Category: 1940s

Murphy Back in the Lines

Third Division Joins Battle at Colmar Pocket

My Mother and Audie Murphy Ch. 49

After weeks in the hospital with a gangrenous hip wound, Murphy returns to the lines in late January 1945—just in time for the brutal fighting around the Colmar Pocket during the coldest winter in fifty years. Snow lies two feet deep, and the cold cuts through even the thickest layers.

Attack plan. The 3rd Division is with the 7th Army under Gen. Patch

By the time he rejoins his unit, the Third Division has pushed through the Vosges, smashed the German winter line, and reached the Rhine at Strasbourg. Germany lies just beyond the river, close enough to see, but still weeks—and many casualties—away from any attempted crossing.

The entire front is restless. To the north, the Battle of the Bulge is sputtering out. American units are crossing into Germany, seeking firm ground for the spring offensive. Columns of men and supplies move constantly across frozen French and Belgian roads. But the men at the front think only of the task immediately ahead: eliminating the Colmar Pocket, a heavily fortified German position stretching toward the Swiss border.

A supply convoy makes it way over a snowy road toward Colmar. Photo dogface soldier

The pocket is a dangerous bridgehead jutting west of the Rhine, fed by steady reinforcements from across the river. It threatens the Allies’ right flank and could serve as a launch point for a massive German counterattack. The Third Division has already trimmed its northern edge and now stands near Guémar, ready to strike at the center.

The terrain favors the Germans. Icy winds sweep down from the Vosges. Forest patches, open fields, and fortified villages form their defense. Tanks hide in the woods, covering the plains the Americans must cross. Temperatures rarely climb above fourteen degrees. Snow reaches to the knees. Even without enemy fire, the nights are a battle simply to avoid freezing.

Soldiers in snow cloaks on the way to Colmar. Photo: dogface soldier

Two rivers, the Fecht and the Ill, lie between the division and the enemy. At night, the 7th and 30th Regiments slip across the Fecht after breaching German lines. The 7th pushes south to strike Ostheim; the 30th clears a forest and captures a small wooden bridge over the Ill. That fragile track becomes the hinge of the entire operation.

The 30th crosses it and prepares to attack two small villages, Holtzwihr and Riedwihr, separated by a stretch of woodland. At 4:30 in the afternoon, disaster strikes: ten German tanks and tank destroyers smash into the 3rd Battalion near Holtzwihr. The infantry have no protection. The frozen ground is too hard to dig into. The tanks break the battalion into pockets and rake them with machine-gun fire.

Training for warfare in the snow. Photo: dogface soldier collection

An hour later, the 1st Battalion is hit near Riedwihr and torn apart in the same way. Survivors retreat toward the Ill, some swimming through the icy water, emerging with their uniforms stiff with icicles.

Murphy’s regiment, held in reserve, is rushed forward. At 3 a.m., the 3rd Battalion attempts to establish a bridgehead across the Ill. It gains ground until a counterattack with four German tanks drives it back to the river.

A grave registration unit operates 10 miles north of Colmar. Photo: dogface soldier collection

It becomes clear that without tanks of their own, the infantry are battering themselves against a stone wall. Still, the attacks must continue—the Germans cannot be allowed to maneuver freely or shift their strength. If given the chance, they could destroy the Allied forces piecemeal.

Behind the lines, engineers work frantically to build a bridge across the Ill. Murphy and the men of his regiment fight simply to hold the enemy back long enough for that bridge to be completed.

Ch. 50: https://mollymartin.blog/2025/08/24/sainte-marie-aux-mines/

To return to Chapter 1: https://mollymartin.blog/2024/11/04/my-mother-and-audie-murphy/

Strasbourg Xmas Party and Tea

Allies Celebrate Before Plunging Back into War

My Mother and Audie Murphy Ch. 47

Strasbourg, France was liberated by the French 2nd Armored Division supported by the U.S. 7th Army on November 23, 1944, during the Alsace campaign, ending the city’s occupation by the Nazis. 

Flo devoted a page in her album to a party and a “tea for the French” in Strasbourg. There was a little time for celebrating before all had to return to the continuing war.

The page from Flo’s album

On the back of a rare picture of the whole clubmobile crew, Flo indentified the ARC clubmobilers and the generals on either side. I could see that she spelled Fritzie’s last name Haugland, so that is likely correct. In the picture are Fritzie, Janet, Liz and Flo with Gen. Schwartz, commander of the 10th French military district and acting commanding Gen. Robert Young.

Gen. Schwartz, Fritzie, Janet, Liz and Flo and Gen. Robert Young at a tea for the French

The ARC clubmobilers 1944 Xmas card, made by Liz, is pasted on this page. Cleverly folded, its message reads: We can’t do this (hand out Xmas stockings to boys in foxholes as bombs blast) nor this (offer permanent passes to the USA) but we do wish you a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. Janet – Fritzie – Flo – Liz ARC.

ARC Xmas card made by Liz

The envelope contains a hand-written thank you letter from Gen. Iron Mike O’Daniel.

There’s also a picture of what looks like a nice party with wine and canapes. Are those pointed hats on the table? This might be a New Years party. Flo captioned it Strasbourg Dec. ’44. Her date for this evening was Lt. Col. John Heintges, who was romancing her just then.

Flo partying with Lt. Col. Heintger. On the right is Major Wallace

Flo saved two letters from him, written in December 1944, that show he definitely had a thing for her. And it seems like the thing was mutual, at least for a while, as she was writing to him too. 

He wrote: “Anyone who writes as beautiful, sentimental and sensible as you is truly a lovely person. I enjoyed your little card very much and I must admit Flossie that more than once since I last saw you have I thought of you.”

In the next letter he addressed a bit of rivalry.

“Hello Flossie! I understand you did me dirt n’est ce-pas? I thought we were going to Paris together. I guess why not after the rough treatment I imposed on you.” 

I can’t imagine what this means but it might be the reason Flo decided to move on. 

He continued, “The fact that Chris Chaney went at the same time sort of makes me a little envious but then he’s not your type anyway—or am I wrong. No Flo I am not really jealous because in the first place I have no right to be and in the second I know where your duty lies.…. I guess I am not the number one man I thought I was.

His first letter is signed, “Sincerely, John”. The second ends with “Be good my little angel”.

The officers were fighting over her and that must have felt good. He is right that she chose Chris Chaney, although Chaney wasn’t able to get leave to join Flo in Paris. It seems like Flo went to Paris as often as she could.

By April, Lt. Col. Chaney was addressing Flo as darling:

1 April 45

Hello, Flo, darling,

I am sitting here peacefully in a beautiful CP drinking some captured German cognac, and thinking how nice it would be if you were to walk in, to serve donuts, of course. Oh well, can’t have everything I guess.

Really enjoyed your letter from Paris and wherever you were when you finished it. Wish I could have been there with you, and we really would have seen the town. I think your idea of seeing England is swell, together I mean.

I saw my close friend, Col. Heintgas, the other day, after I had taken one of his towns for him for which he thanked me, anyway, and asked him if he was getting any letters from my girl, and he said “Yes, lots,” So he gave me a drink of good whiskey!

Lots of love, CW Chaney

Tucked in the back of Flo’s album along with a lot of post-war ephemera was a newspaper clipping from 1965—a picture of Heintger, now a general, welcoming troops arriving at Pleiku, South Vietnam.

There’s no way to know why she broke up with Heintges (I found different spellings of his name, but this is from his Wikipedia page. Chaney mocked him with the spelling Heintgas), but perhaps the life of an army wife just didn’t appeal to Flo.

Ch. 48: https://mollymartin.blog/2025/08/20/murphy-back-in-the-lines/

Flo, Janet Jump from Exploding Jeep

1500 Donuts Burn, but Clubmobilers Not Hurt

My Mother and Audie Murphy Ch. 46

Newspaper clipping posted in Flo’s album

WITH THE 7TH ARMY, FRANCE—

“Total damage: one volkswagon and 1500 donuts,” so read unit B’s report of accident. Back of the simple statement, however, was more than meets the eye.

Sent to serve an artillery unit of the infantry division to which they are attached, Florence Wick and Janet Potts took off for the assignment in their captured German jeep or volkswagon.

Liz and Flo with the captured VW jeep. Later it became The Thing

Down the road they went, bounding happily along in the mud. The car ran smoothly while the girls served their coffee and then things began to happen.

“After covering part of the battalion,” Miss Wick reports, “our car caught on fire from a short in the wiring system, and a few minutes after we had gone out the only door in front that worked, the gas tank exploded and threw gasoline across the highway and held up traffic for several minutes.”

Nothing daunted, the girls thumbed a ride back to their donut shop, a little shaky, then started out again with more donuts and covered the balance of their day’s assignment.

After the war, Flo still drove Volkswagens

Flo developed a hatred for Germans; they killed her fiancé and many of her friends. But she wasn’t one of those war survivors who refused to drive German-made cars after the war. She hated krauts, but she loved their cars.

At the start of their service the clubmobilers were told they would be issued a 2 ½ ton truck retrofitted with a kitchen and equipment for making coffee and donuts. But they travelled through Italy and France before they finally got their truck in Germany. Until then the women had to scrounge vehicles in which to carry their donuts to the troops. They used any vehicle they could get their hands on; for a while it was a recommissioned ambulance. Later they used a captured German Volkswagen. It seems this was not the vehicle that blew up. Flo notes that they left the Volks behind when they crossed the Rhine into Germany.

Flo sent the photo to Wagen Wheels, the Volkswagen magazine, in 1973. She wrote to them:

“Leaning on their ‘donut delivery wagon’ are Liz Elliott of Manhattan, New York, and Flo Wick of Yakima, Washington, donut gals with the American Red Cross in World War II. They were attached to the famed Third Infantry Division which left from home base at Fort Lewis, Washington in 1942 for North Africa, thence to Sicily, Anzio, Rome, France and Germany, ending the war in Salzburg, Austria in 1945 and with more Congressional Medals of Honor than any other unit in World War II (a majority posthumous). Most famous Congressional Medal holder, Audie Murphy, later made his movie, “To Hell and Back” in the Yakima area.

“Their vehicle is an original People’s car (Volkswagen) which the German people bought, contributed to the Fatherland for the war with the promise that after the war (and victory, of course), their car would be returned to them.

“Fortunately, the American and British armies were able to spoil their plans and when this particular VW “German jeep” was captured in France in 1944 it was presented to the 3rd Division’s four Red Cross girls who converted it into a donut wagon in which they delivered Red Cross donuts to units of the combat division in all the best mountains and fields of France. Later, after crossing the Rhine into Germany and leaving the Volks behind, they had a more military vehicle in which to deliver donuts—a 2 ½ ton clubmobile truck.

“Flo Wick, Red Cross Clubmobile Captain, from Yakima, Washington is now Mrs. Carroll Martin of that city—mother of a daughter and three sons—daughter and eldest son college students. She is the happy owner of a VW Squareback in which she commutes from her home in Yakima’s West Valley to her office in Selah, some 15 miles, every day. There are two other VWs in the Martin family—one, another Squareback, used by the 19-year-old son, and the other, a red Beetle, operated by the youngest son, a junior in high school. None of these, however, can match the ugly little original for stamina and glamor. After all, not many VWs have “fought” on both sides of World War II!”

In 1944, while in France, the Third Division “liberated” one of the Wermacht’s famous Kubelwagens. A second incarnation was called The Thing.

Flo’s story was published in the 1973 Wagen Wheels magazine.

Ch 47: https://mollymartin.blog/2025/08/24/sainte-marie-aux-mines/

A Cold Rainy November

Third Infantry Division in the Vosges Mountains

My Mother and Audie Murphy Ch. 45

Beachhead News November 11, 1944

Flo had written her mother after Gene’s death that she planned to go to Paris to visit her sister Eve who worked as an Army nurse in a hospital there. She may have done so but there is no record of it in her diary or album. Her final three diary entries note that she attended a dance in Epinal on Nov. 1. Then she visited with boys from Gene’s company Nov. 11 and 12. If she traveled to Paris in the meantime, it can’t have been a happy trip, but she would have been glad for comfort from Eve and her ARC friend Janet Tyson, who traveled with her.

The last three entries in Flo’s diary

November 1944 in the Vosges mountains was cold and rainy, presaging a bad winter. In a letter to her mother published in her hometown paper, Flo celebrated the dogface soldiers and chastised Americans and the media in the States for thinking the war was near its end.

Florence Wick Writes

Miss Florence Wick, who is with the American Red Cross in France, writes to her mother:

“Things have slowed down considerably now though, and the boys are having a tough fight. The weather is cold here, and winter looks discouraging in that respect. It rains a lot, which makes it miserable, but we get used to it, and to wading in mud. Every once in a while the sun will come out, and that’s wonderful. 

We are up quite far and are serving doughnuts every day, and keeping very busy. It is hard to see these boys come out of the lines dirty, cold, tired and old, but we do have a chance to spread a little cheer before they have to go back again. God bless the ‘dog faces’. They are winning this war mile by mile, and dying too. There is none like them. They are so sick of it all, but they are good soldiers, and everyone at home should appreciate what they are doing and pray for them all daily. They have a very hard fight ahead of them, and in winter, that’s tough. 

People at home shouldn’t take the papers too literally–the war is definitely not over yet, and they had better carry on as they have been doing and not relax any effort. I wish they could see their own boys for just one day during combat, or eat the C ration these kids eat, and they wouldn’t talk of an early end to the war.”

Liz Elliott’s drawing illustrates a typical challenge for the clubmobile workers

Ch. 46: https://mollymartin.blog/2025/08/12/flo-janet-jump-from-exploding-jeep/

Born in Oregon, Buried in France

Remembering Eugene Gustafson

My Mother and Audie Murphy Ch. 44

To return to the start of this series, My Mother and Audie Murphy: https://mollymartin.blog/2024/11/04/my-mother-and-audie-murphy/

Even as soldiers were dying all around them, the death of Flo’s fiancé, Gene, on October 28, 1944, came as a horrific shock. In a letter to her mother, Flo wished she could just go home. But she wasn’t a quitter, and she even stayed in Europe through the post-war occupation, returning to the U.S. in March, 1946, nearly a year after the war’s end.

Back home, making her album, she devoted a page to Gene with the obituary from his hometown newspaper, and the poem by Archibald MacLeish, The Young Dead Soldiers. He was buried in a military cemetery in Epinal, France.

A page in Flo’s album

Reading Gene’s obituary gave me a fuller picture of the man. I learned some things:

He was born in a “camp” in Oregon in 1920—probably a lumber camp. 

He had one brother serving in the Navy and four sisters back home. He was a jock, sure—but also the editor of his high school newspaper in Clatskanie, Oregon. 

Before the Army, Gene had been a union electrician with the Bonneville Power Administration–a working class guy. 

His military training was intense—taking him from Washington to Virginia, then on to Massachusetts, North Carolina, and back to Virginia again. He enlisted in October 1941 and was sent overseas in November 1942. A year of preparation for a war he would not return from.

I learned he was wounded during the Sicilian invasion and awarded a Purple Heart, and that official news of his death didn’t reach his family until two weeks later. 

Learning these things made Gene feel more real to me—not just as a name in someone else’s story, or a loss recorded in a diary, but as a whole person with a life that mattered. I wish I could’ve met him. In some small way, reading his obituary felt like I did.

Gene’s obituary published in his hometown paper

Local Captain Killed in Action

Eugene Gustafson Killed in France October 28, Says Telegram

“Eugene Gustafson killed in action in France 28 October 1944,” was the contents of a telegram received on November 13th by Mr. and Mrs. Broer Gustafson, concerning their eldest son, who was a captain in the United States army.

Sympathy was extended to the bereaved family over their loss and the toll of the war again strikes in this locality.

Eugene Royal Gustafson was born on March 15, 1920 at Benson Camp located at Firwood. He attended the local schools and graduated from Clatskanie high school with the class of 1938. He took an active part in the activities of the school, playing on the football, basketball and baseball teams of the school. He served on the student council and was editor of the Clatskanie Hi-Lites during his junior year and editor of the annual when a senior.

Entered service in October ‘41

Eugene went into the service on October 7th, 1941 when he reported at Fort Lewis (WA). After three weeks there he went to Fort Belvoir VA. He became a corporal in December and went to cadet school where he was commissioned as 2ndlieutenant on June 24th 1942. He was with the 36th Engineers. After short stays in camp Edwards MA, Fort Bragg NC and Camp Bradford, he was sent to Camp Pickett VA where he was for a few weeks and where he became 1st lieutenant a short while before going overseas in early November 1942. He had been over for two years….

Captain Gustafson received that commission in August at the time of the southern France invasion. He had been commanding officer of his company for 11 months in combat. He took part in the invasion of Casablanca, all the African campaign and was awarded the Purple Heart about one year ago when he was wounded in the Sicilian invasion. He was sent back to Africa and later went to southern France on D-Day in that area. He had been in combat constantly since landing in France, his letter stated.

A letter received from a Red Cross worker that followed his outfit told his parents how well liked Eugene was as commander of his company.

Much could be told of his activities at the war front from his letters and clippings sent home.

He joined the Veterans of Foreign Wars in Italy. He was a member of the electrical union which he joined while working for Bonneville before going into the service.

Among the relatives and a host of friends who grieve at the passing of his promising young man are his parents, four sisters, and one brother, Russell with the Navy at Pearl Harbor. His grandmother, Mrs. Selma Zimmerdahl also lives in Clatskanie.

Of course the “Red Cross worker that followed his outfit” referenced in the obit must have been Flo. I wonder how she felt about being described that way.

Gene’s regimental patch. The seahorse is a nod to their training in amphibious assault and support operations. The red and white colors of the shield represent the Corps of Engineer regimental colors. 


Ch. 45: https://mollymartin.blog/2025/08/06/a-cold-rainy-november/

Black Women to the Rescue

The 6888th Battalion cleaned up the mail mess

My Mother and Audie Murphy Ch. 43

In October 1944, after her fiancé Gene was killed, Flo had trouble reaching her mother. The wartime mail system was broken.

This wasn’t just a personal problem—it was widespread. Soldiers on the battlefield were not receiving letters and packages from home. Mail, the lifeline of morale, was piling up undelivered. The men risking their lives for democracy weren’t hearing from their families, and the silence was taking a serious toll.

Flo had noticed the problem early. In letters and diary entries beginning in May 1944, shortly after arriving in Italy, she often mentioned that no mail had come. She didn’t complain—Flo wasn’t a complainer—but she noted it again and again. Others were more vocal. Across the war front, soldiers and Red Cross workers alike were frustrated and bitter. What began as a logistical issue had grown into a morale crisis.

The Army didn’t officially acknowledge the scale of the problem until 1945—by then, millions of letters and packages were sitting in European warehouses, unopened and unsorted.

Then came the 6888th.

Major Charity E. Adams and Captain Mary Kearney inspect members of the 6888th Central Postal Directory Battalion in England on February 15, 1945. Photo: National Archives

The 6888th Central Postal Directory Battalion—known as the “Six Triple Eight”—was a groundbreaking, all-Black, multi-ethnic unit of the Women’s Army Corps (WAC), led by Major Charity Adams. It was the only Black WAC unit to serve overseas during the war.

Their mission: clear the massive backlog of undelivered mail under grueling conditions and extreme time pressure. They worked in unheated warehouses, with rats nesting among the mailbags, and under constant scrutiny from a military establishment rife with racism and sexism. But they got the job done—sorting and forwarding millions of pieces of mail in record time.

Their work restored something vital: connection. And morale.

The 6888th wouldn’t have existed without the efforts of civil rights leaders. In 1944, Mary McLeod Bethune lobbied First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt to support the deployment of Black women in meaningful overseas roles. Black newspapers across the country demanded that these women be given real responsibility and not sidelined. Eventually, the Army relented.

The women of the 6888th made their mark. Many would later say they were treated with more dignity by Europeans than they had ever experienced in the United States.

If you haven’t seen the Netflix movie The Six Triple Eight, it’s well worth your time.

Back in October 1944, the broken mail system meant heartbreak and silence for Flo. How long did it take for her disconsolate letter to reach her mother? Gerda telegrammed back on November 14—more than two weeks after Gene had died.

Gerda’s radiogram was sent November 14, likely just after she received Flo’s letter.

When did Flo receive Gene’s final letters? She saved the ones he wrote on October 24 and 27, but it seems likely she didn’t get them until after he was gone. He died on October 28, killed by a mortar shell. That same day, Flo wrote in her diary, “Mail from home today.” She didn’t mention anything from Gene.

In his last letters, Gene wrote about his army buddies. He worried about his little sister wanting to marry. He dreamed of peace, and of a life with Flo in the Northwest:

“Back there where the country is rugged and beautiful. Where you can breathe fresh, free air; and fish and hunt to your heart’s content. You know honey, a place where we don’t have to sleep in the mud and cold, and where the shrapnel doesn’t buzz around your ears playing the Purple Heart Blues.”

Even in the chaos of war, he tried to stay lighthearted:

“I’m writing on my knees with a candle supplying the light. I hope you are able to read it. My spelling isn’t improving very much; but with the aid of a dictionary I may improve or at least make my writing legible.”

He hoped Flo had managed a trip to Paris, and that she’d seen her sister and brother-in-law stationed there. He looked forward to getting married:

“Honey I haven’t heard from home on the ring situation yet, but I expect to before long. When I do, I shall let you know right away. I’m hoping we can make it so by xmas, if not before.”

But his letters also reflected the danger he was in:

“It’s very difficult to write a letter on one’s knees, as you probably already know. Ducking shrapnel and trying to write just don’t mix. I do manage to wash and brush my teeth most every day.”

“It’s too ‘hot’ for you to be here. I’ve got some real stories to tell you when I see you next—if I’m not too exhausted. You don’t know how close you’ve been to—I hadn’t better tell you.”

Gene’s voice comes through with vivid clarity, even across 80 years and a broken mail system. 

Gene’s letter was posted the day he was killed

That words eventually reached soldiers in the field and their families back home is thanks, in part, to the quiet heroism of the 6888th—who made sure love letters, grief, and hope could still find their way through a war.

Ch. 44: https://mollymartin.blog/2025/08/02/born-in-oregon-buried-in-france/

He Was So Fine

Flo’s fiancé Gene is killed in action

My Mother and Audie Murphy Ch. 42

I’m finding it so very difficult to tell this story. Thinking about war all the time takes a toll on the psyche.

This morning, before sitting down to write, I went to a protest at the local veterans clinic. We were there to demand an end to cuts to the Veterans Administration. Many of the protesters—like the woman who organized it—are vets themselves. There’s always music at these gatherings: sometimes a live band called Good Trouble, sometimes just a boombox. I usually love to dance, to sing along. But lately, the old anti-war songs catch in my throat.

I’m gonna lay down my sword and shield,
Down by the riverside.
I ain’t gonna study war no more.

War! What is it good for? Absolutely nothing.

John Lennon singing Give Peace a Chance.

They all make me cry now, and when you’re crying, it’s hard to sing. We’ve been singing these songs for so damn long. All my adult life, since I was a college student protesting the Vietnam War in the 1960s. Flo protested with me. She was a patriot, but her time in Europe changed her. The war turned her against war.

Flo’s Diary Tells the Story

Flo and her crew had just returned from a brief trip to Paris before getting back to work, serving donuts in remote villages. Still hoping to see her fiancé Gene, Flo went to the Third Battalion headquarters. There, a major gave her the news: Gene had been killed by a mortar shell.

“Dear God!” she wrote in her diary.

Those were among the last words she wrote in it. Except for a few brief notes, the rest of her wartime diary is blank. From here on, I have only the letters she saved, and newspaper clippings pasted into her album, to help me tell the rest of her story.

My grandmother, Gerda, saved the letter Flo wrote to her.

Sun. nite Oct. 29

Dearest Mom–

I need you so! I just learned that Gene was killed yesterday at the front–in fact, I was at his battalion headquarters, a short distance back, this afternoon and the major broke the news to me. I can’t believe it; I just saw him a few days ago–before we left for Paris–and everything seemed wonderful. He was hit by a mortar shell and died very quickly. Oh, Mom, I loved him so much–he was so wonderful to me–and so attractive and fine. He was his mother’s favorite and the family “mainstay”–it will break her heart–and mine too. Right now I want to come home and see you–that would help. I had so much faith that this time, things would work out and I am so sure he was the “right” person. I’ve prayed for him and his safety, but war is such an evil thing, prayers don’t help much, I’m afraid.

I’m trying very hard to believe in all the things you taught me, but it certainly is hard. Perhaps now I realize, a little, how you felt when Daddy died, though it isn’t quite the same. Gene had sent home for rings for me and wanted so much to get married and have children–like all these men over here who are fighting and dying every day.

I wish there were a church to go to around here–it would help me, I think. Funny how that is what you need when these things happen. Everything is blank and black ahead right now and the shock has been terrific. Of course it will wear off and I will accept it, but it is very, very hard. I didn’t realize how much he meant until I heard the tragic news, but I am glad we had so many good times and that I made him happy for a few months. You would have loved him, Mom; he was so big and handsome and good to everyone. His boys are heartbroken–the whole battalion was shocked. I have so many friends among the 36th engineers and they are wonderful to me. It doesn’t bring Gene back, tho, and I can’t feel much of anything.

I may go up and see Eve again for a few days; it will help to see her–she was so nice to us girls when we were there.

Am glad you finally got my letters, Mom; it was worrying me that you didn’t hear, but mail service has been perfectly terrible. I hope they all catch up with you soon. Can’t write anymore right now. I’ll try to be brave. Pray for me, Mom. 

Love, Florence

Mon. A.M. Forgot to tell you in the excitement that I ran into Janet Tyson in Paris! She drove back with us and we took her to her husband’s camp–his division is right with ours. She dropped by this morning and talked me into going back to Paris for a few days to be with her and Eve. I don’t know what is best, but I’m on my way there and may feel better.

I read the second chapter of Timothy and thought of Gene where it says “I have fought the good fight”–he certainly did! I am trying to draw on those “inner resources” but it is so hard and I shall miss him so much. Write me. 

All my love, Florence

Susan Jenson remembered her mother Janet saying, “Flo, like the rest of them, suffered loss. So sad to finally find Gene—only to lose him.”

Ch. 43: https://mollymartin.blog/2025/07/27/black-women-save-the-us-army/

The Clubmobile Crew Goes to Paris

We ponder the purpose of the trip

My Mother and Audie Murphy Ch. 41

Paris—cultural capital of the world—was a dream destination, even in wartime. Everyone in Flo’s Red Cross crew wanted to see it. They’d heard about the food, the fashion, the grandeur. Who wouldn’t want a taste of it, especially after months of mud, cold, and war?

Liz Elliott’s drawing

In October 1944, Flo and her crew made the trip. It’s unclear why they chose to go just then—or why they stayed only two days—but they made the harrowing drive from the Vosges. Though the route avoided the front lines, it was still far from safe.

According to Flo’s diary, they left at 6 a.m. and got a flat tire in Épinal. Luckily, the 77th Ordnance gave them a new tire—and breakfast. “Trip long, but successful,” she wrote. Successful how? I can’t help but wonder if this was the trip my cousin later referred to—when Flo supposedly went to Paris for an abortion.

The group’s main stop was the 203rd Army Hospital, about 15 miles outside the city, where Flo’s sister Eve was working as a nurse. Flo noted that they found the hospital easily and spent the night there. Eve, on night duty, didn’t appear until around 7 p.m.

Flo’s diary

The next day, they went into Paris. “Simply wonderful,” Flo wrote. “Shopped for 2 hours. Things nice but expensive.” She also had a perm done “on post—very good.” But I wonder—was that all she had done that day?

After my mother died, I asked her sister Eve about the abortion story. Eve said she didn’t know anything about it. But she recalled that Flo once told her she’d miscarried while lifting heavy equipment. The original story came from their other sister, Ruth—who, according to her daughter, had been sworn to secrecy. It’s possible Flo never told Eve, perhaps fearing she couldn’t keep the secret.

Still, from the diary it seems Flo and Eve spent most of that day together, which makes it hard to imagine that Flo had a medical procedure without Eve noticing. That night, she wrote, “Eve and I very sleepy. To bed at 1 a.m.”

The following afternoon, Flo returned to the city with “gals and nurses.” They shopped again, bought gifts, and enjoyed themselves. “Leaving in am. Hate to,” she wrote.

She also noted, “Bob not back from England.” That was Eve’s husband, also in the military.

Flo did return to Paris later, so perhaps the abortion took place on a different trip. Maybe this one really was just for sightseeing, shopping, and a little time with her sister. Or maybe it was something more—something she chose never to write down.

Ch. 42: https://mollymartin.blog/2025/07/24/he-was-so-fine/

To go back to Ch. 1: https://mollymartin.blog/2024/11/04/my-mother-and-audie-murphy/

Two New Women Join the Clubmobile Crew: Janet Potts and Fritzie Hoglund

My Mother and Audie Murphy Ch. 40

October, 1944. The four-woman crew gets to work, Flo sees Gene before his company goes in the lines, clubmobilers get up near the front lines and they move to a new camp.

Flo’s diary (pinch out to read)

A note here about the challenge of research: In 1973, a fire at the National Personnel Records Center (NPRC) destroyed 16-18 million official military personnel files. Among them were the archived records of the Clubmobile program, making modern-day research into these women’s service difficult.

From Flo’s album

One helpful resource is The Clubmobile—The ARC in the Storm: A Personal History of and by the Clubmobilers in the European Theater of War During WWII, compiled by Marjorie Lee Morgan. The book includes interviews, diary entries, and photographs. But it focuses solely on the European Theater and omits those who served in the North African and Italian Theaters—even though many of those women, like my mother, also served in France, Germany, and Austria. And these women were the first to enter France and Europe. The book even includes a list of clubmobilers, but no names from the North African/Italian Theater appear, except Forence Wick on the inactive list.

With help from my brother Don, I was able to find some information on Janet Potts and even contacted her daughter. But so far, we’ve found nothing definitive about Fritzie Hoglund (or possibly Hoagland). A newspaper clipping pasted into Flo’s album says Fritzie was from Berkeley, California.

Janet Jenson (née Potts)


Born in New Rochelle, New York, Janet graduated from the Brearley School, attended Barnard and Columbia, and joined the Red Cross in 1944. An accomplished equestrian, she rode in a Third Division “rodeo” at the end of the war.

Janet was one of eight sisters—three of whom served in the Red Cross during the war. Janet was the only one who went to Europe, while the two others served in the South Pacific.

She married Lloyd Jenson in 1946 and had two daughters. Her daughter Susan Jenson told me that Janet often spoke of Flo and that her mother also made a wartime album, which she plans to go through. 

Janet’s daughter wrote, “I personally think there’s far too much focus on donuts in the way the clubmobilers’ work is remembered. These women were brave and generous souls who took on a difficult and emotionally demanding role, offering comfort to exhausted and traumatized troops. As my mother often said, the French sometimes mistook them for camp followers—a euphemism for prostitutes. They had no idea what these women were really doing. But for many soldiers, these were the last warm smiles they ever saw.

“Janet always had kind things to say about Flo. I can imagine the two of them together in a jeep, laughing. It was an adventure—but also full of heartbreak.”

Janet died in 2011, in Denver at age 96.

Liz, Flo, Fritzie and Janet (in clubmobile)

The new four-woman crew slept in the clubmobile. Flo wrote in her diary, “It was fun, but very crowded.” Later, they were issued a tent and new cots.

At one point, Flo’s fiance Gene came down from Docelles and surprised her. “Went out to a movie with him,” she wrote. She saw him again on October 19. Then on October 20: “Last night with Gene—co. going in lines. Sat in front of fireplace at Docelles.” The next day in a free afternoon, she drove back to Docelles maybe with the hope of seeing him one last time. She wrote: “Gene gone. Spent night at ‘home.’”

The following morning, Flo and the crew spent hours loading and moving supplies—the clubmobile was relocating to an area near Épinal.

Ch. 41: https://mollymartin.blog/2025/07/20/the-clubmobile-crew-goes-to-paris/

Flo and Gene Permitted to Marry

Murphy gets hit, Flo takes a break

My Mother and Audie Murphy Ch. 39

October 1944. Flo’s diary is blank from October 2 to October 7, 1944. There’s no way to know what happened during that time, but there are clues. My cousin told me that at some point during the war Flo went to Paris for an abortion. I wrote about it here:  https://mollymartin.blog/2022/04/16/solving-a-wwii-era-mystery/. The city had been liberated in late August and it would have been possible for Flo to travel there and back in five days. Flo stayed in touch with her sister, Eve, who was serving as an Army nurse in a Paris hospital. Eve told me that Flo had also suffered a miscarriage while hauling heavy equipment. Flo never wrote about any of it in her diary, and she never spoke of it later. But whatever happened during that week, it was serious enough to stop her from writing altogether.

Flo’s diary (pinch out to read)

By October 8, Flo and Liz were back in action, serving hundreds of donuts to American troops every day. They had moved from Remiremont to nearby Saint-Nabord, a grim, war-torn area where they now lived in their clubmobile. One day they drove to Luxeuil for photos. Another day they served the replacement depot while a military band played. And then they bounced across a pontoon bridge into Saint-Amé, until their battered old sedan gave out. The clutch snapped halfway over the bridge and couldn’t be repaired. 

During this time, they served the 15th Infantry—Audie Murphy’s unit—a couple of times. The men were quiet, polite, exhausted. After some hard battles, the 15th was finally getting a little rest. But Murphy was not among them. He had been wounded in the fight for Cleurie Quarry. At the aid station, he learned that nearly his whole platoon had been wiped out the night before. Because of the rain and mud, the wounded men could not be evacuated for three days. At the hospital Murphy learned gangrene had resulted. He would be out of commission until January.

In breaks from battle, the army handed out medals. The Third Division took home more than any other. This would be Murphy’s third purple heart.

Flo was able to see her fiancé Gene occasionally, as his unit, the 36th combat engineers, was stationed nearby. They met for church, a dance and meals at his camp. They planned to marry by Christmas and he had ordered rings for them.

Form letter asking for permission to marry

On October 1, Flo sent a formal request to William Stevenson at Red Cross headquarters for permission to marry Gene. The form letter says,

“If permission is granted, it will be predicated on the sole understanding that it will in no way interfere with my responsibilities to Red Cross and that I will carry on my obligation to the organization. I shall gladly carry out my duties wherever the organization may ask me to serve and I will not request transfers within the theater or elsewhere because of my desire to be with or near Capt. Gustafson.” 

In her accompanying letter, Flo had again managed to put her writing skill into practice. Whatever she wrote convinced the ARC. She received permission to marry in a warm letter from Eleanor “Elly” Parker, Director of Staff Welfare, dated October 23.

She wrote, “Thanks very much for your nice letter and I feel much more comfy issuing your marriage approval after having your explanation of exactly what is happening….You sound well surrounded by friends and family in France and I am glad you enjoy being there….I imagine that you are terribly busy and very hard at work under pretty trying cricumstances….

Permission granted and our shoes are boring (sorry)

Apparently Flo also had asked about getting some shoes after her nice shoes were stolen in Italy. But Elly Parker wrote that all they have at the PX are “regular black Red Cross shoes.” Not exactly what Flo, a lifelong shoe queen, had in mind.

On October 12, German planes flew overhead. Everyone looked up at the roar, held their breath as the anti-aircraft fire opened up—and missed. 

Ch. 40: https://mollymartin.blog/2025/07/17/two-new-women-join-the-clubmobile-crew-janet-potts-and-fritzie-hoglund/