Iowa
Old Press
Waterloo Sunday Courier, July 2, 1944
STEADY STREAM OF OVERSEAS PACKAGES IS MORALE BUILDER FOR WATERLOO SERVICE MEN
Out in the steaming jungles of New Guinea or somewhere in the shifting dunes of the north Africa desert, or sitting in the shadow of the grim barricades of a German prisoner-of-war camp are the sons, brothers and husbands of thousands of Waterloo women. Sometimes for these men the situation has been desperate, has been so heartbreaking that the contact by letters and packages with the families at home has perhaps been solely responsible for averting a breakdown of soldier morale.
Local wives, mothers, and sweethearts of Waterloo soldiers, sailors and marines find that packages, sent as often as legally possible to the fighting forces, are hailed by them in almost the same category as manna straight from Heaven. It means something to Tom, Dick and Harry to see the mail boat come in with that five-pound box of candy, a bar of American soap and a pair of home-grown socks.
MARINE MAIL.
Mrs. Harold F. Smith, Jr., 850 Prospect boulevard, whose husband, a second lieutenant in the marine corps, has been overseas for the past seven months, sends him a package at least once each month, although the package takes at least three or four months to reach him in the South Pacific. He scorns the inclusion of clothes in his packages, no doubt because the blistering rays of the sun make many clothes superfluous, but writes with delight of his appreciation of small pocket-sized books. Glass jars of cheese, peanut butter and crackers are also valuable, and, in the navy and marine corps, Lieutenant Smith need not request a package to receive one.
However, not more than one package per week is permitted to be mailed to each addressee, the package must not exceed five pounds in weight or 35 inches in length and girth combined. The material contained must not be perishable, and knives and sharp instruments are heavily discouraged by the postoffice department and the Red Cross.
Much depends on the base where your son or husband is stationed as to what he will most desire in his long-awaited package. In England, the Yankees yearn for candy, chewing gum, popcorn, well packaged cakes, cookies, groceries and cigarettes. In Alaska, your G. I. Joe goes for fancy groceries, powdered cocoa, cookies, fruit cake—and—last but not least—electrical fixtures to brighten up his “igloo.” If he’s in China, Burma or India, send him hard chocolate bars, tin boxed candies, fountain pens, and extra socks. But no underwear or electric razors.
PACIFIC PARCELS.
In the Pacific, the service man wants cigarette lighters, pipe cleaners, pens, flashlights, extra wool perspirations-absorbing socks, and any edibles packed in sealed-tight containers.
If your son is a German prisoner, as is Cpl. Verne Seidel, son of Mr. and Mrs. J. M. Seidel, 1711 West Third street, then you are perhaps faced with a more difficult and complicated job in sending your son packages through the Red Cross and government official channels. But perhaps, too, that package is doubly welcome.
Mrs. Seidel will be delighted to learn that today Mrs. Ray Paul, chairman of the Black Hawk county Red Cross chapter prisoner of war committee, announced that heavy cardboard cartons especially designed for prisoner of war gift packages are available without cost at the chapter offices. The Red Cross, in conjunction with the government, is, through these means, opening a campaign against damaged and delayed packages, weak containers and those which do not conform to size and weight qualifications.
War correspondents returning from the various theaters of war have seen many a soldier open a package which traveled thousands of miles only to find the contents ruined or useless.
PRISONER PACKAGES.
But Mrs. Seidel, whose son was taken prisoner Feb. 16, 1943, in Africa, has learned much of the intricate business of prisoner of war mail. Each 60 days she receives two permits from Col. Howard F. Bresee, assistant director of the prisoner of war division of the government, one to be placed on the outside and one on the inside of her package. This is the only way in which packages may be mailed to prisoners.
Specific instructions—pages of them—are enclosed with the letter to insure the package’s filling requirements, in addition to setting forth suggestions for useful gifts. It takes many months for the boxes to arrive at Stalag 3-B, the internment camp where Corporal Seidel is stationed, but so far he has received each box, at a maximum weight of 11 pounds. Mrs. Seidel must also present a card at the postoffice, listing the items in her box, in addition to the other labels sent her by the government.
It is a complicated business, this sending of packages to men overseas and to prisoners in enemy territory, but somehow, mentally, each mother, sister and wife as she wraps her package can see the hope in his eyes as he opens it. And then the gift becomes a priceless link across the long silence, keeping a family circle strong and intact.
Mrs. I. W. Fortune, 1530 Newell street, wraps a warm olive drab sweater to place in a 7-pound box which this week she will send her son, Pvt. Merrill L. Fortune, 21, who has been a German prisoner since Feb. 17, 1943, when he was captured in north Africa while serving in the infantry. Other items to go in her box are a suit of underwear, a shirt, four pairs of socks, five candy bars, 10 packages of gum, three packages of saccharine, four boxes of malted milk tablets, a pound of raisins, a comb, three pairs of shoestrings, a dozen razor blades, a styptic pencil, hard candy, soap, shaving soap and powder, a pound of macaroni, a package of cleansing tissue, and one-fourth of a pound each of tea, coffee and sugar. The value of her box will be between $11 and $14.
[transcribed by L.Z., Dec 2020]