The last letter written to Robles del Rio, California

Today I noticed I have 15 followers, which is great, and I welcome the four new followers, whoever they may be.  For some reason, only 13 are identified on my dashboard, so I am assuming I have two additional stealth followers.  Maybe one of you veteran bloggers can explain the discrepancy to me.  In any event, everyone is welcome, and don't forget our big Followers Reunion in Bermuda this spring.

Yesterday I made several amazing discoveries in an old green army trunk in our attic:  I found bound copies of six of the reports that Maj. Gillham had been working on for Gen. MacArthur and the GHQ SCAP.  They are veritable works of art, with charts, graphs, maps, and the typing job is masterful, considering this was way before the advent of word processing or even electric typewriters.  There is no way I can include these in my blog, but if anyone is interested in them, I would be happy to go into greater detail about them.

My other discoveries were several personal items of Maj. Gillham, including his dog tags, his military ID, and several medals that he was awarded for service in WWII and during the Occupation.  I am trying to find a way to scan these, or photograph them, to include on this blog.  I also found a pile of old photos, some of which are pertinent to us here, and I will post some of them below, after today's letter.

This letter is a short one, the last one addressed to the Gillhams in Robles del Rio, since the family is now most probably underway on their trip east.  Maj. Gillham also comments on the growing influx of private citizens in Japan, usually sent over by private companies.  This is a fairly common phenomenon with all wars, most recently seen in our conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan.

Tokyo
9 Dec 45

Dearest Love,

I don't know if you will get this before you leave Robles or not, but I said I would write you there until the 10th.  I am also writing to La Jolla and El Paso (Gen. Del.) and will write to Memphis.

I certainly hope you will have a nice trip and enjoy the reunion with your family.  It is nice to have a family to go to see.

Today is Sunday and it is a beautiful day -- but I have to work, so I can't take it all in.

The American civilians are coming in here in ever-increasing numbers.  They all have some sort of official job so far, in order to get in.  We call them the "carpetbaggers."  I guess they will gradually take things over here -- and at a very good salary for themselves.  Most of them get from $6,000 to $10,000 a year plus expenses.  They rate as experts, but I think that most of them were previously government clerks or small-time politicians.  Some of the WACS are taking their discharges and staying on as civilians.

I got a good box and I am gradually collecting a few more things for you and the children.  When I get it full I will send it on.  I sent one box to Atlanta.

I guess this will be my last letter to Robles, unless I hear from you to the contrary.

Good luck and have a good time.  I will be writing to you wherever you are as long as I know where it is.

Lots of love,

Bill

*************************

This may be as good a point as any to offer a small biographical sketch of Maj. Gillham prior to his joining the Army.  He was born William Tucker Gillham on October 6, 1908, at the home of his parents, George Halsey Gillham and Effie Young Tucker Gillham in Memphis, TN.  He was an only child, although he did have an older brother who died in infancy.  His parents were married in 1898 and were by all accounts a fun-loving couple who were the life of all the parties they attended.  His father had many careers during his life, but the one he is remembered for most is that of a writer of stories for boys and young men.  His most famous work was The Adventures of William Tucker, the protagonist of which he named after his son.  The work was serialized in The Youth's Companion magazine in 1926 and published as a book in 1927. 

Pages 4 and 1 of a four-page circular touting George Gillham's book.

Pages 2 and 3 of the circular, with reviews of the book

William T. Gillham (who was known as Bill to his friends, but was William to his family) grew up in the small town of Kerrville, Tennessee, about 20 miles north of Memphis.  The town was named after the family of his paternal grandmother, Maria Henderson Kerr Gillham.  The family name is pronounced just like the name of the movie star Deborah Kerr, yet the town's name is pronounced like the words "curve ill."  William attended the McCallie School in Chattanooga and graduated in 1926, and that fall he enrolled at the Georgia School of Technology (now the Georgia Institute of Technology), or Georgia Tech, in Atlanta.  He majored in electrical engineering and was a member of the Theta Chi fraternity.  He graduated in 1930, having witnessed the Georgia Tech Ramblin' Wreck win the national football championship in 1928 and attended the very first night game at Grant Field in 1929.

One of the earliest photos of William Gillham (right), astride a burrow

with his cousin Edward Lang in El Paso, TX, ca. 1910

Young William in an undated photo

William as a teen in the 1920s

William with an unnamed college sweetheart at Tech, 1920s

He met his future bride at the North Avenue Presbyterian Church in Atlanta while at Tech and while Frances was at Girls High.  After graduation, he got a job with Southern Bell Telephone Company in Atlanta, and Frances attended the Georgia State College for Women in Milledgeville.  As a result of the stock market crash, however, he and most of his colleagues lost their jobs and he was forced to return to his home in Kerrville where, as he put it, he got a job with Standard Oil, i.e., pumping gas at a local filling station.  The couple finally married in 1933 in Atlanta, and they lived at his family home, called "the little brown house," in Kerrville.

He was ultimately hired back by Southern Bell and was sent to Knoxville, TN, where Emily was born in 1935.  By 1938 they were back in Memphis, where my mother, Monty, was born.  After a short stay in Jackson, MS, he and several other Southern Bell colleagues joined the Army and began officer training in Ft. Monroe, VA, in 1941.  The rest of his Army life should by now be very familiar to you.

Two letters sent to the family on their way east, and a stroll down memory lane

Today I finally made a substantial number of scans and retrofitted them into my previous posts.  You are encouraged to go back to those posts and take a look at them.  I have also added some text regarding the new images.  Here is a list of the affected posts:

January 9, 13, 14, 17, 23, 25 and 31
February 11, 12 and 13

Today's first letter is one of my favorites, and one of the family's as well.  In it he takes a stream-of-consciousness walk down memory lane, recounting several incidents that were dear to them both.  I hope I have given you enough background so that you can recognize most of the places he mentions.  If not, just let me know in a comment.

He wrote two letters today:  the first one he wrote to General Delivery in El Paso, TX, for the family to pick up on their trip east.  The second one he wrote to 992 Washita Avenue, Atlanta, GA, the home of Frances' parents and their ultimate destination.

Tokyo
8 Dec 1945

Dearest Lovely,

I am sending this letter on now so it will get to El Pase before you do.  There is not much that I can write in the way of news, but I can say again that I think you are mighty sweet.

I wonder how the trip has been so far.  How you been able to get good places to stay at night?  Is the car running all right?  Be sure to keep the tire pressure right;  about 32 lbs. should be O.K.

It has been nearly five years since you and I were in El Paso before.  We had just been to Carlsbad Caverns and were heading west on a big adventure.  It has been fun, hasn't it?  I think we made the most of it.  When I think back over the past five years, it is interesting to see the scenes that come to mind -- A pane of glass broken out at the foot of my bed in a dirty old barracks at Ft. Monroe -- You in a slick black dress in our room at the Chamberlain -- Washington in the snow -- A patch of green grass by the side of the road in Texas where we ate lunch -- Water running through the streets of San Bernardino -- Red geraniums -- "Our" beach at La Jolla with the breakers coming over the green, green sea grass on the rock -- Sleeping in our sleeping bags in the rain in the mountains east of San Diego -- Riding a troop train across the country -- Climbing the bluff at Callan all out of wind -- Looking at battlefields in Virginia with Glore -- Swimming in a warm lake at Orlando -- Sailing on Buzzards Bay -- Bringing in a Christmas tree, getting holly in the heavy snow -- Walking up a blacked-out street in Boston not knowing where we could spend the night -- selecting wine at the Waldorf-Astoria -- A night at Browns Court before getting to Charlottesville -- The people coming out of church at Charlottesville -- Camping in the misty clouds in the Shenandoah -- Winning at the races in Chicago -- Looking at the zoo -- Putting you and Grandmother on the train -- 63rd Street in the snow and slush -- The keen bite of the zero wind on the Midway -- Searching for Flip-Flop down the alley -- Giving the guard your entrance slip at Gardner General -- the lights of Chicago from aboard the aircraft carrier -- The bright stars in Oklahoma -- The first green valley in California -- Martha in her pretty basket -- A chuck roast cooking on the charcoal -- Going up the hill at the Presidio through the everlasting fog with everything drippy -- Kissing you good-bye in the car at CASA -- Watching men come up the gang plank with their duffle bags on their backs -- The spray of a big wave breaking over the bow of the ship -- Fuji Yama looking just like it was supposed to -- And many, many others.  All in all I think it has been a good five years, don't you?  It has certainly broadened our lives and given us some wonderful memories.

Edward Lang's mother, Cousin Helen, lives at Yesleta, about 12 miles east of El Paso.  I think you go right by there so stop and see her.  I am sure you will enjoy it.  Pass the word conveying my love to all the El Paso relatives.  If you go by Dallas look up cousin Herbert.

I also have many childhood memories connected with El Paso.  I used to climb all over Mt. Franklin, and I frequently went down to Yesleta to spend the week-end with Edward.

The next place that you may be able to pick up a note from me will be Memphis.  I am still writing to Mother's old address there -- 1042 E. McLemore.

Tell Emily and Monty I am looking at their pictures every time I write a letter.  I love them very much.

Take good care of yourself and hold our family together until I get home.

All the love in the world,

Bill

******************

 

Tokyo
8 Dec 1945

Dearest Love,

It is 10 P.M. and I am at the office.  I had to catch up on some work and then went to a picture show here in the building.  Charles Lawton in Capt. Kidd.  It was very good.

After getting my boxes of brass all banded and ready to ship, one of them was a few pounds too heavy to go by parcel post, so I will have to undo it when I get a chance and take something out.

I got a letter this afternoon which exasperated me.  It was from that Transportation Officer at the Presidio.  He thought I hadn't signed those forms on the right line and is holding your things in Monterey until he hears from me in Japan.  In the first place, he is wrong, in the second stupid.  I will sign him some more forms just like I did before and send them in the morning.  I hope you won't be too muchly inconvenienced by the delay.

I will have to work pretty hard for a few days now.  I hope I get another letter from you tomorrow.

My cold is improving.

I surely do miss you, my little sweetie pie.  It would be so nice to have you around.  You are a part of my being now and I feel very bob-tailed without you.  Time is passing and we will be together again before long.

Lots of love,

Bill

**********************

I will have to do a little more digging into the Montagues of Texas that Maj. Gillham speaks of here, but I can pretty much guess that the little boy Monte Lang pictured in a previous post is somehow related to Helen and her son Edward mentioned in today's first letter.

Ysleta, Texas (which Maj. Gillham erroneously refers to as Yesleta in the letter), is a small border town east of El Paso along the Rio Grande.  There is a very old mission there, and the town itself was settled in 1680 and is one of the first European settlements in the state of Texas.

The "Mt. Franklin" he refers to in the first letter is actually a small chain called the Franklin Mountains, and there are two major peaks, North Franklin and South Franklin.  North Franklin Mountain is the highest, at 7,192 feet.

From left to right, North and South Franklin Mountains,

near El Paso, TX

The film Captain Kidd was released in 1945, so it was a relatively new film for a foreign Army outpost.  It starred Charles Laughton ("Lawton" in the letter) in the title role, and also Randolph Scott.

Remembrances of La Jolla, California

This is one of two letters sent by Maj. Gillham to General Delivery for Frances and the girls to pick up on their trip back east.  There is no telling when they actually received the letters, but since we have the letters now it is clear that they did receive them.  This letter was sent to La Jolla, CA, where the Gillhams first lived in California in 1941-42.  The second letter was sent to El Paso, TX, where Maj. Gillham spent summers during his youth with relatives.

Tokyo
6 Dec 1945

Dearest Darling,

So you are in La Jolla!!  Now, isn't that nice, and don't I wish I was with you!  How does it seem to be back there?  I will always remember our two years there as among the best.  I'll bet Emily and Monty are thrilled.  Does it seem like they thought it would?  Does Martha approve?

I can remember every foot of ground around La Jolla and Camp Callan.  I don't think there was a passable path within ten miles that I didn't walk (or climb) over many times.  That is really the way to learn to know and love a piece of country.  My biggest objection to my life here now, besides your absence, is that it is too soft and easy.  I am afraid I will get fat.  I only eat fruit and coffee for breakfast, and I walk to work as often as possible, but that isn't like a good old 15 mile hike up and down the bluffs.

Ask Emily and Monty if they remember that Sunday morning in the spring of 1941 that I took them up on the Scripps grade.  It was the day I took that cute picture of Monty, but it had a stalk of grass across her face.  Do you remember?  I told them that day that they would never see a more beautiful scene or a more perfect day.  I wonder if they remember it or if they were too young.

Be sure and send the Adams and the Mabeys, and Tripps, cards while you are there.

I know you will enjoy your visit in La Jolla.  Give any of our friends that you see my regards.  I hope you have a good trip the rest of the way.  Do be careful; and don't drive on when you get too tired.  That is when accidents happen.  Stop early and then get off early the next day if you must make time.

Remember all the way that I am right beside you in spirit and that I love you very much and am hoping to be beside you in person before too long.

Call at the P.O. again in El Paso.

Bon Voyage,

Bill

*********************

Camp Callan was a rather short-lived Coast Artillery Corps post that was built in 1940 and dismantled in 1946, at war's end.  It was a replacement training center which processed a total of 15,000 new inductees during the war.  Capt. Gillham was stationed here from 1941-43 after his officer training in Ft. Monroe, VA. 

Capt. Gillham after a march with his troops through the hills,

Camp Callan, 1941.

The picture of Monty with the stalk of grass across her face,

which Maj. Gillham mentions in the letter above

Monty and Emily Gillham in Capt. Gillham's jeep,

Camp Callan, 1941

Maj. Gillham standing proudly in front of his jeep,

Camp Callan, 1941

Emily and Monty at their daddy's office in Camp Callan, 1941

Undated postcard showing anti-aircraft artillery at Camp Callan.

While Capt. Gillham was stationed at Camp Callan, the family lived in La Jolla, first in a house on Torrey Pines Road.  In 1942 they moved to a house on Virginia Way, not far from scenic Scripps Park.

Frances Gillham on the patio at the house on Virginia Way, 1943

Capt. Gillham, in full cowboy outfit, on the patio of the house

on Virginia Way, with rubber tree, 1943.

Black market prices, and plans for Frances' trip back east

This afternoon I had lunch in snowy Princeton with Georgia Upshaw, the daughter of Ellen and Ernest, who I mentioned in the last post.  She lives in Oakland, CA, and was in Princeton for a conference, so my parents and I joined her for lunch before putting her on the train to New York.  We didn't talk much about Ellen or my blog, because she was born just after Maj. Gillham returned home from Japan.  As the story goes, Ellen, who had two children around 10 and 11 years old, visited Frances and the girls in Robles del Rio and was so enamored with baby Martha that she decided she wanted to have more children.  The next year Georgia was born, and shortly thereafter a boy, who is now known affectionately as Doc.

In this letter there's not much new, but Maj. Gillham continues to show a slight frustration with his inability to get a handle on the family's plan to head east. 

Tokyo
5 Dec 1945

Dearest Darling,

Just received yours mailed 27 Nov. saying you were making preparations to leave, but you gave no specific data on your plans, other than the route.  When do you plan to leave?  When do you expect to be in Memphis?  What is Mother's new address there, if you know it?  When do you expect to get to Atlanta?  Do you intend to return or stay there?  This may get to you before you leave Robles, and it may not.

It sounds like a very interesting trip and I certainly wish I was making it with you.  Is anyone going with you?  It sounds like you have the car in pretty good shape.  Get it greased before you leave and once about half way across.  Don't drive too fast on those tires -- 50 MPH is tops -- and watch the oil , and I don't think you will have any trouble.

Many thanks for the needles.  I will see what I can do with them.  Money is not worth much here and on our 15 to 1 exchange, it doesn't go far.  Black market prices run Y20 for a pack of American cigarettes, Y10 to 15 per candy bar, Y15 to 25 for a bar of soap.  Kimonos are about Y1,000 and dime store articles are about Y10 to 50.  When you convert these prices into $ it is pretty steep if you pay money, but trading is illegal.  We get all our necessities either issued or through the PX at reasonable prices.

The Army has no whiskey available, but the Navy gets some.  A Navy officer cut me in on a case of Old Overholt bottled in band that he got recently and I got a fifth for Y19, or about 1/3 the price in the states -- it is tax free.  So far I have used only one pint of what I brought with me and I have given most of that away.  Everyone admires my pretty bottle.

The Japanese are making good progress in cleaning up the city.  I can see a marked difference since I got here.  They are certainly not lazy.

We have an interesting civilian working for us here in the offices.  He is a native Indian and talks with considerable accent.  He was the Tokyo representative for an English newspaper for a number of years.  He has a wonderful mastery of the English language and is our chief grammarian.

Call at General Delivery in the Post Office at La Jolla and El Paso.  I will try to have a note at those two places for you and also in care of Mother at Memphis.  It is nice to get a letter now and then when you are out on a long trip.

I hope Ellen comes through O.K.  I know she really wants one.

Get a box of Mothersill's Sea Sick pills and take them with you for the children.  I feel sure they will prevent car sickness, if you think there is any danger.

I am not too much concerned over what happens to me while over here.  It won't be much longer one way or the other. I have no indigestion, so you know I am not worrying over my job.  The main thing is that I have you to come back to, my darling.

Much love,

Bill

************************

In this letter, Maj. Gillham states that he hopes Ellen comes through okay and that "I know she really wants one."  We can only assume that this refers to Ellen Upshaw and her new baby, as mentioned above, and that she was pregnant with Georgia at the time.

In this letter, Maj. Gillham mentions two products, one of which is still around.  Old Overholt Rye Whiskey is one of the few national brands of rye still available.  However, most Americans are probably more familiar with a famous spoof on the brand made in a 40s-era Warner Brothers cartoon, where a bottle is shown with the label "Old Overcoat."

An Old Overholt label, presumably from the 1960s.

There aren't any Mothersill's pills around any more, though.  The product first appeared in 1926 and was manufactured in New York and Montreal.  It was originally marketed as a seasick pill, but after the wane of steamer travel and the advent of international flights, sales fell off and the brand was pulled for good in 1966.

An undated Mothersill's label touting relief from

"travel sickness" instead of merely seasickness.

Making plans for after the return from Japan

Today's letter again deals primarily with family matters brought up in Frances' letters, and this is the first time he talks in earnest about the family's trip back to Atlanta.  As you will see, it was still very much up in the air as to whether Frances and the children would drive home to Atlanta and then return to California or simply stay in Atlanta.

29 Nov 1945
Tokyo

Dearest Darling,

Yesterday was a beautiful day.  I had an extra day off coming to me so I arranged to take it today and now it is raining steadily.  However, I enjoyed sleeping late.  I finally got up and made me some coffee.  It is a handy thing to have, and I think of you whenever I see my pretty jar and bottle.

Your letter of the 14th came yesterday.  It was written to the old APO and was the one in which you asked me about what I thought about your returning to Calif.  On that question, if you feel like making the trip both ways, it suits me fine, and I think it is a good idea.  Be sure you are rested before you start back.  By going the southern route you can make it easily in the winter.  I mean by Phoenix and El Paso -- not Flagstaff (that is too high.  I had some trouble with ice on the windshield and snow storms coming through there last winter).  As I see it, it would be nice for you to be in Calif when I return next year -- about May, I think.  Then whatever we do from there, we can work it out together.  You won't have to worry of packing and shipping, and if you can help Jack build a house it will do you more good than anything I can think of.  If you do this be sure you have definite plans and agreements with everyone concerned before you leave.  Be sure you can get Jack's little house, pending the completion of the other one.  And it might be a good idea just to have your phone moved over there before you leave and not disconnected.  Then there is no hitch on that.  I think you would make out fine that way.  I don't think you need worry about returning the baby bed to the Presidio until you just want to get rid of it.

After you have been east and returned tell me if you want to go back there to live when I return.  I can try for a job in Calif., but it would be anywhere on the west coast where I could make a living -- not in Robles or La Jolla.

Let me know your plans.  I am with you 100% whatever you do.

Lots of love,

Bill

********************

 

The details of many of the matters discussed in these letters, including the building of Jack's second house, are now lost to the fog of time, but it all serves as an illustration of how difficult it was for a couple to make life's most important decisions while separated by the Pacific Ocean.

Cross-country travel in the 1940s was not for the faint-hearted, but it had improved greatly since the first automobile made the journey in 1913.  The U.S. highway system was designed in 1926 and provided for the creation of several cross-country routes (mainly the routes numbered with multiples of ten).  The famed Route 66 was technically not cross-country since it began in Chicago, but it is the northerly route across the Southwest that Maj. Gillham deemed "too high" in this letter.  The route he suggests was probably U.S. 80, which ran from Savannah, GA, to California via Dallas, El Paso and Phoenix.  Most of the route has since been decomissioned and the route now extends only as far west as Dallas.

In the 1940s, there was not yet the concept of the family cross-country trip that became popular in the 1950s thanks largely to the opening of Disneyland in Anaheim, CA, in 1955.  During wartime, such a trip was fraught with challenges such as rationing of food and gas, lack of lodging, poor roads and no roadside assistance.  My mother tells stories of the four cross-country treks she made in the 1940s, saying that they would routinely begin looking for a hotel around 3pm, since one was never sure how far the next hotel might be.  Toilet breaks were usually just "green stops," as they called them, and my grandfather would seek out country churches for lunch stops, where there were usually outdoor benches and tables.

The details of the family's trip from Robles del Rio to Atlanta are lost now, as Monty and Emily recall very little of it, but one of the things Monty and Emily remember well about the trip was that it was in a blue 1940 Ford and that there was a very unusual seating arrangement. All of their belongings were packed in the trunk as well as the bottom of the back seat area. On top of that they laid a mattress flat along the width of the seat where one of the girls would sit with baby Martha and their dog Flip Flop. In the front seat the other girl would sit between Frances and Frances' father, Daniel Marshall Holsenbeck, who the family called Pop. He lived at 992 Washita Avenue in Atlanta and had flown out to California to accompany the Gillhams on their trip east.

Even though this was no longer the Depression, Frances wanted to make sure that they didn't appear like Okies, so she would straighten the girls' hair and dresses before they would get out at a rest stop or enter a motel.

The other thing that both sisters remember vividly about the trip was how it ended. The last stretch of the trip took them along U.S. 78 heading east into Atlanta (which parallels the current I-20), and they were on course to arrive in Atlanta on Christmas Eve. However, just 60 miles outside of Atlanta in Tallapoosa (just on the Georgia side of the Alabama border), the headlights stopped working. Pop pulled into a filling station to have them checked out and the mechanic on duty informed Pop that he would have to leave the car overnight to be repaired. This news caused the girls great distress, because they were sure that Santa Claus wouldn't know that they were in Tallapoosa and that they wouldn't get their presents. Luckily, there was a man there who was driving into Atlanta that evening, so Pop drove all the way to Atlanta following him very closely and letting him lead the way with his headlights. And sure enough, Santa was able to find the girls and Christmas was saved.