Home Front # 2

On The Home Front #2

Some goods had a luxury tax tagged onto them. Leather, fur, nylon, cosmetics, jewelry and many other items considered luxury by the government were not only scarce but, with the added 10% tax, cost considerably more than their worth. Black Markets flourished. Anything could be bought for a price. I remember hearing about people who paid exorbitant prices for scarce items they wanted. I don’t know where the people who sold these items got them. No one asked.

As a teenager during the war, Dorothy missed the niceties young girl's desire. She hoarded her one tube of lipstick like it was gold. When she didn’t have nylon stockings, she smeared her lower legs with leg make-up and drew a seam up the back of her calf with an eye brow pencil. 
      

Dorothy graduated high school in 1944 but didn’t have a prom. Many schools discontinued the prom during the war years. There weren’t enough young men to escort the girls. A popular song during this time lamented the shortage of men. The lyrics went like this.

            “They’re either too young or too old.           

            They’re either too gray or too grassy green.

            The pickings are poor and the crop is lean.

            What’s good is in the army,

            What’s left will never harm me.”

            Almost every home hung a one foot square flag in the window. Most had blue stars emblazoned on a white background trimmed with red. Some had two, three or more stars; each represented a family member in the armed forces. Some families had all their sons in service. Occasionally a gold star took prominence in the center of the flag. It stood for a son who made the ultimate sacrifice. As the war continued on, more gold stars appeared. At times, a black wreath adorned the door of the grieving family.

            Dorothy wrote to a few service men, mostly with V-mail, a shortened letter on one page that went through mail censors before being photographed and transported as thumbnail-sized image in negative microfilm. Upon arrival to their destination, the negatives would be blown up to 60% their original size and printed. The 37 mail bags required to carry 150,000 one-page letters could be replaced by a single mail sack. The weight of that same amount of mail was reduced dramatically from 2,575 pounds to a mere 45. This saved considerable weight and bulk in a time in which both were hard to manage in a theater of the war.

            The post office encouraged V-mail to the boys overseas. Some of their letters back home arrived with cut out words, phrases or sometimes whole sentences, making it difficult to read. The censors monitored every piece of mail to make sure no information could be leaked to the enemy. Slogans abounded in newspapers and magazines reminding the public to watch what they said in case a spy might be listening. “Loose lips sink ships.” 

            One of Dorothy’s beaux sent a picture of himself in Navy uniform. I thought he was the most handsome guy I ever saw. I stole his picture and hid it under my pillow. I prayed for the safety of my secret sailor, Jimmy Mullholl.

            Every skirt or blouse I wore was either nine years out of date, a direct hand-me-down from my sister, or home made clothing sewn on Mama’s sewing machine. I often saw Mama hunched over the Singer, her fingers guiding the cloth, her foot pumping a rhythmic beat on the treadle. She bought remnants from the fabric stores on the lower east side of Manhattan. She once heard that Jewish merchants don’t like to lose the first customer of the day, so she made a point of going to their stores early on Sunday morning. After the store had been closed on Saturday for the Sabbath, the merchant, eager to make a sale on Sunday, became willing to lower the tagged price. Mama loved to haggle for a bargain.

            Mama bought my shoes a half size too big so “I could grow into them.” Wearing the same shoes every day eventually wore a hole in the bottom. If the cobbler had leather, the shoes could be resoled. Many times, Daddy cut pieces of cardboard to fit inside the shoes to keep my feet off the pavement. When the cardboard wore out, as it did very quickly, Daddy cut more, until we could have the shoes resoled.

....to be continued