Eleanor Roosevelt – My Day (1944)

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August 21, 1944

Hyde Park, New York – (Sunday)
I have been receiving a number of letters lately on the subject of the value of a year of military service for our boys after the war. From what I read in the papers and get in the mail, I think there is some confusion in people’s minds. Some are thinking about the immediate situation in the year or two right after the close of hostilities. Others are thinking about a permanent program of training that will continue into the future.

Let us take the first consideration. There will be, when war comes to an end, a good many men in training who have never been overseas. At the same time, there will be a need for a number of men to act as a police force, or as occupation troops, in different parts of the world for varying periods. The men who have been fighting, and who have lived in remote places for months or even years, are going to want to come home quickly. It might be possible, on a volunteer basis, to get enough young men who have never been overseas to take the places of these veterans. It would give many a young man a chance to see the world, without the danger which his brothers lived through during the war years.

The second consideration can again be divided. One group asks only that all young men be trained for a year in some military service. These people frequently feel that one year is hardly adequate to train a man completely in any branch of our highly mechanized services. Some feel that we should aim at getting our young citizens in good physical condition through two or three months of basic training, and then use the rest of the time as a period of education in democratic citizenship. This will permit them to perform some service for the community in which they spend their time.

I believe this subject deserves lengthier discussion, however, and I would like to consider it in greater detail tomorrow.

I was recently given a copy of What’s New in Home Economics, a magazine published for the teachers of home economics throughout the country. I look upon this as one of our most hopeful fields of education, so I was interested to learn that 29,000 high schools, as well as colleges and universities, teach this subject. The teachers in these classes have a heavy burden, yet a large number of them are taking time to conduct adult classes in the afternoons and evenings, and are making of themselves information centers for their communities.

My only fear is that the courses are not as thorough or as important as they should be. I hope that as we revise our educational standards after the war, this will be one of the subjects we consider as of major importance.

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August 22, 1944

Hyde Park, New York – (Monday)
There are many arguments in favor of a year of national service.

Many things would be accomplished even if it were just a year of military service. For instance the nations of the world would know that we were never again going to be caught unprepared – that at all times the young manhood of our country was in condition with sufficient training, to protect the nation and to prevent any surprise attacks. Our equipment would be modernized and adequate.

There also would be the advantage, under any circumstances, that young men from all groups which make up the citizenship of the nation, at an early and impressionable age, would be thrown together. They would get to know each other and differences in background and environment would melt away. There is also the possibility of teaching young men how to take care of themselves in the open, if they have not had opportunity in civilian life.

Every man in every nation has always felt that, in time of war, it was his duty to protect his country; and the man who did not feel this obligation usually was looked down upon by his compatriots. But many people in our country, as well as in other countries, have grown up with far less sense of obligation toward their peacetime citizenship. The statistics on voting alone prove this. The fact that over and over again you can ask a group of people to name their representatives in Congress and get no reply, shows that we as citizens are not aware of the same passionate patriotism which must be devoted to peace as it has been to war.

If we hope for peace in the future, this sense of knowing that we have an obligation as citizens to be responsible day by day for our representatives, to leave any community we are in richer for our presence, must become evident to us all. Perhaps this knowledge might be advanced if a year of service were not purely military, but included a development in the knowledge of conditions within the areas in which training was given, as well as an understanding of government problems in those areas and a sense of having contributed in some way to their solution.

These are just things I hope Americans will think about as they discuss the National Service Act. There is one more aspect of the subject which I would like to bring to you tomorrow.

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August 23, 1944

Hyde Park, New York – (Tuesday)
One of the clippings which has been sent me starts with the following paragraph:

As she ages, the feminine part of the Roosevelt Presidency becomes wilder in her attempts to force American youths to follow the pattern of life she wants to dictate to them. Now she is starting to campaign for compulsory military training after the war for our boys and girls of 18 years of age. She says, “Our youngsters must get it into their minds that they have a responsibility to their country.”

In the two columns which I have written in the last two days, I have tried to express clearly why we should have a little different emphasis and perhaps call on some new methods to help us all to be better citizens in our great democracy.

But one thing I hope I have made very clear, and that is that everything which I say is only in the form of suggestions. These are made in order to interest people and bring about discussion. When some concrete plans are actually suggested by those who properly have the responsibility for such suggestions, there will then be among us all an awakened interest and a background of thought and discussion.

And now to this subject which was italicized in the paragraph quoted above – this terrifying subject of what part girls might play in a program of national service. No one is more conscious than I am that many a girl, when she finishes high school, will not want to leave home, and that her family, as well, will not want her to go from under their direct supervision.

It is possible, however, that a girl might give a year of service in her own community. Such service might well prove of value to the hospitals, or to some of the government agencies – local, state or national – which happen to be in the vicinity, or to some civic or charitable activity, dealing with child care or recreation, which needed personnel.

In any of these activities, a girl might learn many things which would be a help to her in her future life, either in her home or in work which she may undertake. Quite obviously, it would be useful to any woman to have a knowledge of local conditions, a better knowledge of nutrition or of sanitation, as well as some of the first principles of hygiene or nursing. Some girls might feel that they wanted to see something of their own country beyond their immediate surroundings; but this, after all, could perhaps be offered on a voluntary basis.

The essential thing, as I see it, is that we should think out ways to increase our participation in government.

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August 24, 1944

Hyde Park, New York – (Wednesday)
One of the objections raised by people who are afraid of universal military training is that this is a pattern which was followed by the Fascists in Germany and Italy, and by the Communists in Russia. Such people are afraid of having girls included for any kind of training, or of going a step beyond military training and giving training which might stimulate interest in government and participation in it, because that would increase the parallel.

When one says that the aid given to Russian youth in obtaining higher education is perhaps greater than anything we have worked out here, and that we might examine what they have done in relation to any future plans of ours, there is at once the shriek from certain quarters that we wish to communize our youth. As a matter of fact, it is highly unwise not to examine what was done in other countries. There is no need to copy it, but we might improve on it and adapt it to our own purposes.

I cannot imagine that anyone in this country would want to see our young people subjected to the kind of regimentation and instruction which was enforced in Germany and Italy, nor do I think that we would want to see our young people indoctrinated in the way that the Russians indoctrinated their young people. But why we should not take anything we find that is good, and use it in a way which will benefit our youth, is incomprehensible to me. It shows a kind of fear and uncertainty about ourselves which is to me entirely unfathomable. I have faith in our people and in our youth, and I do not believe you could put over on us something which did not meet with agreement from the majority of the people in this country.

I think we have learned from the draft that we need a better knowledge of nutrition, and better medical care for our children. To attain this, we must of necessity make some changes in our educational system, because we cannot expect any improvement except through the knowledge and understanding of our young people.

The year of extra training beyond high school might add enormously to the kind of education which would help us to achieve these improvements in our standards of living. Such improvement does not necessarily mean that we need more money per family; it often means we need more knowledge per family in order to use what we have at hand.

It is a long time since I have worked closely with any organization, or been actively connected with the work that any particular group is doing. I think, however, that these things which I have been writing about during the past few days should be of interest and become matters of discussion not only in women’s groups, but in men’s groups and in groups of young people, because they are going to affect the life of our nation and that of many other nations in the future.

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August 25, 1944

Hyde Park, New York – (Thursday)
I have a communication from an Oklahoma organization which is very anxious to find a way of stimulating our population to greater concern and more participation in the simple process of voting. Here is a part of their letter which may be of interest to all of my readers:

The result of a primary election in a southwestern state, in which two nominees – Democrat and Republican – were chosen for the U.S. Senate, showed a striking lack of interest. This senatorial contest highlighted political activities throughout a 60-day campaign, there being 19 candidates, men and women, seeking nomination. The ballot booths were attended by barely 17 percent of the qualified electors of the state; the two senatorial nominees received jointly only 38 percent of the total vote cast, and not more than 6½ percent of the total qualified electors of the state. More than 1,300,000 electors shirked the duty of participation in choosing two nominees, one of whom will serve in the Senate of the 79th, 80th and 81st Congresses.

If this is typical of what happens in this year, when certainly every young person should at least be conscious that great decisions are being made, it seems to me regrettable. It shows clearly how much work needs to be done, and how important it is for the citizens of our country to know that there is something worth voting for in November of every year. Even when there are no national questions before us, there are state and local interests which concern us greatly.

I have just been reading a report of the activities of the Buffalo, New York, Red Cross chapters, and it seems to me that they have done a very good job. Of course, if one had the chance to see the reports of every chapter throughout the country, I think we would be moved to admiration. It is impossible for me to read them all, however, so I am glad to have had the opportunity to see what these groups in Buffalo have done. In expressing my congratulations to them, I would like to include all the other faithful workers.

As I went through our woods this morning, I was sadly conscious of the fact that the first autumn colors are beginning to show in the trees. Three of the grandchildren have left me to join their parents, and are getting ready for school. I still have a few young things with me, but I am afraid before long the summer days will come to an end and all of us will feel that we have to return to our routine occupations. It has been a great satisfaction to me to find that, in spite of the heat, the children here have grown brown and strong this summer. One of the things I have enjoyed the most has been reading aloud to them in their rest periods. Today we picked out Puck of the Pook’s Hill, one of my old Kipling favorites, and I found that the youngsters enjoyed it very much.

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August 26, 1944

Hyde Park, New York – (Friday)
This is one of those wonderful early autumn days when the sun is warm and the air is cool. One of the children and I followed two young “hares,” who ran ahead of us and tried to lose us, all the way to the top of the hills behind the cottage, and we came down again pretending we were automobiles carrying various kinds of cargo. We were quite surprised to find a real truck blocking the road, and some men working among the Christmas trees. They must have thought we were behaving peculiarly!

The war has moved so fast in the last few days that one can hardly take it in. For the French people themselves to have freed Paris must be a source of great joy to them. The problems already reported of feeding and providing adequate protection for such a big city, however, are certainly going to be difficult, even though the French seem quite able to undertake their own civilian government. Many people have thought that it would take a long time for the French people to recover sufficiently from the past few years’ hardships to be able to carry the responsibility of local government. But as one reads of the way the cities are rising and taking control, that theory seems to vanish into thin air.

There will be great want, however. The need for clothing, food, medicines, tool replacements, household goods, machinery, will be extremely difficult to fill. Certainly, the meetings at Dumbarton Oaks cannot move too quickly to meet this European situation as it shapes up now. There will be a tremendous urgency, as well, for Governor Lehman and the UNRRA to gather their supplies as quickly as possible and get them to the points where they will be needed most.

Paris has always been a symbol, and now that it is again a city where Frenchmen are free, I feel that the whole nation must breathe a sigh of relief and hope. They have much to do to get their house in order. They not only have prisoners of war still in Germany, but also all their young people who were taken for forced labor in Germany. These young people, who are so necessary for the work to be done at home, will not be back for some time; and when they do come, it may take them a long time to recover from the hardships which they have been through. In spite of all that, French people everywhere must be happier today than they have been in many long months.

We, in this country, have always had an admiration and an affection for the French people and for their culture, and we wish them well. Their comeback will be a courageous one, and their eminence in the intellectual and artistic fields will, I am sure, rapidly reestablish itself.

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August 28, 1944

Hyde Park, New York – (Sunday)
A very kind gentleman sent me a letter from a friend of his, Ens. Henry Swain of Washington, New Jersey, who was on board an LST as part of the landing force in Normandy. We have all read with the greatest admiration, I know, the wonderful story in Ernie Pyle’s columns of the past few days about the courageous British airman. I think this letter from one of our young Americans breathes the same kind of “never give up” spirit which wins battles and keeps a world free. There is too much to put into one column, yet I cannot bear not to let you have it all, so there will be two installments.

The letter runs:

Again fate played us a trick and it was not till the fifth that we started on the grueling trek over to the far shore. Our cargo was made up of a polyglot assortment of armed forces and vehicles, which ranged from infantry to paratroopers, from jeeps to radar equipment. It was precious, and it was to be in the fight just six hours after the first assault waves were to hit.

The trip across the Channel was not too potent, for we had a speed of only five knots, and that was gruesome, since there was a choppy sea and we waddled like an old duck all the way. To make matters worse, we slept at our stations and had to be on the alert all the time. I happened to have the conn when we first caught sight of the terrific barrage that the big babies were putting up. It was at 12 midnight, and it topped off a day which had been a continual parade of ships of the British and American navies. We would pass a slow convoy of ships – I did not think there was one slower than ours, but I was wrong – and then we would be passed, as if we were stopped, by the heavies moving up.

It was a sight I should have hated to miss, for it suggested such reserve of power which forestalled all apprehension one might have had about beginning the big event. The only thing missing was the brass bands, and the tremendous air umbrella we heard so much about. Until we got right into the area, it was not in evidence. Apparently it had missed us, for hundreds of planes were busy carrying paratroopers to the shore all the time after 2400. We did have a chance to see them brought in by the hundreds the following evening, though, as well as to see all sorts of coverage from Lightnings, Mosquitoes, Spitfires and others.

The morning of D-Day, 6 June 1944, was most beautiful. A brilliant sky was the backdrop for our first sight of the air force in action. We could hardly believe our eyes at the color displayed. Shortly after, it clouded over again, and when it broke, the largest rainbow I have ever seen arched the sky. Could be a good omen.

The whole day seemed particularly quiet, and nary a shot, bomb, or mine disturbed our casual investigation of the great invasion. Frankly, we were disappointed, but not to the point of asking for it. We were willing to leave enough alone. We pulled into our anchorage late in the afternoon in the Baie de la Seine, France. Our 34-hour grind was over.

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208

August 29, 1944

Hyde Park, New York – (Monday)
Here is the second installment of Ens. Swain’s letter describing the landings in Normandy:

The second day was the one that proved most tiring, for we had not even gotten our load to the beach before the first wave of casualties started to come rolling back. We were equipped as a hospital ship, and were quickly swamped. I had left the ship in a small boat to find the commander of our beach assault group, in order to obtain priority to beach our LST. During the course of the trip, I ran across a raft on which 10 men were hanging for dear life. The sea was terribly rough, and the water stays about 50 degrees all the time over here.

We managed to save all of them by lowering our ramp and dragging them on the boat. I shall never forget the faint smiles of relief which lighted up their faces, as they had been hanging there for some time. The pathetic discovery that 6 of the 10 had either simple or compound fractures didn’t make our job any easier. Such heroism as displayed by these men I shall never look for again. For not one let out a moan or any display of frayed emotions. We had to give rapid first-aid and had to knock two of them out with morphine, then head back to the ship on the double.

It was our first actual contact with the war, and this one was realistic enough; yet each one with me faced it with a calmness that makes me proud of them. Before the day was over, we had 170 cases on board. The medical corps did a marvelous job, and every man aboard pitched in and shouldered his share and then some. It wasn’t till later that we learned that the casualties were well below the expected rate, for we thought we had plenty. We soon learned that things were not too quiet on the shore.

There was only one bad feature about our picking the wounded men up so soon, and that was the fact that we still had troops aboard. It was a faux pas psychologically, for it sobered them up considerably. They had been an especially cocky bunch, and it may have been beneficial in one way. They will probably be a lot more cautious for that lesson.

We finally got the men and guns ashore and sent them on their way in LCT’s, which is a terrific task in itself. It is necessary to marry the two vessels together in order to transfer the equipment. Around 2200, we sent the last ones ashore and pulled away from the beach to get sailing orders. Found it necessary to lay over till the next morning for a convoy. So we lay off and watched the fireworks on shore.

Again I had the watch when we got word that the *** had been picked up by the “E” boats, and we were ready to take some survivors and casualties aboard. This knocked any plan I had for getting any sleep, so I made preparations to take care of them.

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August 30, 1944

Washington – (Tuesday)
Here is the third and last installment of Ens. Swain’s letter describing the Normandy invasion:

Had not more than gotten them [the wounded] squared away, when we took up the hook and got into port the morning of June 9th. We unloaded our wounded at the yard, and thought we would catch a little sleep before going out again. But we soon saw an end to that when we had a load all signed, sealed and checked by 4 in the afternoon. I am not kidding when I say I was dragging myself behind me about that time. There was no question of sleep, for something was bound to come up and keep you going.

By 4 the next morning we were under way again and heading back to the front. This time we had faster convoy and better protection, and by the afternoon, at least, some of us had caught a little sleep. Thus fortified, we were ready for anything. This time we pulled into a new beachhead and the one which had been the hardest to take on D-Day. In fact, it hadn’t been operating long before we got there. Spent the night under awful and terrifying attacks and constant anti-aircraft fire. It was something to watch, and even the dive bombing runs proved fascinating, for we were missed completely, although the shrapnel fell like rain on the deck. We had moved our anchorage about a half hour before one dive run let go a string where we would have been.

The beach was such that we had to run in at high tide and dry out, so we spent the day wandering along the beach. Many picked up some souvenirs, in spite of its being frowned upon. It was sure good to see that tide start to come in so we could pull off and be mobile at least. We could see the first airfield on French soil swing into operation. For the first time in four years, planes took off in France which were Allied planes.

We heard so many tales of what happened on the beach, and I wish that I could tell you all of them – of the snipers, the French attitude, and the tremendous assaults taking place. Stories of the prisoners who are delighted to have been captured by Americans and who claim that Hitler is crazy, his visit to the front last Sunday a fake, and the conviction that Germany is already beaten; of the paratroopers and their surprise raids, and all the rest. The biggest and the very best thing I can say is that we are trying to get this thing over as soon as we can, so that we will get back to the ones we are fighting for and the freedom of thought and action that makes America what it is.

P.S. Excuse the mistakes as I tried to peck this out in a hurry. Think that you can get a little idea of what happened.

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August 31, 1944

Washington – (Wednesday)
Monday, I left Hyde Park in the early morning to go down to New York City and straight on to Washington. I am only here for one day, and have come because I find that there are certain things it is wise to talk over with the housekeeper before the actual winter season begins. There has been no time this year when someone hasn’t been living in the White House, and so the difficulties of cleaning and renovating an old house tax all the staff here in spite of their long experience.

I had a most interesting talk with Lorenzo S. Winslow, the White House architect, today. I learned from him the reason why it was necessary to have the White House painted white. I had always heard that the sandstone out of which it was built had become so blackened by smoke, in the War of 1812, that it was decided to paint over the smoke. I did not realize, however, that sandstone is porous enough for the smoke to have penetrated to any great depth. Mr. Winslow says he has found, in doing certain renovating on the outside, that the stone was blackened to a depth of some two inches. Naturally, painting it was the only possible thing to do.

It is a pleasure to talk to someone with Mr. Winslow’s feeling for restoring whatever he can which has historical interest in the White House. His desire is to do whatever is done now in a way that will increase the historical value for the future. This is a point of view which my husband and I deeply appreciate.

It is wonderfully cool here for this season, and I am lucky to have come when the weather is so kind. In spite of the heat this summer, William Reeves, the florist, has managed to keep the little garden near the house looking very lovely. I enjoyed looking out this morning on the Rose Garden, and for the first time the garden by the new office wing is fully planted and looks finished again. The flower beds on the lawn down by the tennis courts are not quite so well kept as usual, since labor is hard to find. But on the whole, I think the grounds are a joy to see.

The thing which pleased me most, as I came out of the gate this morning, was to find the barriers down and people walking on the side of the street nearest the White House. I think people like to get a close view of the grounds, and these barriers have prevented them for many months from doing so. Before very long, perhaps, the gates will be open again, and people can wonder around even under the porte cochere and view closely the house which belongs to all American citizens.

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September 1, 1944

Hyde Park, New York – (Thursday)
Yesterday afternoon we were back in Hyde Park, and it certainly was a joy to plunge into what is a pretty cold pool after all the cool weather we have had. To my surprise, I found that two of our young guests had learned to dive while I was gone. I wish we older people learned things like that as quickly as the young ones do.

For the last time, yesterday evening, the entertainers sent by the United Theatre War Activities Committee came up for the canteen, and we went down to the little boat house, where they played to a most appreciative audience. I enjoyed Eric Victor and his accompanist, Miss Evelyn Hurwitz, very much. I was not sure how the boys would receive his interpretative dancing, but I soon found that the excellence of his performance held their attention every minute.

Miss Ruth Winchell played the accordion, and it sounded like an organ. At the end, she got the whole group singing with her in the songs they know the best, and I think it was one of the most successful evenings they have had this summer. They hope to continue running the canteen through the rest of the autumn and winter. But since I can’t be sure of being here every Wednesday, my share of entertaining the entertainers had to end last night.

Someone has sent me two rather interesting articles. One is a Reader’s Digest reprint from Common Sense. It is called “The Army Saves Its Black Sheep,” by Don Wharton, and if you have not read it, I hope you will do so. It is one of the most encouraging things I have read, and a program for which the army should receive great praise. In this program, they take men who, for one reason or another, have committed intermediate offenses – such as being AWOL for a long period of time. They study their background, and instead of giving them a dishonorable discharge, give them a chance for rehabilitation. Many of them have gone back and accomplished valuable service.

The other article was written by John Newton Baker for Read Magazine, on the work of the League of Women Voters. It brings out what this group of women really have accomplished and are trying to accomplish, and I think is one of the best articles I have read on their work.

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September 2, 1944

Hyde Park, New York – (Friday)
Yesterday Dean Mildred Thompson of Vassar College lunched with us. I am afraid I chose a very bad day to invite her, because she told me her office was full of freshmen every minute. Still, I hope it was good for her to get a little rest, and we certainly enjoyed having her with us.

In the afternoon I went up to the county fair. My primary purpose was to attend the swearing-in of a WAC, a very charming lady from Pawling, New York, whose husband kissed her goodbye after she took the oath of office. As I watched the little ceremony, I could not help thinking that it was probably a joint sacrifice.

There is one similarity in the service rendered by both men and women who enter the armed forces – they abdicate completely all personal liberty for the period of the war. I am sure this must be the most difficult thing for both men and women. An American must find it hard not to be able to say: “I am going here or there,” or “I won’t do this or that,” or “I will do thus and so.” What a complete reversal of our whole attitude in life, and yet millions of us have seemed to accept it.

Afterward we went through the grange exhibits, and I was very proud of the Chapel Corners Grange. Their booth looked charming. In fact, all of them were interesting, and showed that in spite of the war and many limitations in the way of labor and supplies, the farmers are managing to carry on and do a magnificent job.

I have often marveled at Kansas corn, but I drove past a field in this neighborhood, the other day, where the corn stood well above my head. I have rarely seen a finer field, so that I might almost boast that Dutchess County can compete with Kansas.

We also went through the 4-H Clubs exhibit, and the future farmers are coming along. These youngsters have won many prizes; and the girls, with their homemaking products, have done as well as the boys.

I wonder how many of my readers know Kipling’s story, They. It is an eerie and sad little tale, in a way. Yet with its insistence on the value of love which transcends all separations, it carries a meaning and may be of some comfort, I feel, to many who suffer losses at the present time.

To those of us who read the stories of the people of Paris in these first days of liberation, there must come, I think, a great admiration for the indomitable human spirit. Correspondents write that the Parisian woman, despite the years of suffering, is still well-dressed. The soles of her shoes may be of wood and the tops of fabric – but the colors are attractive, and nothing can down the Parisian woman’s chic.

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September 4, 1944

Hyde Park, New York – (Sunday)
Labor Day this year should mean more to more people, I think, than ever before, because more people have gone to work outside their homes in order to help the war effort than has ever been the case in our history.

To be sure, management and labor alike have probably not been 100 percent interested only in winning the war. There probably have been heads of industries, and men and women in the ranks of organized labor who worked for the wages they got and what it made possible in their own personal lives, and had little thought of our war needs. But, by and large, the whole picture of production is one of which we can be immensely proud, and on this day, we should remember and look with gratitude on the men and women who have made our victories possible.

In one of the papers last week, there was a story written by Master Sgt. Bud Hutton, a former newspaper man, about the potential cleavage that may develop between those who have served in the armed forces and those who have remained at home. His first article saddened me, for several reasons.

First, there is the difficulty, apparent to all of us who think about it, of comprehending what our men in the services have been through, and of facing our own lives at home and knowing what it is that they want us to do while they are gone and when they come back. Then there is the difficulty of understanding what they feel while they are gone, of getting back into touch with them, of having them tell us about their experiences and of telling them something of what we went through.

It is the lucky man “out there” who has had a woman back home to tell him day after day what she has thought and felt, so that she is still part of his life. It is the lucky woman here whose man has told her how he has thought and felt and acted through the months and even years that they have had to be separated.

In his first article, Sgt. Hutton does not try to explain. He states a situation and leaves it there. It would take more than a column to explain many of the things which have come to me and which I have watched during the past months, but I should like to talk with Sgt. Hutton because he is going to give us the man’s point of view from “out there.” He is right to do it, and we need it.

Still, there is something to be said also for those at home, both men and women. It is a different tale, but it needs to be told and it needs to be understood. If we come out of the years of war with a tremendous number of people – particularly of young people – who have ceased to understand each other, and who each have a feeling that they are misunderstood, it is going to be an unbearable situation.

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September 5, 1944

Hyde Park, New York – (Monday)
Everyone has been saddened, I think, by the death of former Senator George W. Norris. As one reads the editorials in the different papers, one realizes how prone we are to give people their due at the time of their death – but to wait till then before giving full measure. How often, during their lives, the very things for which we praise them at the end have not received the wide support which would have been so welcome at an earlier date!

Men like George Norris were pioneers in good citizenship. TVA will stand as a living monument to his memory for many, many years. It will be the kind of monument that he would be glad to have. A monument of living people, all of them living hopefully and increasing in wellbeing because a man fought a good fight during his lifetime, and won out. Many of these people will perhaps never even know what they owe to George W. Norris of Nebraska. If we are privileged, however, to look down and still watch over the things we cared about in life, it will be a never-ending satisfaction to the quiet, unassuming gentleman to realize how far-reaching and how everlasting are the results of his efforts.

One of my most cherished possessions is a letter which George Norris once wrote to me. The things he said had the quality of meaning that could come only from one whose integrity and high purpose were unquestioned. I had for him the greatest admiration. His family must look with pride on his life, so full of accomplishments and service to the nation. In spite of their personal loss, they must feel grateful that he was given so many years in which to work for his fellow men.

This morning I read the second of Sgt. Bud Hutton’s articles on the reactions of servicemen returning home. He puts his finger unerringly on the things which must make a man wonder, when back from the beaches of Normandy or the islands in the Pacific, whether we at home will ever understand what war on our own doorstep might have been like if they had not saved us from it.

As I read it, I kept thinking that there are two kinds of soldiers – these young ones who have had to give their lives in military service, and the equally valiant ones like George Norris, who throughout their entire lives have fought for the right as they saw it. A civilian patriot is never as glamorous as a military one. Unless those who are now in uniform, however, keep up their fight when they come back on the home front, and take such men as George Norris as their model, they will never completely win the war. This time, some of us feel the war must be won in peace as well as on the battlefield.

215

September 6, 1944

Hyde Park, New York – (Tuesday)
So far, I have had little feeling that an election campaign has begun, but I suppose before long it will really be going full blast.

Up to now, it has seemed to me that the only use people have made of it is to give vent to some of their stored-up disagreeable thoughts under the guise of telling great truths to the nation – the excuse, of course, being that we were going through our usual political crises before elections. Perhaps this is a good thing, for it lets all of us get out of our systems the disagreeable things we think and feel. Then, when the elections are over, we start again with a clean slate, and in spite of all the things we said about each other, go on working together on a comparatively amicable basis.

More of my summer’s guests left today, and I felt rather sad at their going. Children always love to move on to a new place, particularly when they are returning to something which is their own. But I greatly enjoyed having so many of them around this summer, and now the quiet of the household is broken only by one small mite of 16 months, who cannot possibly make enough noise to take the place of several older ones. She is a very charming companion, however, and we are grateful to have her around, for she will be the only child to keep us occupied during the next few weeks.

One of my regrets is that this really marks the end of the summer for me. I shall be away from here a great deal of the time from now on, and the real joy of country life, of course, is when you live it day by day.

We had a curious experience last night. Most of us were awakened to find that our beds were shaking under us, and apparently the whole house was shaking too. I switched on my light, and noticed that lights in other rooms also went on. But in a few seconds, everything steadied itself again, and I put out my light and went back to sleep.

This morning I learned that those sleeping in the middle of the house had not been disturbed at all. In the other wing, however, everyone had been awakened and had got up wondering whether they were having a bad dream or whether this strange tremor was real. Over the radio this morning came the news that the center of the earthquake had been somewhere else, and that one person had been killed. Apparently, we were just getting the outer edges of the quake’s radiations.

216

September 7, 1944

Hyde Park, New York – (Wednesday)
I have been getting many letters lately about the question of housing for service people stationed in different parts of the country. Workers are somewhat better taken care of, since there is defense housing which is sometimes available to them. But few seem to have considered the needs of men on limited service, who want their families with them, or of men who will soon be going overseas and who also want their families with them.

I know there is much to be said against families being near their men in camp. Nevertheless, it seems to me quite a human thing for people who love each other to try to be together when they know that a long separation faces them in the near future. It might therefore be wise to face conditions as they are.

In addition to this difficulty, I have recently had an entirely new housing problem presented to me. It is one to which I have given little thought, and I am going to quote from a letter describing this condition:

“I really wanted to write you about the apartment situation for single people. All federal housing projects seem to make provision only for families. While this is good social planning, we single people pay heavy taxes, are no drag on the community and are at present forced to exist in furnished rooms. I have been looking for a two-room apartment for $35 off the beaten track in the low rent districts, and have been unable to find anything except old-law tenements without heat. You may be familiar with the rents charged in your own neighborhood in Greenwich Village. This has been the subject for amusing motion pictures, but it’s time people took it seriously.”

To a great many people, I suppose, this whole housing question seems futile to consider at the present time because, they feel, the war will soon be over and then what use will all these houses be? Yet the housing question is very much tied up with the development of industry after the war. If we maintain full employment wherever we have a big industrial installation, we will need to have housing after the war just as much as we do now. To be sure, much of our future housing should be done on a much more permanent basis, and for the most part by private enterprise if wages are sufficiently high for workers to pay a reasonable sum in rent.

Before this permanent building can go forward, however, financing, planning and the procuring of materials must be accomplished, as well as the reconversion and retooling which will keep every plant going at full production. If factories are to keep on going, temporary housing may easily be extremely important for the first few years, even if it all is scrapped later on. So, it seems to me that the present needs should be faced and solved, and not simply set aside in the hope that the future will not make the same demands as the present.

217

September 8, 1944

New York – (Thursday)
It is hard to realize how quickly our armies are moving now in Europe, with the drive on both the western and eastern fronts almost matching the German pace four years ago.

One wonders how Hitler faces his people today as he looks back over the years of sacrifice and sorrow which he has brought upon his nation. Sometimes I wonder how the theory of the divinity of the Emperor of Japan will survive defeat. In both cases, men have taken unto themselves an almost unparalleled importance and a right to decide the spiritual lives of their people, but the course of events would seem to prove that that is a disastrous thing to do. Both men must today seem to their people somewhat less than the gods they set themselves up to be. Leaders must have faith in themselves, but their real strength comes when they trust to the guidance of a higher power than their own.

Yesterday I came down from Hyde Park and spent a short time in the morning at the Sydenham Hospital. This hospital is staffed and run without any racial or religious discrimination. As far as I can see, it is an excellent hospital and the atmosphere is one of content and cooperation on every side. Situated at 123rd Street and Manhattan Avenue, it is admirably located for its present purpose and serves a community where it is most needed.

In the afternoon I visited a friend, and tonight I am to speak before the Young Democrats at the National Democratic Club. My speech is not weighing heavily on my mind, for I was told it need only last ten minutes; but then I must be prepared to answer questions. I have a feeling that will be the most difficult part of the evening, as I find young people ask questions which are very much to the point and demand exact answers.

Very soon, in every community in this country, waste paper is going to be collected on a big scale. Much of this collection will be done by young people, Boy Scouts, Girl Scouts and members of many other organizations. An official marching song, “Paper Troopers,” has been written for the drive and approved by the War Production Board. The two composers, Sunny Skylar and Henry Sylvern, are well known to radio fans. Mr. Skylar is only 30, but has composed two of the year’s top hit songs, “Besame Mucho” and “Amor.” Mr. Sylvern is a noted conductor at the youthful age of 36. The millions of boys and girls enlisted in the drive by the WPB would therefore seem assured of having an outstanding song to help speed their work and to cheer those who collect and turn over their waste paper to them.

218

September 9, 1944

New York – (Friday)
At the Young Democrats’ meeting the other night, I was asked a question which surprised and interested me. A young woman wanted to know whether it would be right for a woman who had taken a man’s job during the war to be forced to give that job up if the man returned and wanted it.

Now I can imagine situations in which it would be very hard for a woman to give up a job in which she had made good. She might have become the breadwinner for her family, in which case she would need a job comparable to the one she must give up. Yet it seems to me to be clear that every serviceman has been promised that he will be restored to his former job. As I understand it, Selective Service has the responsibility, through the U.S. Employment Service, to see that this is done. Therefore, any woman, or any man for that matter, taking a job which was held by a man going into the services has known that this situation exists.

Ordinarily, I would not think that there would be any question about a woman relinquishing her job and going out to find another on her own. In the case of a woman who has become the family breadwinner, however, I think there is an obligation on the part of all concerned. If, for instance, a man who once supported the family had been in the armed services, and the woman had become the breadwinner, there would be an obligation, not directly to the woman, but to the man whose services were lost. This means, perhaps, that some special effort should be made in this particular situation, and the woman should not be left in a position where she might be forced to take an inferior job at less pay, thus pulling down the whole standard of living for the family.

Of course, the only way that we can be secure in the future is through having full employment, and sometimes I think the plans which will bring this about are emerging rather slowly from the various sources which are supposed to produce them.

This morning I visited for a few minutes the headquarters of the Independent Voters’ Committee of the Arts and Sciences for Roosevelt, and then took the subway to visit my cousin Mrs. Henry Parish, who has been away for some time.

This little interlude in the city has made me realize more than ever how very lovely the early fall is in the country, and how little charm the city has at this time of the year. There is not the same snap in the air in the city streets that one gets in the country woods and fields, and though the autumn colors are not very bright as yet, the first tinges of red and yellow are beginning to show. The orchards with their heavy burdens of fruit are a really beautiful sight.

219

September 11, 1944

Hyde Park, New York – (Sunday)
I missed the newspaper notices, on September 1, telling of the death of Dr. E. H. Bennett at the age of 96. Dr. Bennett lived at Lubec, Maine, a small town separated from the island of Campobello by a very short distance of swiftly running water. The “Narrows,” as it is called, can be crossed in a rowboat, but you must know how to cross it or you will not find yourself landing where you expected to land. Dr. Bennett knew how to cross it in all weathers. He knew the people who lived on Lonely Island, on the poor farms, and in the little villages all around him, for he practiced medicine in that area for 66 years.

Born in New Brunswick, Canada, he became an American citizen and was graduated from the Jefferson Medical School, Philadelphia, in 1876. Many a time he went back to Johns Hopkins during the winter months to keep himself up to date. In 1937 he was given the annual award of the Maine Medical Society for “outstanding service as a doctor.”

Dr. Bennett was a very great person. There is a slight discrepancy in the newspaper obituaries, for instead of bringing John into the world in March, 1916, he looked after me in August 1914 when Franklin Jr. was born in Campobello. He had come over many times before that, however, to help me with some of the children’s minor ailments, and once when my brother and his friends tried to climb a rock named “The Friar” and fell some distance to the stony beach below. Dr. Bennett cared for them and housed them overnight.

We had few serious illnesses until my husband was stricken with poliomyelitis. Dr. Bennett travelled back with us to New York City, and I have never gone to Campobello since, even for a few days, without stopping to see him. I looked upon him as a friend as well as a doctor, and I had the greatest admiration for him. He was calm and philosophical. He lived with people who did not make a fuss about little things. He had been in many a home where one did the best one could with what one had at hand, and he had little patience with anything that was not real, sincere and courageous. His son is following in his footsteps.

Dr. D. F. Bennett has a wonderful heritage, for respect and love followed his father all the days of his life. He cared for my husband’s mother the last summer that she was at Campobello, and she had excellent care. If we are fortunate to reside again for any length of time on that beautiful island of Campobello, which I have always loved, I will look forward to renewing my acquaintance with Dr. D. F. Bennett and reminiscing about the virtues of his father.

220

September 12, 1944

Hyde Park, New York – (Monday)
We feel very fortunate hereabouts because two of our neighbors’ young men are back from the wars on leave, and both of them look well and strong.

Both are in the Navy, and one has been on a destroyer for many months, first in the Atlantic and then in the Pacific. His service bar carries a number of stars, and he does look rather thin. He confided to us today that once in Australia he had walked 9 miles to get some fresh milk, and that since he has been home milk and vegetables are the things he enjoys the most. The other young man has been with the Seabees in the Pacific for many months. Both of them are going to get some schooling before they go back, and in the meantime their families are enjoying the few days of furlough with them.

I think the most exciting thing for many of these young men must be to get reacquainted with their children. Sometimes it is a first introduction, if the baby was not born before the father left; or else the child was so small that it does not know “Daddy” except as a name and a photograph. To find that he is real flesh and blood, and can play with you and occasionally discipline you, must be a great adventure for the child, as well as for the father.

We need rain very badly, as everyone else does, I suppose, for quite a distance around here. In driving through our woods, I am grieved to see even in the swamps that the flowers and leaves are drying up and hanging on their stalks in the most dejected manner.

The lot of the farmer is indeed a hard one. Either it doesn’t rain at all, or it rains too much. He either has no crops, or the crop is so good that he cannot get it in himself and labor is almost impossible to find.

This is a wonderful fruit year, but I hear complaints that the lack of rain has kept not only some fruit, but much garden produce from maturing as well as it should, and everyone finds it hard to get things picked. I am a little worried that the dry weather may dull our autumn coloring. I love the month of October, with its vivid colors, almost more than any month in the year.

Yesterday we had another grand picnic. Each time we can spend so many hours out of doors, I rejoice. But it was cut rather short because we had to leave for an afternoon train. There are no more long periods in the country, I fear, for any of us. We will be lucky to get in a few days here and there, but it has been a wonderful summer.