Everybody has a story: Private, first class, and a keeper, that letter from Grandpa

Pfc. Elwin Cashatt wrote a hasty note to his wife of five months, Mable, on Feb. 4, 1945, asking her to save a letter from his grandfather. He was waiting with his crew, after being sent to Hunter Field in Georgia, to pick up a B-17 airplane and go overseas to Italy in the final days of World War II.

“I am enclosing a letter from Grandpa that I would like to have you read and keep for me. I may want to read it again someday or read it to my children,” he wrote.

Elwin was moved by the letter. “I never knew my Grandpa could write a letter like that. He really said what he thinks and that it will be clearer to you what I have always had trouble seeing in Grandpa. Lots of folks think he is mean, but when you read this I don’t think there will even be a doubt in your mind about him.”

Elwin signed off as “your loving hubby.”

His grandfather, John Harden Lushbough, grew up poor and remained so most of his adult life. His father, Jeremiah, fought in the Civil War. J.H. moved his family many times to try to find better land to farm or work. He lived in a time of great technological change — owning a harness shop that went out of business and then opening the first gas station in town.

A great storyteller, J.H wrote a memoir in 1939 with no punctuation, few paragraphs and some capital letters. It took me months to sort out — and I found a treasure trove of stories. The letter to Elwin shows marked improvement over his earlier writing. He had an eighth-grade education and it still has errors, yet it captures his timeless view of what his grandson faced. (I made minor edits to make it readable).

J.H. wrote to Elwin on Jan. 22, 1945: “Well, we feel that your number has come up to go overseas, and we do surely hope you get there safely, for which your Grandma and I will be most thankful. The job ahead for you is a nasty one, but your assignment is responsible and different from anything that you have ever done or even planned. It is, however, a privilege as well, for only … the pick of the Nation’s man-hood are eligible to march with Uncle Sam’s armed citizens and participate in this grim game of war against the forces which would destroy civilizations, Christianity and freedom.

“Now as you go with millions of other sons from our American homes, I hope you will put your very best into your assignments in this war. It matters not whether you ever wear stripes, bars, or even stars, if you are man enough to be a good soldier. Being a good soldier means more than drilling and fighting; or even dying. It means living as a man should Live. Too many of our men lower their standard of morals and go the limit. You are now on your own and the choice is yours. Don’t Do It Elwin.

“Perhaps you will recall when you used to help around the gas station that I told you if you were going to help me repair tires, that I want you to be the best tire fixer in town. Then when you got in school and on the basketball team I want you to be the best player on the team, not just to win, but play the game doing your best. And that kind of aiming never has a bad effect on your score, I don’t believe.”

J.H. recalled his son’s service in World War I: “We well remember the days when Elmer [Lushbough], too wore the uniform of an American soldier. Little did we think or realize that within twenty-five years you, our grandson would be wearing the same kind of uniform for the same cause. When you have a son of your own someday, as we hope you will, you will know just what we mean. May the good lord watch over and keep you and those serving with you until the day of peace and a safe homecoming. Good luck Elwin and write often. With Love. Grandma and Grandpa.”

Elwin had enlisted in the Army Air Corps and, after finishing high school, reported for basic training in Amarillo, Texas, in May 1944. Training was hard, but he was sure he did not want to fight the war with a pack on his back. He was still in training when D-Day occurred in June. He did not see how the war could last long enough for him to see any action. After basic training, Elwin trained to become a B-17 tail gunner.

He was given a 15- day leave before reporting for duty. During his leave, he married his high school sweetheart, Mable Starks. They had a four-day honeymoon.

Elwin flew seven missions in the final days of the war. On one mission his plane was hit and lost two engines. His escort out of enemy territory was the Tuskegee Airmen in P-51s. “They were great pilots to have around when you came back alone,” he wrote.

Mable and Elwin were my parents. After they died, we discovered the letter pasted in a scrapbook Mable kept of their early years. We are now sharing the letter with their grandchildren and great grandchildren. The messages of doing your best in all circumstances and serving and loving your country still resonate today.

Everybody Has a Story welcomes nonfiction contributions, 1,000 words maximum, and relevant photographs. Email is the best way to send materials so we don’t have to retype your words or borrow original photos. Send to: neighbors@columbian.com or P.O. Box 180, Vancouver WA, 98666. Call “Everybody Has an Editor” Scott Hewitt, 360-735-4525, with questions.