December 7

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Today’s letter is from G.I. Harry Lowell at the California Desert Training Center to his sister Eva in San Francisco.

December 7, 1943

Beloved Sister,

It is with great pleasure that I received both your letters.

Well, first of all I want you to know how glad I am that you have found a good and well-paid job. Now that you are the capitalist of the Lowell family, you’ll be able to do a little saving on the side – I guess I don’t have to tell you that. As to my promotion in the army right now, chances are very slim, indeed. The only way that I can get a rank or rating is by somebody’s elimination [?] or transfer. I am doing some brushing up in Spanish, math, physics, and I may start some other language. Then I’ll take over my I.Q. test and try to get 140; if I can make that high an I.Q., I’ll be general before my next birthday.

So you finally moved, eh? Is the new place nicer than the old one? As to your bedroom suite I could get you some mahogany-ultra-modern-hazelnut-finished army cots if you need them very bad.

We had some rain lately, and the mountains that surround the camp have a thin – very thin – cover of snow; they look pretty.

How is Hilda getting along? Let me know how her state of mind is, so that I can write my letters to her accordingly. The last two letters to her have been on the cheerful side.

What are you and Ursula doing in your spare time? Have you been boating or horseback riding yet?

How is your beau Walter? Hahaha!

Have you seen any good pictures lately? I haven’t.

I suppose S.F. looks like a big ant hill, with all the people hustling to get their Christmas shopping done. San Bernardino is a sucker’s paradise, therefore I won’t buy you anything this year – unless I can get to L.A. As for a present to me, use your head and judgement, I don’t need any clothes or books. (Use algebra to find x=present; you know, the system of cancellation of factors.)

Well, that’s all for today. My best regards to everyone.

Your baby-brother,
Harry

P.S. That Turkish actor’s name is Turhan Bey.
P.P.S. Note my new address:
3352nd QM Truck Company
APO 181, Postmaster,
Los Angeles
P.P.S.S. The joke was pretty good.
P.P.P.S.S. What’s the name of that fancy restaurant you talked about in your letter?
P.P.P.S.S.S. Even if I didn’t remember the poems, at least my grammar was correct. (Did I have a hard time, too!)

Despite his light tone, Harry touches on a more serious issue when he suggests that his sister save part of her paycheck – an unspoken reminder of their parents’ plight and their hope to bring them to the U.S. after the war.

According to Wikipedia, Turhan Bey “was an Austrian-born actor of Turkish and Czech-Jewish origins.” Just like Harry and Eva! He “was dubbed ‘The Turkish Delight’ by his fans and acted in dozens of Hollywood movies.

The last P.S. refers to the letter he wrote in German a few weeks earlier, which we saw in the November 8th post.

I don’t know whether Eva and Ursula — a friend from nursing school — ever went horseback riding together. The photo below was taken a few years later (cigarette in hand) – my mother’s recollection was that it was taken in 1947.

December 3

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Today’s letter is from G.I. Harry Lowell at the California Desert Training Center to Helene’s cousin Bertha and her husband George Schiller in San Francisco.

December 1, 1943

Dear Bertha and George,

Despite my resolution to start writing more letters more often, I haven’t written to you since I saw you last. Yesterday was pay-day in joy of which I decided to catch up with my correspondence.

As I write this letter I trust that you, George, are in tip-top shape now and that you, Bertha, are working overtime in your victory garden.

I am still doing the same routine work, driving from one edge of the desert to the other.

Right now I am parked between Palm Springs and Cabazon, alongside a cool mountain, taking a little rest from a trip. We, another fellow and myself, were sent out in two trucks to deliver camouflage nets to a little place we’d never been to nor had we ever heard of it. Not even the M.P.s could give us any information; we were given just a superficial description of its possible location – somewhere around such and such mountain, maybe. Well, it was night and time to stop driving, but we decided to get to the place that night come what may. As this is maneuver area we encountered troops who were trying to work their night problems; we’d stop and ask them about the place we were looking for. They couldn’t tell us, but they asked us where they were because they got lost. I got a kick out of the majors’, captains’, and lieutenants’ helplessness and confusion. Those men were supposed to be competent leaders of a large number of soldiers! What a joke! After hours of driving we finally found our destination, though.

We had a few severe sandstorms during the last three weeks. I tell you, sandstorms aren’t pleasant at all. We had quite a time chasing after our clothes which were blown out of our tents. Otherwise the desert is in its beauty at present; it’s quite different during the winter months than during the summer.

We are all getting more anxious every day to get across to do something instead of wasting our time around here. Well, I guess we’ll have to be patient and wait until our turn comes.

I must move on so I close now, hoping that you both are well.

Yours sincerely,
Harry

As you can see from the map below, Cabazon is about 20 miles from Palm Springs. Although Highway 10 was paved, the surroundings were desert wilderness and their assignment would have been more challenging and time-consuming than mere distance would indicate.

Between this letter and the one Harry wrote to Hilda and Nathan Firestone on November 30th, we get a good feel for Harry’s life in the army – both the beauty and discomfort of the desert, the various personalities of army personnel (particularly officers), the sometimes seemingly pointless or incomprehensible assignments, and the unknown of what the future holds.

November 30

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Today we have a letter from G.I. Harry Lowell to Hilda Firestone on Desert Training Center stationery in southern California.

November 30, 1943

Dear Hilda,

Today is pay day – the most joyful day of the month; it’s so joyful, indeed that I decided to write a whole batch of letters.

In contrast to what I thought of the desert during the hot summer months, I say now that the desert during winter is most enjoyable. The days are cool and sunny and the nights are very cold which makes one sleep very well. (of course, I have to be most careful not to knock my toes against any hard object early in the morning, lest they break off.) But it is rather nice now; and just when I get to like it here we are told that we may leave soon. Incidentally, my new mailing address is:
Pvt. H.L.
3352nd QM Truck Company
APO 181, c/o Postmaster
Los Angeles
I went to Yuma last week. On our way back we camped by Salton Sea, a nice salty lake near Mecca. The next morning I took a swim – alone, as my four [?] companies didn’t like cold water in the morning. When I got out of the water I was met by some major who had been watching me from a nearby cabin. Well, the old boy was furious and threatened to call the M.P.s to run me in for indecent exposure; he finally settled down and let me go with just a warning. How was I to know that anybody around there, especially pot-bellied majors, are in the habit of getting up before eight-thirty in the morning?

How are you getting along with your work? I guess you’re quite busy writing Christmas cards, too.

What is the civilian outlook on the situation of the war and the possibilities of its termination in the near future? The opinion among the soldiers is very mixed, partly due to the fact that some read only the funnies or the sports page; some of them are seriously interested in the events, but quite a few don’t give a darn and pick up news items from the “well-informed,” misinterpret them, and start showing off their knowledge during occasional evening talks in the tents. It’s great fun and I have learned to keep still and just listen to the “latrine politicians.” Paul would just love it, I bet.

Well, that’s all I have to say for the moment.
Give my regards to your father and Paul and everybody else.

Yours sincerely,
Harry

P.S. Many thanks for sending me the copy of Albert Elkins’ speech.

A quick search came up with no information on Albert Elkins.

Harry lived with Hilda and Nathan Firestone when he came to San Francisco in 1939. They served as his guardians until he graduated from high school in 1941. Nathan died in September 1943, which is why the letter is written to only Hilda. We read about Hilda’s grief in a letter she wrote to Helene in 1946.

I am in awe of young Harry’s wisdom in this letter. Already, he was a keen observer of human nature – he wrote this letter before his 20th birthday. His words remind us that there is nothing new under the sun.

November 25

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After returning from the war, Helene’s son Harry took advantage of the GI Bill (as he said he would do in his October 27th post), and graduated with a BA degree from UC Berkeley in 1951. In the spring of 1951, he worked in the UC Berkeley Engineering Library for $1.15/hour. Today we see correspondence regarding his application to work for the CIA.

20 November 1951

Dear Mr. Lowell:

Reference is made to our recent correspondence concerning your employment with this Agency.
Since we have not heard from you nor received the completed application forms, we are wondering if you are interested in applying for a position with us. We would like very much to hear from you, so that we may know what disposition to make in your case.

If we do not hear from you within fifteen days we shall assume that you are not interested in being considered for employment with us.

Very truly yours,
L.F. Holmes, Chief
Personnel Procurement

 December 7, 1951

Dear Mr. Holmes:

It is with sincere regrets that I must, at the present time, let pass up the opportunity of working with your agency.

One month before I received communication from you I obtained a very satisfactory position in public relations which I do not want to give up for the time being.

Nevertheless, I have not given up my plans of entering either your agency or Foreign Servie for which my training has prepared me. I think that public relations experience will but add to my qualifications for government service.

I have resolved to keep up my studies in the international field and not to allow my fluency in French, German, and Russian suffer in any way, although I have no opportunity to apply this part of my training to the present position.

Hoping that I shall be a more valuable man to you after having served my apprenticeship in public relations, I remain

Yours sincerely,

After graduating from college, Harry looked into a variety of possible career possibilities, including working for the California Redwood Association, as we saw in the October 31st post. In April 1951, he applied to work for the civilian branch of the army as an “Intelligence Research Analyst” in Europe, although he had been told there were no openings at the time. He tries to keep that door open in his letter to the CIA representative.

Although Harry was drawn to a job that would take him back to Europe and allow him to use his language skills, at this point his mother was living with him and he probably rethought the wisdom of his leaving her again.  

November 20

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Harry was in a prolific letter-writing mood in November 1944. Today’s letter to his sister Eva in San Francisco was written the day after the letter to the Schillers which we saw yesterday.

New Guinea
20 November 1944

Beloved Sister,

I am writing this letter with one eye only, the other being glued to the lovely portrait of yours that lies before me; believe me it is a great morale booster in addition to being a very pretty sight. (At least one of us is goodlooking, even if it isn’t I. I hope you found out by now that I am in a rather flattering mood and that I am not doing that for nothing; knowing me as you do you’ll have gathered that I want something in return for my compliments. I am going to list things that I want at the end of this letter so that you don’t get annoyed before you even have read the letter.) Seriously, I think it is a darn good likeness of yourself – a very pretty one at that (whistle).

I received all your griping letters in which you. called me all these nice names in reference to my correspondence habits; I cannot say that I blame you for that. After all, you are one of my most faithful correspondents, and I should be ashamed of myself for carrying on the way I do. Your weak brother again asks your forgiveness. I’ll try to make this a long letter to make up for the ones I didn’t write.

By now you have probably gotten my last letter I wrote to you. It was the first one I wrote from this new APO (503). Please let me know whether you received it, because its contents was very important; if you didn’t get it I’ll have to repeat what I have written.

I sent Julia two negatives of snapshots taken of me here and I told her to give them to you as soon as she got her prints made. I’d appreciate it if you had about five of each printed for me so that you can send them to me in one of your letters; (I want to send them to some people I know and I can’t get any prints here.) and as long as you have prints made, get enough to distribute them to anybody that cares to have some. While I am on the subject of snapshots I want to mention that if you want more you’ll have to send some films (that’s gold in New Guinea); I know it is pretty hard to get film in the States but you may be able to acquire some through some black market channels. A friend of mine has a camera I can use; the size of the film required for that camera is 6-20. Whenever you are able to get ahold of that size film, just forward it to me – it will be very much appreciated*.

I was just interrupted by a bunch of fellows and was treated to a bottle of beer, so from here on my letter may sound a bit corny in spotsh, yesh.  Twenty-four bottles used to be sufficient for me, but no more; whenever I sight a bunch of guys drinking beer I rush over and stick around until some good soul offers me a swallow of that nectar; in the event that there are no suckers in the crowd, I walk up to the first man, slap him on the back, take the bottle out of his hand, say “hello, old boy”, take a double swig, and return it to him accompanied with another slap on the back. (Above is quoted from my latest book “How to influence people and take advantage of their Beer.”) You know the old trick cigarette smokers use to smoke someone else’s cigarettes, don’t you? I apply such a trick to beer.

I just had a most hair-raising experience. One of those crazy grasshoppers hopped on my nose and got slapped to death by me; the blow divided the beast into two fractions: one, a lonely sinewy leg, and two, the dead remainder of the grasshopper which dropped to the floor. The lonely leg fell on the typewriter keys; when I was about to pick it up and throw after the dead body, it jumped into the air as if the body had been with it still. I either witnessed a remarkable natural phenomenon or I’d better cut out drinking beer. (This episode reminds me of the poem “The Knee” we read in school, remember?)

So you are one of the ten remaining “old maids” of your graduating class, eh? And you intend to be a bachelor girl, tsk, tsk. Don’t forget, men will be scarce after this war; you still got your pick – it  may be too late some day. By the way, who is your current beau? (How does that song go “Pick roses in Spring while they bloom, for in Fall they wilt away”, or something like it?)

What did you think of my postwar plans? Aren’t they great, though? If you have any suggestions, send them in.

How is your job getting along? Have you received any more raises in salary? I sincerely hope that you haven’t been contemplating again on joining the Army Nurse Corps; anyway, the war will be over soon (maybe). Furthermore I stated another reason in my last lesson and I think you will agree with me on that matter.

What is Paul doing these days? Have you or anyone heard from Robert lately? I was surprised to learn that Ursula’s parents gave up their unique collection of snakes and lizards; what are they collecting now? Spiders?

Well, this is going to be my last page for tonight; I’ll dedicate it to the purpose of annoying you by making a few requests. By the way, I want you to know that I appreciate very much whatever trouble you go to for me. (Editor’s note) (Wasn’t’ that a delicious piece of beautiful sentence structure?)

To begin with, don’t forget those films. Secondly I want some film, furthermore I could use some more film. (You see, film is really on my mind)

When I started this letter I had a lot of stuff in my head that I wanted you to get for me and now cannot remember anything but the film. It’ll have to wait until I remember the things I wanted, I guess. I will elt you know in my next letter (which will be forghcoming sooner than you will expect). Until then, I remain your loving brother and chief pinup boy,

Harry.

 P.S. Say hello to everybody
P.P.S. Enclosed is a cartoon you might enjoy.

I believe the portrait Harry refers to is the one we saw in the September 12th post.

It appears Harry is referring to a poem called “The Knee” (Das Knie) by Christian Morgenstern. I didn’t find a poem about roses with the words Harry recalls. Perhaps he meant the poem by Robert Herrick that begins: “Gather ye rosebuds while ye may.” That poem certainly is in keeping with what he is telling his sister.

We read about Harry’s postwar plans in the October 27th post – he intends to live a life of full time work and study, while taking advantage of the G.I. Bill.

As I read Harry’s gratitude for his sister’s faithful correspondence, I thought about how my mother must have felt during these years. After leaving their parents behind in Vienna, Eva and Harry began their new lives in San Francisco, expecting Helene and Vitali to soon join them. Over the next few, the only thing Eva could do was write to her parents regularly so they knew they were loved and not forgotten. Correspondence became impossible in late 1941 after the U.S. joined the war. Eva and Harry knew nothing about how their parents were faring and could do nothing to help. After Harry enlisted, Eva was completely alone – her parents and brother miles and continents away. It must have been a relief to be able to write letters again, and she poured herself into that duty, happy to send her brother whatever he wanted or needed.

November 19

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Today we have a letter written by G.I. Harry Lowell stationed in New Guinea to his relatives Bertha and George Schiller in San Francisco. When Harry and Eva arrived in the U.S., Eva lived with the Schillers while completing high school.

New Guinea
November 19, 1944

Dear Bertha and George,

I received your last letter and was very glad to learn that you are on the way to recovery, George; when I get back I expect you to be in tip-top shape. As a matter of fact you will be well long before I return because I have a feeling that I’ll be away for quite a while yet.

I very much appreciated the package of lettuce seeds that you enclosed in your letter. I haven’t planted any lettuce yet for I want to wait until I get somewhat settled. I guess you know that I have moved since you last heard from me; the climate is a bit different here from that of the last location. It doesn’t rain as much here. I have already seen a lot of vegetable gardens in this area and judging from the appearance they seemed to be very satisfactory. I ate a New Guinea grown green pepper and found it absolutely tasteless although it looked like an ad in a seed catalogue. Well, pretty soon I’ll be working on my own experiments; I hope they will be successful because I miss my fresh vegetables and salads very much. I’d even give half a month’s beer ration for a big platter of fresh, crisp lettuce and tomato salad, and that’s saying a lot because beer is of great value over here.

I thank you for having reminded Eva to send that picture; she finally sent it; I think your encouragement and mine at last made her send it. (It took more than encouragement, didn’t it?) It is a very nice picture, don’t you think? (After all, she is my sister.)

In regards to news or exciting events there is nothing of interest to report; my morale is yet the same although I get homesick spells once in a while. During these spells I mope around like a lovesick Hereford bull and talk only when absolutely necessary; incidentally, the spells do not occur but once a month So you see, I am not in such bad shape yet. I wonder if I will be just as cheerful two years from now when I am still over here. (Don’t you think I have a rather optimistic outlook on life?)

Well folks, I hope this letter will find you both well and happy and I also hope that I’ll see you soon.

Fondly,
Harry.

P.S. Say hello to all for me, please.
P.P.S. You’ll find my new address on the envelope.

In the August 7 post, Harry bemoaned the lack of vegetables and asked Bertha and George to send seeds. He also asked them to nag his sister to send a photo. Harry may have kept carbon copies of his letters – he certainly has a vivid memory of that previous letter. There are references to cattle in each letter as well as wonderful cartoon self-portraits. My mother Eva saved all of Harry’s war letters and also had those he sent to Hilda and Nathan Firestone. However, I found Harry’s letters to Bertha and George Schiller in Harry’s papers.  

Harry’s appetite appears to have been influenced by the years he spent in California – I don’t imagine that lettuce and tomato salads were common in Vienna.

Included with this letter was the cartoon below:

November 8

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Today we have a letter from G.I. Harry Lowell on Desert Training Center California stationery to his sister Eva in San Francisco. Harry wrote first page in German, the rest in English. 

November 15, 1943

In German:

Dearest Sister,

I am writing this letter to test my knowledge of the German language. I am afraid that I will not be able to hold an intelligent, grammatically-correct conversation if I should be forced to use my knowledge of the language. With bow and arrow through mountains and valleys comes flying the Elf King… Who rides so late through night and wind. It is the father with his child. He holds the boy child in his arms, he holds him safe, he keeps him warm… Who has built you, you beautiful forest… Elf, never should you ask me, nor worry about where I come from and …

In English:

Say, that’s pretty good for me considering the fact that I haven’t uttered more than two sentences of German for four years!

Please, write me in your next letter whether I deserve an “A+” or not.

I got your letter and was glad to hear of the good job you are holding now.

I’ll be glad when somebody buys you a typewriter, for your writing isn’t getting any better with your age. Are you getting callouses on your fingers or do you suffer from diabetes; that’s the only way I explain the decline of regularity and harmony in your penmanship. (Maybe you ought to cut out night life, eh?) See my lawyer (Rechtsanwalt [correctly recalled word for “lawyer” in German]). I’m getting good.

What have you girls been doing lately in the way of athletics? (I seem to be in an insulting mood today) 

How is the “snake” charming family; I think they are very nice people, indeed. I am glad you are staying with them instead of with any relatives.

You flatter me with your complaint of my talent of “How to Make Friends and Influence People” (Do you want to take a correspondence course in it?)

What’s the dirt, Myrt?

There isn’t much to tell you right now; the same thing goes on every day.

It’s getting quite late now, and I am getting quite sleepy.

Keep injecting and save your money.

Well, good night!

Your one and only brother,
Harry

P.S. Say hello to everyone in your household.

This letter was written a week later than the one we saw in yesterday’s post. In both letters, Harry refers to the fact that Eva is living with the family of a friend from nursing school, rather than with their own family. I don’t know what was so difficult for my mother – it may have been that they had expectations that she was unwilling to meet, both in what she should do and how she should act. Rather than trying to get along and smooth the waters as her brother would have done, her innate honesty likely led her to be direct about her feelings and to make clear her unwillingness to follow their advice. Harry simply would have nodded, smiled, said something charming, and then done whatever he wanted to do.

On the first page of the letter, Harry practices his rusty German. At this point in his training, he does not know where he will be posted and may be thinking his German may come in handy. Harry tries to recall lines from of various songs and poems from their childhood. He begins by quoting the first stanza of a famous Goethe poem Erlkönig - Elf King – based on Erlking, a German fairy tale, which he recalls almost perfectly.

Harry will refer again to the Elf King in a letter he writes two years later (see October 13th post). This story must have been a family favorite.

The line about the forest is from a Mendelssohn song, Wer hat dich, du schöner Wald, with lyrics by Joseph von Eichendorff.

The final snippet is from a duet from Wagner’s Lohengrin.

November 7

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Today we have a letter from G.I. Harry Lowell to his sister Eva in San Francisco. He is in desert training in southern California (see August 16 post).

November 7, 1943

Dear Sister,

Well, I’ve finally decided to write you a letter – after a lot of struggling with myself. This is the first letter I have written since I came back from my furlough.

You’ve probably received that recording from L.A. by now; I don’t think that voice sounds like mine at all, do you? The lady that made the record at the U.S.O. dragged me into her studio, and I couldn’t say no.

How is everything going with you? Did you find a job that suits you yet?

We are having quite a few sandstorms these days; have you ever been in a sandstorm? Most of our tents were blown away or torn; we have to wear goggles to protect our eyes; the food consists of 50% sand; our rifles and trucks are clogged up most of the time, etc. All in all, it’s a mess. We are told that it wouldn’t last much longer. (I hope)

On my trip to the desert I looked all over for snakes, but I didn’t even see a lizard. As for cacti (cactuses? cactusi?), I saw very beautiful ones but wasn’t able to get any because they belonged to a hotel at Palm Springs. Tell Mrs. Koenig (I think that’s her name) I’ll keep looking.

I have been quite disgusted lately; blue is the word. The other day I drove for the salvage depot and saw one of a few examples of inexcusable waste. Brand new test tubes, pill boxes, first aid kits (containing hard-to-get drugs), loads of filter paper, and cases of sodium amytal for injections. All these things had been thrown together with old clothes, storm tents, shoes, and other salvage. I could have killed the officer who was responsible for such an outrageous waste of and unconcern for valuable government property. Grr!

Quite a few of the men in the company are getting soft gums and bad teeth because a stupid bastard of a colonel or general has made up his mind to feed us canned food only. Oh, I am so mad*!@% (Could you send me a set of teeth?)

Well, that’s all for now. Say hello to your household, keep your nose clean, and don’t get into any fights with the family.

As always,
Your favorite brother,
Harry

P.S. How about that picture? What’s your phone number?

I included a photo of a USO recording Harry made in the May 3rd post – I assumed he had made it for her birthday. I have a vague memory of listening to it when I was a child, but can no longer make it work.

In this and other letters, Harry refers to Mrs. Koenig – she was the mother of Eva’s fellow nursing student Ursula Lucks and Eva’s landlady for many years. I remember her as a sweet old lady who took me to the zoo. Earlier this year I searched on Ancestry for more information, and discovered that Margaret Koenig was born in Germany in 1898. Her daughter Ursula Lucks also was born in Germany. Margaret was widowed before coming to the U.S. with Ursula in 1927. According to the 1930 census, she worked as a wrapper in a candy factory (shades of I Love Lucy!). In 1934, she married Ewald Koenig, also an emigré from Germany.

Here is a photo from the late 1940s of Helene, Mrs. Koenig, her husband, daughter, and my parents:

Back row: Helene, Mrs. Koenig’s second husband Ewald Koenig, Ursula Lucks, Eva
Front row: Margarate Koenig, Eva’s husband LP Goldsmith

November 2

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Helene’s son Harry received his Honorable Discharge from the U.S. Army on November 1, 1945 while recuperating from a tropical illness at Mitchell Convalescent Hospital at Camp Lockett in California.

In the October 12th and 13th posts, we saw two letters from Harry while he was at the hospital.

In earlier letters, Harry anticipated being stationed in the South Pacific until well into 1946. He and his sister Eva must have been grateful that he was discharged earlier and now could help get their mother to the U.S. from Istanbul, where she had been stuck for months.

October 31

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In this application letter to the California Redwood Association, we learn about Harry’s life after being discharged from the army.

October 31, 1951

Dear Sir:
I am very much interested in the position we discussed today and should like to give you a summary of my qualifications, as you suggested.

I am 28 years of age, graduate of Mission High School in San Francisco and of the University of California at Berkeley, with a major in Communication and Public Policy and a minor in science and foreign languages.

After graduation from high school in 1941 I worked as general office clerk and city collector for the Triangle Produce Company in Sacramento until my induction into the Army in March 1943. My army experience included among other duties that of personnel and information and education noncom for battalion headquarters in the South Pacific area. Honorably discharged in November 1945, I entered the employ of Wm. Taaffe & Company, San Francisco as bookkeeper and assistant to the secretary treasurer and worked there until February 1947. I then began my studies in the College of Agriculture, switched to the College of Letters and Science a year and a half later, and graduated in January 1951. At the present time I am working as technical translator for the Institute of Engineering Research at the University of California.

The major of Communication and Public Policy covered the study of the nature of language and the nature of the media of mass communication: radio, press, and film, as well as the role played by informative and persuasive communication in modifying the character of public opinion and public institutions. The curriculum included courses in the social sciences, public speaking, content analysis, and journalism. Extra-curricular activities included those of social chairman and president of a students’ living group.

During the last two and a half years of my college career I worked as library assistant in the library of the departments of Engineering and Architecture, doing general library and reference work.

I shall be happy to answer any questions concerning my qualifications and am at your disposal at any time.

Yours sincerely,
Harry L. Lowell

References:….

Harry got the job and worked for the California Redwood Association for several years. The position allowed him to travel all over the United States and not be stuck at a desk. The students’ living group he mentions was the University Student Cooperative Association (the USCA, now called the Berkeley Student Cooperative), which offered cheap housing for students in exchange for them working several hours a week, thus saving money on cleaners, cooks, etc. The USCA was an important part of Harry’s life. Through the co-op, he met his future wife. After working for the Redwood Association, he had a job for several years at the USCA. Through that job he met a small Oakland printer, which led him to buying the printer’s shop when he retired, thus following in his mother’s and grandfather’s footsteps by providing printing and stationery services.

October 17

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After graduating from high school in 1941 at the age of 17, Helene’s son Harry worked for the Levi-Zentner produce company in Sacramento. Matilda (Tillie) Zentner was Helene’s first cousin and her husband was co-owner of the company. They were instrumental in Harry and Eva’s coming to the U.S. 1939 and arranged for them to stay with other cousins. There were clear rules and expectations for the younger generation and Harry and Eva quickly found ways to become independent.

Today we have an article that Harry saved from the Sacramento Bee. I recently did a search on Newspapers.com and found that it appeared in the paper on October 17, 1942.

The YMANDOS in Action

The Ymandos are the recruits of the Sacramento Young Mens Christian Association physical culture classes in which prospective members of the armed forces, war workers and men now in service attain and maintain physical fitness.

The program includes weight lifting, judo, play gymnastics, pulley weights, stall bars, wall climbing, calisthenics and scientific tests to determine vital capacity, strength, flexibility, motor ability, swimming ability, agility and endurance. 

Harry appears in the photo indicated by an arrow. The caption reads “Harry Lowell practices going through a small opening speedily.” As his granddaughter said upon seeing the photo, “Grandpa was a hunk!”

Harry made many copies of another Sacramento Bee article from January 9, 1943 on the subject of self-defense:

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Hand to Hand
It’s an Art

Judo, the art of self defense, is taught at the Young Mens Christian Association by Merle Corrin.

His civilian classes, composed chiefly of young men preparing to enter the armed services, now are augmented by officers from the military establishment in this area.

Judo is the answer, they say, to the hand to hand combat which comes with war.

Caption for top 2 photos on the left: Harry Lowell, left, locks hands to break Frank Moore’s strangle hold. And here’s what happens…He swings his arms upward, breaking the strangle hold and striking his assailant in the face. He follows through with knee to groin.

Caption for the bottom 3 photos:

  • The Judo come along hold is illustrated at lower left by Frank Moore, front, and Harry Lowell.

  • In another come along hold at left, Merle Corrin’s victim is Harry Lowell. A little pressure would break Lowell’s wrist or thumb or both.

  • Above, Frank Moore uses a cross arm grip on Harry Lowell’s jacket for a strangle hold. Moore’s knuckles against Lowell’s neck halt the flow of blood to his head.

Recently I did a search for Harry’s name in the Sacramento Bee and discovered that he was mentioned in many articles in 1942-1943, the vast majority of them in the sports section when he competed for the YMCA in badminton, swimming, and indoor rifle. By April 1943, he was in basic training in Wyoming.

I’ve been wondering as I find newspaper articles about family members whether this is unusual – are other families so well-documented? This year, I’ve found newspaper articles about most of the men in the family: Vitali and his son Harry, and Harry’s cousin Paul Zerzawy. Does their affinity for newsprint spring from Harry’s and Paul’s mutual grandfather, Adolf Löwy, publisher of the Biela-Zeitung in Bilin in the late 19th century?

October 13

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Like the letter we saw yesterday, today we have a letter written in old German script to his sister Eva. Both letters were sent from San Diego where he was recovering from an illness he contracted serving in the South Pacific. Yesterday’s letter was written on official USO stationery, while today’s was on Christian Science Service Center – the center appears to be one of the many places in San Diego mentioned by Harry that provided a welcome and resources to soldiers.

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13 October, 1945

Dearest little Eva!

I haven’t received your letter in which you criticized my Erlking [Elf King] and I must say that I am very surprised by your lack of sense of humor. What is your complaint, my dear lady? Hell and damnation! Did you really think that I was responsible for such a murder of the Elf King? My own sister!

Many thanks for the dictionary.

Speaking of critiquing – after I put my last letter in the mail box, I remembered that I was mistaken in one of the expressions that I used. Instead of “press your thumbs”, I should have said “hold your thumb.” I humbly beg your pardon. Such a mistake will not be made again.

I want to draw your attention to the fact that I am writing this letter without a dictionary. I know that applauding yourself stinks, but you have to admit that I have not entirely forgotten my German.

(🎵 Do you know the country where the lemon trees bloom...?...tra la la”🎵)

My plan is to ride with some of the others tomorrow to Mexico. The hospital will provide us with horses. I have an inkling that on Monday I will have a callus on my rear end.

The … of Aunt Matilda was very good. Quite a coincidence, n’est-ce pas?

How is it going with my married sister and brother-in-law? Are the dear relatives still on the warpath with you? You have no idea how much you’re losing out on because of that.

San Diego is a miserable city. There’s nothing better to entertain a serviceman than many drinking establishments and prostitutes and such. About a week ago I went to the zoo and spent a whole afternoon there. From now on, I will stay in the hospital and will have fun with the horses. We also have a pretty good swimming pool that we can use every day.

As far as my health is concerned, I am on the road to recovery and I hope to be discharged from the hospital very soon.

Your favorite brother

Harry

P.S. Many greetings to the family. (Heinrich, you’re terrifying me!) (you ain’t a’kiddin’)

When Amei Papitto translated the letter, she pointed out that Harry had been correct in the original letter when he used the German expression akin to our “cross your fingers.” In German, they say “press your thumbs” which Harry used correctly in the previous letter October 11 post. Here, he corrects himself, but incorrectly. Amei mused that perhaps Harry and Eva had some childhood memory of using the wrong expression – I like that idea – that he is referring to the past that only they share.

In this letter, Harry harks back to their mother’s beloved Goethe three times – letting his sister know that their mother is present in his thoughts as they work to bring her to the U.S.

The first Goethe reference is to a poem referring to a German legend about an Elf King which was set to music by Franz Schubert.

Second, quoting the poem “Kennst du das Land, wo die Zitronen blühn?" from his second novel Wilhelm Meister’s Apprenticeship. which was set to music by Robert Schumann and Franz Schubert. Johann Strauss II wrote a waltz inspired by the poem.

Finally, in the postscript he quotes Goethe’s Faust, the same quote he uses on the back of an undated photo which we saw in the March 27 post:

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October 12

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Today’s letter was written by G.I. Harry Lowell to his sister Eva while he was recovering from a tropical illness at an army hospital in San Diego. This is one of a few letters he wrote in German. When my friend Roslyn translated the letters a few years ago, she had trouble deciphering his handwriting. It was only in preparing my posts for October that I realized that he had written in the old German script and I asked translator Amei Papitto to look at them. Phrases written in English are in italics.

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6 October 1945

My dearest little sister!

The pitiful condition of my fountain pen forces me to write this letter with a pencil. I am writing this letter from the one of many USO writing rooms in San Diego.  

I just received the pictures back which I had taken during my leave. I will enclose in this envelope some of the pictures that will interest you. Despite the dim light in your apartment, the photos came out pretty good.

Since my last letter, nothing has changed here. The weather is still the same and I cannot complain about the treatment by Uncle Sam. It seems that I have to stay for about another two months in this hospital. All of my hopes lie in the possibility that I will be dismissed from the army before the end of next year. So there we have to cross our fingers [I am amazed at my memory (in German, the expression is “press your thumbs”)]. I need several hours of memory refreshment (holy mackerel, what a long word!) in order to master my mother tongue again.

Sometimes it is difficult for me to remember this or that word. Then it takes me a few minutes until I find the missing word in the dictionary of my brain. Please send me your German-English dictionary.

How is my brother-in-law doing? (it took me a hell of a long time to remember the translation for b-in-law). Even his criticism of my German language ability is more than welcome.

“Won’t you feed the little lamb,
The little lamb so gentle and good.”

This is all for today. Every time I’m in a grumpy mood, it’s better to end my letter. I’m professing my brotherly love and I remain your charming brother

Harry

P.S. I dare you to answer me in German. Good luck.

According to one website, “USO clubs served coffee, cookies, donuts and sandwiches, but no alcohol. They offered stationery to write letters, bunks to take naps, services to mend uniforms and the latest phonograph records.”

Like his mother so often did in her letters, Harry makes a literary reference, recalling Der Alpenjäger, a poem by Schiller that was set to music by Schubert.

The only photo I have of Harry in an apartment is of him ironing his uniform – perhaps this is what he is referring to?

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September 8

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Today we have a letter written by students regarding a faculty member who taught Russian at UC Berkeley Extension. The letter was signed by 18 students, but I am showing only Harry’s signature. This was the height of the Cold War and McCarthyism was going strong.

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September 8, 1950

Dear Sir:
Having just learned of the abrupt termination of Mr. Karnaugh’s position as teacher of Russian at the Far Eastern Language School, we, former and present students of Mr. Karnaugh’s, urge that he be allowed to continue to teach at this school.

In our contact with Mr. Karnaugh we found him to be a conscientious, patient, and very capable teacher. He has constantly sought to improve and adapt his methods of instruction in accordance with the needs of each student. His patience, his encouragement, and his personal interest in his students have won him the regard and respect of all of us.

In view of his excellent qualities as a teacher, the reason for dismissal must have been other than that of incompetence. Allow us therefore to point out that Mr. Karnaugh has in no way imposed upon us any personal views which he may have.

We feel that the dismissal of Mr. Karnaugh would constitute a great loss to the students and to the school, and we urge again that he be reinstate in his position.

Sincerely yours,

Since Harry’s was the first signature, I wonder whether he wrote or co-wrote the letter. This appears to be a carbon copy. All of the signatures look like they were written by the same hand and pen, probably Harry’s. I don’t know whether Harry signed his full name on the original. His use of his initials H.L.L. is reminiscent of his father’s common signature: H.S.M. Cohen.

I also see echoes of Harry’s grandfather in this letter. Although he never met his maternal grandfather, I expect his presence loomed large in their household. As we saw in the January 6 post, Adolf Löwy published a left-leaning newspaper in Helene’s hometown of Bilin in Bohemia. He wanted his newspaper to give voice to and protect the voiceless. One of the reasons Harry gave up a traditional career to run a printing shop was because of how well he understood the power of the press.

I found Nicholas I. Karnaugh listed in the “AMERICAN ASSOCIATION OF TEACHERS OF SLAVIC AND EAST EUROPEAN LANGUAGES: List of Members and Subscribers, September 1, 1950.” Bulletin of the American Association of Teachers of Slavic and East European Languages, vol. 8, no. 1, 1950, pp. 1–9. JSTOR.

I could find little information on Professor Karnaugh. I do not know whether he was reinstated. In a newspaper search, I found that from 1960 to the early 1970s he taught Russian to kids and adults in Ontario, California.

August 18

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Today we have a third letter from Harry – clearly he was catching up on correspondence. Apparently he had used up or no longer has access to the Fort Warren stationery he used for the letters posted on August 16  and 17. It is interesting to see what he writes to different members of his family about the same experience.

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August 17, 1943

Beloved Sister,

Many thanks for your letter of July 23rd.

Excuse my writing in pencil, the reason for which is the fact that I am operating under actual field conditions now. That means that a lot of accommodations (with which we were overspoiled at Ft. Warren) have been cut out – the only thing for me to do here is to go to the post movie or to San Bernardino. There are no tables to write letters no, no ink – just sand. Sand is everywhere: in and around my tent, as far as the eye can see, in my meals, in coffee, and in my mouth every morning.

This post is a Desert Training Center; the name of it and of certain places here, such as Mecca, Sahara, Gobi, and Indio, will give you an idea of the heat and other things.

Before I came here I stayed in Indio for a couple of days, at a small replacement camp. Well, when we arrived there at midnight the thermometer read 125°. The following morning I woke up sweating; I started sweating just rolling my eyes – such an effort! In addition to the heat P-38 type mosquitoes bothered me all the time. You may not know it but there are two kinds of things that make me feel like running amok, namely heat & mosquitoes and flies buzzing around me. You can imagine what a combination of those things would arouse in me. The two days in Indio were miserable ones, indeed. I like it here in S.B. much better in as far as the nights are nice and cool and there are only flies and ants pestering me – no P-38’s!

We drive around in convoys getting used to heat and lukewarm drinking water. Burrrr.

Well, I am certainly glad that you and Tillie finally understand each other. Say, on your visiting tours did you ever look up the Fulda’s? If you didn’t, maybe you can do it now. I’ve been thinking about something to send them. Any suggestions? How is Paul getting along in regards to his health? Give my regards to the Travis’s, a.s.o.

I hope I get my three-day pass pretty soon so that I can see you before I go across (rumors are going around to that effect). When I’m over there you’ll be receiving V-mail; isn’t that just too, too wonderful and exciting? 

While I was in Indio, I decided to drink a Tom Collins (the heat, you know) and went to one of the two drinking spots of that town – the Hawaiian Club. They soaked my half a dollar & forgot to put the gin in. That’s what I get for drinking.

Well, that’s all.
Your loving soldier
Harry

P.S. What do sheets look like and what is a pillow?
P.P.S. I don’t think I sent you any of the popular songs yet. Here they are.

We saw an example of and learned about V-Mail in the February 3 and March 14 posts.

Harry uses the acronym “a.s.o.” for “and so on” which I hadn’t seen before. It is reminiscent of the German “u.s.w” which means the same thing. I wonder whether he was giving a subtle wink to his sister of their shared past. Helene mentioned the Fuldas in several of her letters and we have a photo of her with the patriarch of the family in the February 18 post. They had provided financial assistance in the unsuccessful attempt to bring Helene and Vitali to the U.S. in 1941.

Harry isn’t referring to real mosquitoes in his letters, but to fighter planes. He confused the names of two different brands of planes: the American Lockheed P-38 Lightning and the British de Haviland DH.98 Mosquito. The link takes you to a video of the two planes flying together. The Smithsonian has a video about the design of the P-38.

It appears that Harry was stationed at Camp Young, which according to the BLM Desert Training Center brochure was quite close to Mecca.

August 17

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Today soldier Harry Lowell is writing to Tillie and Julius Zentner, who were instrumental in bringing Harry and his sister Eva to the U.S. in 1939. As with yesterday’s post to the Firestones, the letter is written on US Army stationery from Fort Francis E. Warren, but sent from California. 

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August 15, 1943

Dear Aunt Tillie & Uncle Julius,

First of all I want to thank you for the candy you sent me.

Now I’ll proceed to tell you about the happenings of the past few weeks. After I finished my schooling I had work detail after work detail, shoveling coal, doing carpenter work, fixing automatic heaters, and also goldbricking a bit for two weeks. During that time I expected to get my furlough or to be shipped out any day; every day I hoped to get my orders the following day.

When I finally received my shipping orders and found that I was going to California my happiness knew no end. Another fellow from Michigan was to go with me. I gave him a long sermon about the beauties of California and praised it so much that the Chamber of Commerce would have given me a pin for outstanding performance would they have heard my propaganda.

We had quite a trip from Cheyenne through Colorado, Texas, Arizona, New Mexico, Mexico to California. The trains were over-crowded; the people were standing or sitting on the floors and in addition to the crowds, heat made the journey almost unbearable.

Fortunately, the Army issued us pullman tickets which were good in case there were any vacancies. As I was put in charge of the two of us, I went to work in order to get a berth. After long waiting and fighting, I finally got a lower berth (for two). Having a pullman was worth the dollar which helped obtain seats in the air-cooled car. I was very lucky, indeed, because right after I got the seats two officers also tried to bribe the porter. It was without luck, however.

We got off the train at Indio, a very, very hot place, and stayed there for three days until we got transportation to San Bernardino. This place is a Desert Training Center to toughen up the men. I guess you know how hot it gets down here. The fellow from Michigan is very much disappointed and I can’t make him believe that the scenery is beautiful up north. When I talked about California I didn’t figure on this desert at all. I’ll write the Chamber of Commerce to give this part of the state to Arizona or Mexico.

We got a physical examination the other day. The rumors are that those check-ups are prior to overseas duty. But I have learned to ignore all rumors and to believe only what I see.

This truck company consists of men from the East only – New York, Maine, etc. I am pretty lucky being so close to home. I hope to get a three day pass in the near future which will enable me to spend a day in S.F. 

Hilda wrote me in one of her letters that Triangle Produce Co. burned down. How did that happen? It’s too bad about all the produce that went to waste. Is it going to be rebuilt in the same place? I bet Mr. Williams was quite busy worrying.

Is Jules still in Sacramento?

I made a trip to Yuma, Arizona the other day and through the Imperial Valley; the scenery was rather monotone – desert everywhere you look. The heat was almost unbearable; while driving I kept thinking about icebergs, penguins, and cold orange juice. That helped quite a bit. A new regulation forbids us to stop on the road to get a cold drink or food; if the M.P.’s catch us doing it we get restricted to the company area for two weeks – and that’s no fun.

Well, that’s all for today. I hope everybody is fine.

Yours sincerely, Harry

P.S. Will you please tell me all about the Triangle Produce Co. disaster? Thank you.

More information about Julius Zentner can be found in the May 26 post. According to the July 19, 1943 issue of the Sacramento Bee, there was a fire at the Triangle Produce Co. on July 17 and Harold E. Williams was the manager of the company.

August 16

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In the posts of July 30 and August 3, Harry mentions that a friend in southern California sent him a subscription to National Geographic. I wondered how he knew people in southern CA. Today’s letter to Hilda and Nathan Firestone answers that question. Although Harry is writing on Ft. Warren stationery from Wyoming, he has finished his training and is writing from southern California. Never one to waste anything, he must have stocked up on writing paper in case there wouldn’t be any where he was headed.

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August 15, 1943

Dear Hilda & Nathan,

Thank you very much for both your letters.

I am attached to a truck company now whose task it is to transport supplies and troops in combat zones as soon as we get across. The outfit I was supposed to be assigned to had moved overseas already when I arrived here. It took almost two weeks to get permission from headquarters to let me stay with this company.

This camp, 8 miles from San Bernardino, is one of the many Desert Training Centers there are in southern California.  Names of places like Sahara Desert, Gobi Desert, Mecca, Indio, etc. will give you an idea of the heat we have here. A couple of days ago I drove to Yuma, Arizona and back. The oranges I had in the truck tasted like hot orangeade and the water in my canteen could have been used to shave with. 

We get up in the morning with a mouthful of sand and cuss words. As we are on field rations now, we get powdered eggs (with sand, bread, coffee, Wheaties, and fruit. (breakfast) At lunch we get canned stuff (with more sand) and fruit. For dinner we are served some more sand (with canned food).

As you know, I have been cheated out of a furlough which I was supposed to get in Wyoming. I may be able to get a three-day pass in the near future which will enable me to stay in S.F. for a bit more than a day. Then I’ll have to do a lot of running around, maybe I can swipe a jeep and bring it with me.

The reason that I was able to send Paul the rations was that I mooched them from some pals who refused to eat them. (They went to town and had a steak dinner.)

When I get my pass, I’ll wire you immediately. I’ll be looking forward to your cooking, indeed. Please, be sure to add a pinch of sand, a pinch of dust, and half a handful of red ants (diameter 5/16”) to everything you cook to preserve my good health. The lack of the above-mentioned ingredients might cause me discomfort.

Well, I guess that’s all for today. I hope I’ll be seeing you soon.

Sincerely,
Harry

P.S. Would you like me to get some sand fleas for Mouffle?

We saw a photograph of Mouffle with Harry and Eva in the June 20 post.

Harry was one of the most optimistic people I have ever known. He often spoke about how lucky he had been in life. Given his and his family’s losses and life experiences, I so admired his outlook. One of the things he felt most fortunate about was that he did not ship out to Europe with his original unit, as he mentions in this letter. Because of transportation issues, he and a fellow soldier took much longer to get to their destination and the unit left without them. Harry told me that most of his original unit died soon after arriving in Europe. I had always thought it strange that the U.S. Army would have sent a native German speaker to serve in the South Pacific. Apparently it was because of missed connections.

August 7

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New Guinea
August 2, 1944

Dear Bertha and George,

I was happy to hear from you again and I found your letter quite encouraging, you are a true booster of my morale. I am in rather good spirits as yet – but another two and a half years of this and I’ll be a sad looking individual. 

“Name me no names for my disease
With uninforming breath;
I tell you I am none of these,
But homesick unto death.”
W.B.

I had better get out of this mood quickly before I start getting too sentimental, eh? After all I am very lucky compared to those poor G.I.’s who have been here for nearly three years; it’s only been seven months since I arrived on this island (…….long, long ago, long, long ago….) I think the lack of sufficient sunshine is what makes me so gloomy; you have heard of rain in the tropics, have you not? That’s the rain that never stops and that never gives the sun a chance to peek through its wet curtain of gray. (Rather poetic, yes?) When there is sunshine I always feel happy and joyful like a lark and don’t know worry or gloom. This dreary, drizzling, dropical (pardon – poetic license) climate makes a man think; and when a soldier, who is thousands of miles away from home and civilization, starts to think and think – you can imagine the result. There is one thing that a man must learn here to keep him from going batty, namely not to do too much thinking, too often, too long, and too seriously. The best thing to do is to pursue some hobby to keep one’s mind away from things. That reminds me, I finally decided to take advantage of your offer to send me anything I needed. Will you kindly send me about ten packages of assorted seeds, both flower and vegetable. I want to do a bit of experimenting here. I know, there are a lot of plants which won’t grow here, but I want to try anyway; the soil is extremely rich and fresh vegetables will be much tastier than the “C” rations we are getting. I realize that what I ask sounds quite crazy to you, but I am serious about this. I am looking forward to getting that package from you. As for reading material, I have sufficient; a friend of mine in So. California presented me with a subscription to the National Geographic Magazine, which I enjoy very much. The Special Service branch of the Army furnishes us with good books and magazines that keep our spare moments occupied. Eva has been sending me the Sunday editions of the Chronicle; you see, there is no lack of reading material.

Have you been having luck with your garden this year? I heard the weather hasn’t been so good in S.F.

I guess you have been to Eva’s new domicile already. How is she getting along? Please tell her that I am still waiting for her picture – a big one. I have been asking her for the last six months, unsuccessfully however. That’s a fine way to treat one’s own brother, isn’t it?

Well, it is getting rather late, and as there is nothing more to write about I’ll sign off.

I hope both of you are well and happy when this reaches you.

Yours very fondly,
Harry

P.S. Too bad you cannot send me a cow.
P.P.S. Give my regards to all.

For me, today’s letter encapsulates so much of what Harry learned from his parents and from his own experiences thus far in his young life – finding humor in any situation and wanting to share it with others; a sunny expectation that fate will be kind; a confidence in his own capabilities that he will be able to accomplish or create anything with the right attitude and few resources – a few seeds are enough; a love of language, music, and literature. All of these things stood him in good stead throughout his life. He cared little for money and expensive things, and was happiest entertaining himself and his family with music, laughter, and fun.

The poem is by Witter Bynner, who began writing poetry in the early 20th Century. The song snippet is from a 19th Century song called “Long, long ago.” I remember singing this song as a child – perhaps in elementary school? Both the poem and the song both deal with nostalgia and homesickness.

June 6

Today we have a treasure from Harry, an “Illustrated News Monthly” dated June 7, 1939 from Istanbul. Helene mentions receiving one of his illustrated letters in her letter of March 8 1940. This is the only example I have of these letters. Perhaps inspired by his mother’s love of language, her father’s newspaper, and his own cartooning ability, it seems that Harry sent these to relatives on a somewhat regular basis.

Harry labels this as the “New York Edition” so he must have sent it to Helene’s nephew’s Paul Zerzawy who had arrived in the U.S. in April of 1939 and was trying to find work and make a life in New York.

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Harry packs in a huge amount of information and sense of place in two brief pages. 15-year old Harry includes 2 self-portraits showing how much he’s changed in a few short months, growing both leaner (from walking constantly around Istanbul) and taller. He gives a travelogue including “photos” of the sights and teaches some Turkish language. His humor and sense of fun shine throughout. 

Below are three photos taken several months apart. The first is his first Turkish passport photo to enter Istanbul, I believe the second is his passport photo from the summer, August and the third was taken on board the S.S. Rex in October 1939 as he and Eva made their way to the U.S.

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