Eleanor Roosevelt – My Day (1942)

223

September 16, 1942

New York – (Tuesday)
It seems curious to me that we accept with much less excitement so drastic an action as the right of the War Manpower Commission to shift workers without their consent to new places of abode, or into other fields of work; and yet seem to find it so difficult to accept any suggestions for new types of taxation.

I was much interested in Senator George’s remark that the Treasury’s “Spending Tax” was a levelling tax. I supposed that was the type of tax we were looking for at present. It must be however, that the pull of material interest has always been one of our strongest motivating forces and is still stronger in the minds of most of us than the right to work where and whenever we choose.

I think that in the present situation we have to accept as workers in civilian life, or even as private individuals, the decrees of our government in exactly the same way that soldiers have to accept them. I would not oppose any of these decrees. The only thing which surprises me is, that where our pockets are concerned, we fight so much harder and apparently so much more successfully against certain drastic changes.

I suppose it is in our tradition and it will take us longer to make the changes. In the end we will accept them, as we do everything else when we realize that to do so will shorten the war and give our boys a better chance to come through alive.

There is no retreat for the defenders of Stalingrad. As we read this morning that their lines stiffen, I think everyone in this country must want to express his admiration for their extraordinary ability to stand and to take it.

The RAF and our own men seem to be effectively continuing their raids on Germany, but it does not look as though raids alone were the final answer to the battle of Europe. All we can do is to pray that our production will really reach the point where decisive action can be taken.

As I came down from Westbrook, Connecticut, yesterday, a man sat down beside me. He had been to Bridgeport trying to get into a defense workers school. He was married and had a child, and his own business had been ruined by the war, but so far he had not been able to get anywhere. Apparently, there is still a pool of workers in New York City, who have not found jobs.

Jacqueline Cochran has earned her appointment to direct women’s air work and women everywhere will be proud of her achievement.

224

September 17, 1942

Washington – (Wednesday)
Yesterday I went from New York City to Orange, New Jersey, to spend a few hours with my cousin, Mrs. Henry Parish. By this time, I thought I had learned all the mistakes I could possibly make in the Hudson Tube, but I took the wrong local and had to take another one back a station in order to get the right one.

I paid my fare twice and thought there was a gleam of amusement in the man’s eye when he informed me that I did not need to pay a second time. So ten cents, which might have gone to buy a war stamp, went into the Hudson Tube fare box.

It had suddenly become summer again. I was wearing a coat, so between my inner agitation and the extra garment, I was really heated in every way by the time I finally got on the right train. However, the minute I found myself in the peace and quiet of Llewellyn Park, my whole frame of mind changed.

Up to that moment, the battles of the world seemed to be going on inside my head, and then, suddenly, all was quiet. We sat on the porch and talked of the simple things in life, which bring one back to sanity and a realization that everyday life must go on, no matter what is happening in the world.

I think, perhaps, the function of older people in times of stress like these, is to keep islands of quiet in themselves where youth may take refuge. I fail in this very badly at times. Mrs. Parish gave me a very good lesson yesterday, when we talked about the happenings of years ago and what various people, now carrying heavy loads, had done as children.

I sometimes wonder whether the effect of a carefree and happy childhood shows itself in the way men carry the strain of later years. Many a mother today, who gives her child a sense of security in a very insecure world, and who still manages to provide simple pleasures, may be preparing that child for a successful role in the difficult years of the future.

I made my train for Washington very comfortably, but I was to meet two of our children there, and they arrived just as the train was about to leave. One of them doesn’t like to waste time waiting for anyone, and so this morning everyone tried to help him to get back to his job in time, while he serenely insisted he would not be late. He made his plane with exactly one minute to spare.

In a few minutes I am going down to the Navy Yard to witness the transfer of a ship to the Norwegian government. I shall tell you more about it in tomorrow’s column.

225

September 18, 1942

Washington – (Thursday)
It was a pretty ceremony yesterday at the Navy Yard as the American flag came down and the Norwegian flag went up on the ship which the Crown Princess of Norway had just accepted from the President. The sailors on the ship looked so young and the captain, who came to shake hands with the President, elicited the remark from him that he looked young to take charge of a ship.

Today I have been to Annapolis, Maryland, to the Navy Wives Club. I have been to the Officers’ Wives Club on a number of occasions, but this club is a new one and represents the wives of the enlisted men. We had a very pleasant small lunch at Carvel Hall, and then went to the new USO building for a meeting. It is a delightful building of brick and harmonizes with the general colonial atmosphere of Annapolis.

I met there a Merchant Marine sailor wearing a medal of which he was very proud. He had been twice torpedoed in 26 hours and, somewhere along the line, he had also spent 4 days as a prisoner of war on a German submarine. He was a Texan and had just been home on leave. I wished I could have heard him tell of his adventures, instead of having just two minutes with him when my own talk before the club was over.

One of the questions asked was interesting, and I think must be in the minds of a great many women today. Should children be made aware of the war, or should it be kept away from them as much as possible? Children vary so much that it is hard to give an answer which would cover all situations.

For instance, one of my daughters-in-law told me that her little boy wakes up at night whenever he has heard anything terrifying. She cannot even read him The Three Bears or Little Black Sambo. Other children take things with great calm and, I sometimes think, are decidedly cold-blooded, or, perhaps, we had better say are unimaginative.

Of one thing I am very sure; every child should be made aware of the fact that his country is in a life and death struggle and that he has a part in it, even if it is only giving up chewing gum, or an ice cream soda, or a piece of candy. It should be a voluntary sacrifice which makes him part of the general struggle of the people all around him.

There will be too long an aftermath of this war not to bring up this younger generation with a realization of the grave responsibilities which they carry as citizens of a great democracy, where much of the responsibility for future world conditions may have to be accepted.

226

September 19, 1942

Washington – (Friday)
Wonder of wonders, I have just come across a woman who is not inquisitive. This woman wrote me a little while ago and accused the Student Assembly, held in Washington under the auspices of the United States Committee of the International Student Service, of being a strange mixture – in her own words: “This mob of Hitlerites and ex-Communists.” Quite a mixture!

I answered and tried to tell her something of the truth, but she has returned my letter unopened. I wonder if she is just not curious, or so convinced that she knows everything there is to know, that she doesn’t want to know anything more!

Of course, whatever she believes, does no one any harm. However, I have a theory that when you feel bitterness and rage against other people, even against groups of people, it is a help to find that it is not necessary. The only harm that comes from self-indulgence in bitterness and anger is what happens to the person so indulging herself. The doctors tell us that there is a chemical change which takes place inside of people who go through such emotions, so it is injurious to the attacker but not to those attacked.

I have had a request from the publicity director of the American Industries Salvage Committee to bring out certain facts about the need for scrap metal. She tells me that four million tons of materials, now hidden away in our homes, are needed on the battlefield.

An old wash pail, for instance, would provide three bayonets. A set of skid chains will provide twenty 37mm anti-aircraft shells. A bicycle tire and tube will make one gas mask. Therefore, the committee begs that you will go rummaging through your house, from garret to cellar, and find everything you no longer use and see that it goes to your local salvage committee. Now that I have told you what the Central Committee wants you to do, I am going to ask them to do something in return.

I find a great many people who have no idea where their local salvage committee is. They have collected scrap metal and rubber, and find no one to notify. Sometimes they hear of someone to telephone, days go by, and the scrap still stays where it was first collected. I realize all the difficulties of synchronizing all the needs with the collections. I know that eventually all this material we find in our households will be used by industry, but many people are discouraged when nothing is done with the scrap their particular community has collected.

The need is for local committees to acquaint individual householders of their existence and with the details of what they want, and how and when they want it. Different parts of the country could collect at different times to facilitate transportation, or to meet needs in various industries. Thus, the individual community would be less discouraged.

227

September 21, 1942

Washington – (Sunday)
I have been asked to write a column on how the White House would be run on $25,000 a year. Of course, the question is rather foolish, because the White House is not the property of any private individual. It belongs to the people of the United States and those who live in it are there only temporarily.

Such hospitality as is dispensed there, is the hospitality of a great nation. Therefore, it is impossible to discuss adjusting life in the White House as one would adjust life in one’s own home.

If the question had been asked me in this manner – how are you going to adjust your life to an income of $25,000 a year in your own home – I could have answered it with great ease. My home can easily be run on that sum of money.

My life can easily be so arranged that I can live on whatever I have. If I cannot live as I have lived in the past, I shall live differently, and living differently does not mean living with less attention to the things that make life gracious and pleasant, or with less enjoyment of things of the mind.

So this question of how the White House is to be run on $25,000 a year, shows that the individual who asked it has no idea of how the White House is run. Congress pays and prescribes the number of employees. It provides for repairs, for the general upkeep and official entertainment. The President must pay for all the food eaten by everybody in the White House, except on official occasions, and that is sometimes a pretty expensive bill.

Since he is required to pay for the people who are not there for his personal comfort, and since his whole life in the White House is not a personal life, but a public one; I do not think a ceiling which could quite rightly be applied to all of us in our personal lives, could be applied at all to the actual life lived in the White House, or to the President’s public life anywhere. The conditions would have to be clearly understood by the people, because there are two entirely different situations to be faced.

No one I know, the President or anybody else, would hesitate for a moment if they were faced with the simple problem of readjusting their lives to keep below this personal ceiling of income, or any other ceiling required for the good of the country. If such a tax brings the war to a close any sooner or saves any young lives, I feel sure all of us would accept it with joy.

228

September 22, 1942

New York – (Monday)
Washington continues to treat us to a warm, muggy weather, which makes us long for a real brisk autumn day. In the meantime, we realize that before long we shall look back to the nice lazy feeling we have at present and wonder how we could find time to sit in a chair to read a book, just because the air seemed heavy and we did not feel like moving around.

After writing my column yesterday, I began to think about how people, who have never been in public life, little know about the everyday things involved in living not as one chooses, but as one must.

Those of us who have lived in government houses know that no government house is ever our own, nor is it ever a home. For instance, I love the White House. It is a simple, dignified and beautiful government building. I take great pride in it, but it is not that intimate, personal thing – “my own home.”

I am always glad to see my children in the White House, because unless I did, I would often miss opportunities of seeing them. But it is at home, in our own house, in our own surroundings, that I really like to welcome them; for that is ours and we have an obligation only to our family and our own friends there.

It is a curious thing which is often stressed in electing a man to office in this country, we, naturally, do not elect his wife nor his children to office. Yet some people think that there is something very glamorous and much to be envied in this rather anomalous position, where you have certain responsibilities, pleasures and privileges imposed upon you through somebody else’s position.

You may find a woman living in the White House who has no interest in public affairs, and yet, willy-nilly, she must live there and she must entertain very often, for no reason except that her husband is in public office.

Many a shy and retiring child, I am sure, has suffered from being pointed out as the child of a President, or even the grandchild. No one will deny that there are great opportunities. To be the relative of a man in public life is useful in assisting those throughout the United States who need help, and it is also useful in meeting people of outstanding interest. Nevertheless, there are a considerable number of drawbacks.

Last night I left Washington at midnight to come up to New York City for a meeting of the United States Committee for the Care of European Children. A little later, I expect to go to Philadelphia to see “Youth City.” I shall tell you more about it tomorrow.

229

September 23, 1942

Washington – (Tuesday)
On the train from New York City to Philadelphia yesterday afternoon, I had the pleasant experience of meeting Mr. Eddie Dowling, who was opening one of his shows there last night. He rescued me by carrying my bag off the train, for I was surrounded by some highly enthusiastic boys on their way back to their various camps. They can never see why one hasn’t the time to give an autograph to everyone in the group, but unfortunately trains do not wait while you sign your name.

At 6:00, I reached “Youth City” and was at once taken for a tour of the Negro slums. As in almost every other big city, the low income group, in which a great many Negroes find themselves in Philadelphia, suffer from poor housing. It was a joy to see the new housing built on eight city blocks which once were slums.

Today they are occupied by many of the same people and are clean and well kept. When they have time to do some landscaping, the whole project will be very attractive. Afterwards we returned to “Youth City,” an old nightclub now turned into a community center. Most of the work there is done by the boys themselves.

This group elects a mayor and all the city officials, including judge and police, in much the same way that Father Flanagan organizes his Boys’ Town. The real police cooperate with them. When juvenile delinquents are found in the area, they are brought in to be judged by their own judges. Much of the work in “Youth City” has been done by youngsters working out their sentences. The situation as regards juvenile crimes among boys and girls in the neighborhood, both colored and white, has vastly improved.

The community house staff organizes basketball teams, table tennis games, etc.; in fact, they keep the young people busy out of school hours and after work hours. In addition, these boys and girls are learning to be good citizens instead of destructive hoodlums.

Many of the boys are now in the services, but they write back to their director, Mr. Samuel Evans, who has been apparently the strongest influence in making this a valuable community project. None of the staff working in “Youth City” receives a salary. They earn their living elsewhere, but they give much of their time to the work.

Miss Ella Gowan Hood met me with Mr. Evans. Mr. Jack Kelly presided at the dinner. Judge and Mrs. Curtis Bok were there, and many other Philadelphia acquaintances of mine who have taken a keen interest in this work. I caught the evening plane back to Washington and was home in time to do the day’s mail before going to bed.

230

September 24, 1942

New York – (Wednesday)
Yesterday, in Washington, was a fairly quiet day. I held a press conference in the morning and had one or two visitors in the afternoon.

I caught the night train to New York City. So far, the day has been taken up with the dentist, shopping and seeing a friend, Mrs. Henry Goddard Leach, who is in the hospital. She slipped on a mountain trail last summer and broke her arm and has had a most uncomfortable time, but now is well on her way to recovery.

The other day, I told you about some American boys who thought they had found the most wonderful foster-mother in the world near their camp. That column brought me a most charming letter from some British boys, who are not going to be outdone by any Americans in loyalty and appreciation for a woman who has taken them into her home and shown them real hospitality. I think you would like to read the letter, which is an example of how to build understanding and good feeling with people of other countries. Here it is:

We would like to tell you of an American mother we’ve found over here in these wonderful States, so far from our own mothers in England. She is Mrs. Paul W. Jenkins, of Kansas City, Missouri, only we call her “Mama Jenks.” In spite of her large and active family of four youngsters, her never-ceasing interest in civic enterprises, etc.; she has found time to adopt and mother us Royal Air Force lads, located in a training school not far from Kansas City.

The most wonderful time any of us ever had was on our first visit to Kansas City, when seven of us spent a week in the Jenkins home. There we were surrounded by delightful music of all kinds [since it is Mrs. Jenkins’ hobby] table tennis, a bridge game any time, badminton, bicycling, croquet and worlds of good reading material.

Ever after this visit, our weekends were spent in the Jenkins home. No advance notice from us was ever necessary. Mama Jenks let us plan the meals, so we might each have in turn the particular dishes we had been craving.

Following our visits, letters [with snapshots of us enclosed] were written to our parents telling how well we were, etc.

One of our lads was taken very ill with strep throat while on a week-end visit to Mama Jenks and remained seriously ill for ten days, during which time she nursed him day and night. Our flight commander, over long distance, suggested that this lad be removed to a hospital, fearing it would be too difficult for Mama Jenks to carry on. But not our Mama Jenks – she was in attendance every minute, until this lad recovered sufficiently to return to his training school.

As our birthdays came along, so came each boy’s favorite cake. They were always huge ones and enclosed in each was a package of candles with which to adorn each cake.

We could continue indefinitely to write about our Mama Jenks, her unselfishness, her characteristic thoughtfulness and how we all love her, but suffice to say, we hope to come back to this wonderful America to live after this war is over, and rest assured we will all locate near our Mama Jenks, because we think she is a bit of all right. From Mama Jenks RAF Sons.

231

September 25, 1942

New York – (Thursday)
Yesterday afternoon I joined in a broadcast to the women of Poland on the third anniversary of the loss of their country’s freedom. Arranged by Station WRUL, it was a most impressive occasion. My own part was limited to a very few minutes.

Miss Dorothy Thompson, Mrs. Luce, Miss Pearl Buck and Mrs. Moore, were extremely effective in their talks. I hope the broadcast will give some sense of future security to the women of Poland. I was glad to be able to say how deeply the women of this country sympathized with the sufferings of the women in Poland.

Starvation and horror live with them day by day. I wonder more and more at the Nazi psychology when I read descriptions of what happens to people in the occupied countries under Nazi control. How can the Nazis hope to create loyal and friendly citizens in a country which they have conquered by cruel treatment? Certainly, if they want goodwill, they go about it in a strange fashion.

I have before me a description of the Ravenbruck Women’s Preventive Detention Camp in Poland. One of the items reads:

People are regarded as ill only when they drop. Prisoners have to go barefoot in streets sprinkled with coarse gravel. In consequence prisoners get sore and festered heels, but they have to go on walking barefoot. No food is provided during the examination period, so if they bring none of their own, they go hungry until they are finally assigned to barracks. One of punishments consists of transferring to punishment barracks where degenerates are detained. If a Polish woman talks to a Jewess, she is punished with 42 days in a dark cell. There is one month of quarantine on entrance to the camp. There are no books. At the end of the month they are set to work. Kitchen work starts at 4:00 a.m. and includes the carrying of heavy sacks of food from the lorries. They [the women[ are used in building houses for German prisoners, carrying bricks, lime and stones.

This is only the description of one camp, and I should not think it would tend to make the conquered people love their conquerors. The Nazi psychology is a strange one, because fear and suffering do not create love and loyalty.

Today I am going to an exhibition at one of the branches of the New York Public Library and later to a tea given for Mrs. Flora Johnson, who is to run as Congress woman-at-large in Mrs. O’Day’s place on the Democratic ticket in New York State this fall.

232

September 26, 1942

Washington – (Friday)
The United Press reported from London a day or so ago, that the Archbishops of Canterbury and York, the highest primates of the Church of England, advocated postwar economic reforms. In effect, the report says they are asking their followers to denounce urban landlordism and any business system operated on a strictly profit basis.

This is rather interesting when placed side by side with something which was said by one of our Representatives in Congress a day or so ago. In his speech, he spoke of a large fund, $1,545,070, which under the will of Robert Marshall, was left to be used in various ways. One half of the estate was set aside for “the promotion and advancement of an economic system in the United States based upon the theory of production for use and not for profit.” This half of the estate has become the Robert Marshall Foundation.

Could it be that Mr. Marshall and the highly respected Christian leaders of the Church of England have both, some years apart, expressed similar convictions? Advocating research about existing conditions, even in the field of economics, does not mean that you will adopt any particular theories. It simply means you recognize the world changes and you have to meet new world conditions and, therefore, must not become ossified.

Our very eminent Congressional Representative does not seem to agree, however, and he even goes a step further. He said most of the money supplying the communist front organizations in this country came from this fund. If that is true I am afraid they have not had very great financial support, for half of $1,545,070 would not for long support any active group of organizations.

There is evidence that some of this money has been given to organizations which were thought to be liberal organizations and which were doing good work along certain lines. Later they were proved to be under the control of a particular group, perhaps communist, perhaps something else, and I surmise when that was proved, the support was withdrawn.

Many people have experienced the necessity of severing membership and long standing interest in an organization, when it became controlled by one element of which they did not approve. Many people, however, retained membership in groups where they felt it was worthwhile fighting to develop an organization under democratic control.

There must be some hidden fascist groups and individuals not yet brought to light in this country. It surprises me how often our eminent Congressman stresses the communist danger and ignores the fascist danger, which a little research might also bring to light.

233

September 28, 1942

Washington – (Sunday)
Friday noon, I walked out on the steps of the Treasury Building and was delighted with the group of fine looking young people who made up a most colorful picture below and around us. There were gay costumes, signs of every kind and very excellent singing before the speeches began. This display was to mark the participation of the schools in the war savings effort, but theirs was not just a participation in saving in order to be able to buy War Stamps. They were participating in every way where their training could eventually be of service in the war.

The Mayor of Philadelphia presented the Secretary of the Treasury one of the bricks from Independence Hall. This, a national magazine, with the aid of a Philadelphia committee, has been instrumental in salvaging while repair work is being done to that historic building.

Such bricks will now be given to the various schools in recognition of their war programs. No one who saw the interested faces of the young people yesterday, can doubt that they were keenly alive to the responsibilities of future activity in war or in peace.

In the evening I attended a rally held by the District Chapter of the American Red Cross to recruit nurses’ aides. One of their most charming and recent recruits, Miss Joan Fontaine, flew all the way from Hollywood to speak. I feel sure she succeeded in making a great impression on all those present because of her charm and evident sincerity. She told me an interesting thing, that she always works harder on a volunteer job than on her paid job and I hope that psychology functions with us all.

Unfortunately, many people feel that volunteers are not always to be relied on. For that reason, those who come into these services first have to prove themselves as capable of doing a professional job.

Mrs. Harry Hopkins is such an ardent nurses’ aide worker and so faithful to her job that she has more than 300 hours to her credit already and can do certain types of work which newcomers are not permitted to undertake. I thought she and Miss Fontaine made a very pretty picture as they stood together last night.

Yesterday I spent a good part of the day visiting the Ordnance Replacement Training Center at Aberdeen Proving Ground, Maryland. Dr. John Studebaker, Commissioner of the United States Office of Education, asked me to accompany him. I have so many impressions from the trip that I am going to devote tomorrow’s column to telling you more about it.

On my return, an old friend, Mr. Louis Ruppel, came in to see me. At 5:00, I went to the Woman’s National Democratic Club to speak for Democratic Women’s Day.

234

September 29, 1942

Fort Worth, Texas – (Monday)
I wonder how many people realize what it costs to teach someone things he should have learned in school, after he has come into the Army? Dr. Studebaker feels that even now this adult education should be done in the home communities before a man is taken into the Army.

There are some 240 men in Aberdeen, Maryland, training center, who are going to school. Ordnance work requires an ability to read, because as one officer said, if you can’t read the marks on the ammunition boxes and you get the wrong ammunition, it is just the same as having none.

To be sure, a certain number of these troops, going to school, are colored men from the Deep South, but there are also a considerable number of white men who are learning what they should have learned in the primary grades – how to read and write and how to add and subtract.

Occasionally, the difficulty lies in the fact that a man is a foreigner and does not speak English, or at least did not go to school in this country. One young man with whom I talked, was born in Pennsylvania, another in New Jersey. The first boy’s parents died when he was eight, and then he went to work in the mines and has taken care of himself ever since, with the result that he has had four months of school in his life.

One man with greying hair, who told me he was 44 years old, was laboriously picking out letters from a pile in front of him to spell the word “dog.” The group of officers teaching these men are really quite extraordinary. They have developed a remarkable system of visual aids. Many of them have had teaching experience in the past.

They try to keep the classes down to ten or twelve and they give a great deal of individual attention to each pupil. But these pupils are costing us somewhere around $175 a month. Wouldn’t it have been cheaper for all of us if we had seen that they had had decent educations when they were young?

Illiteracy of this kind does not speak well for our type of civilization. Evidently it takes a war to show where we have been negligent in our duty to the people as a whole. I remember the last war and know that all this came up then. I wonder if we shall have more intelligence this time, or whether we shall forget again and continue to be penny-wise and pound-foolish.

Gen. Simpson and Maj. F. A. Stutz, who were kind enough to look after us while we were in Aberdeen, certainly are doing remarkable training. I saw a review of some of the troops and much of the building which is going on, and marveled at the expansion which can be made while a comprehensive training program goes on.

235

September 30, 1942

Long Beach, California – (Tuesday)
I left Washington Sunday morning by plane, after a delay of several hours on account of the weather, and took a rather roundabout and leisurely trip to Fort Worth, Texas. We were held up at different places along the way for various reasons.

Finally, we came into Fort Worth at about 10:30 at night. To my complete surprise, Ruth, Chandler and Elliott Jr. were waiting for me at the gate of the airport. Elliott Jr. is 6 years old and I do not think he has ever been up quite so late before. Ruth said that while they were waiting for us they had eaten ice cream, popcorn and consumed many soft drinks.

It was almost a party as we drove out to the ranch. Elliott Jr. was sound asleep before we got there. Chandler, aged 8, rested her head on the back of the seat and looked quite ready for bed.

Their house is on a hill overlooking a brook, along which many trees grow. In every direction, miles and miles of rolling prairie stretch away. If you arrive at night, shadowy forms of cattle rise up along the road as you drive in and the lights from the house send forth their welcome.

There is a quality of soft haziness in the autumn atmosphere here and a fascination in the breadth of view on every side. Ruth and Elliott have made it a comfortable and homelike home. The green lawn and flowers immediately around it speak of infinite care and attention during the summer months. Everything in the house is an expression of their personal interests.

Books, pictures, prints, beautiful Mexican saddles, carefully chosen pieces of furniture and silver (which even the children have been taught to appreciate and enjoy) make an environment which is part of the family and an expression of their growth and development. Everywhere Elliott has been, even during the war period, his heart has been in the home he left behind, and from each place he has managed to send back something.

For instance, the summer spent flying with the Army in Iceland, Greenland and Newfoundland has produced little white bear rugs, which are in front of Chandler’s bed and scattered through the house. There are things from Africa and from the West. In fact, wherever individual members of the family have gone, whether together or apart, their roots have been here. The homing instinct is strong in all of them.

This morning, Chandler and Elliott Jr. showed me the new colt and rode around on their own horses. All of them exhibit the baby brother, David, as the first and prize package in which they have the greatest pride. David’s major achievement is to stand in his pen and to shake the sides back and forth.

236

October 1, 1942

San Diego, California – (Wednesday)
I left Fort Worth in the very early hours of the morning on Tuesday by plane and the sun was just beginning to turn the sky red as we reached Tucson, Arizona. There were plenty of soldiers, sailors and Marines on board. The young man next to me was a ferry pilot who told me that he had just been on his first trip to Australia as a co-pilot. On his return, he had been granted a three-day leave, from which he was just returning. The trip to Australia had evidently been much more pleasant than he had anticipated, and so he was looking forward to other trips with interest.

The things you are not doing are always much more adventurous than your own job, and so he spoke with considerable awe of the ferry pilots who were flying to Great Britain and to Africa. I am sure that they would in turn speak of his flight to Australia as equally important. Many of these boys have held civilian pilot licenses before the war, but have had comparatively few hours of flying until they came into the service. Now the hours are piling up and I hate to think how many of them most of them will have flown before the end of the war.

The pilot who was flying us to Los Angeles, reminded me that he had flown the President from Albany to Chicago when he went to accept the nomination in 1932. We reached Long Beach a little after 8:00 and were told that the fog would probably prevent our leaving the field in Los Angeles till noon. I accepted the invitation of Capt. Bagby, Public Relations Officer at the Ferry Command base in Long Beach, to visit the base.

Col. Ralph E. Spake, the commanding officer, and Lt. Col. John P. Fraim, the executive officer, showed me over the field. They have a very interesting method of reconditioning officers who come in from long flights. They give them a steam bath and a light massage and they do not let them overexercise, though they have a big gymnasium and someone to put them through exercises if necessary.

They tell me that an officer can come in from a trip in the morning, spend three or four hours, and start another trip in the afternoon, usually stopping at night somewhere on the other side of the mountains.

I liked the sign over the room where the pilots wait for their final orders. It reads, “Through this portal pass the finest pilots on earth,” which must give them all a sense of satisfaction, for that is the way their commanding officers feel about them. Food is served here; men can play games and sit and talk. The wives, many of whom live nearby, can come and wait with them until the call comes to start on a trip.

A little after nine, I left and arrived in San Diego at my son’s house about 12:30 on Tuesday.

237

October 2, 1942

Coronado, California – (Thursday)
We spent a quiet afternoon Tuesday, during which time I renewed my acquaintance with Anne and John’s boy, Haven. Memories are short at his age, but since the household’s small dachshund greeted me with great friendliness and seemed to remember me, Haven decided I could not be a complete stranger.

After a short while, he felt he could sit on my knee and ride a cockhorse. When his father came home, Haven was annoyed by the grownups, who talked together instead of paying attention to him. We dined with my daughter-in-law, Mrs. James Roosevelt and spent a pleasant evening.

At 10:00 yesterday morning, the Admiral’s wife, Mrs. Holmes, came for me and my daughter-in-law, Mrs. James Roosevelt, and went with us to visit the naval hospital. Capt. Walcutt drove us around to show the enormous amount of expansion which has been necessary. This hospital was originally built for 900 patients and now has 5,000 beds.

All types of cases are treated here. They have lately acquired some buildings on the old fair grounds, where the men spend a short recuperation period in order to regain their strength before leaving. They have delightful grounds and porches, the food in the mess hall is very good, and I felt that everything was conducive to rapid recovery of the men. The nurses have pleasant quarters, too, which look out on a lovely court with a fountain in the center.

They showed me with pride their own special method of collecting and preserving plasma for blood transfusions.

While I was a bit bewildered by the size of the whole hospital, I felt that it was a most up-to-date, beautifully kept and cheerful place in which to be cared. They had four wards of nothing but appendicitis cases. Many of their patients are new in the service and from camps and stations nearby.

I went through the tuberculosis ward and was glad to find that all the men are now being given x-ray tests, thereby reducing the danger of infection to others. The disease is often discovered early enough for a very rapid cure. Several men there had come from Samoa. Lastly, I saw a number of the most seriously wounded cases, who had come in from the Pacific, some of them from Pearl Harbor, some from the Solomon Islands and the various other islands.

Nearly all of them seem to have such a cheerful spirit that you feel they must get well. I only wish that this hospital could be near enough, so that all the people who are worrying about their sons, husbands or sweethearts, could see for themselves that every care is being given them. The Red Cross has trained medical social workers who visit the wards and are prepared to help the boys in any way they can with specific personal problems.

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October 3, 1942

San Francisco, California – (Friday)
When I was in San Diego on Wednesday, I visited one hospital which was unique. Situated at the Naval Air Supply Base, it is not a government hospital. The Navy paid for the building, however, and Navy doctors give their services free. It is known as the Family Hospital and is open to Navy men dependents from all over this country.

The charges are comparatively low – $3.50 to $5.00 a day – and the care is excellent. Capt. Gunther and Adm. Joel Boone are responsible for having established this helpful institution. There is now a small resident home near the hospital for the civilian nurses. The money for furnishing and equipping the hospital came from private gifts, and it is so well run that, from the time it was opened two years ago, the current expenses have been paid by the patients themselves.

As a morale builder it has made a great contribution. Adm. Boone told me that they had letters from men now at war in various parts of the Pacific, which express their gratitude and relief at knowing a new baby had been safely brought into the world, or a child or wife had been seen through some illness. If an enlisted man’s dependents are unable to pay the hospital costs, they may appeal to the Navy Relief Society, which will pay the hospital in full and be repaid by the man in very small weekly allotments.

Wednesday afternoon, in San Diego, I went to a meeting in the parlor of the Methodist Church for Bethune-Cookman College. It is interesting to me that three meetings in behalf of this college have been arranged in the state of California. This shows there is recognition of the need for better understanding of our minority groups, and of the value of trained leaders who can create goodwill and prevent antagonism between people of different races.

I left San Diego Thursday by air. We were more than two hours late and, therefore, I had a very short time in Los Angeles. While there, I attended a meeting at Mrs. Melvyn Douglas’ home and had an opportunity to see Dr. Remsen Bird and Mrs. Douglas while we drove back and forth between her house and the airport.

I was only a few minutes late in reaching San Francisco. The last part of the flight was very beautiful when the sunset turned the sky into a brilliant crimson. San Francisco is always an interesting city. Just now lights are dim at night, which makes it almost mysterious as the dusk deepens.

I found mail and a telegram to be answered at the hotel. Now I am meeting the press in a few minutes and then start out to visit the Army and Navy hospitals.

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October 5, 1942

Seattle, Washington – (Sunday)
Here I am in Seattle and I have not told you as yet of what I did last Friday. At 10:00, Adm. Wood and Capt. Clifton, of the U.S. Naval Hospital on Mare Island, came for me and we went at once to the new and comparatively small hospital on Treasure Island, where some of the boys wounded in the Makin Island raid are being treated.

It was heart stirring to see those boys who had been close to my own boy. I have a curious feeling in visiting these hospitals that the boys are not strangers, but that there is a close, personal tie with them all. Treasure Island is an evacuation hospital and the patients are sent from there to Mare Island and other hospitals.

At Mare Island the treatment which is being used there exclusively for burns was especially interesting to me. They showed us a short movie illustrating the spraying process by which a wax-like coating covers the burned parts and immediately relieves the pain. The patients are able to stretch the muscles and the skin and avoid some of the old results which caused so much trouble. The sulfa drugs are also making a vast difference in the rapidity with which some of the treatments can now be given, because infection is controlled better.

I saw men who have been through Pearl Harbor, the battles of the Coral Sea, the Solomon Islands and Midway. One Marine parachutist, Pfc. Lopacinski, was ashore for two days and killed 36 Japs singlehanded, but was wounded by a bomb blast. There were many others with interesting stories of individual feats of daring and courage.

I think the men themselves recognize that every man in the outfit is equally important, runs the same risks, and by doing his job well, whatever it is, makes the more spectacular achievements possible. Sometimes I wish that the medals of honor could really be distributed to the whole personnel. The case is rare where one man without the support of the rest of his outfit could do the outstanding job.

We visited the Navy Hospital at Oakland, which is entirely new. Building is still going on, but the hospital runs with complete efficiency and I thought the wards were particularly bright and cheerful. The spirit of the men is the thing which impresses me most. Everywhere there is a smile, and if you ask them how they are getting on, the answer invariably is, “Fine ma’am.”

There is a great improvement in what can be done for men today who have lost a foot or an arm or a leg. It is good to be able to tell them that before long they will learn to do most of the things they could do before they were wounded.

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October 6, 1942

Seattle, Washington – (Monday)
I did not have space to tell you yesterday that last Friday, in San Francisco, I also visited the Army Hospital. There are new buildings there too, but on the whole, it gives one less feeling of hurried change than most of the other hospitals. It is evident everywhere that an effort is being made to use all the new scientific knowledge which can contribute to the better care of the men in service.

I would surmise, however, that we are not giving our draftees a sufficiently careful psychiatric examination before they are taken into service, for there seem to be a considerable number of maladjustments which may or may not become liabilities in the Army. In the Navy, too, I have seen some cases of what one might call “nerves.”

There seems to be more attention and understanding of these cases once they are in the services than in the pre-induction period. If once they are taken into the services, of course they become a charge on the medical services of our government.

In the late afternoon in San Francisco, I went to a tea at Pacific House. Mrs. William Denman has been very active in promoting, through Pacific House, closer relations between the various consults stationed in San Francisco and the students who come from so many South American and Far Eastern countries.

These students will all return to their own countries to be ambassadors of goodwill for us if their experiences here make them really understand this nation and its people. I met a very sweet young Chinese woman who is a student of medicine. She is planning to return as soon as she finishes to work in the rural areas of China.

The flight up on Saturday to Seattle was pleasant and it was a great joy to see Mrs. Nan Honeyman at the airport in Portland. A little later, my daughter and son-in-law and two older children were at the airport to meet me here.

Saturday evening we went out to the state university here, where a meeting was being held for the United Nations team, representing the International Student Assembly held in Washington early in September. I thought all the young people spoke very well. They emphasized the value of a United Nations program, not only to win the war, but to build stronger foundations for peace in the future.

Lt. Lyudmila Pavlichenko, the Russian girl sniper, attracts the most attention because she represents something so unusual to us. In her speech she centers her appeal on help for Russia. This is natural, since at the present time Russia is so hard-pressed and we have witnessed such an extraordinarily heroic defense of Stalingrad.

I hope help will be given by us in the way that our military authorities think wise, but I also hope that these young people of the Soviets will carry away with them as a result of their close association with the Dutch, English, Chinese, and Americans, a sense of the value of a United Nations front for war and peace.

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October 7, 1942

Seattle, Washington – (Tuesday)
Last Sunday, my daughter and son-in-law, with the two older children went with me to Bremerton. After a very pleasant luncheon with Mrs. Taffinder, wife of Adm. Sherwoode Ayerst Taffinder, Commandant of the Navy Yard, we visited the hospital with Capt. Dan Hunt. This is not as big a hospital as those in San Francisco or San Diego, but it has been somewhat enlarged lately.

There were a number of patients from the northern area, not all of them, however, from the battlefront. A good many boys get hurt on board ship. In all these hospitals there are a number of nervous cases, some of whom, perhaps, will never be able to resume work in the Armed Forces, but may be able to take up their civilian occupations again.

They have some wards for the care of Navy dependents, and I saw a number of wives whose husbands are off on foreign duty. Seven babies were in the nursery, and several children were recovering from more or less serious illnesses.

This is not a separate hospital building, as it was at the naval air station in San Diego, but is a part of the regular hospital. The patients pay $3.50 a day, just as they do in San Diego. I had not been at this navy yard since the President was Assistant Secretary of the Navy. We visited all the navy yards on this coast in the winter of 1914, and the change is simply breathtaking. What used to be a golf course is now covered with shops and great activity is going on everywhere.

Yesterday, at noon, I spoke here in Victory Square. Ever since last May, Seattle has carried on noonday meetings in Victory Square. Always they have a record of bond sales read. In addition, they make a point of bringing interesting people to talk at that hour on anything to do with the war effort.

Yesterday, an army band, belonging to a Washington, DC, regiment, played very well. In compliance with Donald Nelson’s request, the newspapers here, as well as in other parts of the country, are responsible for the scrap metal drive, and they had charge of yesterday’s program.

To me, the most interesting part of the program was the interviewing of four young officers; two naval fliers back from the Aleutian Islands and two boys from the Lexington. All of their stories were interesting, though told with great understatement, because the boys seemed much embarrassed at having to talk about their own experiences.

In the afternoon, my daughter and I saw a picture which was taken in China by Mr. Mark L. Moody, an American businessman who has spent some 25 years in the Far East. He had exceptional opportunities for taking pictures when the Japanese took Shanghai and various nearby cities.

The film is called Ravaged Earth, and he tells me his desire is to awaken the people in this country to a knowledge of the kind of adversary they have in the Japanese. They are certainly appalling pictures. If we need any awakening, this film should certainly open our eyes.

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October 8, 1942

Chicago, Illinois – (Wednesday)
Monday evening in Seattle, I spoke at a meeting sponsored by the Women’s War Savings League. In Seattle and throughout the state they are attempting to obtain a very large membership in this league. Every member promises to save all she can and to put in War Savings Bonds and Stamps at least ten percent of the family income.

Mrs. Langlie, the Governor’s wife, was present and handed me a membership in the League. I liked Miss Marie Young, who is doing the organization work. I hope they will be very successful in this state, especially since my daughter has taken the honorary chairmanship. I often find, and her experience seems to be similar to mine, that honorary chairmanships are usually honorary only in name. You have to work, and work hard, if the enterprise is one in which you are interested and really want to see succeed.

Yesterday morning, in Seattle, we took my three-year-old grandson, Johnny Boettiger, to nursery school. It was only his second day, but he seemed to have completely settled down. This school is organized on a cooperative basis. The fathers have made most of the equipment and the mothers are taking turns helping the teacher. Johnny seemed quite happy and did not even bother to say goodbye to us.

I left Seattle in the afternoon and was seen off by the entire family. I felt sad, as I always do, to say goodbye, but was very grateful for the happy days we had together. These are times in which one feels one must cherish every opportunity to see those one loves and to be happy with them.

On this trip I have managed, while travelling, to do quite a little reading. A very charming book came to me just before I left, called Little Sister Su, a Chinese folk tale translated by Madame Chiang Kai-shek. The illustrations are delightfully done.

Folktales, I suppose, always have a moral. This one ends when the prospective bridegroom is challenged by his lady fair to write the second line of a couplet. The first line she wrote as “closing door, shut out moon from windows.” Aided by his father-in-law, the young man finally wrote, “throwing stone, open up sky in waters.” Thereby he wins his wife, perhaps because it is better to open up the sky than to shut out the moon.

Perhaps, the underlying moral is that every woman likes to prove that her husband is a little better or cleverer or wiser than she. This lady fair was bound to test her man until she was sure of his ability, even where she thought herself supreme.

There is an interesting diary written by Alice Brady, called Children Under Fire. In this she recounts her experiences on a number of crossings from England to this country with children who were to find homes here for the duration of the war. Many of them were under the care of the United States Committee for the Care of European Children. Anyone not familiar with the problems and history of this activity will find this book worth reading.