Gas Rationing
July 1944Dearest Reader,
In 1944, gasoline rationing had become an accepted part of American life. Every driver carried a small ration book, and a lettered windshield sticker determined how much fuel they were permitted each week.
For most families, like my mother’s, the driver had an A-ration card, the most common classification in the country. It allowed only three gallons of gasoline per week, just enough for commuting to work, church and necessary errands.
Cars of the early 1940s were not fuel-efficient, often getting 10 to 15 miles per gallon so a few gallons a week disappeared quickly. In one of her letters, my mother captured the reality of that time:
“If we go too far, I guess it will have to stay here til after the war when there is plenty of gas.”
This sentence reflects the common reality that was felt by millions of Americans. Many families walked or relied on infrequent buses and leisure travel was not common. Rationing gave families a shared sense of sacrifice. My mother’s comment captures this time when Americans lived within wartime limits and waited for a future “when there is plenty of gas”.
Dr. Nancy Watson
Rambling With Nan
Washington
Read More From Nancy
Restricted Rails
My parents were married in May of 1944 while my father was home on furlough, a brief pause in the turmoil of a world at war. The letters they left behind include tender notes between two young newlyweds and the steady, pleading correspondence from my grandmother to her only son. These letters form an intimate […]
Convalescent Hospital
In July of 1944, letters to my father were addressed to Fort George Wright Hospital in Spokane Washington. Fort George Wright Hospital in 1944 was a key convalescent and rehabilitation facility for the US Army servicemen. Fort George was a US post established beginning in the late 1890s. The hospital was built on-site in 1898 […]
Suspended Oaths: Germans and Italians
In a letter dated December 13, 1941, just six days after the attack on Pearl Harbor, my grandmother recorded how quickly the war reached into ordinary lives. My father was living in Saginaw, Michigan at the time, having just turned twenty-one, and the country was still reeling from the shock of December 7. The United […]