My Grandparents’ WWII Love Story by Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy
She was a widow with four children, ages sixteen to three, struggling to make ends meet after losing her husband in 1943. Edna Neely had grown up in a fine house, with a fur coat, and her own car at 16 but her world crashed when the stock market did. Everything was liquidated to pay her father’s debts when the banks failed.
He was a farmer, older than the average soldier, and the “kids” serving in his unit called him Pop. Until he joined the Army, because he didn’t wait to be drafted, Claude Roberts lived near the small farming community of Fillmore, Missouri. Fillmore has fat farmland; fertile fields raise some of the state’s finest corn and soybeans. Surrounding farms produce cattle and hogs for the livestock market. In my grandfather’s day, nearby St. Joseph, MO still ranked as the third largest packing site in the nation. He came from a large family but my grandmother was an only child.
After she married, my grandmother found a lifelong best friend in neighbor Margie Violett. The two young woman both had young children at home. They bonded over recipes, shared neighborhood gossip, and the age-old effort to understand the men they married.
After my grandmother was widowed, she joined the war effort. She volunteered her time at a local USO canteen and even though she hadn’t planned to find another husband, she was soon dating young men stationed at Rosecrans Field, an Army Air Corps based nearby. More than one proposed marriage but she declined, satisfied with her children and life.
Several of her cousins were away serving in the war and she wrote letters to each of them. When Margie suggested she add her Uncle Claude to her pen pal list, she did. Edna and Claude wrote numerous letters. She detailed her everyday life on the home front and he shared what he could of Army life in the Pacific Theater of war.
Despite the differences in location and background — she was raised in the shadow of the Missouri Capitol in Jefferson City, Missouri and he came from an Andrew County farm – they found common interests. My great-grandmother, Edna’s mother, also hailed from the Fillmore area. They poured out their hearts about music, life, and fell in love by letter.
When V-J Day came, the war ended and Claude would be coming home. They wrote about meeting in person but my grandmother never expected it to play out the way it did.
She woke up one winter morning to find a man, rolled up in his overcoat against the cold, on the porch asleep. It turned out to be Claude. When he’d gotten as far as St. Joe, he headed for the address he knew from the letters but since it was late at night, he decided to wait until morning. By the time my grandmother opened the door, he was nearly frozen.
Grandma invited him in, served him breakfast, and fell the rest of the way in love. They married a few months later and he became one of the best grandpas a child could have.
That’ s a real life love story. I write romance, from sweet to heat but I often draw on actual inspiration from my long relationship with my late husband or other family tales.

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