care of yourselves and I’ll do the same. All my love to all the family. DONALD

o o o

Dec. 9, 1943

Dearest Folks and Family

Same old news, which is no news at all. We’ve had some freezing weather already and I’m hoping it will be a short winter. I’m okay, not losing any weight, and keeping as clean as possible. We skimped along before Thanksgiving and managed to bake a fruit cake a piece. Next Thanksgiving we’ll really have a feast, won’t we?

I’m expecting your first letter in the next month. Nothing would suit me better for a Christmas present than to get word that you’re all okay. Until that day when I come walking up the front steps again, take care of yourselves and don’t worry about me. Lots of love to all the family. DONALD

o o o

Jan. 3, 1944

Dearest Mom and Dad

At last I can write in answer to one of your letters again. Two of them came New Year’s Eve along with your snapshot. I don’t know when a picture has meant so much to me. Never before, I guess. That plus your good letters assuring me that all is well at home, makes me feel a hundred percent better.

Had a big Christmas dinner complete with plum pudding and fruit cake.

I am well. Still getting enough to eat, warm clothes to wear, and a place to sleep so I can’t complain. The weather hasn’t been bad yet, only a few cold days. I’m proud to hear I have a name sake and you may be sure I’ll buy him that wagon when I return. That’s all for now. All my love to you and the family. DON

Don had been interred four months before he received a letter from home.

o o o

Jan. 23, 1944

Dear Folks

Your first package arrived yesterday; everything was in good shape and greatly appreciated. Seemed just like Christmas.

Everything is well here. The weather is surprisingly warm so I’ve been getting plenty of exercise and fresh air and I feel great. As soon as spring comes we’re going to start gardening on a large scale. Our diet at present lacks vegetables, otherwise it’s not bad. However if you can, include some food and vitamin tablets in your parcels.

That’s all the news from here. Haven’t had any more mail yet, but I hope and trust you and the family are okay. Remember me to my friends. All my love to you. DONALD

o o o

Mar. 30, 1944

Dearest Mother & Dad

Just got another of your letters; I think they’re all coming through, judging from the date intervals. I’m glad to hear that you’re getting mine. We’ll have lots of things to talk over some day, won’t we? Unless I miss my guess, that day will come this fall or early winter.

Everything’s okay here. Snow and sunshine is the best way I can describe the weather. It can’t seem to make up its mind.

Must be about time for Dot’s (D. Rittenhouse, his sister) baby. I’ll be thinking of her and hoping she gets her girl. Had a card from Warren and Clara (Ocoya relatives) today. They didn’t mention Vern; I presume he’s okay. Give my love to all the children, (his nieces and nephews) cause I can’t send them cards. Keep the packages coming as you have been. Take care of yourselves. Love, DON

This letter was written just six days after The Great Escape. History records that the security in the camp was heightened considerably right after the escape. Obviously nothing like this would ever be mentioned in letters which were censored.

o o o

May 19, 1944

Dear Folks

My best cure for the blues, which bother only occasionally, is to read and re-read your letters–which I just finished doing. If absence makes the heart grow even fonder, and I’m convinced of it, I’ll be so attached to you when I return that you’ll have me underfoot continually like a pet kitten.

Everything okay here, as always. Packages coming thru okay. Oh yes, due to a new regulation it is not advisable to send dried fruits.

Have you ever heard from Russell Philpit? He was here and was sent home in Feb., and he promised he’d write you.

Give my love to all the children (his nieces and nephews). I think of all of them often; wish I could write each of them. My friends have all written swell letters. And of course you know I send you all my love. DONALD

o o o

June 20, 1944

Dear Mother and Dad

I’m taking trumpet lessons now; started this week. Johnny Ward, the composer of “Night Again”, and another tune since then, is giving me lessons. He’s a grand guy, a good teacher, and I’m enjoying the experience. Tell Ray (Ray Ripley, his nephew) he and I will play a duet some day.

It’s nice that you correspond with the other crew member’s parents. Pete (the pilot from his plane and then a POW in same combine) and I have often wondered where all the crew is. We only know of the two you wrote us about. Just another of the many things we’ll have to talk over some day, I guess. Pete, incidentally, is quite a guy, a big raw-boned Swede with four-foot shoulders and a chest like a young bull.

Keep well and happy, and some one of these weeks I’ll be calling to tell you which train to meet. Lots of love, DONALD

In the letter above Don wonders what happened to the 10 men in his crew captured on September 6, 1943. He and the pilot ended up in the same place, but evidently they knew nothing about the rest of the crew.

o o o

June 30, 1944

Dear Mother and Dad

Another month gone and summer well underway. This place seems to be almost free of flies, a good thing since of course we have no screens. Hope your farm work is coming on okay and that the increased acreage isn’t too much.

October 5 will mark your 40th wedding anniversary, will it not? Maybe I’ll be home then, who knows? If not I’ll bake a cake and celebrate the occasion here. I could certainly use one of those fried chickens and I appreciate Greg’s (Greg Rittenhouse, his nephew) suggestion that you send one, if that were possible.

There will certainly be many, many simple little things I’ll appreciate that I never noticed before. That’s all for now. Time for a trumpet lesson, an hour that I really enjoy. Lots of love to all, DONALD

The D-Day Invasion has occurred and the hopes among the POWs was very high after the Invasion.

o o o

Aug. 10, 1944

Dear Folks

I’d almost bet you a new living room suite against a dinner of fried chicken and cherry pie that I reach home before this letter does–but if I do I’ll get the dinner anyway and if not I won’t be there to buy the other.

Everything is okay here. We’re having good weather and still killing the time playing ball and lying in the sun. I can remember a time when I thought I’d be living the life of Riley with nothing more than I do here–but I can see I was a mere youngster then. Which reminds me, another birthday has come and gone since my last letter. (Don’s 26th birthday was August 1.) My combine members baked a huge delicious cake for the occasion. You’d be amazed at the cakes some of these boys can bake without flour or baking powder. So much for now. All my love, DONALD

o o o

Sept. 23, 1944

Dear Folks

I note with misgivings that only 77 shopping days remain before Christmas. Things will have to speed up if I’m to be there in time to tie my knick knacks on the tree.

Naturally, I spend lots of time here wondering about a post-war occupation, after I’ve graduated from pinks to tweeds. Impossible to come to a decision here. It’s late in life to be thinking of school and yet I’m tempted. Could go back to my old trade and possibly will. There are many advantages–I have to think of a family before my teeth and hair fall out for one thing. One page letters are a headache. Can’t cover a subject at all before you run out of paper. Lots of love to all the family and I hope you’re all as well as I. DON

o o o

Sept. 29, 1944

Dear Mother and Dad

A new shipment of personal parcels has arrived, an event comparable now to buying a new car or enjoying a shopping spree a couple of years ago. I’m reminded of that cartoon “Big events in the lives of little men.”

All goes much the same here. Cooler weather has taken the edge off the softball season and I spend more time reading again. Hope it won’t be necessary to spend another winter here, but if so, we’ll get by.

I’ve done very little concentrated studying here. The only thing that has gotten more than a spasmodic effort from me is the trumpet and I’ve been blowing it religiously. Always thinking of you and all the family and very glad to get your letters, and always looking forward to the big day. Love, DON

o o o

October 19, 1944

Dearest Mother and Dad

I hit a jackpot today–fifteen of your letters. Evidently mine go home in the same fashion. I certainly enjoy them and I hope mine are as cheerful and encouraging to you.

For the past few months I’ve been killing part of my time cutting hair. The first few attempts were pretty gruesome but as we see only each other here, nobody cares, and time and experience have improved my technique somewhat. Still taking trumpet lessons but it takes months to build up my lip muscles. Time passes well enough and of course we all hope it won’t be long now. Glad to hear everyone is so well at home including the two new additions to the family (a niece, Beth Rittenhouse, and nephew, John Rhoda, born April and May respectively). Loads of love to all of you. DONALD

o o o

Oct. 23, 1944

Dear Mom and Dad

Just was re-reading all your letters of which I now have about 80 and noted a reference in one of them to a new litter of kittens. We have here a camp cat who is as regular and fruitful as old Jacko was. Her last attempt was evidently a maximum effort and she came through with eight.

I am resigned to the idea of spending Thanksgiving here now though I’m still hopeful in regard to Christmas at home. Seems like a lifetime since Xmas of ’40.

In case you’re ever in doubt as to what to send in personal parcels, send food. Baking powder, flour, spices, etc, and send the limit. I should have clothes enough to last the war out now. Hope both you and the family are as well as I. Lots of love to all of you. DONALD

o o o

Nov. 7, 1944

Dearest Folks

July-Sept parcels arrived since I last wrote, and very welcome it was. Several letters too, and I’m amazed and of course pleased to hear that Blanche and Raymond (Ripley, his sister and brother in law) are expecting. (Surprise! Theresa Ripley was already on the scene September 24, 1994, but news was slow getting to Germany.) What a prolific family I have! The three of them (all of his sisters) seem to be having a contest to see who can show me the most new faces when I return. No disrespect intended–I’m all for it. Best I get home and enter into competition, though. I’m tired of this monastic life.

Hope you harvested a decent crop of corn and have settled down to the comparative relaxation that winter affords. Christmas greetings to all of you–think I’ll spend the holiday abroad again. Ho hum. I’ll pin my hopes on a new Easter bonnet. Tell all the children Happy Holidays from Uncle Don. Take care of yourselves. Lots of love, DONALD

o o o

Dec.21, 1944

Dear Folks

I have a few things I want you to send me; hope you’ll get his letter in time to include them in my March to May parcel. I want a pair of dress oxfords, brown, size 9C. Buy good ones if they’re available. Next, a wrist watch, something in the 25 dollar class. If possible buy a waterproof, shockproof non-magnetic one with luminous dial and sweep-second hand. If you have to pay fifty dollars, okay. My money is doing me very little good here. Also, in each parcel, send at least four of those large Hershey bars with almonds, the size that Dot U. sent. I say at least four, more if regulations permit. Other than that, all food. Dehydrated figs, dates, and bananas, cake mixes, cake and pancake flour, baking powder or soda, spices. This letter sounds like an order to Sears but I know that you know I’m thinking of you & send my love. DON

This letter would give the impression that the POWs were preparing for a forced evacuation of the camp. This letter was written at the start of the Battle of the Bulge undoubtedly known about in the camp since they had access to all BBC reports on their radios kept secretly in the camp.

o o o

Jan. 6 1945

Dear Mother and Dad

Our combine has evolved a new plan in regard to food from home so these instructions supersede all others in regard to food. In my next parcel please send: 1 20 oz. pkg. of Pillsbury’s pancake flour, a 1 lb. dried apples, 8 oz. soluble coffee, 1 lb. corn starch, 1 lb. beans, 1 lb. box of macaroni, 3 pkgs. vegetable soup mix (not box type), 1 oz. cinnamon, 1 1/2 oz. can nutmeg, 2 oz. can allspice. This accounts for 7 lbs. For the remaining 4 lbs–in my last letter I asked for a pair of brown 9C dress oxfords (good ones) and a $25 to $50 wrist watch, waterproof, shockproof, with luminous dial. If you haven’t sent these include them in this one. If you already have send 3 or 4 t-shirts, various patterns and colors and 3 pr. of shorts, size 30. Everything is okay here. I’m looking forward to spring and warm weather again. Hope all is well at home. Love, DON

There was a 3-month gap in the next letter written by Don to his parents. Stalag Luft III was evacuated on January 29, 1945, in the midst of the coldest winter of the last 30 years to avoid the camp being captured by the Russians. The 10,000 prisoners both walked and were transported in crowded boxcars. The final destination was Moosberg or Stalag VIIA, another German camp with very crowded conditions and poor facilities.

o o o

April 8, 1945

Dear Folks

While I do expect to beat this home still I remember feeling that way last fall and all for nothing so best I keep writing. All is well here. Cooking is quite a different proposition here than at Stalag III. Here we cook on stoves which we make from the empty tins from Red Cross food parcels. Mine is a two-man stove, a tiny thing 6″ x 10″ x 7″, with a doll’s oven 2″ x 5″ x 5″. I think Jeannine (J. Rhoda, his niece) would get a bang out of cooking on it. With spring weather coming on, my combine buddy and myself sit out in the sun and cook as long as the food holds out. Don Wassner and I have been holding some lengthy bull sessions and as I said before it seems damn nice to find someone from home. Perhaps soon now I’ll be holding some of those lengthy bull sessions with you and all the family. I’ve looked forward to that day for so long that sometimes it seems it will never get here. Love to all from DON

The POWs were liberated on April 29, 1945, by General George S. Patton and troops of the Third Army.

o o o

Early May 1945

Dear Mother and Dad

What a long time since I’ve written you on one of those forms! (He is writing on V-Mail forms instead of prisoner mail forms.) The long awaited day has arrived at last, and it certainly seems great to be surrounded by G.I.’s instead of Goons.

As to when I’ll be home, I think a month to six weeks will find me trekking into Pontiac. I suppose will land in New York and Pete (his combine buddy and former pilot) wants to buy a car there and drive to Chicago, so I’ll drive thru with him.

I am in good health, was afraid you might think I’d been kidding you about that for the past 20 months so you wouldn’t worry. Haven’t gone bald or lost my teeth, but I am thinner. A few weeks of your cooking will remedy that. The latest news I have of you is now six months old, but I’m confident everyone is okay. So, give my regards to the family and expect the black sheep home in June. Love DON

o o o

Posted May 31, 1945
May 21, Abroad Ship

Dear Folks

This is where I came in. (Don sailed across to England in 1943.) All of it, the life preservers, the constant easy roll of the ship, the hammock like cots, and a dozen other things bring to mind the Queen Mary and 25 green navigators, off to England. Coincidentally, another of the original 25 is on board with me now, having travelled approximately the same roads as I during the past 22 months.

Speaking of ship’s roll, this is a much rougher crossing so far. For one thing we’re on a boat one-fourth the size of the Queen and for another the weather just naturally isn’t calm. My stomach hasn’t revolted yet, but I’m knocking on wood. Then too, as I stagger and slide around on deck I can see the advantage in being an octopus or a centipede–anything with a lot of legs–two are highly inadequate!

Left LeHavre, France on May 19 enroute to Trinidad, then New York. To go a bit further back–liberated Apr. 29, rode a G.I. truck to Straubing on May 8, flew to LeHavre, spent 10 days there being fed, clothed, bathed, shot, and interrogated–and here we are, on our way home and darned eager to get there! Why I had to hit this boat bound for South America , I don’t know. At another time I’d probably welcome the trip.

I’m feeling great–have started filling out already and should soon have regained the few pounds that knocking around Germany peeled off me. Life holds so many things in store for me again, for instance, today I used the first hair tonic since September ’43, yesterday I had my first orange and apple since then; I’m still sweating out ice cream and Coca-cola.

Gradually, too, I’m catching up on the news, there are always back issues of Times and Newsweek to be found. Tomorrow we’re supposed to have our pictures taken for release to the hometown paper. Was just thinking what a surprise it would be to you if they managed to get it in before I got home, and without your knowing it beforehand.

Oh yes, the day before I left Moosberg (Stalag VIIA) I saw Bob Shook (an Ocoya neighbor and fellow POW). Of all the boys I didn’t expect to see, he was the last! But life is full of surprises, I’m finding. Anyway, in case this reaches you before either Bob or myself gets home, he’s fine, fatter than I last knew him, and should be on his way home soon. Somehow I always expected to see P.D. come straggling into camp–but he never did. Of course, it’s been over six months since I’ve had word from any one.

I saw the comic strip Blonde the other day. Judging from the way their children have grown, I suppose all my nieces and nephews have sprouted beyond recognition almost. I dream of all of you occasionally–funny thing, I always seem to be dreaming of the McMahon family (other Ocoya neighbors) Can’t explain it.

I had hoped to stop over in New York for a day but it seems we’re going straight to Ft. Sheridan so I won’t be able to. I should be home, actually home by June 8th or 10th, and as things stand now, I’ll have 60 days leave. So I’ll get to spend a birthday at home–the first one since ’41.

The food on board ship is fine; two big meals a day plus a snack at dinner. Then too there’s the luxury of toilets that flush, lavatories with running water–and mirrors. All in all, this G.I. way of life is the nuts! Soldiers of any other nationality are just naturally fighting for the wrong country. I wonder if the German POW’s in the States realize how fortunate they are. Their country is nothing but ruins–all of it. So much for tonite. See you in three weeks or less. I check off the days now.

May 22, 1945

Much calmer today. You don’t have to chase your peas all around the tray and back. Other days they acted like Mexican jumping beans.

After reading various articles about the shortages in the States, I’m all confused. Some writers seem to think conditions are much the same, others paint a picture that resembles the chaotic destitution of Europe. I read of black markets on eggs and young fries and wonder how you’re affected by all this. Then too, Life has pictures of milelong lines for cigarettes. Guess I’ll just have to wait till I get home and see how drastic has been the change.

We are travelling in a convoy with some eight or ten other ships. Today I watched them transferring fuel from our ship to a smaller one. This, of course, is done as we go–I don’t think we even slowed down. Actually, I guess it’s not much of a maneuver but to someone like myself it was impressive. Tomorrow we are supposed to leave the convoy and strike off for Trinidad–the rest go straight to N.Y.

Had hoped to be home in time for the Derby, June 9th. I’ve always wanted to see one run–might still make it.

May 28, 1945
Tomorrow we dock at Trinidad. Everything’s been going smoothly, the weather’s been lovely. Although it’s getting hot now that we’re in tropical waters. Some of the fellows sleep out on deck–it’s damned hot down below.

I spend an hour or less each day watching the flying fishes cavort and flit about. They’re little devils, only six or eight inches long and they come zipping out of the water and fly along a foot above it for 20 or 30 yards. Occasionally, too, we run into a school of porpoise.

I’m gaining weight like furious; have a cute(?) little roll of fat now that blouses over my belt when I sit. There’s no room to exercise here–I’ll soon remove that roll at home.

I’ll close now and hope to get this posted tomorrow. I don’t think we exkriegies are allowed ashore but some friend will no doubt help me. I guess this is the first long letter since way back when. Oh yes, our latest ETA for N.Y. is June 5th–so I’ll be home around the 10th. Love DON

o o o

This newspaper clipping appeared in the local hometown paper describing the third Sunday in June, 1945.

Honored At Dinner

A family dinner was enjoyed Sunday at the home of Mr. and Mrs. R.W.E. Phillips, which not only celebrated Dad’s Day, but also the return of their son, Lieut. Donald Phillips, who spent nearly two years in a German prisoner of war camp and recently returned to his home here.

All members of the family were in attendance at the dinner, they being Mr. and Mrs. Raymond Ripley, Mr. and Mrs. Edwin C. Rhoda and Mr. and Mrs. Floyd Rittenhouse, and their families, and Lieut. Donald Phillips. Miss Tillie Klein, of Pontiac, sister of Mrs. Phillips, also was present.

* * *

The people present at this dinner were Don’s parents, Ralph and Amelia; three sisters, Blanche Ripley, Bernice Rhoda, and Dorothy Rittenhouse; three brother-in-laws (names given above); his aunt, Tillie Klein; and his nieces and nephews, a total of 11 at the time. They included Jeannine, Jim, Sue, Dave, Martha, and John Rhoda; Greg, Norman, and Beth Rittenhouse; and Ray and Theresa Ripley.