Eleanor Roosevelt – My Day (1944)

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February 16, 1944

Washington – (Tuesday)
Sunday morning, I attended the first anniversary ceremonies of the Marine Corps Women’s Reserve. I stood with Gen. Vandegrift outside of the chapel at Fort Myer while some 1,400 girls marched smartly by, and I marveled at their ability to stand the cold and look comfortable in spite of the fact that I heard murmurs of: “A palm tree on Guadalcanal would look quite pleasant today!”

The ceremonies in the riding hall were appropriate and all the speeches were very much to the point. These girls of the Marine Corps deserve a special commendation for having earned themselves a place among a group of men who were so proud of their organization that they did not want to admit anyone who might let them down. That is past history now and they know the girls are doing them credit.

After lunch, two servicemen from the Army Air Force Orchestra, Staff Sgt. Virgil Fox and Cpl. Glen Darwin, gave us a wonderful half hour of music. Cpl. Darwin has a fine voice, and though Sgt. Fox is an organist, he played the accompaniments on the piano in a delightful way. They go to Walter Reed Hospital every Wednesday, and I imagine that the hours they spend in the wards are hours of great pleasure to the wounded men.

In the afternoon I attended the memorial service for Raymond Clapper. The men who spoke paid him the highest tributes, but I hope the memorial which we were told is being set up in his memory by his friends, will be something living which can promote his ideals and standards of journalism.

After dinner Sunday night I went to the opening of the Labor Canteen under the auspices of the Washington Industrial Union Council. It was crowded with servicemen and the hostesses were very busy providing entertainment and refreshments. I think this will be a popular canteen, and I am sure that those who work there will find it very rewarding.

Col. Oveta Hobby came to my press conference yesterday morning and she reminded me of an interesting branch of the service in which the WACs are being used, the Army Airways Communication System, which is a wing of the Army Air Forces. Col. Farman, commanding officer of the AACS, from the beginning of the program has insisted that all WACs assigned to AACS be given the same training, the same opportunities, and the same jobs as men. Several WACs are actually serving regular shifts as control tower operators at domestic Army Air Bases, probably the most important and exacting duty at any airdrome.

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February 17, 1944

New York – (Wednesday)
Yesterday afternoon I stopped in at the Smithsonian Institution to see a special exhibition of paintings covering three generations. It begins with John Mix Stanley (1814-1872) whose painting is the rather stereotyped oil painting of that period, but whose Indian scenes, some of which picture Tom Mix, are historically interesting. In spite of their conventional setting, some of the portraits also have great charm.

Next came the work of his daughter-in-law, Jane C. Stanley (1863-1940). Her water colors are full of color and light, and I thought all of them were delightful. Finally, paintings by John Stanley’s granddaughter, Alice Stanley Acheson (Mrs. Dean Acheson) are on exhibition. Her painting is very modern and some of the pictures appealed to me very much, but others gave me a confused sensation, as though I couldn’t quite see what I was looking at.

I am afraid I am not much of an art critic, but I did enjoy seeing these three periods brought together, and on the whole, I think we are doing a better job of interpreting our time today than we did two generations ago!

From the Smithsonian I went up to the Whyte Gallery to see an exhibition of sculpture done by Guitou Knoop. All her work has strength and shows that she is a finished artist, a portrait sculptor of great skill. But her head of Katharine Cornell is far and away the most outstanding of all her portraits. There is another head of a little boy which I liked very much because it was not just his features you saw. The character and the spirit of the child came through, which is something that does not always appear.

We have all been saddened these last days to learn of young Stephen Hopkins’ death. He was with us just before he left. He seemed very young to enter the Marine Corps, but like so many other boys, he was impatient to be doing something which he felt was a real contribution. I am deeply sorry for his mother and father and for his two brothers and little half-sister, for he had an engaging little boy quality which I am sure made him particularly beloved by all his family.

The knowledge that a sorrow of this kind is shared by hundreds of thousands of others does not make it any easier to bear, but I think it gives one a sense of the community of sorrows in the nation today. It shows us the need to go on with the daily tasks of life which lead one to do the things which make sorrow more bearable. If one can keep busy, both anxiety and sorrow get pushed into the background, if not out of the heart.

Last night I spoke at the new National Museum for the Anthropological Society, not as a scientist, needless to say, but merely as a reporter of impressions on a trip to the Southwest Pacific!

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February 18, 1944

New York – (Thursday)
It is gratifying to know how well the Fourth War Loan Drive went over, showing that the people of this country have complete faith in their government and in themselves. They are sure they will win the war and they are sure that when the war is won, they will be able to find the answers to perplexing economic and political questions. This assurance is deep in the hearts of young and old alike. As an illustration, I was told a charming story about a gentleman who is 101 years old, Alfred Glasstall of New York City, who pledged himself to sell a thousand dollars’ worth of bonds for every year of his life and succeeded.

Yesterday I went to the meeting and the luncheon given for the United Jewish Appeal. A wonderful report was made on the need for the work of these organizations to cooperate with the UNRRA. Mr. Quentin Reynolds made the interesting speech of the meeting. He made it a point to emphasize for all of us the importance of our part as civilians in the winning of the war, and the fact that the war is not yet won, and that there is no place in this country for complacency.

By making the simple statement that it was not yet decided who would win the war, he shocked us to attention. Of course, there is no sure victory until our enemies surrender, but I know Mr. Reynolds is as sure of the eventual outcome of the war as I am, and as is every other citizen of the United States. What he wanted to get across, to all of us is something which we are not so ready to accept, namely, that the success and speed of our victory depend on our awareness and our willingness to shoulder responsibility for every move at home, regardless of what it may cost us at the present time in discomfort and deprivation.

In the afternoon Mr. James Blauvelt of Doubleday, Doran and Company, brought me a most interesting new publication which they are getting out on American history. It is in the form of a tabloid newspaper and can be used in schools, but I think it will be extremely valuable in adult education classes. He also showed me the titles of the books which they are publishing in their “New Home Library.” These books are sold through the Woolworth stores and certainly should prove an incentive to building a library among those who find the average cost of books prohibitive.

In the evening I went over to a meeting held by the Brooklyn Inter-Racial Assembly. The report read of their accomplishments is the kind of thing you wish could be read at every meeting of this type throughout the country. A new health center will soon be opened in that district, a well-baby clinic will be available and a number of other improvements are actually going to be transferred from paper plans to realities.

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February 19, 1944

Washington – (Friday)
The mother of a young nurse whom I had seen in a hospital in Australia lunched with me yesterday. Her husband, a veteran of the last war, is dead, and her young son of eighteen is now in the service. It is easy to understand that bringing up the two children has not been simple, but she looks young, and having had training as a pianist, she still uses her talent playing in canteens in the evening. Every night she works on the night shift in a factory which makes airplane parts. She does not complain. She only says that when the war is over, she hopes to get something which she can do to support herself, but which will not be in factory surroundings. That’s a good American war story, isn’t it!

At four o’clock in the afternoon Mr. Chester Williams of OWI brought in the four British labor men who have been touring our country. They have visited factories comparable to those in which they worked in Great Britain, but they have also seen other types of work. All of them are impressed by the volume of output here, and also by the hospitality and kindness shown them. They said that they would go back firmly convinced that there was no prejudice against Great Britain’s workers among American workers in this country, and that there would be no bar against our working together after the war as well as now.

They felt we were a league of nations in the United States – that whereas they were one people in Great Britain, we were a group of many peoples. We have welded ourselves into a virile and strong nation, and no matter what our backgrounds might be, everyone they saw was above all else, an American.

They also felt that the workers of Great Britain had passed through some of the difficulties which are now facing our great trade unions. These men believe that in Britain, they had a better understanding that a trade union was an instrument for community service as well as for service to its individual members, and that every action taken must be for the good of the whole community. They also emphasized that they felt they had reached a more advanced point in labor-management relations, though they were surprised that our trade union groups have been able to accomplish so much in such a short time. They are going back to Britain willing and anxious to interpret this nation in a most favorable light to their co-workers over there.

Before taking the midnight train back to Washington, I attended a performance of Mexican Hayride. The theatre was taken for the benefit of the Girls Club Association of Brooklyn, Inc., in which some friends of mine are interested. Anyone who wants a pleasant and tuneful evening will enjoy this show.

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February 21, 1944

Washington – (Sunday)
Mrs. Henry H. Arnold brought Col. Howard A. Rusk to lunch on Friday. Col. Rusk is under Gen. Grant in charge of the rehabilitation work in the Air Force hospitals. They wanted me to know what they are doing in these hospitals, both to bring these men back into the service and to prepare them, if need be, for a return to civilian life, so that I could take the message to wounded boys overseas.

It is a thrilling program, and one wishes that it might be carried on in every overseas area so that from the beginning, every wounded boy would know that no matter what his handicap, he would be helped to the greatest possible usefulness. He would see that practically everyone can overcome his disabilities and find his place in the community.

I thought of this philosophy as I sat waiting to go on a local broadcast at Walter Reed Hospital in the late afternoon on Friday. The Treasury Department was awarding a certificate to a patient who had sold the most war bonds. A commercial firm donated its time on the air for this program which has been carried on every afternoon at Walter Reed Hospital. The boys went on the air and told what had happened to them in the service of their country and then from their beds they answered the telephone and took orders for bonds.

The first prize was a $500 bond, and it was won by Cpl. Fred Dixon of Macon, Georgia. He has lost both legs, but as we stood chatting, he told me that he used to be an electrician, and he said he was going to take advantage of every bit of training that the government could give him so he would have a better job in the future. That is the spirit which will win the war. Pvt. Charles Goodman and Pvt. Jack Indictor, who won the second and third prizes, sold many bonds also, but each of them congratulated the winner of the top prize. You could see that they were genuinely glad that the boy who had the biggest fight before him had come out on top.

We had two boys from the Naval Hospital at dinner Friday night, besides various other friends, and then we saw the movie which tells the story of Madame Curie’s life. It is a wonderful picture, and I hope it will be shown to every boy who has a fight to make, either in the hospital or in the field.

I have a photograph of Madame Curie which she gave Mrs. William Brown Meloney, and which Mrs. Meloney’s son sent to me after his mother’s death. It hangs in my little New York City apartment, where I can see it as I sit at my desk. The more I look at Madame Curie’s face, the more I seem to learn about character and will and courage. She had all these to an unusual degree.

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February 22, 1944

Washington – (Monday)
On Friday night Mr. Joe E. Brown dined with us. He has probably made the most complete tour of the fighting forces of any entertainer. I know of no one who has met the great sorrow of losing his son more gallantly, and I think his fine spirit is one of the reasons for his great popularity with the boys. A heavy heart must have been hidden often while he made the boys laugh – but he made them laugh, and I am quite sure that while doing so he lightened his own burden. The President and I were very happy to have him here and to hear about his trips.

Yesterday I went to the National Symphony concert, and for the first time I heard Symphony Number One by Robert E. Ward. This young composer is now in the Army, and I hope that like many other musicians, he is finding some important work to do there. I also enjoyed the American Concertette number by Morton Gould, which was new to me. There were many servicemen in the audience, and one can understand why people like Mr. Edwin McArthur tell you they always find talent in any group they appear before in Army war areas. The younger men of talent are now in the Army or Navy, so that is where you find them.

After the concert, we joined the President at Blair House, which he was going over for the first time. The State Department uses this beautiful old and historic house to entertain important guests when they leave the White House, and to house members of their party whom we cannot take in. You would not want a more delightful atmosphere, or greater comfort and distinction in your surroundings.

In the evening at dinner, the young people enjoyed a movie called The Miracle of Morgan’s Creek. I only stayed for a little while because my desk was piled high with mail, so I missed the most amusing part of it.

Today I gave another luncheon. This morning I was presented with the first book of Clipper Air Cheques to be sold by the Pan American Airways System. This will be a very useful service initiated by Pan American Airways, as it will obviate the need of carrying cash and yet make it possible for the traveler to get what money he needs in any of the areas that the company serves.

I have another appeal from an acquaintance of mine who works at night as a helper in the hospitals of a big city. I have read articles about this service and I know that it has been started in a number of cities. Businessmen, from top executives down, who work hard at their desks during the day, give their time in the late afternoons and evenings to alleviate the shortage of nurses by doing disagreeable work at some hospital. They clean, carry trays, and do any tasks which untrained people can do. This is a most unselfish kind of work, and I am sure that when the need is known, there will be more people doing it then there are at present.

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February 23, 1944

Washington – (Tuesday)
Today is Washington’s birthday, and living here in the White House makes you think a great deal about the kind of men who stand out in our history and whose birthdays we celebrate annually. Washington chose the site for the capital and discussed the plans for the city and the White House, although he never occupied it.

To me, the days at Valley Forge best show the stuff of which Washington was made. He went through great discouragement, with an Army that was ragged, poorly fed and never warm, with insufficient ammunition, and with a divided government back of him which often provided no money with which to pay his soldiers.

His soldiers were deeply concerned about their homes and families. Because they knew that food would be lacking at home if the seeds were not planted and the harvest garnered, they frequently asked to go home in groups which made the strength of his army uncertain, even though they promised to return.

What vision Washington must have had of the future to make him fight the Revolution through to victory! No wonder he was tired at the end, no wonder he longed to join his wife and live in peace at Mount Vernon. How simple the little problems of farm management must have seemed as he labored at his desk at Valley Forge!

There is one good reason for paying homage to our leaders of the past – it makes us remember our history and it gives us courage to face the present. If the people of those 13 states could surmount their difficulties, surely our more than 130,000,000 people in 48 states can meet theirs.

Yesterday afternoon I received the newly appointed ambassador of The Argentine Republic, Senor Dr. Don Adrian C. Escobar, and his two very attractive young nieces. One of the girls is a professor of English and the other is just preparing for her last examination for a Ph.D. I do not think anyone need be afraid that their learning will keep them from enjoying life, however.

Do you know about the National Negro Opera Company? Mrs. Mary Cardwell Dawson runs it. They are giving a performance in English of Verdi’s opera, La Traviata, at Madison Square Garden on March 29. Lillian Evanti, who once sang for us here, and Joseph Lipscomb will play the parts of Violetta and Alfredo. The aims of this organization are to offer opportunities to the Negro musician in the field of grand opera; to develop higher professional standards in all fields of higher art; to establish the proper appreciation and cultural background that opera offers; to inspire composers of both races, particularly the Negro composer, to create more interest in composition in the operatic field using the background of Negro folk tunes.

Long ago, Mr. James Weldon Johnson told me that we made a mistake in this country in not encouraging the greatest contribution from all our minority groups in the fields in which they are gifted. Music is distinctly a field in which the Negro people have a great gift.

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February 24, 1944

Washington – (Wednesday)
I had a number of visitors yesterday afternoon but on the whole, the day was a peaceful one and I finished the mail fairly early. I sometimes wonder how the people who are so impressed by my energy can fail to realize that any woman with a family who does all of her own work, is doing in the course of a day twice as much as I ever think of doing. Just getting the meals and cleaning the house and doing the laundry, not to speak of taking care of several children, who in winter are bound to have the ailments that come the way of all children, will fill up more time and demand a more active life than I live at any time. In the few concentrated periods when I go on trips I may be nearly as active as the normal housewife, and then only because I follow the schedules which other people map out for me.

There is only one thing which I find is a real strain, and that is purely an emotional strain which anyone who reads about as many personal problems and tragedies as I do in the course of every 24 hours would naturally feel. Many of these problems are particularly baffling because there is nothing one can do about them, since the decisions involved are always in the hands of other people. You can find out what people think, you can obtain investigations of situations which might otherwise be overlooked; you can sometimes get some material help where material help is an issue, or you may be able to make some suggestions about the proper procedure to be followed in certain cases. But by and large, it seems that so often the only thing one can do is to try to understand the problems and convey in words one’s sympathy and desire to help.

In the papers today there is a notice that February 25 will be a World Day of Prayer. The United Council of Church Women wrote to remind me of this day some time ago. According to them, the day will be observed in 10,000 places in the United States and in over 50 countries around the world. That means that women of many languages and of many religions will join in prayer on that day, and their prayer will be for a world in which justice and right shall prevail.

It is obvious to many of us that ideas of justice and right must differ, but if we pray that we may be given the understanding to know the right, and humbly struggle to achieve it, that is the most that we can do.

Last night I read a pamphlet by Dorothy L. Sayers, a British writer. It is called “The Greatest Drama Ever Staged.” It is startling but it jolts our complacency and that may be good for us.

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February 25, 1944

Washington – (Thursday)
Yesterday afternoon a British woman, Miss Maude Boston, came to see me. She was an exchange student at the Broadway School, Sedalia, Mississippi, in 1939, returned to Great Britain just in time for the first blitz, and set to work at once to help evacuate children out of London to the country. She knows England very well under war conditions, and returned here at the invitation of the Missouri State Teachers Federation last year to make a speaking tour. Unlike many visitors, she decided to be a little informal about her arrangements and to get to know as much as she possibly could about the people in this country in their own homes. For nearly a year she has travelled all over the United States, making friends and speaking to every type of audience.

I enjoyed talking to Miss Boston, and I am glad she will follow much the same program on her return to Great Britain, and tell the people over there what she knows of the real life of the people of this country.

At 6:30 p.m., Lt. John P. Dwyer of Walter Reed Hospital brought the three boys who won the prizes for selling war bonds – Cpl. Fred Dixon, Pvt. Charles Goodman, and Pvt. Jack Indictor, to see the White House. Cpl. Dixon is getting along wonderfully well with his artificial legs and two canes. After they had done their sightseeing, they joined the family at dinner, and then I took them to the National Symphony Orchestra concert. It proved to be a very delightful evening which we all enjoyed.

Today I have a few people lunching with me, and then Col. Oveta Hobby is bringing six Polish WACs to tea. We will be photographed first on the front portico, and then they will have tea and see the White House.

Every Easter we are asked to buy Easter seals, and the proceeds of these sales in the state of Wisconsin are used by the Wisconsin Association for the Disabled. A boy who is a cripple wrote to tell me the story of the reclamation camp which the association runs near Wisconsin Dells, and sent me copies of a little paper called “Smiling Through.” This camp is known as Camp Wawbeek for Crippled Children.

The estate, including several buildings, was the gift of Mrs. Charles Upham Davis and Caroline Upham Hughes to the association which has invested more money in proper equipment. Children come from all over the state, suffering from many crippling diseases, but whether they are in wheelchairs or are only partially afflicted, the program is adapted to give them both pleasure and education.

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February 26, 1944

Clarksburg, West Virginia – (Friday)
I left Washington last night on the night train and got off at Clarksburg, West Virginia, this morning to visit the Naval Cadet Flight School at Jackson’s Mill. I leave around noon to go to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, and from there to New York City tonight, but as the day has hardly begun and much of it will be interesting, I shall have to wait until tomorrow to tell you about it.

This gives me the opportunity to mention today one or two things which have been on my mind, though I have not had the space to write about them. One is the new venture of the American Association on Indian Affairs. Mr. Carl Carmer has volunteered to edit a magazine called The American Indian. His editorship insures good material, and there is interest in the magazine, for most of the work will be done by volunteers. They really care about the groups of Indians which we still have dotted throughout our country, and they want to see them understood and well-handled and given a fair chance in this land which once was theirs.

In this first issue there is an interesting article on the Rio Grande River flood control problem which anyone who has traveled along that river will be interested in reading. I hope that many of my readers will find this new magazine worthwhile.

In the day that I spent in Detroit, Michigan, some time ago, it is quite obvious that I could not do all the things which I wanted to do, even if my train had not been three and a half hours late! One of the things I most regretted passing by was a glimpse of the exhibit in the lobby of the public library. They are doing some outstanding work on race relations and in the American Library Association’s September bulletin there is an interesting account of it by Mr. Ralph A. Ulveling.

Survey Associates has just sent me its special number of Survey Graphic on American-Russian relations. One little fact should be stressed more often. How often does one think of the fact that our country and Russia are only thirty miles apart at one particular point.

Since after the war there is to be great development in Siberia, we had better study that strange land which has seemed to most of us a frozen and unproductive area. It apparently has many resources which must be developed in the future.

Perhaps it is through their art that we will gradually come to understand the Russian people. Those I have met I have liked, and they certainly show traits of character which are similar to our own. They can adjust to changing conditions just in the way that we do. Is that a trait of youthful nations, or does it simply mean that we both have great virility and resiliency? No matter what happens to us we seem to come bobbing up again ready to cope with the new situation.

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February 28, 1944

Hyde Park, New York – (Sunday)
“Man proposes and God disposes.” Instead of reaching Clarksburg, West Virginia, a little after 9 on Friday morning, I arrived there a little after 12, because there had been a wreck in a tunnel and our train had to make a long detour. I had no idea what I would have to do on arrival, for I had a rather full afternoon scheduled in Pittsburgh and I had planned to fly over by the regular plane which reached Pittsburgh at 1:33 p.m. Knowing that I could do nothing until I reached Clarksburg, I settled down to read.

On arrival I found that we were going straight to Jackson’s Mill a picturesque and historically interesting place which I was told was Stonewall Jackson’s birthplace. It is now a 4-H Club, the finest in the country, they tell me. Each county has its own cottage building where 4-H members go in summer for recreation purposes, and exhibitions are held. It is being used by a Naval Aviation Training School which is now rapidly closing down.

I had lunch and met the boys who are still there. They come from the Atlantic Coast states from North Carolina to Maine. They certainly were a group of fine-looking youngsters. Then I went over to join Governor Neely where a large gathering of people from the neighborhood had assembled. After a brief ceremony there, at which the governor and I both spoke and where I was presented with some very beautiful glass made by the West Virginia glassblowers at Weston, I went on to Pittsburgh.

Incidentally, this glass is now sold not only in this country, but in Europe, which is an interesting reversal of the old days when practically all glass used in this country came from Europe. Many of us have bits of Italian, Bohemian and Austrian glass in our families.

I had tentatively planned to spend the afternoon visiting the Deshon Hospital near Pittsburgh. They are giving special attention to the treatment of servicemen with impaired hearing as a result of concussion. In a few weeks they learn lip reading, and hearing aids are adjusted, so they go back to service or into certain employment. I hope that at some other time I will be able to visit this hospital. At the airport in Pittsburgh, I saw the headquarters of the Ferry Command and a Red Cross Canteen run for the fliers.

Later I went to a reception at the YWCA, and attended an informal dinner with members of the staff of the institute held under the auspices of the American Friends Service Committee for which I spoke in the evening.

I took the night train back to New York City and was only an hour late in arriving.

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February 29, 1944

Poughkeepsie, New York – (Monday)
Saturday morning, I came up to the country, and we were fortunate enough to have a most beautiful snowstorm during the day. We walked through the woods with the snow falling gently all around us. It always seems to me that there is nothing as quiet as freshly falling snow in the woods. You make no sound as you walk, and the snowflakes seems to deaden all the other sound.

The only reminder that spring was not very far away was the brook. Although bits of ice clung along the banks, it went gurgling over its gravel bottom and running swiftly under the little bridge. We are fortunate in having many hemlock trees, and I think they make the loveliest picture with their deep green branches powdered by fresh show.

I stopped to see one woman who has a son overseas. She said:

Yes, I hear from him often and his letters come fast though he is far away in the Southwest Pacific.

She is worried because he said he had been where heavy fighting was going on and she could guess where that might be.

The boy’s wife came in while I was there and she showed me, with great pride, the valentines her husband had sent her, which were made out of glass from wrecked Japanese planes. He had cut out hearts and pasted them on pieces of paper with appropriate sentiments written around them. Love will have its say even under difficulties.

As I look at the service flags hanging in so many windows now, I think of the many anxious hearts and the many prayers which must be floating up to Heaven above us.

My little cottage looks rather lonely. I think houses like to be lived in. Something happens to them when they are left empty too long. An old house will have a very distinct atmosphere, and houses which are loved and lived in by people who express themselves in their surroundings, grow to have a real personality.

I had a quiet day yesterday with a few friends at lunch. This morning I went down to Poughkeepsie to speak at the opening of the Red Cross drive at Vassar College. Miss Morena Brown had invited me to come, and as I arrived the girls were all trooping into the chapel. Evidently, I should have gone to the main building instead of falling in with the procession, but those who were waiting for me saw the car top, so they came dashing over to rescue me and the exercises began at 10:15 as scheduled.

I think the Red Cross Drive is getting off to a very good start. I like all the stories I have seen in the papers about the Red Cross work as it stretches across the various battlefronts, and I think people are very much alive to the need of keeping this work going and expanding it as much as is necessary.

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March 1, 1944

New York – (Tuesday)
As I walked a couple of miles yesterday afternoon, I stopped at several houses. In one, the father was about to go up for his physical examination for induction into the Army. His two children are too young to know that perhaps their expected little brother or sister will not find any father at home. The mother told me firmly that she was not going to worry until after the physical examination. She does not want to go back and live with the family. This is the first home of her own that she has ever had and they have just had it painted and fixed. But what has to be, has to be! A photograph of two brothers stood on the mantle-piece. One has been in the Southwest Pacific for many months.

The next house I stopped at has one son just drafted. He is leaving a wife and two babies, but he hopes his wife can take his job and he is glad to go.

The next house on my calling list has a boy on a destroyer in the Southwest Pacific. He has a wife, a baby and a mother and father worrying about him at home. They heard from him recently and so far, all is well.

A good walk it was, and I returned with a sense of pride in this America of ours.

At the Red Cross meeting in Poughkeepsie in the evening, the high school children sang “The Ballad of America.” I felt I had seen much of that America as I walked along the country roads early in the day. It must please Earl Robinson to know that his song, “The Ballad of America,” is being sung more and more often by the college and high school student groups of our country. No young person can sing this ballad and not get some real knowledge of those who make up this polyglot but virile nation of ours.

It was a good audience at the Poughkeepsie High School, considering the fact that many people must have attended the American Association of University Women’s meeting at which Sir Gerald Campbell was scheduled to speak.

I thought this audience was a fine demonstration of the faithfulness of Red Cross followers. The workers may go out into the county to raise the $343,000 which is our quota, with a sense of sure victory in their hearts. I have always made my contributions to the National Red Cross in Washington, but I think I shall have to send a special gift to Hyde Park so as to be associated with our own county.

I shall remember the soldier at a Red Cross Club in London, whose voice reached me from atop a table perched above me. He said:

Hello Mrs. Roosevelt, how’s Poughkeepsie?

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March 2, 1944

New York – (Wednesday)
Yesterday afternoon I went to an exhibit prepared by the United Nations Committee for Greater New York. In an empty store, they have set up a model which anyone who looks it over will be interested in. The map on the wall with the lights going on and off is the first thing that catches your eye.

The object of the committee is to reach the man in the street by visual education, and with as few words as possible to show the need of world cooperation. The committee has succeeded.

I think if we could set up little peace centers with a model of this kind in every district of our big cities and in all small communities, it would keep constantly before us the things that are necessary if the world is to remain at peace, both from the military and economic standpoints. Then we could have a section for changing exhibits where controversial subjects, either foreign or domestic, could be presented for the periods of time when they are under discussion with the arguments on both sides clearly shown, but no conclusions drawn. That would be a way of making people think about public questions, and would, I hope, increase our efficiency as citizens.

Chelsea is the first place in the Borough of Manhattan to have this exhibit, at 420 West 23rd Street. It will be sent to other parts of the city, but it seems to me that it might be an interesting project for schools and agencies in different sections to get together and make similar exhibits for themselves which could remain permanently in each area. Then the current events classes might be constantly making and changing exhibits on contemporary subjects with the help of outside agencies. It is an interesting idea in citizenship education which may prove useful.

In the evening, I interviewed Miss Mary K. Browne of tennis fame at the Red Cross rally in Madison Square Garden. She is now even better known to thousands of men as one of the best Red Cross club and canteen directors in the South and Southwest Pacific. Mr. John Golden and Mr. G. S. Eyssell, with the aid of the facilities of Radio City Music Hall, put on a wonderful show and managed to give the public a fine dramatic evening, making the moments when various serious speeches were made more enjoyable for the audience.

Governor Dewey made a fine address. To me, the most moving story was told by a field director about a colored sergeant who died in Italy doing his job. The mayor presented the heroes of the evening with a warmth of feeling subscribed to by everyone in the audience. Our servicemen stood there looking so young, and so typically American that I doubt if there were many hearts that did not beat faster or many eyes that did not fill with tears.

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March 3, 1944

Washington – (Thursday)
We had a most profitable trip down on the train yesterday! I have been accumulating things which had to be dictated and though the road bed seemed anything but smooth, Miss Thompson managed to take my dictation. It is fortunate that she can read her hieroglyphics even when they have added squiggles from the motion of the train!

The family had dinner alone, which is an unusual and very pleasant occurrence. We sat and talked until nearly 11:30, which meant that I had to do rather late writing, but it was worth it since we so rarely have a chance to talk together as a family, and there were six of us here last night.

Today I have the last of a series of lunches, and after lunch, a group of men from the Army School at Fort Myer is coming over to give us a half hour’s entertainment. This music school is sending musicians out as leaders and members of bands and orchestras all through the Army and among them are some wonderful young composers. So this afternoon we are to hear a number of original compositions given for the first time. Among them is “The Unknown Warrior Speaks” by Kent Kennan, who is a former winner of the Prix de Rome. “The Cowboy’s Lament,” arranged by John S. Barrows, is based on an American folk song encountered by Mr. Barrows’ father in 1880, and several others.

An opportunity such as this emphasizes how much real artistic ability we have in this country and how it is being used in the war.

This afternoon I have a succession of visitors, and we have a few people dining with us tonight.

I was asked at my press conference this morning if I had read Mr. Baruch’s report, and I should like to stress something which I think many of us are prone to forget. Excellent reports can be written, the most careful plans can be laid out on paper, but their real value can never be gauged until we see what is actually being done by people out in the field. The heads chosen to administer these plans can be excellent, but if they do not have staffs under them who are loyal and able and industrious, the best plan in the world will not bring successful results.

This particular report is a far-reaching report. It deals with ways and means by which we will return from a state of war to a state of peace, and it attempts to make our present economic structure meet the needs of a situation which we cannot blueprint. Therefore, the people who carry out this plan must have flexibility and imagination. They must be able to take responsibility, to make decisions quickly, since speed will be one of the elements in the success or failure which we will make of the future post-war period.

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March 4, 1944

Washington – (Friday)
Last evening, I went to listen to a class which Mr. Edward Vander Veen is giving to cub reporters, but I noticed a number of older reporters attended also. Mr. Vander Veen has great experience and background, and will undoubtedly give these young people a great deal that is valuable in their profession.

He impressed them with the fact that being a reporter is not glamorous. It is hard work. I could not help thinking that everything else in the world which is worth doing, is hard work. I doubt if any profession is really glamorous, but if you love your work, that makes it glamorous for you. As far as newspaper work goes, it has a number of angles which appeal to different types of people. It gives one a chance to see life, the seamy side along with the good side. Writing is an art, and like all arts it constantly dangles before you the chance to do better, and so you can never be bored.

I am quite sure that every writer finds as I do, that every time he goes over something he has written, he wants to change it a little. Sometimes writers want to tear their work up and start again, because they feel they have presented the subject from the wrong point of view. Sometimes they just want to change words so they can express the meaning more exactly. Sometimes they despair of ever putting into words what they feel and want others to feel.

If you are a good reporter, you have a chance to study so many of the different aspects of the world about you, social questions, political questions, questions of national and international importance. You find yourself constantly being introduced to worlds of thought, and you are never without something to study. From my point of view, it is a satisfactory profession, if not a glamorous one.

Mr. Vander Veen emphasized the necessity of having your facts and telling the truth as well as you can. One young girl said afterwards:

It looks to me as though you have to wait until you are a columnist before you can be a crusader.

I wonder if it isn’t being a crusader to learn to give facts and to try to get the truth before the readers of a paper. It is not easy for the average person to get at the truth. Even a statement which results from one person’s honest search is helpful to many people.

This morning I am going to a christening of the baby son of Mr. and Mrs. Hans Habe. I am to be godmother. It is always flattering to have people ask one to assume this responsibility for their child.

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March 6, 1944

Washington – (Sunday)
Friday night the Cabinet dinner was given to the President in the White House, and afterwards under Staff Sgt. Virgil Fox’s direction, Sgt. Donald Benjamin, Cpl. Glenn Darwin and Pfc. Erno Valasek gave us a delightful program like those they give in the various hospitals. Then we were shown some war films.

This occasion always gives me an opportunity to see not only the present members of the Cabinet, but many of those who have been with us in the past. We usually hold this dinner on the Fourth of March, but this year the White House Correspondents’ dinner fell on that date.

Yesterday morning the services which my husband has always asked for on the Fourth of March were held, and the Rev. Endicott Peabody, with the Rector of St. Thomas Church and the Rector of St. John’s Church, all conducted the services.

These services have been held for a number of years, and I think they must give to all courage to go on along the lines which have kept us together and allowed us to move forward during the past difficult years.

I am very much interested in paid advertisements which are appearing in many papers. The one I saw on March 2 is headed “U.S. Senate Votes to feed Europe’s starving children. The food is ready, the ships are ready, the International Red Cross is ready. Mr. President, what are we waiting for?”

The Senate and those who wrote this advertisement must know that the President can do nothing in this problem. Even the State Department can do nothing about it. This is a war question and one which the Allied Military Committee must decide. No one in this country or in any other country of the United Nations wants to starve the children of the world, but only the military authorities can determine whether feeding them today will mean a longer war. Therefore, advertisements of this kind seem to me misleading.

Every group interested in feeding the children of Europe is a humanitarian group, but war is a ruthless business. It cannot be conducted along humanitarian lines. The sooner our pacifists and church groups realize this and bend their efforts to winning the war, the better it will be for the children of the world. I know that one of the arguments is that feeding children will help us to win the war. It is said that the people in the occupied countries are becoming weak and bitter, and that they will not feel that we are any better than their present oppressors when we attack. That again is a question for the military to decide. We have not as much information as they have, but even a layman like myself cannot believe that the peoples of the nations now subjugated can be so shortsighted.

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March 7, 1944

Miami, Florida – (Monday)
Exactly at noon on the Fourth of March, Miss Thompson and I left Washington. It was raining. The President and Anna and one or two others came to see us off. I am glad that during this trip there will be some young life in the White House, as it makes it a more cheerful place for anyone who happens to stay there.

Almost before we knew it, the skies began to clear and by the time we reached Palm Beach, Florida, it was warm and sunny. Mrs. Donner Winsor and my grandson, William, met us at the airport with Gen. Alexander and Col. Deemer. We arranged to be at the hospital by 8:30 Sunday morning. We had a quiet dinner. Afterwards a number of Betty Winsor’s friends came in.

On the way down in the plane, I had a chance to talk with several of my fellow passengers. Among them was a young navigator who had been on a bomber plane in the Philippines. He was missing for two years, and as he told me the story, I kept thinking of what his family must have gone through. How hard it must have been to keep up hope during such a long period of anxiety without word of any kind!

He described calling up his family when he was back here and free to call them. He told them he would be home the following Monday morning. Then he said: “They met every train between that time and when I arrived.” I can understand that. It must have been like having someone come back from the dead. He looked well, and I asked him if going through so many strange and varied experiences did not give him a tremendous amount of self-confidence. I should think that after having lived through so much, nothing would seem beyond one’s powers. But like most of our American boys who have seen great adventure, he deprecated any suggestion that he had accomplished anything extraordinary.

Several of the boys brought their short-snorter bills to be signed, and one of them told me he had been two or three times around the world. Another passenger said he came from Washington and had a daughter named Mary Patricia Hanlon, whose mother would be thrilled to see her name in the paper. So here are my good wishes to Patricia.

All day I have been impressed by the fact that for the first time I have been seeing people who have been flown back from India, Persia, as well as North Africa, Sicily and Italy. One boy was brought to the hospital here in five days from India.

The Ream General Hospital in Palm Beach, which I visited on Sunday morning, is beautifully situated, and gives the boys just what they need after the time that they have put in in the hot climate of India which is dry during the day and damp at night. It is not too rapid a transition and yet it does give them enough of a change. The men seem to appreciate their surroundings. They enjoy the beach and the pool, and in spite of some very serious injuries, in nearly all cases they are doing very well. This is the hospital over which there has been some controversy. But there can be no controversy over the fact that it is a good hospital which is rendering valuable service to men who have been badly wounded in the war.

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March 8, 1944

Miami, Florida – (Tuesday)
At 11 o’clock Sunday morning we left Palm Beach for Miami. We drove to the Coral Gables Hospital, which is an Air Force hospital, and we had lunch with the men at their mess. The familiar pressed out tin trays were before us. I could almost see the line at one of the mess halls in the Southwest Pacific, for I have not often eaten off similar trays since then. The food was good and the men seemed to be enjoying it.

This hospital, like the hospital in Palm Beach, is very well adapted to the needs of the type of cases that are coming here. I think converted hotels have one great advantage for hospital use. The rooms only hold two, three or at most four beds, which means that the men get more privacy and quiet.

There are some very remarkable cases which make you marvel at the skill of the surgeons and the extraordinary new scientific discoveries which have made such cures possible.

While at Palm Beach, We stopped at the Victory Canteen which is run by Mrs. Rea. It is kept open all year, even when the places which are open only during the resort season are closed. It was crowded with men writing letters, reading and eating. There were some British boys and one from Santo Domingo. Later in the day, when we visited the recreation pier in Miami, which I had seen two years ago, we found many different nationalities represented. The people seemed to have a happy time together. I could not believe that such changes had been wrought in a short time as were evident on this recreation pier. The library and the game room and the upstairs dance hall were hard even to imagine when I was there before. Now they are accomplished facts, nicely furnished and filled with men.

We visited another hospital in the afternoon which is largely used as a convalescent hospital. Later, we saw a very good setup where convalescent patients who are just about to return to active duty, were being given physical reconditioning.

In the middle of the afternoon, we stopped at the USO which is run for colored servicemen. Not many of them come to this city and the community here is not very large, but they have taken a tremendous amount of interest and have a very fine place for men from ships or from shore stations who come in. I was glad to have an opportunity to see it.

In all of the hospitals I found Red Cross workers helping with the craft work which the patients enjoy. They also do the contacting of families without having the complications which people overseas suffer from in getting their cables through.

At 6 o’clock, we reached my son Franklin’s house, and met some of his friends, including Capt. and Mrs. McDaniels. Capt. McDaniels is the head of the DETS (Destroyer Escort Training School). We had made a hurried trip to the school late in the afternoon, looking into the mess hall and driving around the piers where the classrooms and practice ships are. Capt. McDaniels seems to have a gift for training men, and I have never seen more enthusiastic students than those with whom I talked Sunday afternoon.

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March 9, 1944

Kingston, Jamaica – (Wednesday)
We left Miami early Monday morning and fortunately had a most beautiful day for the flight to Guantanamo. The sea was blue and green beneath us with little white clouds which cast their shadows in the water. It seemed no time at all before we were flying over the land again and Cuba, with its hills and valleys and rivers, lay below us.

I was interested to see the many little houses which dotted the hills, and I could not help wondering how the people made a living or ever got in to the centers of population. There seemed to be only little trails winding up and down the hills. There might be patches of green around or near the houses. I was told that most of these people have little gardens, chickens perhaps, and grow a little coffee and citrus fruit. It does not seem like a very extravagant existence.

Guantanamo is ringed by hills, and is, of course, a very finished base. The one great hardship for the men in this area is to be without their families or unable to go home on leave when they see planes flying in and out every day. The war, instead of coming closer, is receding.

Of course, men are moving out and gradually most of them will get a leave at home. We in the United States can be very grateful that in this area they fought the war so well that it is no longer considered to be a very active danger zone. We must keep watch, and that watch is never relaxed day or night. Therefore, those who stay need never feel that their job is not important, because this is the job that guards a great sector of our mainland. In addition, these bases draw us closer to our South American neighbors. These islands are the stepping stones which keep us in contact with our allies to the south.

In the world of tomorrow, the way our people have conducted the war in this area, the understanding they have built up with the native populations and with the representatives of the various foreign countries which are sovereign here, will mean a great deal.

A great effort is being made by the commanding officers everywhere to see that the men on duty here have as much recreation as possible. If they cannot get to the nearby towns, much is provided on the bases. I am much interested in the post exchange shops, because the American man is not concerned only with what he can buy for himself, but is much concerned with what he can send home to the ladies of his family. You can find silk stockings at $5 a pair, perfume and ladies’ underwear, and many other gifts in the serviceman’s post exchange.

The boys here consume large amounts of ice cream, soft drinks and candy, as they do at home. On the whole, health seems excellent. The hospital at Guantanamo had few patients. Late in the afternoon we took off and proceeded to Jamaica. At the base command here, the doctor told me proudly that he had only 16 patients. I will have to tell you more about this place tomorrow.