December 1943

You are the fairy tale told by your ancestors.

― Toba Beta

Think you have it rough this Christmas, snowflake?

Our forebears had it rougher.

I wouldn't trade all of 2020 for a day during 1943.

In December of that year, a planetary war was raging and America was "in the midst of fully mobilizing," says archivist Kevin Thomas.

"For families looking forward to celebrating, if such a sensation were practicable, the resources to do so were as strained as they would be for the entire war—both materially and emotionally."

In December 1943, Thomas notes, the buildup to D-Day was in full force. Americans heard the president on the radio on Christmas Eve announce that General Eisenhower would lead the invasion.

Around the country, Americans not in uniform competed for jobs and housing. Paychecks were frozen. Inflation was rampant. Unions were striking and Blacks rioting. The government had to nationalize the railroads and coal mines to assure their operation. And women had to go to work full time in shipyards and tank factories.

In December 1943, you had to use stamps to buy meat, coffee, bread and butter—and you couldn't buy a new pair of shoes, an icebox, tires, or a car. 

Often you ate meatless dinners from your Victory Garden, and your Christmas dinner likely came from a box of Kraft Mac & Cheese. You didn't dare drive anywhere for the holidays—there was no gas, your tires were bald, and the cops were on the lookout for "nonessential travelers." 

If you had any money and wanted to give someone a Christmas gift, it was likely going to be a war bond.

But you knew you had it a lot better than the millions of Americans in uniform stationed overseas—particularly those in the combat theaters.

Above: Freedom from Fear, Norman Rockwell. 1943.