Yakima Washington Archives

16 July 1942

Dear Folks:

I don’t think I’m neglecting you in my writing, do you? I don’t know why I feel so prolific, maybe it’s because I have so much time in the office.

Opened the package you sent me in the presence of my office henchmen, and in the middle of the afternoon a piece of angel food cake was like the end of a thirty day fast. The officers had a piece too and they all attest to its goodness. Haven’t sampled the cookies yet but I know they will be as good as the cake. The cake was real fresh and soft but the frosting was beginning to fall off. The cookies will be a dessert for dinner because all we have then is sandwiches.

Suppose you have the pictures of our Sahara Paradise by now. Well here’s another one. It was taken on a Sunday afternoon at Ft. Lewis. I don’t know the girls at all. We just asked them to pose with us and they consented.

One more week after this, then back to Lewis to furloughs I hope. I’m getting pretty used to it here being so close to town and all but despise the rain. I still like the barracks better. My confinement is over today and I thought it was. Come to find out it was just for over the last weekend. Last nite it actually rained a little and this morning the ground smells fresh and alive.

Haven’t been doing much reading lately however did just finish “The Good Earth”. It was laying around so thought I might as well read it. There isn’t a library here and no pocketbooks to buy so I’m stalled temporarily.

I wish I could foresee what the army proposes to do with us after we get back to Lewis. Some say back to California and the cadre to Oregon but these are pure hearsay. I heard most of the experts predict a siege of three or more years (how wrong they-the experts-were when Germany first came out of her corner). Only yesterday I was reading in a ’39 Digest the opinions of a Yale economist and European expert who flatly declared that the one thing Hitler could not do was wage war. Most of them are “looking for a better ‘ole’ now”, and I think they are too pessimistic in forecasting another three years. I’m going to be home for good in January 1944.

I still droll like a blue bloodhound when I hear an airplane. I’ve asked the CO about the Air Corps again but there seems to be no way out. Oh, well the FA is pretty good.

There wasn’t much to write about but I wanted to thank you for the box. With the sugar rationing you hadn’t better send anymore and canning coming up too.

Well I’ll yet take that all day nap you promised. Goodbye for now.

Love,

13 July 1942

Dear Folks:

It’s lunch time now and I feel inclined to write so here goes before one o’clock comes around.

I took some pictures a few days ago that show the camp and thought you would be interested. The tent is our orderly room (1), two and three are general pictures of the camp with our battery in the foreground. In the background is Yakima Valley and beyond that is Mt. Rainier that didn’t show up in the picture. Number four shows our guns, the nearest one being camouflaged with sagebrush, five is our kitchen—looks like a lonely outpost on the desert doesn’t it? The stoves and ranges are in the back of the truck barely visible. Six is me in front of my boudoir and in the background is a truck tarpaulin under which we put our barracks bags and hang our clothes. Seven is our washstand—notice the bleak background. The other picture shows a gun the same as ours, it shows three of the crew of eight.

Well everything else is normal. Something really funny happened yesterday in the field. A slap happy dodo that you find in every outfit was wanting a match for a cigarette very badly and not finding one promised he was going to stop the next person and get the match. Well it was the general himself on a visit so he was the victim. He was a little taken back but obliged with a grin.

So long for now.

Love,

Enclosed in this envelope was another 2 page handwritten letter, signed only “Mother” (Harold’s grandmother, Gram Waid):

Friday PM

My dear children:

It seems so long since I heard from you folks. Jim got Dick’s letter and we all enjoyed it a lot, coming from him. Am glad he got work so quick for know he isn’t happy sitting around. I intended sending his clothes this week but have been pretty busy with my little girl. Her mother isn’t getting along very well. We insisted on her being taken home Wednesday evening. We loved the little thing. Too much for me. One of those little folks that had a way of getting into things. Well Jim’s vacation hasn’t ended yet. He really needed the rest and lighter work. He has some prospect of getting on for the City commencing Monday morning. We expect to hear from Howard Jackson every day to say when he can get off to come and see us. Am making some cookies to send to him tomorrow. Will make some for Harold soon but haven’t heard from him for some time. A letter would sure look good and relieve my mind a lot. I do love him so. I wish things had turned out so you could have come out this summer but we must go on hoping for a meeting later on. Phillip Grave is sorry I forgot your birthday. Will make it good soon. Dick and I talked about it just before he left and I can’t understand how I forgot it. Just to show you how scarce rooms are here. I’ll tell you we rented the garage to two fellows to sleep in. In order to lawfully do it, must offer them use of bath and toilet. They haven’t been in yet. They both stay at North Island and only want garage to sleep in. There isn’t anything to rent on the island and lots of building going on, houses for sale but not to rent. When this is over people will be leaving here like rats. Of course you get all the war news so I can’t add anything to it. To say the least, it’s awful. We have found it hard to get by with so little sugar. They tell us we can use our no. 7 tomorrow. This will save the day for me. Not much baking these days. If one could feel it was necessary, it wouldn’t hurt so. They tell us coffee will be rationed next. June and I have a little canned goods stored away. Am getting some more next week. Russia is in for it. Guess Hitler gets them all doesn’t he. Let’s hope we don’t have him to deal with. Hope the second had business is increasing. Guess Dick told you about my new furniture. It’s at least a little improvement on the old. And we must be thankful for small favors. Junes are all well. She lives very easily of course. Karen is anxiously waiting her little baby brother’s appearance. Mrs. Johnson hasn’t mentioned anything about taking Karen and I hope she doesn’t for I would like to keep her of course. I wonder about Kathleen. How she is and must write her sometime. Seems to go so fast. Maybe it is a good thing. Well think I have told you all the news and will write to Laura tonight. I do get homesick to see you all, but must be patient.

Love,

Mother

Glad Virgil enjoyed his wine.

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.

2 July 1942

Dear Folks:

To keep my mind off the heat and look a little more ambitious I’ll write you something of what’s been cooking. Well this is the third day we’ve been here but it seems like thirty days. Day before yesterday it was a hundred and fifteen and yesterday one (hundred) eighteen and it seems even hotter today without any breeze at all. The heat just seems to bounce off the ground into your face. Yesterday I was on KP and just about cooked trying to wash dishes and wipe off the sweat at the same time. We do get a little relief in the evening though. Two miles across the hills is an irrigation canal and a river so we usually hike over there to cool off a bit. Every night the bank looks like a bunch of flies on a piece of bacon. No bathing suits of course.

The latest rumor, seemingly well founded, is that we will get furloughs in August after we get out of this hell hole. I hope this is the straight dope and I’m inclined to think it is. Of course I’ll let you know if we get any definite word. That’s not very far off and will that be a treat. Come to think of it in two months I will have been almost a year without a furlough. We should be here in Yakima for only about four weeks if we pass our test, which this little excursion is intended for. If we don’t pass it and have to go through another month I believe I’ll go completely berserk. It’s almost impossible to stay out in the heat for any length of time. I’ve dispensed with all underwear except when I get a pass and wear my cotton uniform. If I’m not on duty Saturday or Sunday I’m going into Yakima and spend the afternoon of the fourth swimming and cooling off. It doesn’t seem possible that the fourth is so near. We get off from twelve noon Saturday until midnight Sunday nite, if we don’t get a damned alert, as they usually do over a holiday. Every nite the canteen tent looks like a bunch of ants going into their hill as the boys file in for a drink of beer or pop. Last night the battery next to us furnished free beer for the boys after they got in from the field. We get it for a dime a bottle, but it’s pretty weak.

One thing I sleep like a baby at nights, and this morning I didn’t even hear first call, as I usually do a half before time. The sun rises about five and most are dressed before reveille ever blows. I slept on the top of my bag in the raw till about one when it began to get chilly. It starts to get hot about six thirty and stays like that until nine or after.

We have good mail service here, as good as the Fort, so don’t worry about mail getting to me. I guess this is about all. We have good eats and a lot of fruit that appeals to me; cantaloupe, tomatoes, bananas, strawberries and a lot of salads.

Well so long for another time.

Love,

30 June 1942

Dear Mother and Dad:

I better be writing soon or you will be thinking all sorts of things again. Monday we left Fort Lewis and came here to Yakima. This is the worst deal I’ve had yet. Our camp is stuck on a rolling prairie like in Wyoming and as hot as a Nebraska rye field. Man is it hot and dusty and then we live in pup tents. By four men joining their shelter halves we sleep four to a tent. Our sleeping bags are right on the ground where the dirt shifts into everything. This morning I put some boards under my bag in hopes it would keep it a little cleaner. Boy this is really rugged. Every time you take a step you raise a cloud of dust. I wouldn’t be surprised if we’re getting training for Africa. But one good thing is, it’s nice sleeping at nites, that is what there is of it—the sun does down about 9:40 and raises at 5:00. There are a couple thousand guys here all in pup tents. The canteen and theatre look like miniature circus tents. Guess that is the final conditioning. I think we will be allowed to grow beards too so we’ll probably be a hot looking bunch. If we get paid Friday I’m going into town and shower and slap on an ice cake. Anyway we all think it’s a mell of hess but it will probably be good for us.

Well I’ll write more later when I get better arranged and have some more news.

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.