Jun 21, 2009 6 min read

(Editor’s note: This letter was written Nov. 4, 1944 from a foxhole along a front line in Germany during World War II by Mickey Kanche to his son, John Kanche, who now lives in Uniontown. Mickey joined the Army with his four brothers shortly after Pearl Harbor. ) Dear Son, You and I aren’t very well acquainted, so this is more or less an introductory letter.

John someone once said, “war is hell.” Whoever that was surely knew what he was saying, for it’s just that. It is a great waste of man, material, energy, brains and time. At this time I’m at the front somewhere in Germany. I haven’t seen you son, for possibly nine months. Your mother was with me for a short time in New York. Your sister waved goodbye as I left, you were a bit too young.

I shall try to give you some fatherly advice in these few pages, something I lacked and missed. The Army is a pretty rough place to be, the life is rough, you’re in the weather all the time, sometimes, you haven’t very much to eat, you sleep on the ground nearly all the time. You can imagine what the lavatory facilities are in the field. It’s very difficult to explain Son the only word that touches it lightly is horrible.

Next you have the Air Corps, their life is more exciting, only it’s not good on the nervous system, and the thought of diving to death in flames always horrifies a person. Next you have the Navy, a watery grave is always the thought of the Navy. Their life is a bit cleaner. They have water to wash and drink, you usually have food and a place to sleep. Preferably I’ll take the Navy, but I pray and always shall that there never is another war. I’m afraid that prayer will never be answered. There probably will always be wars, because the people in the world are greedy. John, never be greedy and always treat people like you want to be treated. Always try to do what you think is right. Be helpful to humanity. Be just and honest.

Your wonderful mother wanted to be a nurse until I changed her plans and I always had great respect for people of medicine, especially surgeons. You may have inherited some of our traits, if so Son, make the most of it. I hope you like medicine or rather I pray and hope you are medically minded. You may want to be a doctor some day. If you ever are, treat all people the same, rich or poor. I came from a poor family but am very proud of every member of it. Be good to your mother and sister, they are of the same blood and it’s thick.

Be good to your God. Over here one learns that he is ones’ best friend. You live very close to God over here. There is death all around you. It’s nothing to be feared if you are at peace with your maker. I am not afraid to die. Naturally, no one wants to die. I want to return to you, your sister and mother. Only God has the power to see that I do come back. If he sees fit for me not to, death will be welcome. May my faith be always such. I’ve seen men who thought they were tough come to tears. I have been scared so many times.

When one day you face the world, try to remember the things the sisters taught you. Be careful in selecting your vocation, lest you pick on something you may not like later. Listen to everyone’s opinion, take everyone’s advice, then use your own judgment. You carry the name of Kanche, it’s just an ordinary name. No one by that name has ever done anything spectacular, but all the carriers of Kanche hve been very proud of it. I’m sure you shall never disgrace it. Some day you shall read this, I hope I’m there to laugh, possibly I will, only God has the answer.

John, you have four of the best uncles a boy could have, take advantage of them, if I’m not around. I mean get acquainted with them, they’re regular. Bill H. is your oldest, he can teach you how to use a wrench, Jim comes next, he must have a good shooting eye, he will tell you how to shoot straight, in more ways than one. Then comes Joe, he should know plenty about radio. At last but not least, “Billy the kid.” He can teach you all about women, hunting and fishing and will probably throw in jitter bugging to boot. So there you can learn more than I could be able to teach you.

You were named after an uncle who should have taught you to play golf and many other things too. He and I were great pals. So you can easily see, John, that you come from good stock.

There is no obstacle that you can’t overcome. Whatever you set your mind to do, don’t be stopped by anything. That’s determination. I hope you don’t inherit my bull-headedness, but your mother’s sweet patience. It’s a great virtue.

By now, you should be wondering what this letter is all about. Well John, when you are able to read these pages, they probably will be yellow, I’m sure your mother has saved them for you. It’s a way for me to say I miss you John and your sister and mother.

I’d like to be home telling and teaching you what I’ve made a poor attempt to do on these pages. If you get any good from this at all, it will have not been written in vain. I’m not sure if we shall ever be together, though I pray for it. This is a lonesome father’s way of saying he misses his son.

One more thing John, and probably the most important. You will one day choose for yourself a mate. Get your mother’s approval first please!

I hope you do as well as I did. God bless you John, Johanna and my sweetheart wife. I love you all with all my heart.

Your devoted dad and husband

Mickey

P.S. Mickey survived the war, returning home to help raise his five children. He was described by his son, John, as a “great dad.” He died four years ago at the age of 89.