What I know of my father, this young man with the All-American smile, comes from a large stack of letters, and an album compiled by my mother. My research broadens facts into a definite composite of the father whom I never knew:

Peter Whelan, said by family and friends to be a sincere, great guy, was graduated at the top of his high school class. His voice was true and rich, so he sang solo in his church choir. He could fix anything. A gift for the written word was his. This talent is reflected in his touchingly beautiful and descriptive letters to my mother, posted from overseas.

Before enlistment, my father attended the University of Notre Dame, then began a career in banking. After enlisting in the Army Air Corps, he was sent in the spring of l942, to O.C.S. at Miami Beach. Upon earning his commission, he married his true love, Nan, my mother, on August 28, 1942.

By all accounts, my mother and father were similar emotionally, intellectually and even spiritually. A great match. He wrote upon his card to her on one occasion: "To the only girl I ever want to love."

My father's overseas orders came at the end of l942. By January of l943, he was in North Africa. My mother returned home to wait for him. She also awaited my birth, which was to come in July of l943.

The letters began, and the rest of the story unfolds... a continued romance over the miles and across the ocean. Through the letters, I trace his route through North Africa, Sicily, Italy, England, Corsica, and southern France. The letters give witness to his determination, humor, character, optimism, and deep love for my mother. And through written words, very subtle references to the reality, horror and destruction of war, are nonetheless obvious to the latter-day reader.

While overseas, he received word that his father died. Three months later, in July of l943, he had news that his baby was born. Sorrow, joy...so far away from home, as History unfolded before him:

My father saw the triumphal visit of King George VI in North Africa. He endured the terror of the Salerno Invasion in September, l943. There he and members of his Group were pinned down near the beach trying to reach an airbase. He witnessed preparations for D-Day, for he was sent on Detached Service to England in late April, l944 (The goal was to train him for the Invasion, so he could return to his Group in Italy, then give instruction, in preparation for a similar Invasion of southern France). Rejoining his Group in Italy, in June of l944, he saw the Liberation of Rome. He was present at a huge audience for Pope Pius XII. And now I know that William ("Billy") Wyler filmed the 27th Group in Corsica as they readied for Invasion of southern France, August l5, l944.

On the final morning of his life, my father flew aboard a B-25D, along with fourteen other young men, to reach a new airfield captured a few days before from fleeing Germans. Surrounding the field was a range of cliff-like mountains, shrouded in dense clouds.

According to the crash report, the pilot had radioed a message to the tower (sent in code) warning that the plane was coming in on just one engine. It was to be an emergency landing. And mountain-top visibility within the clouds was estimated "not over fifty feet and about a hundred yards." Striking its crest, the plane rose to smash the roof of a small chapel. There were no survivors.

H.H. "Hap" Arnold, Commanding General, A.A.F. wrote on Oct. 26, l944:

"...My attention has been called to the excellent reputation Lieutenant Whelan had...and to the high standard of his performance. His many comrades, who liked him for his upright character and genial disposition, share in your bereavement....your husband was a competent officer who unselfishly gave his best for our cause..."

H.H. Arnold, General, Army Air Forces

Captain John B. Bell wrote on Oct.23, 1944:

...."The chaplain has details of locating his beloved body, and his soul, without a shadow of a doubt, rests with the angels...Pete was too good to live...he is the cleanest and purest person who ever breathed a breath...No more wars for him and I wish I knew of some way to console his loving and devoted wife and baby...I am an admirer of his clean morals and I wish I could be 1/10th the man he is. He shall live forever...Congratulations for any mother to have a son like him. The entire group bereaves his loss and joins me in extending the very deepest and most profound feeling of hurt so deep that we shall never find another Pete. We know how much more he means to his blood and kin...Believe me when I say we grieve with you."

One of Pete's best friends,
Captain John B. Bell, A.C.

Russell Brooks, American Consul in Lyon, wrote September l9, l945:

"..a very small..village..but its inhabitants unanimously decided to give these dead an honorable burial and to commemorate their names at the scene... plaque was unveiled on September l6, l945...above it, a large banner bearing the words 'Thank-you, United States'..It is with greatest sympathy and understanding that I have again recalled to you the tragic death of your husband, but I could not let the occasion pass without also bringing to your attention the fact that the heart of France and its love for the United States are still strong..."

Very truly yours,


Russell Brooks American Consul

ore recently, on February 17, 1998, Ralph "Klink" Klinger wrote:

"You can tell your children that Lt. Peter Whelan was one of THE finest officers this Pennsylvania Dutchman ever served under.. he and I were on many a scary trip together..."

Good luck and God bless,


"Klink"

In his memory, and close to my heart, always....