Katie Moss Creal Archives - Page 2 of 4

10 July 1943

Dear Dad:

You probably have noticed, and maybe with a little concern, the fewer number of letters that I have been writing, but I find it so discouraging to write a good letter that I put it off ‘for just one more nite’. Well my guilt has been gnawing on me pretty strong tonight so this will be ‘that one more nite’. The first thing I should do, and I do feel bad about it, is for neglecting you on Father’s Day. I know it is a little late, but I hope you will not feel it was intentional. As a sort of a ‘peace offering’ I’m sending you an electric razor. I didn’t expressly buy it for you, but after I got it thought I made a mistake and not knowing whether I can always use it just as well send it home. The razor is (a) good one but I know the toughness of your beard and perhaps you can’t use it. Perhaps Phil is getting to where he can get some good of it.

Tomorrow is the Sabbath so possibly I will go to the beach or to a dance. Ordinarily the afternoon is given to recreation although it is never a certainty. In the morning the chaplain has services in the rec hall but he seems to me to be so lacking in what I consider a good ‘sky pilot’ that I can’t feel as I should (think) about going.

Last Wednesday nite the first USO troupe from the states did a show for us and I laughed all the way through it. It was a breezy streamlined affair but just what the guys like. Even a half dozen chorus girls danced in front of all the whistling. The girls were quite a contrast to the willowy hula girls that dance slow and easy and with no shoes. After seeing the local females for so long, these looked pretty good.

I just heard the news that you have probably been following pretty closely and that is the landing on Sicily. It appears that perhaps from now on, we will do the choosing as to where and when the fighting will be done, but despite this I think it will still be a long time before it is all finished. Sometimes I get into some good arguments on this subject. You have often been right on your ‘out of the blue’ hunches and I hope this is one that is no different.

As a supplement to my excuse for not writing I do considerable reading in the evenings and I think this stops the letters a little bit. If you have not gotten a book yet forget about the first order and try to get the one ‘Titles’ that I mentioned. Perhaps I should have asked Katie to do this for she would have much better access to them than you. Maybe I’ll do that.

Tonight we assumed the roles of scrub women and cleaned up the billet with mops, etc. With my household experience in washing dishes, mopping, making beds, etc., I should make somebody a good wife. Maybe if the women keep working after the war, I can put it into practical use.

All of you have been doing a swell job of writing and I do appreciate it, although maybe it isn’t evident from my end. You know there is nothing dearer to me than home, and of late I have realized that more than ever, at least it has been impressed with greater meaning. I guess it’s about time for the final sentence and I never know how to write it to leave you with how much I miss and love you all.

Love,

10 April 1943

Dearest Folks:

Just finished a losing game of bridge and now feeling cozy and comfortable in the chilly night air. I will look forward with a inner relief when Saturday night rolls around although the days are all the same. Katie had written me about my new title of uncle and of course I was really surprised, but at the same time glad to hear it and know that I will have someone new to meet. It hardly seems real that she will be a mother and you a grandmother when I recall our petty squabbles that made so many memories and makes a family happy. All these years seem to have gone by like a flash of light although they would never end at the time. The poorer news was Dick’s new move but perhaps by some chance he will be transferred to the islands. If he should be, I believe we could arrange a meeting. A few days ago I mailed you a bond and about a dozen photographs. I hear Wylma is working in Denver, in fact, I write to her often. I guess it’s goodbye for tonight and I do my share of the praying too.

Love,

7 April 1943

Dearest Folks:

I just returned from pass and before I do anything else I’m going to write you tonight. During the afternoon I had a bit of vigorous exercise with several sets of tennis that left me with two blisters on each foot and consequently I’m limping around like an octogenarian. But it was well worth the while even if I feel pretty tired tonight.

Yesterday I had a tooth pulled and my gum has been aching since but not too bad. The tooth pulled was the broken one. They won’t replace it. The only work I need done now is a filling.

I bought the bond during a drive on Army Day although it took quite a bit from my wallet. I want to buy all I can.

Most of the pictures are taken during the sight seeing trip two weeks ago that I wrote you about. You can put them away for me. Most of the scenes suffer from their real beauty because of the color and distance and especially the hills that are cut with deep valleys and painted in deep purple hues.

A few minutes ago I submitted Katie’s picture in a “Sweetheart of APO 961” contest that is going on, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it brought back some bacon.

The envelope is pretty full now so I’ll let this suffice for tonight.

Love,

3 April 1943

Dearest Folks:

I’m afraid this will be little more than a note to let you know that everything is still okay but I always feel better after taking care of your letter. The past few days have been good ones for mail and of course that doesn’t hurt my morale any. I always get one from you. You must be very busy writing so much but if I couldn’t get your mail, I would feel completely lost. I had one from Katie. I’m glad she is so happy.

Tomorrow is another Sunday and unfortunately I am on duty all day but perhaps that will give me a chance to get caught up on my mail. By the time you receive this, I will have mailed the hat. I also sent five pictures yesterday. I get a big bang from sending you stuff.

Better pull the curtain tonight. It’s about time for bed check and lights out.

Love,

6 March 1943

Dearest Folks:

I really am ashamed of myself for not writing sooner and oftener but it seems that something comes along every night to put off until tomorrow. And secondly, it is so hard to write a letter that I give up in disgust. Whether I write or not you know that I am always thinking of you. Artie Shaw who plays regularly in Honolulu at a service inn, was here today but as I expected it was impossible for me to see him, and I would have given two days wages. Tomorrow being Sunday I hope I can make it to the dance at the USO. I have increased my allotment, that is the cash allotment, to thirty-five dollars, or twenty dollars more than what it was, that was effective March 1, but it may be awhile before it begins to arrive. I hope the bonds have been coming regularly, and I understand that the government is putting into effect a new plan whereby so much of the delay and error will be eliminated. Until now it was impossible to get a pass for longer than about eight hours but lately longer leaves have been authorized, and I hope that soon I can take a three day pass to Honolulu by plane, or at least sleep in a full-sized bed for one night. In my new job I do office work, and occasionally use my shorthand although it’s hardly as good as it was when I was in the bank. A few days ago I used it in a court session, and I must have looked like a stockbroker during a slump, but I got most of it down and what is more important, transcribed. I hope you have received the things I sent by now. I really hope that you like the bridge covers, although regardless you would write in the affirmative. I received a letter, the two page one, from you yesterday and I was glad to hear that you went to Denver for a few days, but sorry, in a way, to hear that Tom was rejected. I hope and I really mean it, that Katie is very happy, that Tom is truly a right guy. I suppose that it is impossible to send the Free Press any longer considering the new mailing restrictions, so your letters should be twice as long. I hope you will forgive me for my carelessness, because I know the anxiety that you must feel. So long for a while.

Love,

26 January 1943

Dear Folks:

It took a lot of nerve for me to sit down and write you a letter after not writing to you in more than a week, and I know you must feel pretty anxious, and I haven’t any real excuse, I just didn’t do it. And I should have been especially prompt with letters this week. Katie and Tom sent me a whopping big box of cigarettes and a wedding picture, then there was the tobacco and pouch and pipe from you and the stationery, all this in addition to the mail. This is the first and last time such a delay will happen. I received your two page V-letter today. In your letter I recall something about some table napkins and a cover. I had been planning to get a set for you and I will do it next payday. I have seen plenty of nice ones and although some of them are pretty expensive, I’m sure I can get what I want pretty reasonably. I hope my taste don’t fail me. And I will write the letter to Mrs. Peters. I had intended to and I will and soon too. Bringing up rationing, perhaps I should send dad a couple of pounds of coffee. As far as I know, excepting gasoline, there is no food rationing although a supply might not always be available. I guess I did look pretty thin in the pictures and I have lost a little weight since I came home, but I still top a hundred forty. I have a few more pictures and I will send them in a separate letter. I have been getting the Presses and the Digest—it came yesterday. The V-mail supply was very welcome. Its use is advocated and encouraged but it isn’t easy to get very many sheets. Many of the guys don’t like it, but I do. I sent you a few things about three weeks ago and I believe I insured them. There was an India made tray and a necklace, if I remember correctly. I guess I’m getting near the end of the sheet so I better taper off. I’m really sorry for not writing sooner and I know and consider your feelings. It won’t happen again. Thanks isn’t near enough for what you just sent me but I’ll say it anyway.

Love,

4 January 1943

Dear Folks:

I guess a typewriter isn’t the approved method of writing a letter but I know you won’t mind so here goes. After I get through writing everyone else, I end up the evening writing you and making a composite of everything I put in the others. It’s amusing to watch the guys writing a letter. It’s really a job and most of the time is spent trying to think of something to write about, one sentence or so then a fifteen minute brain scratching. Today was a red letter day for mail—eight was the combined total and among them was a card from the Conklins and a card and a letter from Gracie and Louie. She didn’t intimate that they were nearing the rocks—perhaps everything has been smoothed over. Had a letter from Katie and she told me about the pajama and nightgown swiping. Said she’d never forget those first two nights.

On the first had a free day and spent most of it at a USO dance that was well stocked with she-males for a change. They last from one to five in the afternoon and usually the music is furnished by an army swing band. There are a lot of jitterbuggers and an oiled seaman or two are the life of the party. I guess this guy with the oversized arrow makes a living spearing fish. I saw them doing it one day but isn’t as glamorous as pictured and they don’t run around that raw. (Must be referring to the native spear fishing on the stationery).

I feel pretty good tonight. First there was a nice batch of mail and then I read about Halsey’s forecast of the war. For some reason I really feel that I’ll be out in another year and that really isn’t so long. I’m even looking forward to staying up all night next New Year’s. But right now it’s really hard to imagine wearing civilian clothes again and doing things on your own time schedule. When that day does come I think we’ll all go nuts for a while.

Had a letter and a picture from the gal in Washington but that was purely platonic and she was more of a conversationalist than a romanticist. But she was really swell and I don’t think I’ll ever forget her. She was a cook in the nurse’s mess hall and I miss the midnight meals we used to have.

I’m still reading some law books and have digested three so far but I don’t know how much I have gotten from them. At least it won’t do me any harm and it’s a worthwhile pastime in the evenings when I’m not writing to you. If I go back to school that’s what I’m going to study.

This is it tonight, what there is of it. Should have a letter from you tomorrow.

Goodnight and I’ll see you in the next letter.

Love,

28 December 1942

Dearest Folks:

I’ve neglected you somewhat in the last few days as a result of a change in the battery but I’m back to normal so there shouldn’t be any more delay. I think that this change is a good one for me and possibly may open some opportunities. The fellows are from New York state and have an accent and a manner I hadn’t been around before. But they seem pretty swell and I hope I make out. And here I don’t have to ‘sanitarize’ in a ditch and wait for Saturdays to see a show or cuss a clogged up lantern for light. I hope I have the same opinion of the place a month from today as I do now.

I haven’t heard from Katie since she got her spouse but I guess she’s pretty wrapped up in the newness of the thing. I sure hope they make out okeh. Had two letters from Gram, and I better answer them tonight. I guess I made a mistake when I asked her for “Harper’s”. It should have been the “American Mercury”. By the way, in Gram’s letters she put quite an emphasis on the qualities of Wylma and what I ought to do about it when the brawl is over. Maybe she’s right but I don’t know. I thought I had a letter from Dick today at first glance and I was disappointed when it belonged to another Moss. Dad’s long V-mail came today. If anyone has a literary style, he is certainly the one but that’s unimportant. Wished I could conjure up enough words like he does.

This is really the limit to my effort tonight. There isn’t much to write about. Going to a show in a half hour and digest a “Horse Opera”. Have about four law books now. I’m going to read them if it takes the duration and six months. Just finished one. I hate to say goodnight but it would take me an hour for another paragraph.

Love,

3 December 1942

Dear Folks:

I’m quite a ways behind in my letters—got a hot full two days ago after the dam broke so I’ll probably be here all night answering them. And today received a telegram from Katie and Tom, sent from Torrington. Hope she has mine by now. I wish I could tell you something that has been happening lately but that will have to be storytelling later. Anyway I was able to sleep half the day, then take a swim in a reservoir. But I still feel like I’d run a marathon foot race. Two nights ago missed a letter to you for writing the news for the paper. The issue today was the sixth. Wished I could get more space. Then last Sunday spent the afternoon watching our ball team get beat again.

With mild weather prevailing here, it’s hard to imagine all of you shivering under overcoats. The flowers continue to bloom and skies to stay blue. It’s much warmer than last winter in Escondido but cool enough to sleep nights.

So far I’ve received three packages from you so I probably have the Thanksgiving box. I mailed two to you today. They weren’t insured and I hope they don’t get broke. I’m going to send some shorts for the kids soon. I know its winter there but they are so distinctive want to buy a couple pairs. And have you received the ones sent about a month ago?

Suppose Gram and Gramp are back on Coronado by this time. Bet you all had a swell time together. And Katie and Tom are deep in the throes of married ecstasy.

Haven’t got the Reader’s Digest yet—hope they start coming soon.

I guess this about covers everything this time. Yes, it would be swell if we could annilate a turkey together next Thanksgiving. Perhaps—who knows?

Goodnight another time.

Love,

28 November 1942

Dear Folks:

It hasn’t been twenty hours ago that I laid down my pen on the last letter to you but I can’t sit around tonite without writing you. Received a card from June today with a dollar bill in it—a cute card. Then had a letter from Geraldine who is teaching in Elk Creek. The Davis’ do good by me in writing. A good day for mail. Suppose you are all subsiding after the holiday and can’t hardly imagine Kate as Mrs. Creal. I hope she gets the message I sent her. Today was Saturday, the old Saturdays still reflect on the ones now. Heard part of the Army game and the Hit Parade. Something warming about hearing the same programs. I wish I could tell you a little more in my letters but it only takes a word or two to disclose something that might be damaging. Tonight have been doing the weekend polishing. My laundry is done by a Filipino lady who does a very good job.

Love,