These letters are part of a large collection of personal narratives written during World War Two, the bulk of them from members of the class of 1939, addressed to and collected by members of the Dartmouth community, including President Hopkins, Herbert Faulkner West 1922, Harold Goddard Rugg 1906, Maud French and James Moreau Brown 1939. The entire collection is available for viewing in Rauner Library.

Click on each image to see the entire letter.

Paul Caravatt's October 1943 letter to Associate Librarian Harold Goddard Rugg

Dear Harold,

Yes, I'm in Colorado. I am now attending Colorado School of Mines. It is under the Army Specialized Training Program now, but they do have a few civilians.

We take seven subjects, a total of 26 hours a week, and then have 23 hours of study hall. It isn't too bad, but it does not compare in the least to Dartmouth, but then I guess every Dartmouth man gets prejudiced once he's been there. I still contend I'm going back after the war.

To hear Paul's interview: Paul Caravatt

John Gustafson's August 1945 letter to Associate Librarian Harold Goddard Rugg

Dear Mr. Rugg,

This letter is a little late in getting off, but I hope you will excuse the delay.  I wish I had some way I could properly show you the appreciation I feel for the wonderful hospitality you showed to me on my recent visit to Hanover.  I can truthfully say that it was the most enjoyable part of my whole leave.  My heart and soul are with Dartmouth wherever I may be, as it is with the majority of Dartmouth men all over the world.  To be able to get back for a few days was ample reward for the nine months spent away learning the art of war and going through the paces for the Marine Corps....

To hear John's interview: John Gustafson

Harry Hampton's February 1945 letter to President Hopkins

Dear President Hopkins:

In some small way, and very hastily, I would like to express my personal gratitude for your greetings to Dartmouth Men in the Armed Services.

Tonight, here on the western bank of the Roer River, planes have been passing overhead for a full thirty minutes on their way to blast the Reich.  Buzz bombs and Screaming Mimis make futile, but bothersome replies.  In this blasted out German farmhouse, where I am seated among men of my platoon, it's good to know that somewhere, somehow, somebody is pointing us out from this immense and deadly struggle to say a personal "hello" to us as men of Dartmouth...

To hear Harry's interview: Harry Hampton

Malcolm McLane's June 1945 letter to his family

Dear Clan,

It's three o'clock, Tuesday morning, June 6, 1944.  Someone is shaking you in your blanket roll, but you're too sleepy to get up for you didn't get to bed until midnight and it was after one before the talking quieted down and you got to sleep.  Then the bright light goes on in your face, and you remember what you were told in that three-hour long, secret briefing last night, "Today is D-Day!"

You tumble out as best you can, put on extra socks and heavy shoes from force of habit, for some day you have to walk back.  There's some hot coffee and an egg in the mess tent, then you pile into jeeps and trucks and hurry to the line, where the ground crews have already been warming up the planes....

To hear Malcolm's interview: Malcolm McLane