If this 80-year-old chalkware figurine of a U.S. sailor could talk, what tales it could tell. One would be the World War II saga of John Wells from San Benito, Texas, who wrote letters home to his wife, Gwen.
John was a gruff, no-nonsense guy who smoked Lucky Strikes. A tall, muscular man of few words, he didn’t walk; John stomped. Short on patience and long on energy, John spent his youth doing backbreaking manual labor on a farm in the Rio Grande Valley of Texas.
Before he was drafted in World War II, John worked for major Texas Gulf Coast contractors like Heldenfels Bros. and Brown Bellows & Columbia, which was building the Corpus Christi Naval Air Station.
U.S. Naval Construction Training Center at Camp Peavy in Williamsburg, Virginia.
World War II Letters Home
At the time John became a Seabee, he didn’t project the outward demeanor of a romantic and never developed it. However, after seven years of marriage, he still loved Gwen so much that he attempted over and over to put his thoughts and feelings into words.
Here are a few excerpts from the correspondence that John sent Gwen:
“I hope you are not as lonely as I am, but somehow I know you are. As long as I live, I know I will never be as miserable as I have been since I left you.”
“I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you from the bottom of my heart.”
“I am sure proud of the picture you sent me. You are so sweet! Ask me. I know!”
“Write me, honey, as soon as you get this because your letters help so much. I am pretty sure where we are going we won’t see much action if any.”
“This is not what a person would think of war. Some of the country is really beautiful. I will probably get sick eating coconuts. Honey, you can write anything you wish. Incoming mail is not censored, only the letters that are sent from here.”
“Honey, the other night we caught a little animal that is white with a body like a possum and a head a little bit like a monkey. We put it in a box and are making a pet of it. When we were all scared to touch it, I started to laugh. One of the boys who made a new road through the jungle asked me what I was laughing at. I said if my wife was here she would catch it and tame it. They said I must have an awful powerful and big wife. I said no she just weighs 120 pounds and showed them your picture.”
“I was figuring it up last night and if there was land between here and San Benito, it would take me more than two years to walk home. If you ask me that is a far piece.”
“Honey, I am sending you a ring I made out of a Japanese hand grenade. The shell in it is a stone from the sea here.”
“If I could be home with you, I would be the happiest man in the world.”
John continued to be a formidable force in later years, although there was sometimes more of a twinkle in his eye. All her life, Gwen remained just as lovable as she had always been.
John died in 2001 and Gwen passed away in 2009. Gwen always kept John’s World War II letters and they were passed along to me. It was my privilege to know this dear couple, my husband’s aunt and uncle.
Memorial Day Remembrance
U.S. President Franklin Delano Roosevelt described World War II, “For some generations, much is given. Of other generations, much is expected. This generation of Americans had a rendezvous with destiny.”
While John made it home safely and went on to live a long, productive life, his older brother, Lt. Jay Wells, did not. Jay, a World War II pilot in the U.S. Army Air Corps stationed in England, died when his plane was shot down in action on April 8, 1944.
Jay, who served with the 735th Bomber Squadron, 453rd Bomber Group, was awarded a Purple Heart posthumously. He is buried at the Ardennes American Cemetery in Belgium, a resting place administered by the American Battle Monuments Commission.
On Memorial Day, please join me in remembering Jay Wells and all those who died defending our nation. Let’s also think about veterans like John Wells who made it home safely.
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Loved this. Reminded me of all of my relatives who served in WWI, WWII, Korea, etc. It is so sad we just cannot seem to live in peace as a nation and/or world. Always look forward to your posts, articles, etc. Thank you for seeking out all the families who share these stories. Thank you for writing their stories with such honor and love.
Thanks for your feedback, Gesine. Comments like yours are wonderful because they honor those I write. They are remembered!
Such a power story to share. This letter say so very much about
what the greatest generation sacrificed for us to be free. Thank you for writing and sharing this beautiful story!
Glad John and Gwen’s story touched your heart. Their wartime sacrifices were very real and the loss of a beloved brother and brother-in-law was so sad.
A compelling account of what human love achieves through hope and longing via separation and loneliness. The hours were long during the down times and frighteningly short when duty and honour called for conviction and courage. How many such lives were sustained by that love as were those of John and Gwen. How many such stories from those horrendous years are still hidden somewhere in boxes? How many hide heartbeak and how many hide triumph? That is the real history of humanity and I for one am so happy that you are preserving it. Elaine.
Thank you, Malcolm. The fact that so many wartime letters were kept and still being read 77 years after World War II ended reflects their importance to the recipients. Mail from loved ones must have been such a joy!
Thank you, Elaine. Wonderful story.
Thanks, Junette. The letters begged to see the light of day. Having been a Navy wife, I know you can relate to the separation.
What a wonderful love story! Thanks for sharing. It reminds us all that distance does not stop love.
Yes, that’s true, Bev. Part of what gave John and Gwen the courage to face a separation of an unknown length was the strength of their love for each other.
Thanks, wonderful as always.
You’re welcome, Maureen. I appreciate you reading John and Gwen’s story.
My middle brother fought the Japanese during World War II and, while he was in Iwo-Jima, he just “happened upon” his young uncle who was a Navy Sea-Bee on the other side of the island. Both of them hugged and hugged and cried and would re-tell their story often after they returned to the states. The letter to Gwen from John is such a sweet message and I can picture both of their personalities well!
What an emotional reunion that must have been between your brother and his young uncle. Thank you for sharing. I’m sure when John went to school, English was not a favorite subject, but when faced with the opportunity to state his love he was eloquent. No doubt, Gwen read his letters over ad over again.
Beautiful love story. They were blessed to have each other.
And we were blessed to have both John and Gwen in our lives.
An eloquent story of two beautiful lives. Thanks for sharing this especially as we approach Memorial Day. Our debt to those who gave their all can never be repaid, except to live our lives and the freedoms we have from them to the fullest. Prayers and blessings arising to all who will be remembering loved ones who served in special ways. Also prayers for peace in our troubled world.
Thank you for your words of wisdom: “Prayers and blessing arising to all who will be remembering loved ones who served in special ways. Also prayers for peace in our troubled world.” Thank you.
Elaine, thank you for this beautiful love story. Possible I met John many years ago but I did meet Gwen several times. The most recent was about 2005 when I was in San Benito visiting a friend. She took me over to see her n she was her same sweet person even with the pains of old age. She was so glad that I had taken time to visit with. Truly the pleasure was all mine ♥️
Thanks for sharing this precious memory, Doris. I can imagine how much your visit meant to Gwen. She was such a people-person. I will never forget her kind, gentle manner.
Memorial Day 2022: In memory of the valiant aviators like Jay who lost their lives in combat in all wars.
THE WAR IN THE AIR
For a saving grace, we didn’t see our dead,
Who rarely bothered coming home to die
But simply stayed away out there
In the clean war, the war in the air.
Seldom the ghosts come back bearing their tales
Of hitting the earth, the incompressible sea,
But stayed up there in the relative wind,
Shades fading in the mind,
Who had no graves but only epitaphs
Where never so many spoke for never so few:
Per ardua, said the partisans of Mars,
Per aspera, to the stars.
That was the good war, the war we won
As if there was no death, for goodness’s sake.
With the help of the losers we left out there
In the air, in the empty air.
by Howard Nemerov, poet and RCAF and USAAF pilot, WWII
Thank you very much, Gus, for sharing this poem from a poet who was a WWII pilot. We join you in paying our respects to all aviators who lost their lives in combat.