I don’t ever want to see another uniform.

Grant Willard's father, William D. Willard (1867-1952), went into business with his father in Mankato in the 1880s, first as manager of the Mankato Linseed Oil, and then vice president of the Mankato Knitting mills. Around 1901 he entered the banking business when he became cashier of the First National Bank. He remained as a cashier until 1924 when he was appointed vice president. He was vice president until 1940 and until his death was a director of the bank.

W.D. proposed that Grant take a position at the First National Bank after his return from duty. His eldest son seemed open to this idea, but for whatever reason it did not come to pass. Whether due to pressure from his future wife, Dorothy, or a desire to make his own mark on the world, or something else, Grant eventually turned down his dad's proposal to go into "the family business." He became a securities salesman, a profession that would prove to be problematic during the Great Depression.

Convois Autos.,
S.S.U. 647,
Par B.C.M.,
France.

Bad-Kreuznach, Germany,

December 16, 1918

Dearest Dad:-

Yours of November 22 with enclosures has been duly received. I will try to write you an answer to your proposition though I feel as helpless and foreign now in regard to such propositions as I did when you first mentioned the matter in a letter received several months ago. I don’t believe you can imagine just how far away from old ways of thinking and living I have been these past two years. It’s just like a man being suddenly awakened in the early morning and being rushed off to a foreign land away from home, friends – everything with which he was beginning to become familiar – and having to start all over again under entirely different circumstances, when he has finally waked and washed out his eyes.

I have read your letters and the enclosed clippings and have tried to understand them as I used to but this new life has so occupied every minute of my time that, frankly, I don’t believe the “doings” of significance on your side of the water have sunk very deeply nor have they left much of an impression on my mind. So don’t you see, Daddie, it’s awfully hard for me to make a decision, in these matters which is going to effect my whole future life as well as Dot’s? The same thing holds true from your point of view. You have changed, your business has changed, all America has changed – no doubt. In view of all these changes you don’t know that I am the you want any more than I know that I’m the man for the job. From what you told me in your letter and from what I already knew of your business I had rather come into your Bank and Trust Co. than anything else, I know of. I’m ready to leave this country tonight and start working with you tomorrow, but the government says “nichts.” The only thing I don’t like about the whole proposition is the coming in and coming up as your son. If I can’t do it on my own worth and value to the institution I had rather not do it at all. I suppose I shall have to be taken in as your son because I have not left sufficient record to make me eligible without you but will the rest of it be left to me? You understand, don’t you, Dad? I’m not casting you off. It’s not lack of appreciation for what you have done for me but rather the appreciation, itself. I don’t want to be pulled along. I’ve gone through almost two years of ambulance driving on this side and haven’t been towed yet. No more do I want to be towed through life in the future.

I like your proposition for several reasons. 1st, because I like the business and, from what I know now, would like to make it mine. 2nd, because I had rather be a big toad in a little pond than a small toad in a lake or an ocean. 3rd, because by staying with Wells-Dickey I can’t see a bigger future than you offer me. I like the Wells-Dickey firm very much indeed – I like their business and I like their personnel. However, I don’t like being a salesman nor a buyer (I would prefer the latter of the two) and I can’t see where else I would be led if I stayed with them unless it would be in further preparation for some such opportunity as you have already offered me.

There is another thing, too, which has bothered me somewhat and which I must tell you. Dot has been born and raised on the outskirts of a big city. She would prefer living in a bigger city than Mankato. She wants me to locate definitely in the east. But I’m willing to gamble on our being able to make her happy in Mankato. You probably ran up against the same proposition once yourself, didn’t you Dad? You won out and I think I can. I’m more than willing to make the attempt.

Is my answer to your proposition definite enough for the time being? I am writing Mr. Wells tonight telling him approximately what I have told you. Your two letters have made me feel better than I have felt in the last two years because they have meant that there is still a place for me back home and will be no matter how long we are held over here. 

Your draft for 250 francs of Nov. 6 and of Nov. 22 for 300 francs have been very gratefully received. I will send them into Morgan & Harjes and Cie to be held for me there. Please thank Rob and Beatrice and Geo. and Julie Baldwin for me until I have time to write them.

Castles on the Rhine, 2010

I wish I could give you some definite information regarding our status over here. Our plans are only made for the day ahead. Tomorrow we move to Mayence or Mainz on the Rhine. That’s exactly all I can tell you. Rumors have come that one load of S.S.U. men will return to the States in March and another in June. If I had my say we would all leave tonight. We are useless as an organization up here with the French. They don’t need us nor do they want us. They are enduring us, I think, merely as a favor in view of our services with the French armies. I think every American should have been kept out of this occupation business and let the countries who really know how to handle this situation fix things up. We Americans don’t understand what it’s all about. We can’t begin to know the German as do the French and English. I’m afraid we would make an awful mess of this thing if we were left to settle the whole thing. We have helped whip a world pest. This is our only direct benefit from the war. Therefore what right have we got over here now. The French are beginning to resent our being here at this time and will resent it more the longer we stay over here and the more we butt into what is rightfully theirs. I know you can’t understand this but I think you could if you were in my position.

Our Xmas dinner will probably be eaten somewhere along the Rhine. I shall be thinking of you all then as I am now – as I have never thought before. I surely do want to get out of this country. And, Dad, even if I can get discharged over here I don’t believe I shall want to tarry on the way home. I should like to travel over here when there is no sign of war and the effects of war. That can’t be done now nor for many years to come. I don’t ever want to see another uniform.

Good night.

With love,
Grant.