Narrative for Roberta Ellison

Full Roberta Ellison Interview

Roberta Ellison was born in New York City on November 4, 1925. Her father was a salesman so the family moved several times before finally settling in Elmwood, Connecticut when she was around seven. This was their first time living in a house and having to worry about heat. "We were very excited about [moving] ... the neighbor ... had warmed things up for us and ... showed Dad how to build a fire in the fireplace." The only child in what she describes as a traditional family, she was sheltered from the harshest realities of the Depression and to some extent the Second World War. "Back in those days lots of those things were not discussed a great deal in front of children." Still, she says the Depression years were not easy and she knew at the time that despite her father's pay cuts, other families "were much harder hit" than hers.

Pearl Harbor was "alarming" and marked a "departure from our quiet kind of sheltered life." Her father "interpreted a lot of [what happened] to us, explaining the significance and about the fleet." She says, "the war did not impinge a lot when I was in high school." Yet even before Pearl Harbor she remembers "knitting like mad" to send clothing to Britain and after the Japanese attack was busy tending to the family's victory garden, registering people for ration cards and corresponding with GIs. "Everybody did something, there was a great, great feeling of unity."

Things began to change when she graduated from high school in 1943. At that time, Green Mountain College in Poultney, Vermont was desperate for students - almost all its men had left to enter the service. Roberta decided to attend college, and Green Mountain in particular, after a professor from there made a surprise visit to her home. To this day she doesn't know how he found her. As one of the few woman from her class going to college, she felt like a "pioneer." At Green Mountain she remained largely isolated from the war, except for her correspondence with GIs. Despite the censorship, "you really knew a lot about what your serviceman was doing, because I remember talking to them about that. I think now about the freedom with which we talked about that."

Travel was restricted, but she got glimpses of the war on the "memorable trips" sharing trains with GIs. "Many of the girls had brothers in the service, even fathers, and most of us were writing to servicemen, but this was a different kind of contact." Having no relatives in the service herself, she learned something of the personal loss of war by seeing gold stars in windows around her neighborhood and from her friends' experiences. "I remember going [to the movies] with Joan one time. Her brother Tim was in the service and [the newsreel] showed American servicemen wounded in Germany ... they were pretty startling shots ... and we had to get up and leave because Joan couldn't watch." A short time later Joan learned that her brother had been killed in the battle shown in the news.

In August, 1944 Roberta became engaged to one of her penpals and broke off correspondence with the others. "I just had to sign off. And one of those was a hard letter to write, but needed to be written." Her future husband was an old neighborhood friend and Soundman on a destroyer escort in the Atlantic, Mason Ellison. Engagement to Mason brought the war closer to Roberta and made it more personal. "I knew Mason was shipping to the Pacific. We elected not to be married at that time, although he had quite a long leave ... I think I just didn't feel ready, but when I got back to school I was terribly depressed. And I thought I made a real bad decision [not to marry]." Hearing about the death of some friends' relatives and seeing classmates getting married did not help. "I think the concern [for Mason] was part of my feeling of guilt in not having at least [married] ... I thought maybe that would have been appropriate, helpful, whatever ... I was really sunk thinking ... maybe he will never come back."

Roberta was "fortunate" though in that her fiancé returned, and in 1946 they married. She finished her degree along with Mason at Springfield College and became a teacher. She now wonders at how provincial her perspective was while in the midst of global conflict. The war "was an enlarging experience" but "not one of personal suffering ... My own life was amazingly unchanged except for the relationship with Mason ... It wasn't until much later I began to get a better world view and realize that what was happening to me was tragedy to many others ... We had no idea of the horror that had brought that about. We just didn't. Now I think, 'How could we have been so blind?'"

Excerpts from the Roberta Ellison Interview

[The war] made me a whole lot more aware of the world outside of Elmwood and my own small family. It made me much more aware of suffering. But a lot of that was through things I read afterwards. My own life was amazingly unchanged except for the relationship with Mason, which brought me in very close contact with the war but still only through him ... I guess the impression I have looking back on this is how really tunnel-visioned you can be when you are young.

When we came home on the few times that we were allowed, for instance Christmas, not Thanksgiving, there was a big meal there [because] we were advised not to go home. I remember riding the trains which were always packed with servicemen. We girls would sit on our suitcases in the aisles. The guys had the seats and ... many of them slept in the luggage racks. And sometimes you'd have a tired serviceman slumped over on your shoulder. [laughs] We would all talk and move around. The guys were very courteous. They were often too tired to do a lot of visiting. They had either been home or were going home. If they were going home they were excited, if they had been home, they were tired. But those were memorable trips because we got to talk to people who were actually in the service. Many of the girls had brothers in the service, even fathers, and most of us were writing to servicemen, but this was a different kind of contact.

I remember going to the movies with my friend Joan Kane. Our news of the war, this was in high school, [came from], of course, radio, and movies, and the news shorts before the movie. There you would see troop movements and so forth that were sent stateside so people could see what was happening. I remember going with Joan one time. Her brother Tim was in the service and it showed American servicemen wounded in Germany. It showed some barbed wire fences and they were pretty startling shots in the newsreel and we had to get up and leave because Joan couldn't watch. And later the word came that Tim had died of wounds in one of the battles nearby what we had seen. So, the war came close in those ways.

We had a big victory garden and my job was to keep it watered and weeded. And kill Japanese beetles that collected there. [laughs] Everybody did something, there was a great, great feeling of unity.

We couldn't travel a lot because that was prohibited. The space was needed for the servicemen home on leave. But we had lots of fun doing things [at school]. When we came home on the few times that we were allowed, for instance Christmas, not Thanksgiving, there was a big meal there [because] we were advised not to go home. I remember riding the trains which were always packed with servicemen. We girls would sit on our suitcases in the aisles. The guys had the seats and they also had the luggage racks, and many of them slept in the luggage racks. And sometimes you'd have a tired serviceman slumped over on your shoulder. [laughs]

those were memorable trips because we got to talk to people who were actually in the service. Many of the girls had brothers in the service, even fathers, and most of us were writing to servicemen, but this was a different kind of contact.

And after, Mason worked temporarily here also, the next fall, we both went to Springfield College and I was able to go too, because I had had two full years of college, so was able to transfer and was very fortunate; all of my credits transferred. I was also very fortunate because it was not a unified college at that time, it was an all men's college, so it was not co-ed. This is Springfield College in Springfield, Mass[achusetts]. So, if I had not been an upperclassman I could not have attended because no women were attending at that time, [only] a few graduate students. And [there were] only three women in our graduating class, of which I was one, so that was kind of a distinction!

They were very supportive, lots of them were writing to servicemen but in my second year there I was engaged. And I knew Mason was shipping to the Pacific. We elected not to be married at that time, although he had quite a long leave. And my mother told me afterwards she thought perhaps we would have chosen to [get married then]. I think I just didn't feel ready, but when I got back to school I was terribly depressed. And I thought I made a real bad decision.

It's surprising that during the war that even though the war touched us, there were many, many things I didn't know. When I read The Diary of Anne Frank for the first time ... I remember looking back and reading some things of the playwright Lillian Hellman and thinking, "Why didn't we know these things?" I think it was because so many things were kept from us. We would see the war in newsreels in the theater, but abruptly, they were short, and unless like my friend Joan you had some reason to be tremendously moved, you were quickly into the double feature of the day. You saw it, but it didn't claim your attention...

Everybody was expected to "wear it out, use it up, make it do." That was one of the mottoes. You didn't buy new things. I can remember knitting like mad, helping my mother, my grandmother, just before we were in war sending 'Bundles to Britain.' That was a big thing. We did a lot of that kind of thing. And everybody was sending boxes, whether you had a service man or you didn't. You were involved in sending things overseas. We would often write to servicemen. Trucks would go through on New Britain Avenue with Army personnel in these big troop trucks and they would throw addresses to the street. And we girls would scramble for the addresses.

[When the war ended] I remember thinking, my first thought, nothing about those that had died, the carnage, nothing but, "Mason's coming home." Fact one. That's right where my mind was. I remember jumping up in the restaurant...I think a lot of Americans felt the very same thing. We had no idea of the horror that had brought that about. We just didn't. Now I think, "How could we have been so blind?"...you translated everything in terms of how it would affect you personally. It wasn't until much later I began to get a better world view and realize that what was happening to me was tragedy to many others.