Battalion newspaper Archives

21 April 1945

Dear Folks:

So much mail has been coming in from you folks that I would feel like a heel if I did not write you every opportunity I have. This has been a fairly quiet day and it looks like tonight before dark I might have time to get a few letters off. Some of the boys killed a hog so for supper tonite we enjoyed pork – good treat it was.

I was sorry to hear that you did not get the sandals but in talking to some of the fellows they said that perhaps the hemp used in them might contain insects or germs. I couldn’t tell from your letters whether you received the bolo knife complete with the case or what. Dad said only the handle came and Mom sounded like the whole thing arrived. I don’t wonder that you don’t understand how it is used but a Filipino almost builds his life around it. He can build a house, split coconuts, get food with it and fight with it. Even the smallest boys carry one. I know you would have liked the sandals.

In your letters were many clippings which I’m always anxious to get. I think that in as much as the Free Press is many months in coming it would be a good idea to put a copy in an envelope and mail it first class – in that way it is somewhat recent.

In connection with requests here is another. I’m publishing a battalion newspaper and it is to be run off on the mimeograph. Now the request is this. In order to reproduce headlines and column headings onto a stencil we need print letters which are usually cut out of cellulose so they can be traced onto the stencil. There may be other means that I don’t know about but that is one. So when you are in ‘Bluffs perhaps, LeRoys or Rominger’s or a stationary and supply house, could fix me up.

No, I haven’t received the packages you mailed last February but perhaps these will come through.

On today’s mail I had two letters each from Mom and Dad, and I wished I was allowed to tell you how fast they came. I would certainly like to get home now when spring is beginning to green the land and to see the house.

Yes, I was certainly shocked at the President’s death and undoubtedly he will rank as one of the world’s greatest men. And Ernie Pyle too. I understand he was here on Okinawa for awhile before going to Ice Island. He was buried in the army cemetery there along with GI’s he wrote so skillfully about.

I think your letters are very good Dad, contrary to your occasional reference to their inferiority, and I know it isn’t always easy to write. I gather that your business is doing good and I’m sure it is. I knew you could do good when you got the opportunity. So much has happened since I left – more probably than you realize.

I haven’t seen Dick in the last 2 days. He is very busy to say the least. He is certainly a good kid and he is all around okeh. And the Army is not coercing him. I will let you know when I see him again.

Had a letter from Nancy today and from the more mature tone of her letters, I can hardly reconcile her to the youngster she was when I left. It is beginning to look like the Mosses are getting romantically inclined. I think Dick is more than interested in Helen Emick and I would certainly like him to promote that gal. I’m aching for the quietness, contentedness, and satisfaction that I hope I can soon have in my own home. I’m developing into a family man and I hope before too many years, a part of that ambition will materialize.

Love,

11 April 1945

Dear folks:

Just received two letters, one from each of you. The first since coming to Okinawa, and needless to say they were much awaited. And very recent too.

In reading the clippings I see Jack Conklin is home on furlough. I can imagine how he feels about getting back for a while. I’m always reading and hearing of guys going back but it never seems to happen to me. And the greater percent of those all have less service. But I’m hoping that after this operation some of us will be granted furloughs. But I almost hate to comment on it because everything is so changeable.

Here on the island it has begun to rain and when it rains the soil which is a heavy clay, sticks to feet and wheels like glue. This morning my shoes must have weighed at least ten pounds from the mud. And it’s slippery and cold. I almost froze last night but I have the situation remedied for tonight. Have seen quite a number of Okinawa civilians walking along the road, most of them seem very old or very young. I guess the rest are fighting us. Almost all wear black for mourning I believe over their fate. Whereas on Saipan I felt some compassion for them. I no longer feel the same about these people. An interesting item is that there are 30,000 more women than men. From what I have seen they seem docile and cooperative enough. Nights ring with the crack of artillery fire and naval shells and flares can be seen in all directions. From reading the papers you can gather more of the activity around here than I can tell you, but undoubtedly it will be a costly and no quarter fight. Our living conditions are very good considering we are in combat, and I assure you I will be as careful as is possible.

As some of the usual paperwork has slowed down, I have been writing a battalion newspaper and trying to catch the news as it comes from the radio. It takes some time but it makes it go faster.

This is all for this time and I should be able to write you fairly regularly.

Love,

17 March 1943

Dearest Folks:

While I’m loafing before I go to bed, I (might) just as well apply my time to a better use, and make up for some letters I never wrote. I just listened to Harry James and had intended to get into another bridge game that is rapidly developing into a mania, but which was dispensed with tonight because of the absence of one of the foursome. I cut the clipping from the GI sheet that is published weekly. Of course I don’t write for it any more since I was transferred to this battery. The usual stake is two bits a rubber, and my fortune has been diminished by a buck already.

I believe I told you before that I had raised my allotment to thirty-five dollars effective March 1. However, it will probably be July 1 before the additional amounts will reach you. (This is surely a poor job of typing, but this is a poor machine and not the one I regularly use.)

As is usual at about this stage of my letter I am stuck for anything more to write. I know my letters are getting to be very brief and irritatingly drab but I do the same thing everyday and see the same sights. Maybe I could tell you about the visit I had with some Hawaiian people about two weeks ago. Their home is not far from camp and sits atop a small hill at the back of a two acre lawn, and surrounded on both sides by carnations, hibiscus, nasturtiums, ferns and a dozen more varieties that in my estimation are much prettier than orchids or carnations. We were invited in with a volume of welcoming words and immediately Eddie was telling us of the history and development of the islands. Eddie is strictly a Hawaiian gaucho or Paniolo and was taken into the family many years ago when he was getting to be the island incorrigible. His adopter made him his chauffeur while he campaigned around the island and went to Honolulu to the Senate. In this way he developed his flare for politics and when the old man died, succeeded in getting himself elected as a District supervisor. Now together with the old man’s widow he attends to his estate and manages her affairs. From what Eddie told us a campaigning in the old days of the Hawaiians was more of a vacation and one prolonged fiesta than a job of backslapping and high sounding promises. Every where they went the people prepared a ‘’luau’ of poi, squid, oranges, pork, wild turkey, showered them with leis and put on a big hula. Then they would sit up all night and in Hawaiian unravel stories of the past so full of pageantry and tradition. And Eddie said they would never return without a much loved fishing trip in the outriggers. All this he tells in an amusing and pidgin sort of English. All that he talked about I could never remember but one subject was the hog hunts that are full of sport and plenty of danger. Sometimes horses are used but more often they are tracked on foot. His many individual experiences are full of color and I could easily have listened to him all night.

Later, as I noticed and remarked about the furniture, he began to go into detail on the home. All the furnishings are hand carved of native Koa, a very hardwood with a beautiful grain and that will resist termites and retain a high polish almost indefinitely. What caught my eye was a model of a Hawaiian rigger that could easily bring up imaginations of long voyages of singing natives and golden moons. Anyway, we stayed as long as we dared while he kept going on about famous people who visited there, and his trip to the mountains and his first voyage to San Francisco on a cattle boat that produced some very comical episodes of his greenness in a big city. Finally we had an ice cold drink of passion fruit, and believe it or not, peanut butter cookies exactly the way you used to make them. I hope you will read the book I referred you to. I’m sure you will like it.

It is really getting on into the hours and I don’t want to keep anybody awake on my account. I will write you tomorrow night and tell you more of my visit in another letter.

Love,

Untitled Article by Emmett Cahill Taken from a Weekly GI Newspaper

Fred Lusiak has the answer to the barbed wire barricades which were placed before the entrance to the area recently. According to “Lucy” they were placed there by 1^st Sgt. Gerry Staerker to keep out the shoeshine boys.

Last week’s item relative to Sgt. Fred Puntoriero managing two dates at one time was challenged by the sergeant. We make corrections herewith. In our opinion it wasn’t two dates, it was three of them. He only managed to get by with the first two. The third one caught up with him. Sgt. Harker Chapman also resented being involved. So we hereby release him from any commitments on the part of the press.

At present Chappie is having trouble of his own, what with having told good many girls on the Mainland the same thing. His incoming letters, tinted with perfume, are written on asbestos paper. “I’ve got enough foreign entanglements without you complicating matters,” grumbled the sergeant.

Wanted. One Philadelphia lawyer to untangle them.

Tommy Lynch is carrying out his own obstacle course. In full field regalia Tommy was found in a slit trench, clawing and scraping at the sides, and in not too happy a frame of mind. We understand clearly how the men are found in the slit trenches at night, but when it happens in a cold, calculating light of day, well. In quite another mood Tommy also received a ride home from town last week, but details are not for publication according to Tommy Archer, Lynch’s press agent.

SOCIAL NOTES: Sgt. Gil Fruehaf returned from a three day business trip to town laden with photographic supplies and a resolve to return that city to the Indians.

Sgt. (we mean Master Sergeant) Nick Zona is the proud papa of two pigeons. Doves and daddy are doing well. The Big Bridge Four-Corporal Moss, Blount, Linsey, and Funk announce that they will gladly give, or take, bridge lessons every evening from twilight til taps. Call at Billet Nine for further details. We also suggest you bring your own cards, rifle and helmet.

25 December 1942

Dearest Folks:

Here it is Christmas Day 1942. That’s just about all I feel like saying—today is Christmas seems enough. I guess a guy should have a lot to feel (good) about and write about but I can’t find any words. The day was an easy one and I spent most of it reading and listening to the radio. For dinner we had everything and plenty of it and we exchanged gifts that were put under the tree in the mess hall.

I started this letter last nite but didn’t feel up to finishing it so perhaps I can tonight. Had some films come in today so here are a few.

I just came back from a show at our open air theater—pretty good too.

And here’s a copy of our paper sort of done up in Christmas style. It doesn’t seem any easier to write tonight than it did last (nite) so I’ll let the rest of the contents suffice for this time. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll have time and more words.

Love,

22 December 1942

Dearest Folks:

I have plenty of time this evening so here’s another dubious attempt at a letter. A poker game is going on nearby and it’s a temptation but have several letters to answer. I engage in the sport to some extent but not enough to imperial my finances. I had two letters today, one from you and one from Nancy. I seldom miss a day for letters unless there is no mail at all. Your letters arrive in pretty good time but often not in the order you write them, for instance the ones today were dated earlier than your last airmail. Censorship precludes giving the exact date, the theory being the enemy might be able to ascertain by schedules, our station. Yesterday the piece of wedding cake came. It was hard but I nibbled on it and ate the candy. The bells add a little to the adornment of my bunk. Also the Reader’s Digest came. There is an article in it called “Never Shoot An Hawaiian Twice”. I’ve heard the story over here several times.

I don’t know what I’m going to write about for news. I suppose you have the papers by now. This weeks (battalion newspaper) is out done up in a little fancy Xmas cover. I’ll send it. Gladys Davis has been writing regularly and gives me the dope on the guys that I lived with. I sure want to go back. If Congress passes the six month’s pay for the expiration perhaps it would be easier but anything may be a long shot now. Maybe I’m wrong but I believe after the war there will be many opportunities. With the organization and development that aircraft will undoubtedly realize, every country in the world will be open to development. Wait and see.

This is all I can dig up tonight. I can’t realize its Christmas but every time I hear a carol it beings back plenty.

Love,

16 December 1942

Dear Folks:

I really owe you some apologies for not writing for the past five days and I don’t know why I didn’t either. Your letter with the flower came yesterday and the flower was in good shape and preserved well. Also the clippings of the marriage and the shower. I can imagine what probably happened on the big day. Christmas is scarcely a week away it hardly seems possible. And another birthday too. Time certainly is fleeting. I believe the big attraction of our holiday will be an Hawaiian festival which is a roasting of chickens and pigs in a ground oven. And I understand a native will be the chef. Maybe he can cook the army out of them.

I’m glad to hear that Dick is in the Air Corps. It is the best place for him I believe. It makes me feel a little funny to have him in, but the feelings aren’t primary I guess.

Today the paper came out so here’s a copy for you to keep for me for some future reference. I don’t have the piece of wedding cake yet. The cable must have made good time to get to you the day after Thanksgiving. That reminds me of the one you sent to me in (Camp) Stoneman.

I think the three page deal last nite will compensate for the ‘shortie’ tonight. I would sure like some more stationery like that—you sent in the boxes. One box is still on the way.

And I always think of you too—

Love,

9 December 1942

Dear Folks:

I’ve been looking forward to taking it easy this evening and writing you so here goes. Haven’t received a letter from you for four days now but they’ll be here soon. The Thanksgiving box came in excellent condition.

I have a pass coming up Saturday but that wouldn’t be unusual if I didn’t have a date. She’s darn good looking so I’ll probably last only one round.

There certainly isn’t much to write about, everything is routine or else it is restricted. I’m enclosing another issue of the paper. My contribution is on page two. Maybe I should have it sent to you.

Had a letter from Jack Lewellen today. I’m not busting to answer it but guess I’d better do it soon.

I have another batch of pictures at the photographers so I’ll be sending some soon. Have been getting the Free Presses, but don’t have any magazines yet.

I think if you look on the paper you can catch more of a glimpse of Army life here than what I could say about. Boy I can’t write worth a darn tonight.

I can’t wait until Katie’s pictures get here. I know they’ll be good.

I really can’t get together much of a letter tonight but at least I wanted to write you and send the paper.

Love,

Will you send me another box or two like the stationery you sent?

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,

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,

5 November 1942

Dear Folks:

This is going to (be) a short round and definitely not newsy but stationery is plentiful and I’m loafing so here goes.

All your duck and pheasants sound good from here—Don must be developing a shootin’ eye. I guess him and Hammy really made a pair.

I’m enclosing the first page of our paper and on it you will find a few lines by me on the outfit—this is the second time I’ve been in but couldn’t find a copy of last weeks.

For the past three days a crew of men have been harvesting a field of cane adjacent to our camp—it’s quite a process and entails the use of a lot of equipment including caterpillars and derricks to lift the cane onto small cars on a narrow gauge railroad track. But before the stuff is cut it is burned to destroy the underbrush and facilitate cutting.

All that fancy stuff about Kate’s wedding has the tone of a coronation.

I might be putting on the gloves with the censor but we are near a town about the size of Ritchell and it has a large Kress store and a couple other up to date establishments. I mailed two or three packages a few days ago so let me know if you get them. Couldn’t find anything for Don or Dick but I’ll find something.

There’s a soldier’s program from Hawaii, in fact two or three I believe and I think you can get them.

I think I’m getting all your mail although it doesn’t arrive as rapidly as mine does to you.

The General was around today but guess we’re up to snuff enough to satisfy him.

Well, am out of material so here’s the curtain.

Love,