Back then, Marie and Bill were high school sweethearts turned newlyweds living in the recently built married-housing at Fort Devens in an apartment the size of a tool shed. ‘Bride’s Barracks’ as they were called. World War II had just ended and in the war’s aftermath Bill had been determined to sign on with Uncle Sam and serve in honor of lost friends. 

Marie had been just as single-minded to be with Bill. No one could tell them otherwise and threats of disinheritance fell on deaf ears. They only had each other and they couldn’t have been happier. They couldn’t have been poorer either, barely scraping by and practically needing to take a loan every time a shoelace broke.

But, Marie ‘made do’. Actually, she discovered she was pretty talented in the art of frugality, which was a good thing since about six months after their wedding, Marie unexpectedly found herself expecting. Now they would have to manage with even less as they saved for the baby’s arrival. Marie learned to cook and sew and crochet and stretched her grocery budget further and further while she watched her waistline do the same. 

Bill was a sport, too. After a long day of training maneuvers, he never complained as he surrendered his paycheck to her in exchange for watered-down tuna casseroles, bready meatloaves and canned vegetables waxy enough to polish furniture. Bill even sacrificed his beer budget to the cause.

As the day of their first anniversary drew near with the baby’s due date following soon thereafter, Marie approached Bill to have an honest discussion about their finances. Cash was scarce. She couldn’t afford to buy him a present. She didn’t want him spending money on her either. There would be other years and better times, she had told him, when they could be extravagant on each other.

Bill had nodded his head. He couldn’t disagree. He promised, with some hesitation, to an exchange of the traditional first year recommendation of paper. They would give each other cards - homemade ones at that.

Although Marie remained confident this was the right decision, she couldn’t help feeling a little disheartened. It was their first anniversary and family milestones had always been so important in her parent’s home. Then add to that all Bill had given up. While his other schoolmates had gone off to college to participate in fraternity shenanigans, Bill had enlisted in the army, married young and now was about to become a father - all that responsibility and never a hint of resentment or dismay.

Marie decided she wanted more for her husband than a card. The least she could do was give him a decent dinner. So, secretly, Marie scraped and saved, earning a little pocket money altering dresses and mending uniforms for the officers’ wives who couldn’t, or wouldn’t, sew themselves. When the date arrived, she’d accumulated enough for an off-base trip to the local butcher and grocer, purchasing the best of everything. Nothing canned, powdered, dried or processed would disgrace her anniversary table! With change to spare, she even bought imported Danish beer and fancy candles.

That night when Bill returned from maneuvers he expected the regular Tuesday night fishcakes. Instead, he was greeted by a real home-cooked meal, glowing candlelight, and Marie in her prettiest dress with maternity panels expertly added. At first, he looked a bit confused, then he smiled. It practically looked like a picture from a glossy ladies’ magazine, he had told her. It’s too good to eat. But that didn’t stop him as he enthusiastically sat himself at the table without even washing his hands. In recalling the tale later to friends, he often jokingly told people he couldn’t decide who looked lovelier, Marie or the glistening roast.

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