Category: World War II

Post-War Letters to Flo

She Kept in Touch with Third Division Friends

My Mother and Audie Murphy Chapter 126

During and after the war Flo continued to correspond with friends in the Third Infantry Division and she saved some of their letters in her album. Some of these reference her love affair with Col. Chris Chaney. The last letter she saved from him was written in April, 1945. It seems they broke up near the end of the war. It’s likely Flo reunited with some of these men at the frequent reunions of the division.

Mailed from NY, NY

Jan 20, 1945

France

Dear Florence,

I suppose I should have written to you before but since I have to have all my letters written for me I have been reluctant to do so. I lost one eye completely and have only half vision in the other. Somewhat like the old saying “Blind in one eye and cant see out of the other one.” The docs tell me that I can see about as much as I ever will so I am doomed for retirement.

Your friend Glen

Part of a letter from a French-speaking friend

Lt. Gus Phillips

Feb 15, 1945

Dear Flo,

My left arm is paralyzed but should be ok in a week or so. They are going to take the pieces out of my left eyebrow in a few days so I will be as good as new. How has the Col (Chaney) been doing since I left? Guess I have lost out completely.

To be truthful, Flo, this is much better than when I was with the outfit. I am afraid it is spoiling me. Really it’s nice to have no worries and to eat and sleep.

Take care of yourself.

Love, Gus

Lionel C. McGarr

Colonel, Infantry

U.S. Army

August 2, 1946

Flo darling!

…. I know how you feel about getting settled. I am going through the same deal. I found one thing I liked when the war came along and now it is pretty hard to be a “peace time” soldier—don’t even like being a family man too much. Must be the “mileage” we put on over there.

I am Executive Officer at Ft. Myer now but will leave to go to the National War College Washington DC. It is the army’s top school and I guess I should feel flattered. It will be a ten month course starting in September.

The Regimental History was finished. It is a swell look and a “damn” well written history. It can never be as good as that “crazy” regiment actually was, Flo. You and I know that. Certainly is grand to write to you ‘cause I know that you understand. I look back over the 31 months of action and am “damn” proud of these kids—proud and humble. They were tops.

(About proposed deactivation of the division and citations) Why in hell (the commanders) don’t fight for us like we fought for them I don’t know. They always demanded everything and gave nothing in return. They still have their stars though. Our whole country seems to be the same.

They just want to forget the men we killed. I cannot forget them and I don’t want to forget them. In fact it is hard to sleep at night at times because of them. I feel that we all, those of us who understand, must keep up the fight to get for our country the things those kids died for. They forget soon—too soon!

(Jens) Jansen was here the other day. He is waiting for (Janet) Potts to get here and they are to be married—imagine!!

Love, Mac

September 12, 1946

Dearest Flo,

Received your swell answer to my last letter and your picture. The snap was swell. Jansen and Janet were married the 24thof last month at the Fort Myer chapel and I gave the bride away. They left shortly after for the West. I hear, later, that this is her third wedding. Golla! What a woman—if true! She looked swell and so did Floyd (Jens).

…. We had a letter from Chaney and he expected to be assigned to Atlanta Georgia. Don’t know what he is to do yet. Yes, Flo I knew—just sensed it—that you and he were crazy about each other. Maybe now you do wonder if he was worth it—and maybe now he isn’t. He was then I am sure and I am a bit disappointed in you that you did not let love have its way there. Happiness comes so seldom and in such small lots that I, being a realist as you say, think one should take advantage of it when it comes. Lord! knows you had plenty of heartbreak and no one, not that it matters, could have begrudged you that much happiness. One of our best pictures in the book is of your pals n’ you taken in Strasbourg.

I am now going to school and plenty busy. Being a school boy again is fun but hard to get used to again. Bye now—and don’t be too good—if it hurts.

Love, Mac

Postcard from Heidelberg from a soldier named Jack

P. B. Larimore

Memphis, Tenn.

Sept. 9, 1947

Dear Flo,

….I don’t know how any of we line company officers and doggies could ever forget you “Doughnut Gals.” There must be a very special and wonderful place reserved in every Marne Man’s heart for all of you.

I think I remember you all the night in Nancy when you all served doughnuts to my company. Do you remember that big white house we had for the company and the chow line out back?

Oh yes, Agolsheim, did you know that was the second big attack in which I had acted in the capacity of C.O.? Golly! But after things finally quieted down, I enjoyed that little town. That was the first time we ever had any fun on the Rhine River. About that big white goose—we did cook it, we did eat it, and it was good! Do wish Col. Chaney had let you stay long enough to have some. Do you remember that little courtyard in front of my C.P.? About 15 minutes after you left, three 120 MM mortar shells landed in the center of that courtyard. Lucky no one was hurt but those shells sure shot hell out of our rations. I shudder to think what would have happened had those shells come in while you were still there. C’est la Guerre!

Oh yes, I saw Col. Chaney in Atlanta about three or four months ago, still the same swell guy, but some of the things he told me about how and what condition I was in when they finally got me to the aid station did scare me a little.

I am retired now, much to my utter disgust, because it seems the army does not want one-legged officers now. So, since my hopes for an army career are shot, I am going to University of Virginia to take training to enter the State Department.

Sincerely, Larry

Murphy: HUAC Is Un-American

He Stands Up Against Attacks on Hollywood

My Mother and Audie Murphy chapter 125

Audie Murphy’s relationship with the House Un-American Activities Committee (HUAC) reveals a complex intersection of patriotism, celebrity, and the political paranoia of the Cold War. Murphy’s resistance to the climate of fear created by HUAC highlights a principled stand against the infringement of civil liberties and the weaponization of patriotism.

The House Un-American Activities Committee was a congressional committee formed in 1938 to investigate subversive activities within the United States. While its initial focus was on Nazi and fascist influence, its focus shifted sharply after WWII toward the perceived threat of communism. By the late 1940s and 1950s, HUAC had become a tool for political persecution, utilizing public hearings to “out” suspected communists. The committee operated on a system of coercion; witnesses were often pressured to “name names”—to identify colleagues, friends, or family members with socialist or communist leanings—in exchange for their own professional survival. Those who refused to cooperate were often cited for contempt of Congress or, more commonly in Hollywood, were placed on “blacklists,” effectively ending their careers.

From the book Show Trial: Hollywood, HUAC, and the Birth of the Blacklist by Thomas Doherty

Audie Murphy’s involvement with the anti-HUAC sentiment was less about an ideological alignment with the left and more about a visceral reaction to the committee’s tactics. Murphy, who had faced the horrors of war and seen the true meaning of sacrifice, found the committee’s methods of intimidation and betrayal abhorrent. For Murphy, the demand that citizens betray one another to prove their loyalty was fundamentally un-American. He viewed the HUAC hearings not as a defense of democracy, but as an attack on the very freedom of association and thought that he had fought to protect in Europe. 

Murphy’s stance was particularly potent because he was “untouchable” by the committee. As a national hero with a chest full of medals, including the Medal of Honor, he could not be easily painted as a “Red” or a subversive. This gave him a unique platform to criticize the committee without the immediate fear of professional ruin that haunted his peers.

Murphy was not alone in his opposition, though the risks for others were far higher. The most famous instance of resistance occurred in 1947 with the “Hollywood Ten,” a group of screenwriters and directors who refused to answer HUAC’s questions on First Amendment grounds. They were imprisoned for contempt, and their names became synonymous with the blacklist. Other stars took different paths of resistance. Paul Robeson, a world-renowned singer and actor, became a primary target of the committee due to his outspoken socialist views and his refusal to renounce them, leading to a systemic erasure of his career in the United States. 

Audie Murphy testifies

The First Amendment Committee made a radio program to defend the First Amendment and critique HUAC–Hollywood fights back. Forty-five stars, directors, screenwriters and four U.S. senators spoke.

Audie Murphy said: 

“You know during the war every guy in uniform dreamed of the day when he could stop squeezing triggers and come home. You get so fed up on fighting that you never want to do it again. There’s one kind of fighting that has to go on always. You can’t ever take a furlough from this fight to preserve human liberty. I think the methods used by the Thomas Rankin committee are a challenge to those liberties and I think we should use every fair and constitutional means to fight those methods.” (HUAC was also called the Thomas Rankin committee).

In the broader context of McCarthyism and the Red Scare, Audie Murphy’s opposition to HUAC serves as a reminder that the defense of civil liberties is not the exclusive domain of any one political party. Murphy’s resistance was rooted in a soldier’s code of honor and a citizen’s demand for privacy. By challenging the committee, he demonstrated that true patriotism consists not of blind obedience or the betrayal of others, but of the courage to protect the constitutional rights of all individuals, regardless of their political affiliations.

Murphy, in particular, embodied the principle that American heroes are defined not only by military valor but by the willingness to defend constitutional liberties. His opposition to HUAC showed that the most decorated soldier of World War II understood that the war’s true purpose—defending American freedom—required vigilance against threats to liberty even from within America’s own government.

Committee for the First Amendment Relaunched

Recently over 550 celebrities relaunched the Committee for the First Amendment. The current group is headlined by actor and activist Jane Fonda — whose father, actor Henry Fonda, was one of the early members.

Jane Fonda rallys fellow actors. Photo: msn.com

Their intent is to stand up in a defense of our constitutional rights: “The federal government is once again engaged in a coordinated campaign to silence critics in the government, the media, the judiciary, academia, and the entertainment industry.”

In a letter inviting her peers to join the re-established group, Fonda writes: “I’m 87 years old. I’ve seen war, repression, protest, and backlash. I’ve been celebrated, and I’ve been branded an enemy of the state. But I can tell you this: this is the most frightening moment of my life. When I feel scared, I look to history. I wish there were a secret playbook with all the answers — but there never has been. The only thing that has ever worked — time and time again — is solidarity: binding together, finding bravery in numbers too big to ignore, and standing up for one another.”

Chapter 126: https://mollymartin.blog/2026/10/17/post-war-letters-to-flo/

The Legacy of the Nuremberg Trials

Contributions to International Law

My Mother and Audie Murphy Chapter 124

This is the 80th Anniversary of the Trials’ End

On October 1, 1946, the Nuremberg Trials concluded after nearly a year of unprecedented legal proceedings, marking a watershed moment in the history of international law. Eight decades later, this landmark tribunal stands as the cornerstone upon which modern international justice has been built. The trials represented humanity’s first comprehensive attempt to hold individuals accountable for crimes against peace, war crimes, and crimes against humanity—establishing principles and precedents that would ultimately lead to the creation of the International Criminal Court (ICC) and a fundamentally transformed approach to global accountability.

The Context and Necessity of Nuremberg

Following World War II’s devastation, the victorious Allied powers faced an unprecedented challenge: how to address the systematic atrocities perpetrated by Nazi Germany. The Holocaust had claimed six million Jewish lives, alongside millions of others. War crimes, slave labor, and crimes against humanity had been committed on a staggering scale. Traditional warfare had rendered conventional military tribunals insufficient for addressing these crimes. The Allies recognized that justice required an entirely new legal framework—one that transcended national boundaries and established that individuals, regardless of their official position or nationality, could be held accountable for mass atrocities.

Aerial view of the Palace of Justice in 1945 where the trials took place, with the prison attached behind it. Photo: Wiki commons

The four major Allied powers—the United States, Soviet Union, United Kingdom, and France—convened in Nuremberg, Germany, to conduct trials of 24 high-ranking Nazi officials, including Hermann Göring, Rudolf Hess, and Joachim von Ribbentrop. The trials lasted nearly a year, from November 1945 to October 1, 1946. Of the 22 primary defendants, 12 were sentenced to death by hanging, three received life imprisonment, and four received shorter prison terms, while three were acquitted. 

Revolutionary Legal Principles

The Nuremberg Trials established several revolutionary legal principles that reshaped international law. First, they affirmed that individuals could be prosecuted for crimes against humanity even when those acts were technically “legal” under their own government’s laws. This principle directly challenged the notion of absolute state sovereignty and asserted that certain human rights transcend national jurisdiction.

Second, the trials established that “following orders” was not a valid defense for committing atrocities. The trials also introduced the concept of “crimes against peace”—the planning and waging of aggressive war—as a prosecutable offense under international law.

Third, the trials demonstrated that rigorous legal procedures, transparent evidence presentation, and the right to defense could coexist with accountability for mass atrocities. 

The Path to the International Criminal Court

The principles established at Nuremberg reverberated through subsequent decades of international legal development. The Universal Declaration of Human Rights (1948), adopted just two years after the trials concluded, embodied many Nuremberg principles in its assertion of universal human rights. The Genocide Convention (1948) similarly codified international liability for mass atrocities.

However, the Cold War froze the development of permanent international criminal institutions for nearly fifty years. It was not until the 1990s that the world revisited Nuremberg’s legacy. The atrocities in the former Yugoslavia and Rwanda prompted the United Nations Security Council to establish the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia (ICTY) and the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda (ICTR)—modern successors to Nuremberg’s model.

These tribunals paved the way for the establishment of the International Criminal Court in 2002, which represented the realization of Nuremberg’s foundational promise: a permanent international institution dedicated to prosecuting individuals for the gravest crimes of international concern. 

Americans Mostly Just Wanted to Move On

The gravity of the Nuremberg proceedings captured the public imagination, spawning films and documentaries that sought to dramatize the struggle between law and tyranny. One of the most notable cultural connections was Marlene Dietrich. She volunteered her time and resources to support the war effort and later used her global platform to champion the memory of the victims, ensuring the horrors documented at Nuremberg were not forgotten by the postwar generation. She performed in the 1961 film Judgment at Nuremberg.

While my mother, Florence Wick, didn’t include information about the trials in her WWII album, she paid close attention to them and the outcome. The idea of “organized justice” appealed to her, but she felt the trials did not go far enough and should have targeted more German perpetrators. She would be outraged that the U.S. refuses to participate in the ICC and that Trump proposes to sanction the court, calling it “rogue” and “evil.”

In the US, despite the historical importance of the trials, there was a powerful countervailing current of “war fatigue.” By 1946, millions of GIs were returning home, and the American economy was shifting back to peacetime production. While most Americans cared that the leaders were punished, there was a palpable eagerness to close the chapter on the war and look toward the future.

Chapter 125: https://mollymartin.blog/2026/10/06/murphy-huac-is-un-american/

Flo Awarded the Bronze Star

The Military’s Recognition vs. Red Cross Restrictions

My Mother and Audie Murphy Chapter 123

The U.S. Army recognized Florence Wick’s service with multiple military honors, but the American Red Cross (ARC) severely restricted her ability to display them. Flo received the Presidential Citation Ribbon with four bronze battle stars for service in the European Theater, the fourragère (a French military decoration awarded to units that distinguished themselves in combat), and the Bronze Star. Despite these honors, the ARC forbade her from wearing most of them, a policy that reflected institutional tensions over the women’s status and role.

Why the ARC Prohibited Display of Military Awards

The ARC’s restrictions stemmed from a deliberate strategy to maintain the appearance that these women were noncombatants, even though their actual service contradicted this designation. After VE Day, clubmobilers who had served at least 30 days in designated battle zones became eligible for battle stars—the same recognition offered to military personnel. The Army awarded these women five battle stars to wear on their European Theater of Operations ribbons.

Sept 21, 1946 in Washington DC wearing the bronze star

The ARC’s response was to prohibit the women from wearing Army-issued battle stars and instead issued meaningless silver stars as a substitute. This move served two purposes: it denied the women public recognition of their actual combat-zone service, and it reinforced the Red Cross’s institutional need to classify these women as civilians rather than military personnel. Allowing the women to wear military decorations might have jeopardized the very arrangement that permitted them to work so close to the fighting front.

Evidence of Military Support

Not all Army officials agreed with the ARC’s restrictions. Colonel L.C. McGarr, who served as Assistant Division Commander, wrote to Flo expressing his support. In his correspondence, he stated: “I hope you get that bronze star—it was my last official act as Asst Div C.G. You gals deserve it first of all in my books.” This correspondence suggests that Army leadership recognized and valued the contributions of the clubmobilers, even as the Red Cross worked to minimize their visibility and official status.

Citation signed by President Harry Truman

The Casualty Record: Evidence of Actual Combat Risk

The casualty statistics reveal how close these women truly came to combat. The American Red Cross lost 280 personnel across World Wars I and II out of 51,600 serving—a rate of 5 deaths per 1,000 serving. This compares to approximately 3 deaths per 1,000 for the entire U.S. armed forces.

During World War II specifically, the ARC lost 86 personnel, and 52 of them (60%) were women. These women experienced higher casualty rates than male ARC workers because they spent significantly more time close to and on the fighting front. This casualty record provided irrefutable evidence that clubmobilers like Flo were exposed to genuine combat danger—contradicting the ARC’s classification of them as noncombatants.

Support from another officer: “…reading your name in a General Order gave me a bigger thrill than if it had been my own name.”

Broader Implications for Female Veterans

Flo’s experience reflected a larger institutional failure to recognize women’s wartime service. Post-war initiatives like the GI Bill were overwhelmingly directed toward male veterans, despite women technically being eligible. Female veterans were rarely informed of their eligibility for education and training benefits during discharge, while male veterans received systematic outreach. Noncombatants like the clubmobilers received no GI Bill benefits at all, further marginalizing their contributions and limiting their post-war opportunities.

This was apparently the best the ARC would do.

The ARC’s suppression of military awards was not simply bureaucratic oversight—it was a deliberate institutional choice that denied these women recognition for service that exceeded the danger levels of many official military personnel.

Thanks to: “After all, who takes care of the Red Cross’s morale?”: The Experiences of American Red Cross Clubmobile Women during World War II, A Thesis by Paige N. Gulley and “Girls” in Name Only: A Study of American Red Cross Volunteers on the Frontlines of World War II, A thesis by Julia A. Ramsey

Chapter 124: https://mollymartin.blog/2026/10/01/the-legacy-of-the-nuremberg-trials/

The Men She Left Behind

Flo stays in touch with soldiers in occupied Germany

My Mother and Audie Murphy Chapter 122

In the spring of 1946, Flo had made it back home, but she remained connected to her friends in occupied Germany. One of them was a family friend from her hometown of Yakima, Major Dan Wickersham. In her album she posted a biographical sketch of him along with some pictures of others who stayed in the occupied zone. 

According to the sketch, “Major Wickersham has been with the Third Division longer than any other officer now present, and he has some definite ideas about how the peace should be kept.

“The public cry of ‘send my boy home to me’ is so depleting the Occupation Forces that we will soon be hard pressed to carry out all the projects required to adequately secure and maintain the Army of Occupation,” the major says.

“A victory that cost so much must be adequately protected. However, I have complete confidence that the Occupation will be successful and with new replacements that will begin to come from the States in December, effective strength will be assured.

“The future? Well, I love the Army and have given it six of the best years of my life, but at times my wife and that apple orchard in Yakima, Washington, look mighty good to me.”

The American Occupation Force remained in Germany for a decade, until 1955. I don’t know when Maj. Wickersham was able to return to Yakima. In the meantime, Flo commiserated (and fished) with his wife, also named Florence.

The Flos–Wick and Wickersham

The first anniversary of the Southern France invasion was August 15, 1946.

My brother Don found this clipping from the Nevada State Journal, 1956. Dan Wickersham’s granddaughter told me he died in a fishing accident on the Columbia River in 1964.

Comrades in the Occupied Zone sent pictures

Col. John A. Heintges (Flo’s 1945 Xmas date who later became a general) and Lt. Col. Ralph Flynn, 7th Infantry Regiment (L), Lt. Leland Nelson, whose parents Flo visited in Walla Walla WA (R)

Regimental staff, 30th Infantry

Col. Lionel G. McGarr, Reg. commander 30th Infantry at a funeral in Paris

2nd Lt. E.P. Homola

Chapter 123: https://mollymartin.blog/2026/09/21/flo-awarded-the-bronze-star/

Back Home Depression Takes Over

Flo Listens to Lili Marlene on Repeat

My Mother and Audie Murphy Chapter 120

In April 1946, Flo returned to her hometown of Yakima, where she spent the summer reflecting on her two years in Europe as a Red Cross “donut girl.” My cousin Sandy, who was then six years old and a frequent visitor to “grandma’s house” remembers that Flo sat in her room listening to the song Lili Marlene over and over during that time, likely while compiling the album of her wartime experiences–a way of processing the grief and loss she carried home.

Back in the USA. Flo was always reading.

Lili Marlene was a German love song that became an unlikely anthem of World War II, beloved by both Axis and Allied troops. Originally written as a poem in 1915 by Hans Leip, a conscripted schoolteacher, it was set to music in 1938 and first recorded by Lale Andersen in 1939. The song gained massive popularity after being played frequently by Soldatensender Belgrad (Soldier’s Radio Belgrade), a German radio station broadcasting across Europe and the Mediterranean. Despite initial opposition from propaganda minister Joseph Goebbels, the song’s immense popularity among soldiers—including General Erwin Rommel—forced the Nazi government to embrace it as a broadcast sign-off.

For soldiers in the field, the song’s nostalgic, melancholy tone symbolized the distant homes and loved ones they left behind. Allied soldiers in North Africa and Italy often listened to it as a nightly ritual, with some even adapting the melody to their own lyrics.

The song’s reach expanded further through the U.S. Office of Strategic Services’ “Muzak Project,” which used musical propaganda to influence enemy morale. As part of this effort, Marlene Dietrich recorded the song in German and performed it live for Allied troops across Europe. Dietrich continued to perform Lili Marlene throughout her career, including in the 1961 film Judgment at Nuremberg, cementing the song’s legacy as a poignant symbol of the shared loneliness and longing experienced by soldiers on all sides of the conflict. For Flo, the song’s melancholy resonated deeply with her own shattered state of mind.

Flo was depressed and I suspect that she suffered from what we now recognize as post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) after witnessing so much destruction and death including the death of her fiancé, Gene Gustafson. She was quoted in a newspaper saying she was “surprised at the seeming apathy with which world affairs are considered by most persons.” She told me that Americans were most concerned with shortages of things like nylons and gas rather than the war. After the war they didn’t want to talk about it. Flo worried about the fate of Europeans, many of whom were homeless and starving, but Americans just wanted to move on.

Audie Murphy After the War

A Timeline of His Post-War Life

My Mother and Audie Murphy Chapter 119

He was a war hero—THE most decorated hero of World War Two—and that was his epithet, even as he became a Hollywood movie star with more than 40 movies to his credit.

What no one, and especially the US military, wanted to talk about was the degradation of his life because of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and, I would argue, chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE). Audie Murphy survived the war but not his invisible injuries.

To understand Audie Murphy’s post-war life, I’ve created a timeline that will help me explore the details in future posts.

Audie Murphy Post-War Timeline

My mother Flo’s famous picture of Audie when he was awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor in the field May 12, 1945

Chapter 120: https://mollymartin.blog/2026/09/01/back-home-depression-takes-over/

Flo Back Home in Yakima

My Mother and Audie Murphy Chapter 118

On this page of her album Flo attached icons from Northwest and United Airlines, pictures of herself and her mother at their home in Yakima and several newspaper articles. 

We Think Spokane is where Our Parents Met

Our parents told us kids that they met in the Spokane airport. They said Flo was ill and Carroll, our dad, helped her. But we never learned when this happened. My theory is that it was in April, 1946 when Flo flew back from Washington DC where she had been debriefed by the Red Cross. The United Airlines map on this page shows the flight going to Spokane, where she must have had to transfer to Northwest Airlines for the final leg to Yakima. Flo and Carroll carried on their relationship in Seattle where she moved in the fall of 1946. She worked for the publisher of the Seattle Times as a secretary. He worked at a gas station which was on her way as she walked to work. They married in November, 1947 and moved to Yakima.

The page from Flo’s album

Here are some excerpts and quotes from the news stories. It’s interesting that all the newspaper stories refer to Flo as a girl. One of the second wave feminist movement’s demands was that media stop infantilizing women. She was 32 when she returned from Europe.

Awarded the French Fourragère

“One Yakima girl is entitled to wear the fourragère awarded by France for distinguished service by an army unit. Miss Florence Wick as one of the four Red Cross girls attached to the Third Division was officially given the right to wear the coveted fourragère in full uniform. Certainly no one who knows of Miss Wick‘s work, which often led her to the firing line, will doubt in the least her right to the emblem of honor. Her friends are certain she was as gallant a soldier as any of her brothers in arms.”

Surprised at American Apathy

“Miss Florence Wick, who recently returned from overseas Red Cross service, is back home after a short stay in Seattle. Miss Wick is following the news of overseas needs with great interest but has no great faith of permanent peace in Europe under present conditions. She is, also, somewhat surprised at the seeming apathy with which world affairs are considered by most persons.”

Visited Families

She visited the town of Walla Walla to see the parents of two men that she was stationed with in Germany. (The men) are stationed at Bad Wildungen, and are expected to remain in Germany until late summer.

She Spoke Publicly About the War

She spoke to the Lions Club luncheon in the Commercial Hotel about “the combat history of the third infantry division that had the most casualties and fought the most battles. She celebrated the fall of Rome from a Roman villa amidst flabbergasted and excited Italians and VE day in the Salzburg Castle, where Hitler and Mussolini met near Brunner Pass. Describing the food situation on the continent as tragic when she left six weeks ago, Miss Wick told of people starving and of shelves bare of bread, soap, fat, oils, and sweets. The only food available, she said, was through the black market with a good meal costing $25 in Paris. Sweden and Belgium seem to have plenty, she pointed out, but the remainder of Europe is starving.”

She Stopped in DC to be Cleared

“She arrived Tuesday in New York. She telephoned her mother that she will go to Washington DC to be cleared by the Red Cross before leaving for her home here. She visited relatives in Sweden. 20 relatives from different parts of Sweden attended a reunion upon her arrival.”

Yakima Girl Returns With Four Battle Stars on Dress 

“Miss Wick served in artillery range during Vosges mountains fight. The slender vivacious, former Yakima business girl was one of four Red Cross workers who drove a clubmobile and served coffee and as many as 6000 donuts a day to weary dog faces and artillery men. They were with the rear echelon, lived in tents and were able to pack, take down their tents and move in 20 minutes when the army was on the go. Six GIs, battle fatigue cases, made the donuts which the four girls distributed.” 

The Only Division with a Presidential Citation

“We have lots of mosts in our division,” says Miss Wick, whose pride in the division is tremendous. “We even had the most casualties.” She added that is to be expected because the units were in some of the toughest fighting. “We were the only infantry division to have a presidential citation for the whole division.”

On V-E Day Sadness Mixed with Rejoicing

Miss Wick says (V-E Day) was quite exciting, of course, but “I don’t believe there was one person there who wasn’t thinking of the ones who weren’t there, the ones who made the victory possible. There was sadness mixed with rejoicing.”

What Was Germany Fighting For?

“’The German people had so much more than the other people in Europe, it made the Americans wonder what the Germans were fighting for.’ The Yakima girl says she earnestly believes all the Germans should be held morally responsible for the war. They certainly do not feel this, she says. They think they are just unfortunate to have lost the war. Miss Wick visited Dachau prison and Landsberg, where the Jewish concentration camp was and says stories of these horrors are not exaggerated.

“Switzerland and her mother‘s native Sweden, which Miss Wick visited on leave after hostility ceased, she found peaceful and beautiful, strangely so after the rubble and ruin of Italy, Germany, and France and the damage in England from the blitz.
“Among Miss Wick‘s most interesting souvenirs is a Gestapo camera, a machine about 2 1/2 inches long and an inch high and an inch wide. She has not yet decided upon her future plans although she could go either to Europe or the Pacific area with the war department if she wishes.”

Chapter 119: https://mollymartin.blog/2026/08/15/audie-murphy-after-the-war/

Catching Some Culture in NYC

My Mother and Audie Murphy chapter 117

Flo saw shows and friends in the Big Apple

Flo sailed into New York City at the end of March 1946, and she partook of as much culture as she could in a few short days. She saved the playbills from several shows. She heard music at Carnegie Hall, saw the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo at the City Center of Music and Drama, and caught a play at the Cort on Broadway.

I love this ad! Flo was a career girl.
Carnegie Hall lineup

She connected with a friend, Dr. Edward Dunlap, who was starting his medical practice at New York Hospital, and she included his announcement, a picture of the hospital, and a picture of him. He could have been someone she knew during the war, but there are no other pictures or mentions of him in the album.

Dr. Eddie, his announcement, and the New York Hospital on East 68th Street.

Did she see her lesbian girlfriend, Edna Lauterbach, while in New York? Probably, but there’s no mention of “Eddie.” They had seen a show together when Flo visited in 1941, so it’s likely they reconnected — or maybe their friendship had ended by this time. Edna was definitely smitten with Flo, and I can imagine that Flo may have felt uncomfortable in the situation. I wrote about their relationship after discovering love letters from Eddie saved in another scrapbook. https://mollymartin.blog/2016/09/03/my-mothers-lesbian-affair/

Chapter 118: https://mollymartin.blog/2026/08/08/flo-back-home-in-yakima/

On the Ship, Sailing into NY Harbor

Chapter 116 My Mother and Audie Murphy

Seeing Liberty: What Does the Statue Symbolize?

In Sweden, afternoon coffee is a daily ritual, and my grandmother Gerda carried the tradition with her to America. We often joined her at her tiny house in Yakima and later at her apartment in a senior housing complex across from the Presbyterian church.

As Grandma arranged homemade butter cookies on her little table and poured coffee into delicate cups, she reminisced about sailing into New York Harbor and seeing the Statue of Liberty for the first time in 1905. She had been herded toward the line marked Aliens. The statue, rising above the harbor, filled her with emotion. Forty-four years later, after returning from a visit to Sweden, she saw it again. This time she joined the line marked American Citizens.

Flo on the deck of the USAT George Washington crossing the Atlantic

For Gerda, the Statue of Liberty symbolized America’s welcome to immigrants.

“I could only think, This time I’m a citizen,” she said, tears welling in her eyes.

My mother, Flo, sailed into New York Harbor in 1946 as she returned from Europe after the war. For her, the statue carried different memories. It reminded her of enormous loss—her fiancé and many friends had been killed—but also of pride. She and her generation had fought fascism and prevailed.

“When I saw the Statue of Liberty, I thought about all the people who died in that war,” Flo said. “The Americans were fighting for democracy.”

Ship dinner menu for March 25, 1946

Her face crumpled. A tear rolled down her cheek. Soon both my mother and grandmother were crying. To me, it seemed almost hysterical.

Flo loved history and liked to imagine the future.

“Maybe by the turn of the twenty-first century,” she sniffled, “war will be history.”

Lounging on deck. It took the Geo Washington about ten days to sail from France to NYC

Both women were unabashed patriots. Flo flew the American flag every Fourth of July, though by the early 1970s she had also become deeply troubled by America’s conduct in Vietnam. Gerda proudly displayed both the American flag and the blue-and-yellow Swedish flag in her home. She liked to say that she had voted in every election open to women since becoming a citizen.

I was not a flag waver. I was a flag burner—metaphorically. I never actually set fire to a flag, but my brother and I once cut up an American flag to sew a shirt. It was illegal then; today it might pass as a right-wing fashion statement. To me the flag represented a country whose foreign policy included overthrowing democratically elected governments, assassinating foreign leaders, and installing compliant dictators.

A musician entertains the crowd of GIs on deck

I had never seen my grandmother cry before, but I had often seen my mother cry, usually over war. During the Vietnam War she would call me in tears, saying her generation had failed to end war and now the responsibility belonged to mine. She carried the suffering of the world on her shoulders.

I vowed never to be like her. I wouldn’t cry. Crying was weakness—or so the culture taught me. Men didn’t cry, and men held the power. I wanted to be like them.

That afternoon, what struck me as sentimental nostalgia repelled me. I had never sailed into New York Harbor and never would. When I looked at the Statue of Liberty, I didn’t see freedom. I saw the thousands of Southeast Asians killed in a war my country was waging, the millions of tons of bombs dropped on civilians, villages burned, children scarred by napalm.

A finger points to the sign on shore reading “Welcome Home. Well Done.”

Years later, I began to wonder whether my mother’s extraordinary empathy exacted a physical toll. She was repeatedly hospitalized with severe asthma attacks. The disease eventually killed her at seventy.

Later still, I came to believe that Flo had probably returned from the war with what we now recognize as PTSD. The government had little interest in acknowledging psychological trauma, even among combat veterans, much less civilian war workers like my mother.

In NY harbor the Transportation Corps sign reads “Welcome Home.”

Like so many Boomers, I had grown up with a parent emotionally wounded by war.

At the time, though, I understood none of that.

All I felt was embarrassment at her tears.

The Statue of Liberty had meant hope to my grandmother, sacrifice to my mother, and hypocrisy to me. It took me a while to understand that all three meanings could be true at once.

Now, when I see the statue and read the Emma Lazarus poem, I’m the one who’s crying. I still cry for the people we kill in endless needless wars, for the immigrats we imprison, murder and deport, and I cry for our democracy and all that we have lost.

Photo by Tom Coe on Unsplash
The famous inscription mounted inside the statue

To start at the beginning of this story: https://mollymartin.blog/2024/11/04/my-mother-and-audie-murphy/

Chapter 117: https://mollymartin.blog/2026/08/02/catching-some-culture-in-nyc/