We Remember: Love, Adrian
“I bet Hitler is getting the quivers in his backbone if he has any left. I’d like to get at his mustache with a pair of my tweezers. Would I ever pick souvenirs.”
It goes without saying, I suppose, that somewhere along the way when sorting through the belongings of an aging parent, somebody’s going to stumble onto it.
Tucked away in a closet, or stacked behind the dusty crates in the attic, or even mixed in with bottle caps in an old cigar box in the bottom drawer, there is hidden the prize that no one even knew their parents had.
A few years ago while rearranging some of Lane’s mom’s things, we tripped over the treasure that left us all sprawled out on the floor laughing and weeping and learning and knowing.
We found every letter that Adrian ever sent to Estrid, most of which were written between 1941 and 1946 while he served as an Army Staff Sergeant in World War II.
The letters began arriving in Estrid’s mailbox shortly after the two met at a Lutheran youth convention in 1940. They really didn’t live too far apart, just a little over a hundred miles by car from Strandburg to Claremont. But in the days before highways and when getting a new tire to replace that always flat one took months, they didn’t see one another often even while Adrian remained stateside.
Take away internet, texting, even private phone conversations, and that left two smitten youths to tuck their dreams, thoughts and hearts into envelopes and entrust them to the trains that carried mail to the countryside.
I spent the better part of a year after we found them blanketed in those thousand letters, learning a man I knew all too briefly. I compiled the pages into two volumes, often calling Lane to the computer as I typed through eyes misted blind to share another tattered leaf of this beating heart.
In his eighth-grade educated hand, he revealed himself in sometimes tender, sometimes bold, sometimes comic words to the woman who made him feel like the luckiest and most alive man living.
After Adrian shipped out, the letters continued seemingly without end, back and forth from tiny South Dakota towns where Estrid taught school to “somewhere in France.” The two turned to handing over their soul-words to V-mail and the Army censors.
::
Our community nears completion of a new memorial to honor our local veterans. But it seems the heroes don’t get much more local than a dad and granddad. I thought to honor his memory this Memorial Day with some of his own humble, faithful words.
On love, home and family:
“You ask what I would like for Christmas. I tell you a little box of cookies would be the real thing or some little thing to eat. This is my first Christmas away from home. It’s a lot different than the ones I’m used to.”
“Don’t get me wrong now that I’m homesick. So far I don’t know what that is. We would all like to be home but there is a job to do first.”
“I’m feeling o.k. I always mention this and I’ll always tell you the truth.”
“The night before I was to leave I found him crying alone, in secret. My Dad is a big strong man, ‘He’s my Daddy you know.’”
“I feel like I have a job to do here with the rest of the boys. And then again I’d like to go back home and see Dad and help keep the farm going, which I had a lot of hope in continuing after the war. I hope my prayer that I may see Dad again will be answered. If it is God’s will. Mom and Curt want me to come home. If the Germans would quit I’d surely try and see if I could do something about it.”
“The Telegram of my Dad’s death took 21 days to get to. I never wanted to be home so much in all my life as I do now.”
“I had a letter from Alice today and she had sent a clipping about some Estrid Franzen and a troop of girl scouts.”
“Now the war is over for sure this time they tell me. It’s a beautiful night out. I still wish I was somewhere else.”
“I could see home and we fought all the harder to end it sooner.”
“Sometimes I think I’d like to be a city dude for a while. Maybe after I get home I’ll decide farming is too much like work and start selling prunes and vinegar.”
“It seems so long since I heard from you. These cold blizzard days are so long without mail or anything. Boy how I need to hear from you again!”
“I told Mom about our engagement this morning and she said ‘Well.’ I could tell she was pleased.”
On the war:
“I am ready to go any time my Uncle Sammy calls.”
“The people of England really know what war is. The children 5 and 6 years old have not seen street lights yet.”
“I see some front line action once in a while. All I can say is that at times it is terrifying. I think I prayed almost all nite a while back, even in my sleep.”
“I wonder if Hitler rests well at night. . . . One of these days he may rest in pieces if he don’t hibernate some place where he won’t be found.”
“But the American soldier can really take it. Call it bravery or as we say ‘guts’ when a U.S. soldier was wounded or shot we never heard them cry or groan or yell for help.”
“While I was on my way westward ‘limping’ a French Crouix De Guerre with palm had arrived at home. I don’t see where I deserve it. I guess me and Patton had good press agents.”
“I’ve groaned within myself over one incident. . . . It’s a story I’ll tell every time anyone talks about war as being glorious and being a hero.”
On the Army:
“I made expert at the machine gun today in record fire. I can say I feel a little proud over this. Mostly to think that the folks will be pleased. I drove a tank for the first time yesterday. It sure is fun to sit at the controls of those big babies.”
“We sure are having a stepped up training so maybe we will go over the pond sometime this summer or next fall. We surely are not ready to go yet.”
“This land looks almost worthless to me. I suppose that’s why they have Army camps in places like these.”
“Tomorrow I’ll try to whistle or toot like a train. Then maybe I’ll get a medical discharge for being nuts.”
“Seven days to get the discharge papers ready. It sure did not take them that long to get in the Army. According to hospital records, I’m not here anymore. Where I went nobody knows.”
On his faith:
“They have nicknamed me ‘Reverend.’”
“Love someone even if you don’t like them. . . . They are all my friends. There are some fellows I don’t like. But they don’t know it.
There is a Pentecost . . . also a Seventh Day Adventist. They try to convert me. . . . Better come down here Estrid. It’s two to one and I’m outnumbered and need some help.”
“Rev. Vick was right when he said the greater the danger we are in the closer God is to us. Us boys up here know that very well.”
“The suggestion you made to pray together at nine o’clock every Eve. is a good idea. So at nine tonite we will meet together in prayer.”
“God has a reason for keeping me here. I know I’ve had the experience of a lot of things concerning sin, faith, hope, trust, and surrendering self. These past three years have been hard and I did not realize how much so until recently.”
::
Surely the handwriting was Adrian’s. But so often as I read I heard the voice of another red-headed tenor. Through corny jokes and deep-root faith and tender words flowing from a God-softened heart, I recognized the familiar language of his son, the one I hear echo in the walls of this home every day.
Adrian and his bride taught their men that language of faith and love.
Of the thousand and some letters Estrid carefully returned to their envelopes and secreted away, only one was penned in her elegant hand. While she clearly wrote as often as he, Adrian faced the limitations of austere Army life and could not carry with him what was not necessary for survival and battle.
But one letter he carried. And he came home from war with that one letter: tattered, wrinkled and sweat-smeared. The date was torn off in case he’d be captured. And in that letter he and Estrid shared the bedrock faith that carried them for a lifetime.
“Whatever comes, dear Adrian, don’t ever lose sight of the fact that you are not alone. God is right there with you every minute of the day and He’ll never let go . . .
::
Photos: Top: A thousand and some letters from war Middle right & left: Army microfiched and censored v-mail letters Middle right: A "battle weary" SSgt. Adrian Lindquist Bottom: The letter from Estrid that he carried into battle
That’s so beautiful, thank you for sharing those memories. It’s so reassuring to see that others have held onto their faith through really hard times.
2010/05/31 at 9:21 AM
What a neat tribute to a special man in your family’s life!
2010/05/31 at 9:35 AM
Beautiful!
2010/05/31 at 9:43 AM
This kind of personal archive is priceless – make sure you collate it properly and preserve it. You may well find that a museum or a publisher would be interested in material like this – my husband’s grandfather wrote a personal diary of his time with the Free French in North Africa, and this is now on display at the Imperial War Museum in London.
2010/05/31 at 9:48 AM
Lovely. Just lovely.
2010/05/31 at 9:49 AM
Old letters are so much of an insight in to another world… I am from Germany and had my moment of being appalled and in shock when I have been cleaning out the basement of my older sons father. Tim, my son, is 14. His father 43. I myself 35. Even our parents are all born after the last war in Europe ended.
And still we live with its remains:
I had found a letter from Tims fathers uncle, I do not even know a name for this typ of family-relation in English…and still the letter touched me as if it had been sitting there for years in my own cellar waiting for its discovery…
It was a reply to a fan letter, written by a “Stabschef”, a Hitler-government official to this uncle, who was at the time a little boy and had sent to the Stabschef a childrens-drawing. The official replied to the boys letter kindly:
“Grüße Deinen Bruder und Dein Schwesterchen von mir. Ich hoffe, dass Du später ein ordentlciher SA-Mann wirst”…I hope that you will be later a proper SA man and am sending you, as a thank you for your drawing, you mailed me, the mine.”
I found the attached autograph card, went crying and upset outside to the light of a midsummers day. Coming from a working class left winged family myself, fear and terror had seldom had its grip so tight around my neck and shown its seemingly innocent face grinning so closely.
I should scan this letter and share this emotions. It made me understand a lot and moves me until today.
2010/05/31 at 9:56 AM
That is amazing, really. Seems not every treasure tucked away turns out to be that later on. But speaks volumes for what was so valued at the time…
2010/05/31 at 11:23 AM
Amazing! I love imagining other peoples lives. I would have been in absolute heaven had I found something like this.
2010/05/31 at 10:02 AM
Thanks for sharing !
2010/05/31 at 10:03 AM
Thank you for posting all the pictures and the letter quotes. Such personal insight is rare to find and even more meaningful today.
2010/05/31 at 10:03 AM
Wow. I actually interviewed my grandfather on video for something like this, but wish I had something as real and everlasting as letters. This is a brilliant post and an amazing read. Thank you for sharing it.
http://www.denwrites.com
2010/05/31 at 10:11 AM
Thanks Dennis. We do actually have an audio recording of my husband interviewing his dad for a history project in college. It’s been misplaced, unfortunately, but as soon as I get my hands back on it we’ll convert it to a CD for the family. It’s priceless.
2010/05/31 at 11:27 AM
What an amazing heritage! “Whatever comes, dear Adrian, don’t ever lose sight of the fact that you are not alone. God is right there with you every minute of the day and He’ll never let go . . .” Such encouragement!
2010/05/31 at 10:19 AM
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Thsi is just terrific. Nicely done and thanks for sharing such a tender look at your family.
2010/05/31 at 10:39 AM
Well just so you know, you had me misty-eyed with this post. I found myself glued to your writing from beginning to end. I especially love the last part, “God is right there with you.” I needed to hear that today. Thank you for the story.
Best,
Hannah Katy
2010/05/31 at 10:44 AM
very good.
2010/05/31 at 11:28 AM
I loved this post. Thank you!
2010/05/31 at 11:39 AM
This really is a treasure, and very moving. I’m sniffing and looking up so tears don’t drip onto my keyboard.
It is very humbling to remember what my parents’ generation lived through, and I wish I had done more to express my gratitude.
2010/05/31 at 11:48 AM
Oh Lyla … Thank you for letting that heart beat once again in this place.
This gets me: “The suggestion you made to pray together at nine o’clock every Eve. is a good idea. So at nine tonite we will meet together in prayer.”
And this: “I recognized the familiar language of his son, the one I hear echo in the walls of this home every day.”
OK, now, really all of it gets me. I just got back from a Memorial Day service in a little town in Minnesota. What a perfect way to cap the celebration.
Thank you, Lyla. So glad you’ve been featured on Freshly Pressed. You do our servicemen and women great honor in sharing these words today.
2010/05/31 at 12:27 PM
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Bravo! What a story! Adrian and his bride were true American heroes!
2010/05/31 at 2:05 PM
This is wonderful thing to read on Memorial Day – thank you for sharing it and for reinforcing the understanding that the amazing heroes were, at heart, real men and women going what they saw a just a job; just their duty. Terrific post!
2010/05/31 at 2:09 PM
Beautiful post. I too have discovered my parents in yellowed pages — not always as poignant, alas, but always revelatory. Thank you for opening your tender memories to the rest of us.
2010/05/31 at 2:42 PM
What a beautiful story. I have been trying to share this and no matter how many times I create your URL it doesn’t seem to work. I want my grandchildren to read this.
2010/05/31 at 3:00 PM
Lyla:
Fantastic post. I consider myself fortunate to have known Adrian for a couple of years. More than once I was able to sit down with Adrian and his good friend Charles at the Millstone and share some conversation over a cup of coffee. I’ve also had the opportunity to read some of those letters that you transcribed and organized and the ones you didn’t share (space constraints) are also a good read and reveal so much about the man that Isaac and JP can only know through Lane’s memories and these heart warming letters to their grandmother.
Dad
2010/05/31 at 3:11 PM
Dad, I believe that
SteveMike told me once that they found a similar stash in Charles and Betty’s attic once upon a time. What I wouldn’t give for a peek at that…And the space constraints, oh yeah. I culled the exerpts from the pull-quotes I’d included when I compiled the two volumes. But I could have gone on for pages.
And some of course was just to personal to share with the world, as it seems I’ve rather inadvertently done today.
2010/05/31 at 3:23 PM
One thousand. One thousand!
A life of love in letters.
2010/05/31 at 3:11 PM
Yes, one thousand. Over. Does that simply amaze you? It does me.
2010/05/31 at 3:24 PM
Amazing. Thank you so much for sharing that.
2010/05/31 at 3:13 PM
What beautiful excerpts from such priceless letters. Thank you for sharing them with the rest of us.
2010/05/31 at 3:22 PM
Beautiful inside view of the soldiers we are all so proud of today.
2010/05/31 at 3:50 PM
Wow you have a amazing site! Good job on this!
2010/05/31 at 4:02 PM
Wow. I stumbled across your blog as I was getting ready to update mine, and I was intrigued by it.
Wow. I literally got goosebumps reading it. What an incredible story. Thanks for sharing it.
2010/05/31 at 5:00 PM
I am so moved by his words. Thank you for sharing. Lovely, lovely true story. :hug:
2010/05/31 at 6:37 PM
Thank you so much for sharing this beautiful story.
2010/05/31 at 7:00 PM
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Amazing. I’m sorry you had to loose someone to find such a treasure, but I hope you keep it safe and many others get to hear the amazing story that you shared with us. Your writing and way of telling the story was awesome.
2010/05/31 at 7:55 PM
Thank you for taking the time to share such a moving tribute!
2010/05/31 at 9:25 PM
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Thank you for sharing those wonderful letters. We happened to have the TV tuned to a Memorial Day celebration, so I read the post to the accompaniment of “American the Beautiful.”
2010/05/31 at 9:46 PM
WOW!
2010/05/31 at 10:46 PM
This is absolutely amazing. Thank you for this
2010/05/31 at 11:01 PM
I love this post, dramatic.. I remember my navy friend
2010/05/31 at 11:21 PM
this is lovely. Thank you for posting it.
2010/06/01 at 1:39 AM
i like it…………….
2010/06/01 at 2:05 AM
That is amazing!! I lke really…beautiful.Y can¨not writer inglish very well…ym sorry,bat I can stand you very well….!!! my cantry is Argentina…muchos saludos desde mi pais.
2010/06/01 at 2:52 AM
I always find it fascinating when history knocks at our doors… its like getting a chance to relive someone’s life all over, and get a better insight into who we are now.. and why.
thanks a lot.
2010/06/01 at 3:32 AM
Thank you for sharing this lovely and moving memory with us.
2010/06/01 at 5:51 AM
Wow.. Amazing.. !!!
2010/06/01 at 6:51 AM
my goodness, i can’t even see the computer screen clearly for all of the tears! what a beautiful tribute – thank you SO much for sharing this with us. how i wish i had my papa’s letters to his bride from his time in germany and france during WWII. a housefire claimed these artifcats, and his own life in ’94, but i like to think they shared correspondance similar to adrian and estrid.
2010/06/01 at 8:31 AM
oh my… this is so heartfelt..!!!
2010/06/01 at 8:41 AM
I love diving into my family history… And my father passed away about 3 weeks ago. I’ve found myself learning, discovering and researching all these new stories and facts about my family’s history that was unknown to me before.
Those letters are a great window to the past, and it’s great that you found them and got to relive memories. Great post…great memories..great story.
http://thenoniche.wordpress.com/
2010/06/01 at 11:17 AM
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We’re a die-hard military family, serving our country many generations back. These letters–especially the last–brought tears to my eyes. My grandmother wrote to my grandfather during the war as well. They were married as soon as he came home.
2010/06/01 at 9:22 PM
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Can I add to all of this, and through tears and amazement , say thank you.
2010/06/02 at 8:36 PM
What a wonderful story – thank you for posting it! I found you via Freshly Pressed on WordPress and I’ll be back!
2010/06/03 at 11:55 PM
My grandmother always talked about and treasured the letters my grandfather sent her during his service in World War II. I haven’t thought about those letters in a long time…I wonder where they are now that she is gone.
2010/06/13 at 12:34 PM