My Grandfather, Willis K. Nash, died when I was seven years old. On my 21st birthday, I received a posthumous letter from him written about 3 months after I was born:
Sept 5 - 1949
Dear Willis -
During the War your father did much important and dangerous service for his country.
He was an air pilot and in his duties flew all over the world.
I have been very proud of his records.
I have preserved one of his letters which gives some idea of his work. I am giving this to you and hope that you will prize it.
Sincerely Willis K Nash (sic)
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Dec 8 - 1942
Dear Daddy -
I was disappointed in your letter regarding my "crash" landing as you put it. In the first place it was not a "crash" landing. It was a forced landing and a very pretty one too - nothing crash about it.
As far as my job is concerned there are some things you might as well know. Whatever I do in this war I'm going to fly as long as they let me because (1) they need pilots badly (2) I happened to be trained as a pilot (3) I like to fly. The job of flying we do here is no more dangerous than any other type of service flying and certainly far less dangerous than overseas combat flying.
As for my responsibility to my family I used to feel the same as you do - that the dangerous jobs should be done by the young and single. Since then, however, this was has become a serious proposition. There are going to be more dangerous jobs than there are young and single men to fill them. The army knows that and if you could see the bald and grey heads among the trainees here at the Air Force training center you'd know that this is no longer a young man's war. If I got out of flying I'd more than likely get into something more dangerous and much more distasteful, because I'd go in the Army, and I never heard of the Army guaranteeing you a safe job.
I'll admit that I get the hell scared out of me here quite often - which is no fun, but I'm going to continue flying, here or elsewhere, as long as I'm able. There are millions of scared people in the world today and I don't recall ever being told that I have special permission to sit this war out. And, if I've got something coming to me, I'll take it in an airplane rather than on the ground - anytime.
This thing has been written in an awful hurry and may seem kind of confused to you. My feelings are not. I know you will understand them. Lots of love - and try to come down and see me.
Fred (sic)