Free time travel Archives

27 November 1942

Dear Folks:

I’ve neglected you for the past three days but a combination of circumstances were responsible, not altogether my own laxity. Anyway to recover a lost round here goes. I can easily imagine what is uppermost in your mind. Bet everybody was having a swell time all day for the home circle with the wedding and the following fiesta. Well that’s for you to give me the lowdown on—so I’ll give you the dope as it happened on my holiday. The day coincided with my pass day so I slept in until nine o’clock, then loafed around until noon. We were all epicurean artists. They had everything from legendary soup to nuts—with about two pounds of turkey per head. We even inveigled a quart of wine to use in the sauce. When I got up I felt like Harry Johnson looks and had both belt ends flapping away from a tortured stomach. I could only look sadly at the coconut frosted cake and pass it by. In the afternoon I went into town, had a few beers and returned to camp. The liquor situation is pretty acute and places open only as shipments permit. Yesterday being a holiday, a few places were open and everyone was filled.

I sent Katie a message but afraid it didn’t reach her in time—anyway you can forward it to them. Now I’ll chew my nails until the pictures get here and your letters giving me the scoop. From the time I got up yesterday I imagined everything that was going on at the minute—but with my limited familiarity with nuptial rites I’m afraid my imagination went awry. Dick as an usher forced quite an imagination.

Yes, Captain Olson is still my CO.

I think this (is) all I can compose this time. I write about the battery once a week in the paper—perhaps I should send you the clippings as memoirs.

It’s another Thanksgiving gone into history and let’s hope that on the next one we’ll be thankful the war is over.

Buenos Noches tonight.

Love,

17 August 1942

Dear Folks:

It’s getting pretty late and my vision has been reduced to almost zero from doing a lot of paperwork today but not enough so that I can’t still pound you out a letter. Just wrote about three tonight. I’m official mail orderly now and I am treated like a coddled child by doting parents. I am the only one who can handle it. Starting to get a little strict about it.

Well I went thru all the physical examinations okay so I guess I’m ready for anything. I was glad to hear the doctor say my teeth were sound. He prodded and hit around but said all fillings were okay. Have extra glasses ordered and today was requisitioned for much new equipment. Man they throw out anything if there is even a little defect in it.

Guess maybe I better fish out your letter and see what you said so we can get together on who wants to (do) what about what. I’d like to have been there to round out your happiness and made it a complete circle but the army holds the compass now. Daily or almost I have been writing in a little book about small things I think will hold the greatest enjoyment when Tojo goes down with the Sun. It’s an account of how I feel, thimble sized scribblings on peculiar or outstanding fellows in the outfit, what I think about, and what I look forward to and in general a complete account of the battery and what I think of it. It would be most revealing if anyone should read it. I want to keep it up and perhaps later group it into a more logical and chronological account. If we see action I should have plenty of opportunity for lengthy episodes.

In my letter to Dick I tried to impress upon him the privilege of going to college and I hope he won’t let me down. I know he has the stuff, odd as he may seem and I’m banking on him. I would have liked to have sat in on the bull session of Glen & Kate’s and exercised my belly a little on the reminiscin’ too. About the crests, or buttons, they are or were the official insignia of the battalion. Lately these were abolished for a newer design. The three items in the corner signify a war but I can’t think of them now. Of course the inscription at the bottom is self explanatory. I had three but gave one to the girls in Fort Lewis. We wear one on our cap and two on our blouse—but of course now all identifying marks have been taken away so thought I might as well send them to you. What do I do when I get a hole in my sock? Turn them in for a new pair, but they are good socks. Out of the original issue of six pairs last year, only one has been turned in for new ones. Guess that takes care of the letter.

Last Sunday got a pass so went to Frisco and Oakland but had little fun out of it. Unless you have someone to see on the outside, passes aren’t of much worth. Barrage balloons look like a circus man’s balloon bouquet over ‘Frisco.

There are certainly a lot of visitors that come to see the boys. Sunday cars were lined up like a county fair and people milling around waiting for their guy to come. They have a loudspeaker system that facilitates locating visitors for the soldiers. About a mile away is a little burg ‘bout the size of Mitchell and made up mostly of waps and Spaniards who work in the mills around (there). A few days we signed a slip saying we understood fully the consequences of desertion and AWOL; guess they can’t take any chances now.

I hope you keep up your moral and don’t worry about mine. I’m alright but I do a little worrying about you and know some of the anxiety you must feel but I got the best Uncle in the world taking care of me. Everybody else in the barracks is sleeping and I suspect that I better follow or this typewriter might wake them up. It’s funny the turn of events that take place in a man’s life. I always thought that wars were something that made reading in a history chapter and something apart from actuality, but here I am getting a bonus for working in a human slaughterhouse, with a lot overtime and no danger of being fired. Guess I shouldn’t write this way to you but the whole futility of it all starts me thinking. I could write all night upon it but that’s no good—not now. I don’t want you to worry because one good thing from this mess I will make the Buckingham Palace look like an Arkansas outhouse beside my home and folks. Memories are something man lives by and now and the six biggest all begin with an M.

Guess I’ve said enough tonight—what color do you like in Japanese kimonos?

Love,

11 August 1942

Dear Folks:

I should be working I suppose but I’m going to try to write you a letter before they catch up with me.

Perhaps the wind is beginning to blow a different direction because there are again some rumors of furloughs—as a matter of fact the CO told us that he thought perhaps we might be given a little time off after we got to ‘Frisco—but for how long I don’t know. We’re still in Fort Lewis but leaving for Frisco tomorrow on the train. On your next letters address them to San Francisco at the address I gave you.

Got your two swell letters yesterday and was gong to write last night but felt so tired out that gave it up. I’m all over the flu but it made me feel pretty low and weak for awhile. Took it easy over the weekend but Sunday night that girl I’ve told you about came around with her car so we went to the beach and later to Tacoma. She made me a batch of cookies but they are practically all gone now.

I’m going to buy a dozen rabbits feet, throw horseshoes over my shoulder and engage in any other good luck omen that I can think in hopes that it will promote some kind of a furlough. I was thinking of it last night when I went to bed and thought how swell it would be. Logically it would seem like it would be better for the fellows if they could be granted a little vacation but maybe the military strategists know what they are doing. If I could get a little travel time along with it the trip wouldn’t be such a rush.

I’ve got a lot of new equipment and have been getting rid of any telltale markings on my old stuff, have my bags marked and about ready to take off.

I better write a letter to Grandma and let her know my new address or I’ll have mail chasing me all over the country. I was thinking it would be a good idea for you to send the Star Herald to me but I don’t know what arrangements or what newspapers would be allowed overseas; perhaps I can find out.

It seemed I had so much on my mind last night to write about but now it seems to have gone like the darkness. Suppose Katie is home now and you are enjoying her.

This didn’t turn out to be much of a column but at least it’s a token of a letter. Suppose my friend the censor will be reading my letters pretty soon and won’t let any out for awhile but maybe that won’t be for sometime yet.

Will see you in the next letter and all of you keep your mugs in the breeze and your shoulders back.

Love,

22 July 1942

Dear Folks:

Time to write another letter while I’m goldbricking and while there is still some semblance of coolness in the air. Next Tuesday, a week from today we will be back in Fort Lewis and that won’t be too soon for me. Last Saturday and Sunday was in Yakima and had a good time getting my fill of dancing and good time. The place is about like Scottsbluff with eight some thousand people. There are plenty of places to go(to) and nice parks to go to. Also went to the Episcopal church, typical of most, covered with foliage and made of brick. Next Sunday and Saturday afternoon thinking of going berry or fruit picking. There is a shortage of workers so the soldiers are making up parties and picking in their spare time. Six thousand went out from Ft. Lewis last Sunday and there will probably be more this weekend.

Had a little excitement last nite when a seven foot rattlesnake attempted to share a fellow’s sleeping bag with him.

There are rumors that when our outfit returns to Lewis the cadre is going to Oregon and the outfit back to California. No word about furloughs. This morning we got a letter from an irate Montanan father who requested his son be granted a 30 day furlough. Of course it was turned down—impossible now.

Yesterday was a day of excitement and a little tragedy. It seems that C battery is a jinx for hard luck. Yesterday afternoon two cooks were burned, one seriously, when a unit in the stove blew up and sprayed gasoline all over the truck and the whole kitchen. The orderly tent is just a few yards from it and when it blew up we heard it first. Both cooks jumped off the truck screaming hysterically and flaming like torches. We threw blankets around them and rushed them to the doctor. Last nite and today one was given blood transfusions. The one most seriously burned happens to live in Yakima and can be with his folks. Before we got him out, two of his ribs were sticking out. That’s the first time I ever saw anyone so seriously burned and I was plenty jittery.

Later in the day we went swimming and when we got back we had to fight a prairie fire that was headed for the camp. The dust and smoke was so thick I could hardly breathe and it was one o’clock a.m. before I got to bed. The whole camp was there with trucks and graders and sprinklers and it was a great holocaust of excitement. Jeeps were tearing around like mad hens and bugles were blowing somewhere in the dust.

Guess this is enough for this time—going to a USO dance tonight if nothing else happens.

Some Red Cross women came around this morning with a station wagon full of cookies to put in our lunches. They wanted to see the stoves and help make the sandwiches so they pitched in. One lady went for a jeep ride and bounced all over the seat. We gave them about ten pounds of sugar and some grease.

Well see you in the next letter.

Love,

8 July 1942

Dear Folks:

It’s about seven o’clock and I’ve just finished shaving and sprucing a bit and I feel pretty good so I’ll answer your letter of today and Saturday. Suppose the main topic is the fourth of July celebration. We were granted passes all day Saturday and Sunday and it seemed like a furlough. A bunch of us left about nine o’clock Saturday and went into Yakima about five miles. On the way in we were picked up by an old couple who were herding a dilapidated fruit truck of about ’26 vintage and before we had gone far the whole back end looked like flies on a molasses jar. Our first sergeant and his wife live in Yakima and previously he had invited some of us over, so we went there. I appreciate a bathtub all the more now because when we got there his wife had eight cases of beer frosted down by two hundred pounds of ice. We did it up in big style singing and carrying on. In the evening five of us got a hotel room then took in some dances. Yakima is certainly a pretty town, trees all over and many beautiful homes. And the people appear very friendly. Stayed in bed til Sunday noon then went to a show and came back 5:00 Monday morning. A swell weekend.

The country around here reminds me of the Platte Valley in many ways. From our camp site we get a good view of the checkered green fields and orchards but up on the hills on either side it is dry and barren. Our camp in relation to Minatare would be about three or four miles beyond Lake Minatare.

I’ll dig up your letter and answer some questions now. The first item—my money situation is good. We were paid the third and I had about $35.00 left after bonds and laundry cleaning were taken out. As a matter of fact we get better food here than at the Fort, plenty of salads, fruit, and fresh meat. Tonite for supper we had roast duck and Sunday turkey (I wasn’t here). When we first came I drank water constantly but now my consumption is about normal. At every meal we are given salt tablets and our food has an abnormal amount. We haul the water from the water tower and drink it from a lister bag supported on a tripod. Yes the cadre is still going I believe after we leave here, which is two weeks after this one, July 25. And we are five or six miles from Yakima. Some guy shuttles a bus back and forth but usually we get a taxi for thirty-five cents. I got the picture of you and Kate and I remarked about it most graciously in one of my letters. Perhaps you didn’t get one of mine. Don’t go out of your way for the cookies, I forgot about the sugar rationing. You said something about watermelon in your letter—well I went to a restaurant and ate plenty and everything else I liked. Furloughs still seem in the offing—an outfit that just left here in our division are on them now so it is told. Only fifteen days though.

Our holiday was marred by a tragic incident Saturday afternoon. A big strapping fellow from Missouri with a pleasing sublimity of the hill country drowned in the canal I told you about. The canal is V-shaped lined with cement and about ten or twelve feet deep and the only place where a fellow can get out is at ladders at about ½ mile intervals. The current is so swift that if you get beyond the ladder it is impossible to get out. The last time I was there another of our men almost went down and it took all of us to get him out. Consequently swimming is strictly verboten there but the battery furnishes us a truck every nite to go to the river. C battery is certainly getting the bad breaks. Last January a fellow was shot on guard duty and now this. The skipper (battery commander) took it very hard.

I actually feel better out here and have much more endurance. The heat is pretty depressing at times but it has been cooler the last couple of days. I’ve lost five pounds though.

Tell Quincy I’ll write her tomorrow.

Guess this is about all for this time—perhaps when I feel a little more literary bent, I can write that letter for the Herald. Wish I could see your new home and take advantage of your sleeping offer. Maybe next month, who knows. Say hello to Jim for me.

Love,

I haven’t heard from Wylma since last March 1^st.

23 June 1942

Dear Folks:

I just wrote you last nite but another one won’t hurt and besides I got your last letter this afternoon.

Was surprised to hear that Dick was home. Thought he would go back sometime but not so soon. Hope he finds a good job soon.

Next Monday (June 29) we go to Yakima for intensive training and firing. It is about one (hundred) forty miles from here and over the high mountains past Mt. Rainier. They tell me it’s pretty hot over there, but we have our suntans so it won’t be as bad as the woolens. We will be there for at least a month so you can send me some cookies there. Suppose we will start using our sleeping bags again. It’s going to seem tough leaving these luxurious barracks but also good to get into the open again. During these operations we will have aircraft observations and dummy bombs of flour.

Still nothing on furloughs. Two of our men are on them but they are only for emergencies and the Red Cross makes a thorough investigation.

Payday will really be something this time with the fifty bucks. I haven’t heard anything about the two paydays a month, but I think it would be a good idea. Along with the raise in base pay was a special arrangement for dependents. For every $22 the soldier sends home the government adds $28 to it. This is mandatory for married men and only available for men with dependents. A pretty good deal. The $12.50 for my bonds will be taken out this month. As the bonds accumulate they will be sent to you.

Now to reread your letter and answer the questions. Yes I still go to church, there is a big brick chapel on the post. I use cream to shave with the lather type but with the tube stipulation, soap is alright. I’m well supplied with toilet articles but can always use razor blades, shaving cream, or face soap. The number of division is the Fortieth, the emblem of which is a yellow sun on a dark blue background.

Boy does it rain around here—wish Nebraska could get some of it. Guess that’s why I don’t mind it so much.

Tomorrow night the Camel Caravan is coming and if it’s as good as the one I saw at Roberts it is pretty good.

Guess I told you about my excursion in Seattle last Saturday.

I plumb forgot about Dan’s birthday but I must remember him someway—and sixteen too. That reminds me of the days that I was sporting a pout because I was too young to pedal a bike.

Well l am going to listen to Fibber McGee and Bob Hope so until next time.

Lots of love,

22 June 1942

Dear Folks:

About an hour before lights out and a good time to get something important done.

Suppose Dad got my telegram last Sunday. I was in Seattle when I sent it. I met a girl at a division dance last week and as she had a car suggested we go to Seattle. We left Saturday noon, and until evening she showed me the town. For supper we went to a waterfront café that was really something unusual for me. I tried some crab legs and to my surprise they were delicious. Later, after dinner, we went to the club she was a member of. After that we took in Seattle’s largest dance ballroom then drove home getting here about three. I had a swell time and it seemed like the old days to ride around in a civilian car. We saw the University of Washington, Boeing Aircraft and plenty of flying fortresses guarded by barrage balloons, some set in people’s backyards. The Boeing plant is camouflaged so that it is hardly visible from the hi-way.

In a couple of weeks we are going to Yakima for maneuvers and later I don’t know where; but believe I will be transferred out before long.

Guess this is about all this time. Send some cookies if you can. I’ll get them. Will write tomorrow.

11 May 1942

Dear Folks:

Guess I haven’t written for about a week so better get at it.

When I got in today your picture was here and is it swell. I’m so glad you sent it. I can’t adequately tell you how much it will mean. Then yesterday Katie’s(photo) came so with these and the one of Dick, I have quite a gallery of good-looking kin. Katie is getting prettier all the time but since the last time I saw her, in about August ’40, I believe, she seems to look a little more mature and womanly. When exactly will she graduate? I’d sure like to see her badly. I feel like a terrible heel for not sending you something beside the telegram on your big day last Sunday,but then I thought that if you were coming out to see Gram or up here I would send you fifteen dollars for the trip. Suppose your back is badly bowed by the season of the year but it would be swell if you both could get away from it all.

I’m still in the dark as to furloughs—as a matter of fact haven’t even got wind of a good latrine rumor. Other fellows seem to get these but no dice in this outfit I guess.

Several troop trains have pulled out last week and even tonite a long one is standing on the tracks waiting to be loaded. The latest info from seat 5 is that we won’t be here for longer than a month, but then this is all rumor. Today we were on the rifle range firing plenty of ammo. I didn’t do as good as I have before—a 154 out of two hundred. Last week I started to attend survey school. About three men from each battery were chosen, this is the brain part of field artillery. Hope I go long enough to get some benefit from it.

Last Saturday afternoon got a thirty-six hour pass so Johnnie, my pal, and I went into Tacoma but came home fairly early for lack of anything to do. This guy Johnnie is really a swell fellow—a tough existence ever since he was born, living under a drunken Dad and keeping his mother. Plenty handsome, modest, and sincere. His qualities remind me of Jim Sandison, but Johnnie is much more handsome. Black curly hair and big friendly eyes. Wish I had a picture of him.

The recent sea battle was certainly good news wasn’t it? Hope we treat ‘em plenty rugged from now on. A bad note has been coming up lately and that is gas or chemical warfare. The use of that will increase the horror of war many times. I’d think Germany would be afraid to use it because of his own extinction.

Last week one day I was on regimental fatigue and was handed a shovel and dumped off on a coal pile. Boy did I get dirty but it was a good workout. We hauled it to the hospitals and to the homes of the brass boys (officers).

It’s still been raining off and on for the last week but a couple of days were really nice.

Well I’ve got to write some more letters so better get around to them.

Your picture will be my most valued possession.

Love,

The picture is a 155 mm howitzer of our battery.

3 May 1942

Dear Folks:

I’ve wandered over half of the camp since supper and couldn’t find anything I wanted to do so here I am back on my bunk writing to you, which I should have done in the first place.

The box came about three days ago and did I have a good time opening it. The towels were just the thing and when I got around to the food I had about a dozen chow-hounds to get rid of. Everything hit the spot. Also got the Star Heralds and the Free Presses. I heard over the radio that there was plane wreckage with Bob [Redding from Minatare] among the crew. All were believed dead.

Well last Sunday we moved from the newer part of the fort over to the old section with the brick buildings. Our battery is sleeping in the usual wooden barracks but they are swell brick buildings all around. It was a heck of a time moving—the second Sunday in a row we worked and my morale was feeling pretty low. So for about all we have been doing is scrubbing, cleaning windows and the like. Everything has to be so darned perfect whenever we leave a place.

The building we eat in, and where a couple of batteries of our battalion are quartered is about the size of the Scottsbluff high school and fixed up elegantly. Finally after hearing and reading about the army’s modern equipment in the kitchen, I’ve actually seen some. The kitchen is a large room lined with brick tile and accessorized with Monel metal on most appliances. We have electric dishwashers and automatic potato peelers. And there is one machine that stands about four feet high and looks like a large drill, but is isn’t. It has a good size paddle on an off-center shaft that whips potatoes. Really a nice place. Seems too good to be true and I hope to break myself of the habit of grabbing my mess kit when chow sounds. We eat on Monel covered tables and use dishes and cups. All this reminds me of OP tomorrow. Report at 5:30 AM to work until eight in the evening. I’ll be plenty sapped tomorrow evening.

I have found a number of pit passes since coming to Fort Lewis and the first made its appearance last Saturday night. We were given eight hour passes from five until one so me and my pal decided to go to Tacoma. Well we waited from five-fifteen until eight-thirty, almost three hours before we got on a bus. I swear the ticket line was at least two blocks long leading into a postage stamp shack with but a single clerk selling tickets. I, and plenty others were pretty disgusted. An eight hour pass and three were spent getting a ticket and waiting for a bus. Finally about 9 we got into Tacoma and had a whopping supper but had to wait an hour for that. Every little place and large too was packed with soldiers. And repeat the above process on trying to get a bus home then getting up at seven Sunday. Tonite I tried to go to the show but the line there was inexhaustible, and the canteens reminded me of the May Company on Saturdays or trying to play polo in a submarine. I guess that’s about all of my peeves except the rain and KP.

The latest dope is that we will be here for at least eight weeks of intensive training.

This chilly weather here seems to have helped my appetite and am eating more than usual.

Have had a case of infantigo for the past two weeks. It is beginning to subside and is a lot cleared up. I looked like a guy out of a comic magazine with my face spotted up with the violet stuff the doctor puts on it.

Well I guess this finishes another issue. Hope to take advantage of the library if it isn’t like the ticket lines.

Given this letter is about all grip, well I’ll be more cherry in the next one.

Maybe I could elaborate a little more on the corny. In the first place you see fellows from all kinds of outfits. There are plenty of ski troopers here all abundantly equipped for mountain warfare. They train on Mt. Rainier. Then the other day I saw droves of good mules that are used by the pack field artillery. Guns [175’s] are bundled up in 250 pound pieces and packed by these mules. Of course there are tanks, mammoth railroad guns and half tracks. Some of the queerest names are attached to them, I mean the half tracks (lugs on the back and wheels on the front) such as “Cozy Coffin”, “Coughing Coffin”, “La Muerte” and “Chattering Coffin” etc. Then there is the Air Corps.

Well better quit now. 5 is awful early and I’ve got to wake up myself.

Thanks so much for the box. See you in the next letter.

Love,

5 April 1942

Dear Folks:

Suppose you are wondering what has happened to me for not writing so long but last week was a busy one with moving and guard duty and I feel off a little.

Last Wednesday thirteen of our battery were transferred to Carlsbad to join another battery in our regiment, to patrol the coastline. It is about twenty miles from Escondido but a little closer to San Diego. We are living in tents in a eucalyptus grove just about a mile from the coast back in the hills. A nice shower room and washstand has been built so it isn’t so bad here. Carlsbad is about a mile away and Oceanside about four. We do guard duty six hours at a time, either from six until twelve or twelve until six at nite only. Each outpost is dug out in the sand and lined with sandbags and equipped with a stove and charts, etc. Ours sits on a bluff overlooking the sea. Two stay in the dugout while two walk on patrol, our post is 3 ½ miles so we walk seven miles each nite. Time seems to go pretty fast though, walking along the beach or highway 101 and watching the surf pound in. In the afternoon we drill 3 hours.

Well today was big one on the calendar, being Easter. I got up at nine and hitchhiked to Oceanside and went to the Episcopal church there. I also took communion. The church is right on the highway 101 in town and during the sermon he was forced to almost yell while a marriage party went by. After church I hitchhiked back to my station.

Was in Coronado last Tuesday on a 23 hour pass and had a nice time with the folks there. I talked to Dick again about the Navy and I believe he will refrain from joining.

Just got Dan’s letter and picture. Boy, he’s good looking. He shouldn’t have any trouble with girls. Also got a card from the Colson’s. By the way even tho I’m here at Carlsbad still address my mail to Escondido. It will be sent out daily.

Haven’t heard from Kate for some time. Believe she owes me the letter.

I just had Sunday chow a few minutes ago—peaches, cheese, cold meat, beets, coffee, and potato salad. Pretty good. Guess I’ll read awhile tonite before going out on guard.

Well another Easter has come and gone and for the first time I didn’t have to be particular about what I wore. Everyone was dolled up in church and was the only soldier there. Hope I’m not wearing OD’s when the next one comes around.

Sorry I didn’t write in time for the box but I know everything you put in it will be something I can use.

Love,