Why did an average American woman become a WAC (Women’s Army Corps) during World War II and place herself in peril?
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Mollie’s War documents the human side of life during the war – a life that alternates between fear and romance, exhaustion and leisure.
It took many letters home, sharing everything from daily challenges to exciting experiences (when the censors allowed) for her story, Mollie’s War, to emerge. What was it like to be in England while the country was under constant bombardment by unmanned German missiles? Imagine being among the first WACs to enter Normandy after the D-Day invasion. Consider using your foreign language skills from high school, as Mollie did when she was transferred to Paris and served as informal interpreter in both work and social situations. Envision a young Jewish woman in Frankfurt, Germany, on Rosh Hashanah, 1945, and walking with other soldiers and officers to the rededication of the only standing synagogue.
The collection and story vividly depict Mollie’s experiences from her first train trip to Daytona Beach, Florida, for basic training in October, 1943, to the dramatic image of seeing the Statue of Liberty as her ship approached the U.S. shores when she returned in November, 1945. This book may be the first collection of letters published by a Jewish American WAC.
Restrictions on the Doodlebug situation as far as our mail is concerned have been lifted somewhat since Churchill’s speech.6 In fact, I could have written a few weeks ago about it but held off. But now I have gotten to a point where I feel a lot of those people back home, who sit back complacently, ought to know that there is a real war going on, and Beck, I see it every day. The air raid sirens are a frequent sound to us during the day as well as the night. And, it means the real thing over here—those damn buzz bombs come a floating round. They have been our unwelcome visitors both day and night since approximately one week after D-Day.
I am sure that many of the people I write to think because I write only of the pleasant things that there is nothing else that enters into our little lives. I don’t believe that the people back home can grasp any part of the situation over here. For some unknown reason, I know it just doesn’t penetrate.