Dear Folks:
Suppose you will be surprised by the series of lots of letters but I’ve had so much time to do nothing that letter writing becomes a good recourse when the time drags.
Finished my tour of guard duty at Carlsbad so I’m back in Escondido. Two letters were waiting for me—one from each of you. When you send me a box again will you include a heavy bath towel and perhaps a couple of hankies? I know you will send a box as you always have so I just as well make my suggestions. Some other things—hair shampoo, whole peanuts, that’s just about everything. I’m as proud as pie over the sweater and hate to have to wear it underneath. I can wear it on the outside only on unofficial formations.
Guess I’ll dig up your letters and take care of your questions. First—the actual temperature doesn’t seem to get so low but somehow the nights are very chilly and invariably we wear jackets and overcoats on nite guard duty, and then we still get cold. Yes, I sleep in my sleeping bag every nite. I would freeze without it—or I feel like I would. Usually in the evening we have a fire going in our little cone shaped stove so it’s comfortable in the tents. In fact your Easter card and the letter about the suit—take your pick—and I also hope Dad is making use of them. When the day comes that I will be handed that precious little document inscribed with the word ‘discharged’ I am going to wear different clothes everyday just to see what it feels like. Now that I got to thinking about it, it will seem odd very different to get back into civilian life. I never realized the freedom and privileges that I enjoyed. Suppose you will for awhile have to wake me with a bugle, blow a horn for chow and give me an inspection on Saturdays. How good it will seem to be relieved of the regulations of uniformity that we all follow.
Last Wednesday got a letter from Gram inviting me to a Nebraska picnic at Long Beach. Dick, Loyd, and June are going but I’m tied up, of course, so can’t attend! It does no good to make plans for anything—take your liberty as it comes and make arrangements later. Last nite a group of women with the Women’s Club in Vista entertained about forty of the soldiers to a dance and games in their clubhouse. I became entangled in a good bridge game with three of the town’s solid (+ solid) women who rank with the sharks. Of course I’m not acquainted with all the intracies and opportunities of the game but we got along pretty good and they were very gracious about my ineptness. They hung on all my words and finally we both recalled someone we knew in Scottsbluff so we became very chummy.
Another Sabbath tomorrow which means pancakes (a rare treat) for breakfast and church later. Besides pancakes-I also saw a boiler full of chickens so suppose we will have chicken for dinner with some good mashed potatoes.
I don’t know any Hoover in my battery although he may be in another battery of the battalion.
I see Dad you mentioned something of going to Alliance to see the army pass threw. Well I suppose a uniform would cause a mild sensation back there but out here they are so commonplace they are never noticed. Everyday convoys of trucks for miles in length pass through the town and P-38 interceptors, bombers and fighters fly over incessantly. Searchlights cut swatches of whiteness in the nights, and boys sit in rooms of sandbags keeping accurate logs of every happening along the coast. Troop trains sweep along, blackened out like a deadly animal and the yellow light of an alert flashes on once in a while. Rumors fly like confetti in a March breeze and the next most important topic is dope about furloughs and passes and (of course) women. I wish you could visit our battery and see what we do. Each move a vital cog in a big war wheel.
Well this covers about all from this news front and perhaps a little to much space so until the next letter.
Love,
Marcia (Creal) Merboth says
The last paragraph about the war reads like it should be in a war novel. Uncle Harold’s ability to express his surroundings, his experiences and his feelings makes all these letters so interesting. I’m very grateful to you Lori, for making the time to post all these letters, typed, no less for others to enjoy and learn more about WW two.
Gratefully,
Marcia
Lori says
Dad had a wonderful way of writing. I am so grateful that during his pre-Alzheimers years, he was able to write 3 short war stories (Mercy or Mission- June 1944, Beach Mission Preparing for the Mindoro Invasion-December 1944, and Easter Mourning-1 April 1945), pick the title for the letters (A Soldier’s Odyssey-Years, Fears and Tears), and summarize his thoughts when the war was over (First Thoughts under Reflections). He didn’t relish talking about his war experiences, often resulting in tears of sadness. Writing his recollections down seemed his only way of dealing with the horrors of what he had experienced. Thank you for reading his letters.