Letters From The Front

On this Veteran's Day 2023, I'm thinking about four brothers who wrote to one beloved sister during World War 2.

The Grunke Family (and friends) in 1927 at home in Belmar, NJ.

Recently, I came across letters written to my grandmother from her four brothers while they all served in the military in World War II.

From 1943 through 1945, the four Grunke brothers—Erik, Carl, Fred, and Louis—wrote to their sister, Elsa, and kept in touch with home.

It was the 1940s, and the Grunke family lived in New Jersey on the Jersey shore. World War Two was raging off both coasts of the US, and Elsa, the only Grunke daughter, had just gotten married and was raising her children—Jean (B. 1931 D. 2016) and Skip (B. 1933 D. 2023) and was living in a small house in Belmar, NJ. During that time, her four brothers were overseas, trying their best to save the world.

The Oldest: Erik

The oldest son Erik (Coast Artillery), fought the Japanese in Pearl Harbor on December 7th, 1941, and also saw action in Germany. There is only one letter from him to his sister, Elsa (my grandmother), and the mood is light and funny. Light and funny in a time of war. What they must have been going through and yet still be able to be relaxed. Erik moved his wife and daughter from Hawaii to New Jersey during the war (they even got a long article on the Coast Star about transitioning from such a warm climate to a much colder one). Here’s a snippet from that article:

“Life has changed for Mrs. Erik Grunke, an island girl from Hawaii, who was wed in 1938 to Erik Grunke, son of Mr. and Mrs. Louis Grunke of 2107 F St. S. Belmar. Instead of residing on an army post with her husband, Sergeant Grunke of the coast artillery at Fort Weaver T.H., Mrs. Grunke is now living with her husband’s parents in South Belmar and with her Hawaiian-born daughter Odette and is seeking to adjust herself to the colder climate of the Jersey shore. Mrs. Grunke and her daughter arrived this week after a 6000-mile trip from Honolulu and will remain here for the duration while Sergeant Grunke continues to do his part and repelling any Japanese assault on Hawaii. It was back in 1938 that she married the Belmar boy in Honolulu, one of the three Grunke boys to enter the services, and the Grunkes enjoyed the even routine of Hawaiian life until December 6. On that day, they moved into their new home on Fort Weaver and were just about setting things right when the Japanese attacked. Since then, it has been a life of Field rations and later a trip by convoy to San Francisco and a cross-country trip by train to South Belmar, highlighted by the fact that both mother and daughter saw snow for the first time while passing through Nevada.”

Erik died in 1988 at the age of 88 in Hawaii.

Next in line: Carl

Next in line was Carl, who, during the war, was based in England (he even writes about how exciting London was in one of his letters). Most of the letters to my grandmother are from Carl, and I’m guessing they were close because Carl ended up coming back to NJ and living in Brielle, which was quite close to my grandmother’s house. Carl died in 1975 at the age of 67 in Brielle, NJ.

PS. After I published this post on my blog, many family members commented that they had no idea who “Fay” was and wondered why she was holding hands with my great-uncle when this was not the woman he married. I mentioned that I had no idea! No one left me that piece of juicy information.

Then there was Fred:

Then came Fred (Air Force), who was also at Pearl Harbor and then was transferred to the Burma India theater, where he flew transports over the hump. I only possess one picture of Fred as a small child, but I have two letters from him to my grandmother while he fought in the war. As a side note, Fred died trying to save the lives of passengers on a private jet when he was flying out of Greenville, South Carolina, in 1979. He was a hero through and through. As another side note, Fred inspired my mother’s brother Skip (my amazing uncle) to enlist in the Air Force. My Uncle Skip flew in Korea and Vietnam and landed a plane without power in Japan in 1959. He is another American hero.

And finally, Louis:

And finally, Louis, the youngest brother, landed with an outfit in Belgium during the invasion of the Continent. Louis returned to NJ, lived next door to my grandmother for many years, and died in 2003.

My grandmother Elsa died in 2005 at the age of 92. She was an amazing woman who survived an alcoholic husband, the Great Depression,

I feel lucky to have these letters that my grandmother saved because I was an idiot in my twenties and didn’t ask anyone anything about my family history. And now I know some of it.

On this Veteran’s Day 2023, I want to thank my great-uncles, uncle Skip, and brother-in-law for serving our nation. And thank you to all veterans reading this. Because without you, America, the home I love wouldn’t exist.

You can read about my great-uncle Fred’s plane crash here: https://www.greenvilleonline.com/story/news/local/greenville-roots/2017/08/30/worst-airline-disaster-greenville-history/614588001/

Side Note: This past summer we moved our family to South Carolina from New Jersey. The day we moved, we flew out of Newark with two kids and two cats—one kitten and one old lady cat. It was mildly stressful getting everyone through the TSA, but then the stakes were raised when they canceled our flight. I love flying. So my husband and I switched places maybe fifteen times during a two-hour period of waiting for someone to help us get out of Newark. (Now, at the time, both of our vehicles were on a trailer somewhere south of Maryland. I had no hotel room for that night, no litter box, pretty much nothing. You can imagine how excited I was to hear how sorry United was to cancel our flight. I am a Christian lady though and didn’t completely flip out for which I was pretty proud of myself.) So we finally get to the desk and a nice man name Craig was there to help us. Or was he? No, no, no, no, he was! I had to think that he was! I would not end up like that guy that who lived in the airport with my cats and kids. So I say to my new friend Craig: Please get me anywhere south of the Manson Nixon line, Craig. And after a few harrowing moments, he says to my husband and me: I have four seats on a flight to Greenville, but you will have to run to make it. It’s in the other terminal. (Oh, yay!) I look at Craig and without even looking at my husband or (and I’m kind of ashamed to admit this) know exactly where Greenville is, I still say we’ll take it! So we get the kids and the cats and run through the airport (the kids love this, the cats not-so-much). We get to the gate and get in an empty line (everyone’s already on the plane). Finally, a gate attendant emerges and just looks at us and says I don’t know how you got on this flight. I never have any seats open on this flight, but you Dyer’s, somehow you got lucky. And we and our kids and cats get on the plane. We’re in separate seats, but who cares? We’re going to Greenville! Later on, after getting our luggage delivered back to Savannah and getting the cats into their boarding home away from home, my husband looks at me funny. Nothing new about that but after a few moments he says: I think that was your great Uncle Fred helping us out. He lived in Greenville, didn’t he? I shake my head and smile and just say yes.

Also, if you want to support veterans, please give to The Wounded Warrior Project or The Travis Mills Foundation

Do you have veterans in your family? I would love to hear all about them!