Staff Writer 

 On December 7, 1941, Morley Robinson was listening to the radio with three of his friends in an apartment on what used to be Carlton Street in Portland. Of course they were not singing along with the latest hit, but rather listening to news reports about the attack on Pearl Harbor as information came streaming across the airwaves. 

“There were four fellows there, and three of them enlisted,” Morley Robinson said. “We all signed up just as soon as we could.”

While Morley Robinson and his friends flocked to the army recruiter’s office, Mildred Tjarks – having traveled from her home in Nebraska in 1939 “to see what the East Coast was like” – found herself working as a clerk for the War Department in Washington D.C.

“I was living in a house with three other girls,” she said. “We put in some long nights during the worst of [World War II].”

 Mildred Tjarks said her duties included more than sitting behind a desk, however. She and other female government employees often spent weekends traveling to different military bases where they would meet and dance with soldiers, she said. 

In 1942, Morley Robinson, having completed basic training in Massachusetts and transferred to different Army bases in Alabama, Arizona, Oregon and finally Virginia, heard about one such dance.

“I didn’t want to go,” he said. “I don’t dance, I’m not that good, why would I go to a dance?”

At the urging of some of his fellow soldiers, Morley Robinson found himself across the dance floor from his future wife, who he said he spotted right away. He said he quickly asked her to dance and was relieved when she agreed.

“We weren’t supposed to [give out phone numbers],” Mildred Tjarks said. “It was just supposed to be a dance and ‘Goodnight,’ but a few phone numbers went out.”

That night, she broke the rules and gave Morley Robinson her home phone number – not a line to the White House operator, as some girls did, she said.

Morley Robinson said he returned to the military base that night and began preparing for their first date by saving as much money as he could. A former Texaco employee, he said he was making more money than some soldiers – Texaco agreed to supplement his military wages to reflect what he would have made if he had not enlisted – but treating Mildred Tjarks to a night on the town was still a financial feat.

“You didn’t get a lot of money back then, but I managed to buy her a steak dinner,” he said.

For the next year, Morley Robinson said he helped Mildred Tjarks through several surgeries and numerous hospital visits that were necessary to treat her for Crohn’s disease, an intestinal disease that can cause severe abdominal pain. Mildred Tjarks said the medical procedures were successful but not necessarily focused on a complete rehabilitation from the sickness.

“They would wait until there was a problem, then operate, wait, then operate again,” she said. 

Morely Robinson said the hours he spent by her side made him realize how special she was.

“I knew then, in that hospital when she was sick, that I wanted to take care of her,” he said. “It took me just about a year to convince her to marry me.”

On August 18, 1943, Mildred Tjarks, 25, and Morley Robinson, 29 – “old enough to know better,” he said with a laugh – were married. 

Early on, Mildred Robinson said they agreed to always settle disagreements before going to bed, and to always remain faithful to one another, values that have seen them through 65 anniversaries.

“It’s a give and take from both of you,” Morley Robinson said. “You always have to be honest with [your wife] and always be faithful. Never go chasing.”

The newlyweds didn’t have much time to spend together before Morley Robinson, then a Clerical Administrative noncommissioned officer, found himself aboard the Queen Mary with orders to report to the warfront in England. 

“They figured ‘Hey, you’re young, you’re healthy, off you go,’” he said. “I landed in La Havre after it was taken, and was pretty lucky it worked out that way.”

Mildred Robinson said her duties at the War Department were shifted to the Pacific Campaign once her husband received his orders.

“I wasn’t supposed to know where he was, ha ha,” she said. “I knew some of the girls working in that department I could talk to.”

Although the Army “couldn’t quite figure out what to do” with him at first, Morley Robinson said he eventually began working with survivors from Nazi prisoner of war camps, preparing them for their return trip home.

“That was some great work,” he said. “Some of those guys were pretty bad.” 

The Robinsons wrote to each other every day, a practice they said was vital to staying positive and in love while they were separated. In addition to the letters, Morley Robinson said he relied on faith to get him through the hard times. 

“I don’t care what church you go to, you have to stay constant in going to wherever it is and believing whatever you believe,” he said. “I would find little chapels in the mountains, I don’t know what religion its people were, but it was just a place you could get on your knees and talk to God.”

After two years overseas, Morley Robinson received orders to return home in January 1946. He said a problem with his leg kept him from boarding the boat back to America, so he sent Mildred Robinson a letter informing her he was not going to be returning home. 

“The doctor looked at me and said ‘If you were going to the front I would say you’re dodging, but you’re not. You’re going home,’” Morley Robinson said. “My leg felt fine so they got me on the boat and I got home alright.”

A few days later, Mildred Robinson, having received her husband’s letter that he would not be coming home because of a problem with his leg, stood dumbfounded on the front porch of her home, watching Morley Robinson walk up the street shouldering a heavy military duffel bag.

“She just stood there. I’ll never forget it. There I was, tired, carrying all this stuff and hot, and she just stood there,” Morley Robinson said. “Then finally I think somebody told her get the heck off the porch.”

A position with Texaco was waiting for Morley Robinson in Bangor, where he and Mildred Robinson raised three children before moving to South Portland in 1955, where they have lived together since.