Lory  Curtis

Ben,
    This Sunday is Mother's Day, and I wanted to post on mailcall my
Dad's letter to his mother on May 14, 1944, just before the 517th
deployed overseas.  I think his letter is very poignant and reflects
what I think every trooper in the 517th was thinking about their
mothers.  Also included is the 517th Mother's Day poem written by
Chaplain Robert Kearn at Camp Toccoa May 6, 1943.  May all the mothers
have a very happy Mother's Day this year.

Lory Curtis, son of Bud Curtis, HQ, 1st BN



Letter to Mom from Harland L. Curtis
Somewhere on the east coast
Mother’s Day, May 14, 1944
Headquarters, First Battalion


Dear Mom,
    I have been trying to get a call through to you all evening, but
it is now 2:30 am and there is still over 4-hour delay, so I guess I
won’t be able to talk to you.  Everybody in the services must be
calling home because it is Mother’s Day, but there will be a lot who
won’t be so lucky like me.  I sure wish that I could talk to all of
you again, because I won’t be able to write for a while after
tomorrow.  Military reasons and stuff, but as soon as I can write again
I will let you know as much as I am allowed to.  Please don’t worry
about me will you!  There are a lot of things that I would like to say,
but I can’t.  I guess I explained most everything in my letters I
wrote at Camp Mackall though.  Maybe next Mother’s day I will be home
again.  Let’s hope for the best anyway.  I am not so good at saying a
lot of pretty things and stuff, but you are the best mother in the world
and I love you very much.  It is much easier to feel it inside of me
than to write it on paper.  I think you understand.  No matter where I
go, what I do, or how long it might be that you don’t hear from me,
just always remember how much I love you and it won’t be very long
until I will be home again and in a couple of days you will forget I was
ever gone.
    I would hate to think that any of my off springs will ever have
to see any part of a war so I will be doing my best to see that things
will be different by then.  Enough of this talk.  I feel like I am
waving a flag or something, so I will say so long for a while.
    Lots of love to all of you,
    Your son Bud

Poem from Chaplain Kearn, May 6, 1943, 517th Parachute Infantry


Mother of Mine

God's fingers painted the dawning
    And traced all the silver there,
But dearer to me is the silver
    He laid on my Mother's hair

Ah sweet is the light on the waters
and blue are the summer skies;
But sweater and deeper the love-light
    That shines in my Mother's eye

The sun sparkles bright on the dew-drops
    That lie in the rose's vase,
But Heaven's own beauty awakens
    In the smile on my Mother's face.

Oh God, the works of thy finger
    Are wondrous and so Divine;
But this is the earth's rarest beauty ---

That wonderful MOTHER OF MINE!


Rev. Robert Kearn, C.SS.R.
         (Chaplain overseas)