Kennedy Wives: Triumph and Tragedy in America's Most Public Family by David Batcher Amber Hunt, David Batcher Read Free Book Online Page B
Authors: David Batcher Amber Hunt, David Batcher
in arms about a difference he didn’t see as terribly important. “As far as I’m concerned, I’ll gamble with your judgment,” he wrote Kick. Rose, however, was mortified at the thought of any of her children marrying outside the faith. And not just embarrassed; literally sickened. After Kick announced that she would indeed marry Billy, Rose wrote in her diary that she was “horrified—heartbroken.” She made herself so sick with worry that she ended up spending several days in New England Baptist Hospital.
As stubborn as her mother, Kick cabled Joe. “Religion everything to us both,” she wrote to her father. “Will always live according to Catholic teaching. Praying that time will heal all wounds. . . . Please beseech Mother not to worry. Am very happy and quite convinced have taken the right step.” On May 6, 1944, Kick married Billy in a civil ceremony attended by the Duke and Duchess of Devonshire and Joe Jr., among others, but not the bride’s parents. The eldest Kennedy child sent an icy, six-word cable to his absent parents later that day: “The power of silence is great.”
A month later, on June 6, 1944, the Allied Forces invaded Europe. Billy Hartington was called into active duty and two weeks later crossed the English Channel. Joe Jr. delayed his leave to fly support missions for the invading Allies. That summer, while waiting for her son to return on his planned leave, Rose softened. She wrote to Kathleen expressing herwish that she and Billy could accompany Joe Jr. when he visited. She regretted the things she’d said in opposition to the marriage. “However, that is all over now, dear Kathleen, and as long as you love Billy so dearly, you may be sure that we will receive you with open arms.”
Joe Jr. wrote home at the end of July to explain his further delay:
No doubt you are surprised that I haven’t arrived home. I am going to do something different for the next three weeks. It is secret, and I am not allowed to say what it is, but it isn’t dangerous so don’t worry. So I probably won’t be home until sometime in September.
In truth, Joe Kennedy Jr. had volunteered for a near-suicidal mission—to take out a V-1 launching pad in Belgium. The navy had stripped down a Liberator bomber so that it could be fully packed with explosives. His mission was to get the bomber to the target, turn over control of his plane to two B-17s that were accompanying him, and parachute to safety.
On August 13, 1944, two naval chaplains knocked on the door of the house at Hyannis Port and delivered the news Rose and Joe had dreaded to hear. Joe’s plane, they said, had exploded before even reaching its target.
“Dad’s face was twisted,” Teddy would write in his memoirs.
He got the words out that confirmed what we already suspected. Joe Jr. was dead. . . . Suddenly the room was awash in tears. Mother, my sisters, our guest, myself—everybody was crying; some wailed. Dad turned himself around and stumbled back up the stairs; he did not want us to witness his own dissolution into sobs.
Tellingly, Rose’s memoirs painted a more stoic picture: “There were no tears from Joe and me, not then. We sat awhile, holding each other close, and wept inwardly, silently.” Kick flew home and joined them on August 16. Though devastated, they attempted to stick to their routines and move on stoically. They stayed at Hyannis Port through Labor Day, and the Kennedys continued to have dinner on the front porch, play tennis, and go sailing as if it were a normal summer. In this way, they each grieved privately. After Labor Day, Joe moved into a suite at the WaldorfTowers in Manhattan, and Rose moved nearby with her daughters into New York’s Plaza Hotel, as was becoming her post–Labor Day custom. It was in New York that, on September 16, Kick was informed that Billy Hartington, her husband of only four months, had been shot dead in Belgium by a German sniper. She quickly returned to England, a
As stubborn as her mother, Kick cabled Joe. “Religion everything to us both,” she wrote to her father. “Will always live according to Catholic teaching. Praying that time will heal all wounds. . . . Please beseech Mother not to worry. Am very happy and quite convinced have taken the right step.” On May 6, 1944, Kick married Billy in a civil ceremony attended by the Duke and Duchess of Devonshire and Joe Jr., among others, but not the bride’s parents. The eldest Kennedy child sent an icy, six-word cable to his absent parents later that day: “The power of silence is great.”
A month later, on June 6, 1944, the Allied Forces invaded Europe. Billy Hartington was called into active duty and two weeks later crossed the English Channel. Joe Jr. delayed his leave to fly support missions for the invading Allies. That summer, while waiting for her son to return on his planned leave, Rose softened. She wrote to Kathleen expressing herwish that she and Billy could accompany Joe Jr. when he visited. She regretted the things she’d said in opposition to the marriage. “However, that is all over now, dear Kathleen, and as long as you love Billy so dearly, you may be sure that we will receive you with open arms.”
Joe Jr. wrote home at the end of July to explain his further delay:
No doubt you are surprised that I haven’t arrived home. I am going to do something different for the next three weeks. It is secret, and I am not allowed to say what it is, but it isn’t dangerous so don’t worry. So I probably won’t be home until sometime in September.
In truth, Joe Kennedy Jr. had volunteered for a near-suicidal mission—to take out a V-1 launching pad in Belgium. The navy had stripped down a Liberator bomber so that it could be fully packed with explosives. His mission was to get the bomber to the target, turn over control of his plane to two B-17s that were accompanying him, and parachute to safety.
On August 13, 1944, two naval chaplains knocked on the door of the house at Hyannis Port and delivered the news Rose and Joe had dreaded to hear. Joe’s plane, they said, had exploded before even reaching its target.
“Dad’s face was twisted,” Teddy would write in his memoirs.
He got the words out that confirmed what we already suspected. Joe Jr. was dead. . . . Suddenly the room was awash in tears. Mother, my sisters, our guest, myself—everybody was crying; some wailed. Dad turned himself around and stumbled back up the stairs; he did not want us to witness his own dissolution into sobs.
Tellingly, Rose’s memoirs painted a more stoic picture: “There were no tears from Joe and me, not then. We sat awhile, holding each other close, and wept inwardly, silently.” Kick flew home and joined them on August 16. Though devastated, they attempted to stick to their routines and move on stoically. They stayed at Hyannis Port through Labor Day, and the Kennedys continued to have dinner on the front porch, play tennis, and go sailing as if it were a normal summer. In this way, they each grieved privately. After Labor Day, Joe moved into a suite at the WaldorfTowers in Manhattan, and Rose moved nearby with her daughters into New York’s Plaza Hotel, as was becoming her post–Labor Day custom. It was in New York that, on September 16, Kick was informed that Billy Hartington, her husband of only four months, had been shot dead in Belgium by a German sniper. She quickly returned to England, a
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