Category: Clubmobile

Catching Up to the 3rd Division

Flo and Liz Get Too Close to the Front Lines

My Mother and Audie Murphy Ch. 32

The war was moving north fast, and the Red Cross personnel had to move fast to catch up. Isabella and Dottie had stayed in Marseilles, so Flo and Liz were on their own. They snagged a car, driving from Aix-en-Provence to Grenoble, and on to the QM area near Quingey, just south of the town of Besançon. Flo wrote, “Should not have come up, but Bill let us stay.” 

I think she is saying they are too close to the front lines. Bill is probably Bill Shay, whose photo is pasted in the album titled Bill Shay ARC, maybe their boss. In letters and interviews, the clubmobilers complained that their ARC bosses were of little help. The women were generally tasked with figuring things out on their own.

Bill Shay ARC

Flo also noted, “Moved same evening to area beyond town. Liz and Bill came late, so slept in Major Goodwin’s bedroll.”

That might be the theme of Liz’s drawing.

Liz’s drawings of clubmobile life are pasted throughout Flo’s album

The next day, Sept. 10, Flo wrote, “Shopped in Quingey for pans to cook for boys. Saw 36th Div. gals. Slept under trailer tarp. Very comfortable. Cooked for donut crew.”

On Monday, Sept. 11 she wrote: “Moved near Besancon. Put up pyramidal tent (full of holes). Saw Frank Gates.”

(Gates is the ARC man who took them to Rome on the amphib jeep June 5. That seems to long ago!)

“(Gates) didn’t like our being around. Liz and I spent night under tarp with (donut making) machines. Made hot choc. For us all.

Flo’s diary

Sept. 12, Flo wrote, “Slept in tent on our German stretchers. Ord. gave us two cars—sedan & Ger. Jeep. Saw 36th E in town…” She doesn’t mention that she saw her fiance, Gene, who was with the 36th Engineers.

Sept. 13. Raining. “Spent wet night. Had fried chicken. Very good. Liz is KP & Flo is mess sgt.”

Sept. 14. “Frank Gates says Maj. Basilla wants us to get out, so we moved up to 6th Corps artillery unit.”

It seems like this means that Major Basilla was kicking them out of the Third Division. Some of the commanding officers were opposed to having the clubmobilers near the army. Gen. Mark Clark had been their advocate and protector in the beginning, but he was no longer there.

She wrote: “Spent night in French summer home. Wonderful beds. Both of us blue & orphans.”

Friday, Sept. 15 Flo wrote, “Left for Vesoul w/6th Corps artillery. Moved into small inn in Villers de Sac with Liz. Wonderful beds & kitchen to cook meals in. Fun. Drove down to QM in Ger. Jeep.

Sept. 16. “Cooking for 6th Corps donut gang. Madame Susan good to us. Fried 3 chickens & cut ‘em up myself. 11 for dinner. Danced in inn to phono. Raining hard.”

Liz and Flo plucking French chickens

Flo was very proud of herself for cutting up chicken and cooking meals. She had never been a cook. At home, she had worked at a job and her mother had done all the cooking. From the notes in her diary, it seems like she was getting in to her domestic side.

Ch. 33: https://mollymartin.blog/?p=4213

Evidence of Nazi War Crimes Mounts

Catching up with the Third Division

My Mother and Audie Murphy Ch. 31

September 8, 1944. After several days in the small town of Aix-en-Provence, the Red Cross crew drove north in an effort to catch up to the Third Division. They stopped in Grenoble where they stayed for a night in what Flo called, “a lovely hotel, taken by 7th Army.” She noted: “Boy from Ballard (A Seattle neighborhood) gave me cinnamon rolls.” She described Grenoble as “lovely and modern—very mountainous.”

From Flo’s album
From Flo’s diary

Flo also pasted on this page of her album a newspaper story quoting Sgt. Louis Roberts about Nazi brutality endured by the French. Sgt. Roberts must be a Yakima native. From the Yakima Herald:

Atrocities Are Reported

Sgt. Roberts Avers France Bled White

Sgt. Louis Roberts who has been staying recently with a French family, has thus been able to get a better understanding of condition in France than most of the Americans and has the added advantage of speaking the language.

“It is hard to fathom how Germany bled France of resources,” he says. “From one little sector each month the people had to send 13 ½ tons of shoes, 10,000 head of cattle, tons of butter, milk, wood and other things plus a monthly payment of five million francs. It is incredible how much a small region could ever supply so much. These people have been thrifty and economical enough to endure this war.

“Being deprived of food and clothing did not bother the French so much as the brutal measures the Germans took. Often children had to suffer the loss of limbs so parents would take pity on them and disclose vital information about the F.F.I. (French Forces of the Interior. The French resistance) One town north of here was taken by the F.F.I. The Germans warned the patriots that if one shot were fired after 11 o’clock they would retaliate. The warning was not heeded and the Germans retook the town and set all the houses afire along the main street.

“Numerous incidents are constantly told about how the Germans would shoot our wounded prisoners. Women would cover the bodies of dead aviators or allied soldiers with flowers which would be scattered by the Germans who were on guard. If some persons would linger over the body of one of our soldiers to pray they would be driven away at the point of bayonets.

“These French are very sorry, indeed, that all of us cannot understand the language. Each of them has some grewsome story to tell, not necessarily how they suffered but how the rest, or all of France, has to suffer. I have seen results of such brutality and I feel even more sorry for the French still in German territory. I could write a book on what I have heard and seen.

Yesterday I went to mass—a special mass for the liberation of the town. The church was beautifully decorated with numerous flags and stretched out up over the altar was a huge banner ‘Honor and Glory to the Americans.’ The choir and music were also beautiful. It was like Easter at home.”

Sgt. Roberts and Miss Florence Wick, Yakima Red Cross worker, are in the same town and see each other at times. He adds that “even though people are bombed out of their homes they are most happy to be liberated.”

Ch.32: https://mollymartin.blog/2025/06/09/catching-up-to-the-3rd-division/

The Red Cross Lands in France

In a letter home, Flo tells of arrival

My Mother and Audie Murphy ch. 29

Late August, 1944. Support staff, including the American Red Cross women, were required to wait till the end of August to follow the troops into Southern France. They sailed from Italy on the USS Joseph T. Dickman, the same ship that had carried many of the men, landing on the same beach near St. Tropez. The ARC women attached to the Third Infantry Division were the first to reach France.

They were billeted for a week in a small town, Aix-en-Provence, where they stayed in what Flo called “a quaint but comfortable hotel.” 

Aix-en-Provence. Pictures of the “quaint” hotel where they stayed, on right.

Flo’s letter home was published in the local Yakima newspaper:

Word From Florence Wick

Mrs. Gerda Wick, mother of Florence Wick, who is serving with the ARC in France has received a very interesting letter from her daughter. Florence writes:

“We came to France by boat. There were about 25 of us clubmobile girls, and we are waiting now in a lovely, quiet little southern French town until we can rejoin our various divisions. We landed in the same fashion as our troops had done previously, although, of course, we had the advantage of not being under fire.

“This part of southern France reminds me of Washington. There are fine trees and mountains and lovely valley gardens. The people are very nice, clean and polite. Their own soldiers are fighting as well as the civilians, and the spirit is wonderful.

“The war is moving so fast that we cannot keep up with it ourselves. When we can rejoin our units is unknown, but we miss them badly and want to get up there as soon as possible. Meanwhile, we are staying in a quaint but comfortable hotel, and enjoying white sheets and soft mattresses.

“The French can even make army K rations taste different, and their table service is wonderful. A separate plate for everything, and interesting sauces camouflaging our corned beef, Spam, etc. Their interior fighting forces, such as civilians underground, etc. have done a wonderful job and “fighting French” means just what it says.

Flo’s road map of France was put to good use by ARC clubmobilers

“The fruit here is very good—all varieties of melons, excellent tomatoes which they can fix a dozen different ways, and grapes.

“The thing that makes these French towns so different from ours is the complete lack of frame buildings. Everything is stone or stucco with tile roofs. That was true in Italy also. France is unbelievably clean and peaceful looking. There are, of course, smashed buildings, burned up and overturned Jerry equipment and shells lying around here and there to remind one of war, but they don’t seem real, somehow.

“The clubmobile girls were the first ARC girls in France and we are quite thrilled by it all particularly as there are hundreds who want to get over here and must stay on in Italy for a time.

“Please greet everyone for me.”

Ch.30: https://mollymartin.blog/2025/05/30/mortar-attack/

Ready to Leave Poor Italy

In a letter home, Flo writes of the strain of waiting

My Mother and Audie Murphy Ch. 25

August 24, 1944. “We are in the process of waiting right now and it is very much of a strain, particularly since “our boys” are fighting and we worry so much about them. War is hell when you “sweat out” an invasion and it becomes pretty grim when you hear that someone you knew well and liked a great deal has been wounded or killed. We hope to be with them before too long. 

“I have just started to comprehend Italian and will soon have to struggle with French, but I’m sure I’ll like it much better.

“I’ve gained at least 5 pounds, I am nut brown from outdoor life and feel excellent. The last two days I’ve had a sore throat and am now horse as a crow, but fine otherwise. 

“Paris fell last evening. No word from Gene,” wrote Flo in her diary August 23.

“My “Love life” is taking time off, too, as the boyfriend is having a little argument with the Jerries right now. I hope he will “come back” but there is always the tragic possibility that he won’t, along with hundreds of others. 

“The war advances are encouraging, though to us, not as encouraging as to the folks back home. I am afraid it will still be quite some time, but about that no one can tell for sure.

“It is as hot here as it must be at home in August. We didn’t mind it when we were in the country, but in the city it is very enervating and we notice it considerably. 

“I love my job and I am fond of my coworkers, so I’ve never been sorry I came over. In fact, I feel as if I’ve really been doing something. 

“Waiting around is hard, but we have even a bigger job ahead of us, as well as new scenes and new adventures.

“I will be just as glad to leave Italy – it has been fun here, but the people are very disillusioning– their whole standard of living is so far, far below what I expected and they seem to have no leaders, no particular ambition or initiative. Like much of Europe now, it is dirty and poor. We have very little to do with the natives and I am more often pitying them than not, but that is wearing. The poor children – there is no health standard and very little good food – the next generation will really suffer. 

“Ruth (her sister), If you get a chance, please tell Mom to send me some combs – long ones. They have nothing but cheap short ones in the PX here and I’m destitute. Some Italian stole my two pair of dress shoes, so I’m completely dependent on those horrible black oxfords. Only one package has reached me from home as yet.” 

Ch. 26: https://mollymartin.blog/2025/05/12/3rd-divisions-first-day-in-france/

She Liked Opera, They Liked Jazz

A decade older than the boys, Flo became a mother figure

Summer, 1944. My Mother and Audie Murphy Ch. 21

The soldiers were young—just boys, really—and by the end of that summer of 1944 at the training camp in Pozzuoli, they had become “her” boys. In the relative calm of the camp, Flo had served thousands of troops, gotten to know hundreds, and formed real friendships with many of them.

She and her clubmobile crew made regular visits to the army units, offering coffee, donuts, and a brief escape from the war. The women were allowed to join the men in some of their tasks—driving the amphibious DUKW boats, using the mine sweep, traveling to training areas, watching mock battles. Flo kept photos in her album—snapshots of the women posing with soldiers on tanks, jeeps, and trucks—memories of lighter moments amid the looming darkness. 

Flo and Dottie posing with 442nd Ack Ack

To the young men, she became a maternal figure. At 30, Flo was a decade or more older than most of the infantrymen who would soon be fighting on the front lines. There was a natural generational divide—she had grown up with opera and classical music; they preferred jazz. She danced the waltz. They wanted to jitterbug.

Dottie learns to use the mine detector
Flo and Dottie at Gaeta mine training

Still, there was deep mutual respect. She told me often how much she cared for them, how proud she was of them—and how worried she became as the next invasion loomed. She feared many of them wouldn’t come back.

Isabella and Liz with musicians
Flo with B Co. 10th Engineers

She always emphasized how respectful the soldiers were. Of course, they were under strict military discipline, and they lived with the constant awareness that any day could be their last. That shaped their behavior, certainly—but so did the bond they shared with her.

Photogrphers unknown, but probably 3rd Signal Co.

Ch. 22: https://mollymartin.blog/2025/04/21/goodbye-to-the-boys/

Dance with All, but Don’t Fall

My Mother and Audie Murphy Ch. 20

They were told to dance with all the boys—but fall for none. Red Cross rules were clear: dating was fine, as long as the man wore officer’s stripes. Enlisted men were off-limits.

By day, the women drove from camp to camp serving donuts. By night, they danced—sometimes until midnight, then back on their feet by 3 a.m. when the troops came off the line. It was often exhausting, but it was the job.

Flo did her duty. She danced with everyone. Her diary mentions a rotating cast of names—Gus, Buzz, Captain Chaney, Pvt. Rotter, Rick, Stonie, Lt. Phillips, and a handful of Yakima boys. She even dined with Gen. O’Daniel. But her heart stayed untouched.

Until Gene.

She met him in June at the Third Division bivouac at Pozzuoli while serving the 36th Engineers. The first hint shows up in her diary on July 13:  

“Date with Lt. Gustafson at 36E dinner and swimming at beach. Fun.”

From there, something shifted.

Flo serving the 36th Engineers

July 21:  

“Too many parties tomorrow nite; am involved.” 

She didn’t say his name, but by then, it was clear. She had a boyfriend.

Flo, once a secretary fluent in shorthand, sometimes switched to code in her diary. On July 23, in those secret curves and loops, she wrote:  

“Gene asked me to marry him today.”

The next day:  

“Gene down at 9:30. Looked at moon by the lake.”

The war made everything urgent. The ARC discouraged marriage, but love had its own rules. On July 28, she confessed:  

“Hate to think of the new invasion. He wants to give me a ring.”  

And then,  

July 31: “Afraid I like him lots.”  

August 6 in shorthand: “Decided I want to marry him.”

Gene Gustafson and Flo. She is wearing the armband used in the southern France invasion.

Flo had no shortage of admirers. She made friends easily, and turned down suitors gently. One woman joked that a soldier, refused by her, turned around and proposed to her friend—who accepted on the spot. It was that kind of war.

On August 7, as Gene prepared to ship out:  

“Last date with Gene. Love him in spite of resolve.”

Flo captioned this picture “Gene’s home at Anzio.”

In a letter to her sister Ruth, she tried to make sense of it all:  

“He’s big, very blonde, nice-looking, Swedish on both sides, and an engineer, as well as an Oregonian. It’s almost too perfect a set up and I don’t know just how it will materialize, but he wants to get married as soon as the army and Red Cross will let us. You would like this man and Mom especially, would approve. We’ve talked of going through Sweden before we come home but one never knows here. 

“War does some peculiar things though, and we have no idea when we will get together again, or, of course, if he will survive this mess. The only thing I can do is borrow your philosophy that if it is to be, it will be!” 

Ch. 21: https://mollymartin.blog/2025/04/17/she-liked-opera-they-liked-jazz/

A Sisterhood on the Front Lines

ARC women provided support to the men–and each other

My Mother and Audie Murphy Ch. 19

Summer 1944. Surrounded by thousands of men, the women of the American Red Cross (ARC) held their own. They got along well with the soldiers—it was their job to lift spirits, provide comfort, and remind the men of home.

Liz Elliott’s drawings are pasted throughout Flo’s album. The greatest mother was a found statue that lived outside their clubhouse tent.

In this overwhelmingly male environment, having three other women in their squad of Clubmobilers offered not just companionship, but a deep sense of mutual recognition. Over time, they grew as close as sisters while serving alongside the Third Infantry Division.

Washing hair in helmet
Liz after wash

Clubmobile women faced the strain and dangers of war with minimal training and little psychological preparation. Yet they were expected—and depended upon—to boost the morale of men fresh from the front. To endure these demands and perform their duties, they relied deeply on one another. Their camaraderie grew not only from shared experiences, but also from their unique position as noncombatants and women in a war zone.

With 3rd Signal Co.
Dottie in tent

They shared tents, washed their hair in army helmets, and leaned on each other in moments of grief—mourning the loss of friends and fiancés who died on the front lines. They were a sisterhood in every sense, traveling together during leave and supporting each other through the toughest of times.

The original squad of four included:  

Florence “Flo” Wick  

Dorothy “Dottie” Shands  

Elizabeth “Liz” Elliott  

Isabella “Jingles” Hughes

At 30, my mother, Florence Wick “Flo”, was the oldest of the group and served as the squad’s captain.

Elizabeth “Liz” Elliott was the one Clubmobiler who stayed with Flo from their early days in Naples all the way into Germany. Liz was the artist who drew pictures of the ARC women’s experience like the one above. Though she lived in New York City, she was originally born in New Mexico. Dottie and Jingles were later reassigned to different stations across Europe.

Dorothy “Dottie” Shands, born in Greenville, Mississippi, graduated from Baylor University in 1940. Her maternal grandmother had been the first woman legislator in her Mississippi county and a suffragist; her paternal grandfather served as Governor of Mississippi. After the war, Dottie worked as a secretary in Washington, D.C. for Representative Will Whittington. During the conflict, she served two and a half years with the Red Cross, beginning in North Africa and following the Third Division through Sicily, Italy, France, and Germany. She broke her leg in Sicily but remained with her team—a testament to her grit. Like Flo, she came from a small town, and her community followed her wartime service with great pride.

Isabella “Jingles” Hughes, from Baltimore, reached the front in North Africa in July 1943, following the troops into Sicily and then Italy. She was delivering donuts before Flo even set sail for Naples.

Though their lives were often at risk—and some ARC workers were killed during the war—these four survived to return home. The sisterhood they formed was essential to their physical and emotional survival.

Ch. 20: https://mollymartin.blog/2025/04/11/dance-with-all-but-dont-fall/

In the Tent City Near Pozzuoli Italy

My Mother and Audie Murphy ch. 18

Pozzuoli, Italy—In the sweltering summer of 1944, the 3rd Infantry Division assembled near this small resort town, joining the 36th and 45th Divisions in preparation for a high-stakes amphibious invasion of southern France. These battle-hardened troops, fresh from the grueling Anzio campaign and the march to Rome, were now under the Seventh Army’s command, sharpening their combat readiness for the next major offensive.

(L-R) Flo, Dottie and Jingles serve the 803rd Ordnance Co.
Flo hands out donuts with a smile
Isabelle Hughes serves soldiers on the docks returning from a training mission
Lunch with the “boys”

Among them was an unassuming but vital group—Flo and her clubmobile squad—who arrived in June to serve the men a taste of home: fresh donuts and hot coffee. Stationed in a sprawling tent city, these women had to get creative without a clubmobile truck, the specially outfitted vehicle designed for donut-making on the go. Instead, they improvised, scrounging up transportation and setting up makeshift field canteens in the dusty camps where soldiers could grab a sweet treat before heading back to drills. They were assisted by “donut boys,” soldiers who manned the donut machine in a tent kitchen.

Flo on the left
Flo and the “boys”
Isabella, Flo and Dottie serving at bivouac
Flo serving at night

Flo meticulously recorded her daily work in a diary that read like a military log, listing the units she and her team served, often during the darkest hours of the night. Her notes mentioned names that would later be etched in history: the 1st Battalion of the 30th Infantry Regiment, the 441st Co. A+B, the 9th Field Artillery, the 36th Combat Engineers. On one occasion, on July 16, she may have even handed a donut to a young soldier named Audie Murphy—the future war hero and Hollywood star—though she dryly noted the day as “quite dull.” Murphy, in his autobiography, recalled the 1st Bn. 15th completing amphibious training earlier in the year, which likely explains their limited encounters at Pozzuoli.

One entry stood out: service to the 442nd Ack Ack (Anti-Aircraft Battalion), part of the legendary segregated Japanese American 442nd Regimental Combat Team. These soldiers, despite facing discrimination at home, were training for a mission that would cement their reputation as one of the most decorated units in U.S. military history.

Flo’s diary (pinch out to read)

Photographs from this period, many taken by the 3rd Signal Company, capture Flo and her fellow workers hard at work. These combat photographers, who had joined the division at Anzio, developed and printed their images in a darkroom trailer, documenting the war in vivid, unfiltered detail. Their images offer a rare glimpse into the everyday moments behind the front lines. For more see dogfacesoldier.org, a website dedicated to their photos and the 3rd Division.

Ch. 19: https://mollymartin.blog/2025/04/05/a-sisterhood-on-the-front-lines/

Rome is Liberated by Allies

Flo is one of the first to enter the city after Nazis retreat

My mother and Audie Murphy ch. 15

The city of Rome was liberated by Allied troops June 4, 1944. Flo got to Rome the next day, June 5. She told me she was proud to come into the city with General Mark Clark and the U.S. 5th Army. The Third Division had taken big hits in battles at Anzio and on the Italian coast. Rome would be an easy victory, a source of prestige for the leaders and pride for infantrymen recovering from those battles. Later, historians and Allied commanders agreed that Clark’s decision to march into Rome instead of cutting off a large part of the retreating German army was a major blunder, extending the war for maybe another year. In any case, the liberation of Rome was overshadowed by the D-Day landings on the beaches of Normandy in northern France on June 6. 

A page in Flo’s album. She saw the Irving Berlin show in Rome

Flo kept detailed notes in a tiny pocket-sized diary. This was the first entry.

Monday June 5, 1944

Came into Rome in amphib Jeep with Frank Gates.

They were traveling from the camp at Pozzuoli, a seaside town on the Gulf of Naples where they’d been bivouacked with the Third Division. At first I imagined that they drove the 138 miles on the bombed out rutted roads. But these amphibious jeeps were faster in the water than on land, so now I’m thinking they traveled on the water. Amphib jeeps were used by the Third Division because they were training for an amphibious landing in France that would take place in August.

photo: Wiki commons
Photo:Ford GPA trials Unknown author – Library of Congress

The amphibious jeep. There were about 12,000 built by Ford.

Flo didn’t make note of who was with her and Frank Gates, but I’m imagining all four of the American Red Cross women in her group went to Rome together. Gates was able to secure a promise from a rich anti-Nazi Roman to allow the ARC clubmobilers to stay in his fancy villa. The four women moved in soon after. The man did much to make them comfortable.

I wasn’t able to find information about Frank Gates but I believe he was Flo’s boss, the Red Cross director on the Italian front whose job was to establish ARC canteens and clubs near the front lines of fighting. He would be driving around Rome to look for suitable buildings in which to house the clubs. 

Unlike Naples, which had been bombed for years, Rome had been spared from widespread destruction by the Nazis in part due to its declaration as an “open city” by the Italian government and the efforts of the Vatican to protect it, which led to a relatively peaceful occupation and liberation. No one, perhaps not even the Nazis, wanted to be responsible for destroying that historic city. 

The 1945 Italian film Rome, Open City, directed by Roberto Rossellini, takes place during the Nazi occupation of Rome. It was one of the first post-war Italian films to gain major acclaim internationally.

The ARC women were some of the first Americans to move into Rome. Before Allied troops started coming in, they had the city almost to themselves and set about seeing all the tourist sights. Flo wanted to see all the famous architectural treasures she had read about as a child.

From a report in the Yakima Herald-Republic

Florence Wick busy in Italy

Life in the Italian theatre of war can be fun as well as hard work for American Red Cross workers, Miss Florence Wick told her mother, Mrs. Gerda Wick of Yakima, in a recent letter.

“So much and so many exciting things have happened since I left home that I can’t believe any of it yet,” Miss Wick said. “This last event is the biggest dream yet. I am writing this in my new home, which is a beautiful, spacious Italian villa. We four girls moved in yesterday from our dusty camp down the road and have the whole villa and grounds to ourselves.

“There is a bathroom and bedroom for each of us and we truly live like princesses in a fairy tale. The villa belongs to a very wealthy Italian, who is an anti-fascist, who lost his whole family to the Germans. He loves to do favors for us.”

High praise for Capt. Harold Haines of Yakima was voiced by the Red Cross woman.

“Capt. Haines is something of a hero over here,” she said. “Fighting in a war does things like ‘knocking off’ officers and men, but Haines is one of the very few original officers left. Yakima should be very proud of him. His own men are and that’s the acid test out here.”

The nice weather makes it even more pleasant to drive around the various areas to serve the men, Miss Wick said. Because the unit is not yet equipped to turn out doughnuts for all the men, she has had time to visit interesting places she has read about but never expected to see. Mt. Vesuvius and the ancient city of Pompeii are among the sights she has seen.

“I don’t know how long we will be in this beautiful place,” Miss Wick said, “but we are going to enjoy it as long as we do stay. No doubt we will be roughing it again in a tent or bombed out building before long. I won’t mind that if I get to stay with this grand division.”

The ARC women didn’t stay in the villa in Rome very long. By July 9 Flo is back in the camp, writing in her diary about cleaning their tent.

Ch. 16: https://mollymartin.blog/2025/03/21/foot-soldiers-in-rome/

Bivouacked: Flo Arrives in Italy

Her letters home are published in the Yakima paper

My Mother and Audie Murphy ch. 13

Miss S.I. Anthon was a family friend who visited and sent Christmas cards throughout my childhood. She reminded me of the BBC version of Agatha Christie’s sleuth, Miss Marple. She was unmarried, was short with short curly hair, and (during the 1950s and 60s) dressed in a straight no-nonsense mid-calf-length skirt, blouse, vest and suit jacket and those low-heeled sturdy shoes worn then by women of a certain age. She usually wore a hat (women wore hats in those days). We always called her Miss Anthon. She was a reporter for the local newspaper, the Yakima Republic, later the Yakima Herald-Republic.

Soester (sister in Danish) I. Anthon was born in Denmark in 1890 and she lived in Yakima’s Scandinavian neighborhood. She was a neighbor as well as a mentor to my mother, and she shared Scandinavian roots with the Wick family. By 1930 Miss Anthon was the managing editor of the Yakima Republic, the evening newspaper, a rare accomplishment for an immigrant woman whose first language was not English. For many years she wrote a column called “Daily Mirror of Life in Yakima,” and during the war she reported on the activities of local men and women serving overseas. 

When Flo wrote home from Europe, her mother, Gerda, would share the letters with Miss Anthon, who would write them up into news stories. While few of Flo’s actual letters to her mother survive, Miss Anthon’s clipped stories are pasted throughout Flo’s WWII album.

A page in Flo’s WWII album

One of Miss Anthon’s earliest reports quotes Flo’s descriptions of her first weeks in Italy.

June, 1944.

Headline: Yakima Girl Now in Italy. Miss Wick Tells About Her Tasks

Miss Florence Wick, who recently landed in Italy as a member of an American Red Cross clubmobile staff, is getting broken into her work “by passing out doughnuts and a smile,” she writes her relatives here.

“Several of us clubmobile girls are billeted at present in an old Italian hotel,” she says. “It has such incongruous items in it as a huge crystal chandelier and ornate gold valances over the doors. As in all Europe, the plumbing leaves much to be desired and warm water is rare enough to cause excitement.

“We have a sweet little Italian girl who acts as maid, does our laundry and tries very hard to learn English. She even goes to school after working all day. They are so poor here. It makes our standard of living seem even higher and makes us all appreciate the U.S. more than ever.

“I saw some of the Italian country-side in a tour and find it very pretty and picturesque. The fruit trees (cherries and apricots) remind me of Yakima.

“The trains are small and have only two or three cars on them. They are more like our street cars.

“Clubmobile will give me an opportunity to see more of Italy than just club work and although we clubmobile gals won’t be as settled and won’t be able to dress up as much, I think we will get a greater experience.”

“I have had some interesting talks with the men—both officers and G.I.’s. Some have had some harrowing experiences. They can always laugh and ‘sling a line,’ regardless, and the ‘purple heart’ boys do the best of any.

“The Red Cross service men’s club here is the nicest I’ve ever seen and the boys really appreciate it. There haven’t been many West Coast boys through here, but when I run into them, I’m as pleased as they are. All the others seem to think Washington state is out of this world.”

Flo was assigned to a clubmobile group of four women, and she was designated captain of the group, which included Isabella Hughes (Jingles) of Baltimore, Elizabeth Elliott (Liz) of New York City, and Dorothy Shands (Dottie) of Greenville, Miss. 

L-R Isabella Hughes (Jingles), Elizabeth Elliott (Liz), Dorothy Shands (Dottie), Florence Wick (Flo). Flo wrote “Overlooking a lovely Mediterranean beach. The villas along here were all bombed and ruined.”

Flo and her team were first stationed near Naples in an old Italian hotel from the time her ship docked May 28, 1944. It seemed like the ARC was not quite ready for their arrival. The women just sat around for several days before the ARC could figure out what to do with them. They had started to feel like they’d been hired as concubines when they finally got an assignment. Rather than driving a two-and-a-half-ton truck around Italy like the other Europe-based clubmobilers, they would be bivouacked with the Third Infantry Division of the Army. The tent city was near the town of Pozzuoli, on the sea, just north of Naples, where the soldiers trained for an amphibious landing in France. 

Goodbye hotel with crystal chandeliers, maid and laundry service. Hello Army tents with cots and bedrolls.

A Familiar Voice in the Blackout

The company had just arrived in Naples, one of thousands of American and British units flooding into the battered port city. Their first stop was the American Red Cross club, a welcome sight after weeks on the move.

Inside, amid the clatter of cups and typewriters, he scanned the lists of newly arrived Red Cross women. There it was — a familiar name. An old girlfriend from back home. The war had scattered them across oceans, and now fate had brought them to the same city. But there was no time to find her. Orders came down; the company had to move.

That night, the air raid sirens began. The Germans, retreating north, were still pounding the city, shelling the docks and rail lines. The blackout was immediate — every light extinguished. Hundreds of soldiers, nurses, and civilians poured from buildings into the damp mouth of a tunnel carved into the hillside.

It was pitch dark. The air was thick with fear, sweat, and the echo of boots. Then, through the chaos, he heard a voice. Her voice.

He called her name, and she called back. In the darkness, they moved toward each other, guided only by sound. They reached out — a hand, a sleeve, a touch — and for a moment, found each other. They couldn’t see a thing, but they laughed softly in disbelief. Two people from the same small town, meeting again by chance in the middle of a war, in total darkness.

When the shelling stopped, the crowd dispersed into the shattered streets, and they lost each other again.

They wouldn’t see each other until after the war, back home, this time in daylight. 

The woman was my mother, Florence Wick. The man was (later) my uncle Morton Werner. He married Flo’s sister, Ruth. They each told this story many times, marveling at the happenstance.

Ch. 14: https://mollymartin.blog/2025/03/11/anzio-advance-retreat-repeat/