Beer Archives - Moss Letters

3 September 1945

Dear Folks:

Had a letter from Mom today telling me about your Denver visit. Quite a bit different than when we went as a whole family and had the car loaded down with everything. I sure hope you had a good time. I know Dan Gettman had been sent to the hospital and was later evacuated but I didn’t know he was at Fitzsimmons. He got deaf from the guns. I wished you could have met him – he would have told you a lot about Okinawa and how I was. He used to take a leg off me, but I usually liked to listen.

I’ll bet the corn and watermelon are ripe at home. A National Geographic magazine found its way into our tent and it had an article about Nebraska with pictures of Scottsbluff and the Valley. It really got my interest.

It looks like I will be on my way [home] very soon although I can’t say for sure just when. These last days seem very long. How I would like to fly back, but I suppose it will be by boat.

I suppose Phil is on the high seas somewhere and I can imagine Carol is anxious but she shouldn’t be worried. One of the guys in my tent had a wedding anniversary a few days ago. Married six years and been home only two years to celebrate them. We drank a beer to commemorate it. Glad to hear Nancy was going to Denver. Yes, I can hear all the giggling that must have went on.

Bill E. told me in a letter of his [illegible] when he was overseas that someday he was going to marry Helen Wood – so I guess he will. Starting from scratch I think I better snatch a young co-ed at Lincoln.

And don’t bother with any Christmas boxes. I hope to eat apples on Halloween night with you or see the sugar mills begin their fall run.

When I get back I don’t want to see many people, just stick around the house and be a lazy bum. But I probably won’t for long. You don’t know the wonderful change it will be.

Of course the Japanese radio sounds much different than it did before. Begging the people to be fixing and build for a greater Japan. I could go to Japan if I wanted to but I just couldn’t do anything to keep me away from home any longer.

My last couple of letters probably sounded like I was a little peeved but it’s because everyday seems so long until I get started back. Don’t forget if you don’t hear from me for a week don’t write any longer. Also advise Reader’s Digest of my old and civilian address.

Love,

17 August 1945

Dear Folks:

Had a nice batch of mail today so I better deserve it and try to answer some of it. Had a letter from Dad, one from Kate, one from Washington, and a letter from the University of Nebraska.

Well it appears that the war is over, and that it will be official today or tomorrow. I’m saving my last two bottles of beer for the celebration, and I can’t hold off much longer. The actual reality of the things hasn’t taken hold yet. Now I suppose you have figured that I should be home in a very short time, perhaps a month or so, but as a matter of fact it doesn’t appear that way. It seems that something always happens to delay it, and they have an excuse readily handy. Our outfit is always at the wrong place at the wrong time. For all I know we may be used for occupation forces and no telling how much longer a delay that will mean. If I’m not on my way in a month and a half I’ll start blowing up. It will be three years over here and four [years] away from home, and I’ve had about all I want. A lot of delays, red tape and excuses such as shipping and replacements is getting too common. This hot stinking Pacific and three years looking into oriental faces is too much. I guess what gets me started is the good deal the troops in Europe get, and their short stays overseas, and then in the Free Press today I see Capt. Fred Chambers, never overseas, in four years is back to Dorothy’s wedding. I feel like I could get roaring drunk tonight and poke somebody just to be doing it.

I better return to normal and discuss things more sensibly. Kate’s far between letters made an appearance today, but she didn’t have much to say. Said she was chasing Steve on her day off. I guess I better try to answer it tonight. In the letter from Washington she wants me to see her before heading home. In her letter she said ‘probably you’ll be on your way before you get this letter’. Golly if she only knew, but everybody’s like that I guess. The civilians think that whenever they hear an announcement over the radio it will just be a matter of weeks before it will take effect. They think you apply for furloughs, readjustment etc, but actually you just sit back and wait and hope and think.

One of Dad’s good letters came along too, I see you don’t know just what to do about the store and the company, and I can imagine how you feel. Dick and I thought you should stick with the company for a while yet. Dick shouldn’t be in the army too much longer and I bet he’d help you, and I would too for the time that I am home. Dick and I always talk over the humble beginnings of your store, and now we are proud as the devil of you. There are certainly lots of possibilities as you say. You seem to be doing very good, and Dick and I could hardly believe it. And what you say about the store is interesting, not boring.

Dick and I would both like you to send Nancy away for a while and let her have a good time. I know she must deserve it and I know how much I would have looked forward to it if I were her age. Better send her, it will do her good.

Yesterday afternoon I went to a hardball game and saw the XXIV Corps play Naha airfield, and the Corps won. It was the firsthand ball game I’d seen in a long time so I liked it. We had to sit in a broiling sun with our fannies on the ground so I’m a little sore today. And I’ve been playing a little softball today myself. Was playing second base and when trying to put a man out he charged me in the ribs and a couple of them are pretty sore tonight.

It is really hot, just knocks the sap out of you. Sweat all the time.

Well I think I’ll knock off and start on another letter. Censorship soon [will] be lifted now that the war is over, but I haven’t heard anything about it.

So long for now.

Love,

3 August 1945

Dear Folks:

This is one of those rainy days when you feel like sleeping, and being cozy but I can’t do it when I have so many letters to write. Mail has been coming slow the past couple of days but with the rainy weather it’s no wonder. It has been raining hard and almost without let up for two days now. But we are sleeping in pyramidal tents and except when we go out we keep pretty dry. Along with the rain is driving winds that blow the rain in sheets. Boy it really rains. You’d think the whole countryside was going to blow away. But this afternoon it looks like the clouds may be breaking up a little and I hope it does before the show tonight.

Two nights ago I sat through a drenching rain on a sandbag to see ‘Valley of Decision’. If it had been any other show I would have left. I thought it was excellent. If it isn’t rain, it [is] usually an air raid, or something else that stops the show.

A short time ago at an ungodly hour in the morning, a Jap plane or planes came over and then I heard a clatter of machine guns. Either they were strafing or our planes were trying to shoot them down. Believing it was all over I went back to bed and was about to sleep when I heard that watery, swishy sound of a bomb falling. I rolled out of bed without regard to the mosquito bar and pulled it down with me to the floor. It was funny. By the time all of us were up going out the door of the tent, we heard another coming so we all flopped to the floor and waited. Then they went off and it was quiet. To have a plane up there dropping eggs out of a black night isn’t pleasant. But my hitting the floor so fast and ripping my net in the process, caused me some ribbing, but I believe in hitting the dirt fast. You should see us hug old Mother earth when things get hot.

Had a letter from Dad yesterday. I hope you’re right about the war being over soon but I don’t know. Japan is taking a lot, but she can absorb plenty more.

Got the clipping about Wylma getting married. It’s kind of hard to believe after having gone with her so long and knowing her as I did. But like a lot of other guys it’s just a case of being away too long. In the letter I got from her she didn’t mention him, in fact she seemed unattached altogether.

I have been waiting to hear from Dick. We sent some boys home on furlough and I thought perhaps he might have gotten one from his outfit. As afar as my getting home is concerned it is just sit and wait and not worry about it. Dick has 71 points but I’m afraid it will not be lowered that much although later he may become eligible. I’m not eligible for furlough now unless I sign up to stay in the service, which I wouldn’t do with my score. I couldn’t say whether Dick was going into combat again or not if I knew, but I really don’t know. I believe he’s living fairly decent now, and I hope he can stay with me for a few days.

Was just issued two bottles of beer, but better save them for some other time.

I guess this is all I can think of this time. I’m feeling fine, and not being overworked, and I think I’ve added a pound or two in the last three weeks.

Until the next time.

Love,

23 July 1945

Dear Folks:

This won’t be much of a letter but in order to kill a little time before [the] show probably I ought to write you. It’s been hot as hell today and the sweat has been rolling off me, but I feel better after a shower.

We had our first beer ration – four bottles. It’s warm but it’s still good.

Received two Free Presses today – one of them dated this month. It seems like every issue I read about this guy Seich being on a furlough. Has he even been overseas? Another is Clifford Teiser – what a racket he must have. But when I get home I expect it to be permanent.

I don’t [know] when I’ll see Dick again. We are a long ways apart now, but I hope I can have him down for a few days soon. Don’t know where Duane is.

Dug out my law books today and glanced over them a little. I have quite a little time to study now.

In Gladys Davis’ letter yesterday she said she was in Minatare Armistice Day and tried to get hold of you but could find no one [home]. I wished you could have seen her.

Well I told you this letter wouldn’t be much and so it is. But at least it’s some word [from me].

Love,

21 July 1945

Dear Folks:

Excuse the fancy stationery but I don’t feel like looking for something better. Had four letters this evening from Dad, Phil, Pat and Dick, so I better write someone tonight.

It’s been hot and sultry today and the weather is continuing [to] dry. But we have a clean position away from road dust and noise. Today a little after noon the island was declared secure so the battle has officially ended although there probably are many Japs still running around in small bands. Two Japs came around last night but were quickly dealt with in final fashion. But to have the island secure is a relief and probably soon we will get some movies, some beer and a little rest. Suppose you have heard General Buckner was killed. It was a big surprise to me. Today up the road a ways, someone was blasting Jap caves and every so often a big bang blew up smoke and flame. Probably some Nips were found there. Civilian Okinawans and Japs are giving up in large numbers and yesterday a family of six were rounded up. They sat near the CP while waiting for a truck to take them to a civilian compound and I looked them over. The father had on a battered hat and a toon shirt and a loin cloth and leading his two little boys. As always the wife trudged behind carrying a very young baby on her back held up by a cloth bound around his seat and one around his neck. His head was lolled back, sound asleep. And a hold of her shirt was her oldest, a girl of four or five. They were very silent, and looked like they had always worked hard. Probably the wife could walk all day with her baby on her back. The father had a stub of a cigarette and when he wanted it lit he bowed many times and showed complete humility. Finally the truck came and they look[ed] a little scared and the children hung on to their mother. A Marine helped them in the truck and as they rode away the mother nursed her baby and the children clung to her in fright. Probably they felt for sure they would be killed. They are Japs but I thought how hopeless life must have looked to them. Probably they had all huddled in a cave every day for the last two months, thinking the world had exploded, and at the same time trying to hold their family together and keep the children safe and warm. But they will be better off now. How fortunate American civilians are.

Talk of demobilization still holds the conversational spotlight and at present I am optimistic. I think it will come in six months but it will seem to drag I know.

Had a package from Gram and Gramp yesterday – some playing cards and a bar of maple sugar. How I used to crave it as a boy and I still do. I will write them tomorrow – Gram is so sympathetic and sweet.

Well it’s getting pretty dusk so I better wind up. Hang on a little longer and soon we’ll be together for good.

Love,

1 June 1945

Dear Folks:

I haven’t written you for several days so I imagine you feel a little anxious. But the fact is, it has been so rainy and muddy that I couldn’t get myself to sit down to write. I think the worst part of the campaign is over, so you can feel much better. The hardest part has gone by for me, and I think the Japs are standing on their last legs now. For some time now there hasn’t been any shells come over, which is a great relief to me. And after the campaign is over, I think we will have it easy for a while, and get a little beer and movies.

Received a letter from Dad yesterday, about the only (thing) that has come in the past three or four days. Maybe the inclement weather has kept the mail planes down. Over 13” inches (of rain) fell in the past week, so you can imagine how the water must have been flowing around here. Contrary to the weatherman’s prediction that June 1^st would be the climax of the rain, today is sunshiny and sultry. Had a chance to get most of my stuff dried out. I had a lot of pictures in my billfold and they all got soaked. I have them laying in the grass now to dry out a little. But the sky always looks like another storm could break any time. Then they tell us the typhoon season begins around the 15^th. I’ve never been in a typhoon, but if they are like what I’ve seen in shows and read about, I’m not looking forward to them. But we’ll be expecting them and prepare for it.

Haven’t seen Dick or Duane since our visit quite a long time ago. But I know Dick is too far away to see me very conveniently. I don’t know where Duane is, but I’ll locate him after the island is secured. I wrote to Dick a week ago but haven’t heard from him yet. I’m sure he is okeh.

From my standpoint, nothing exciting has happened. Since the nights the Jap landed some troops behind the lines by airplanes, there has not been many planes over. Sometime ago I was standing on a hill looking into the bay when a Jap plane suddenly appeared without warning. Black flak hit all around him but he kept flying straight then dove straight for a ship. I was pulling like hell the gunners would get him before he hit the ship. He kept coming down then he burst into a ball of fire and hit the ocean. I felt like I did when the home team made a touchdown. Then after he hit a shell came whistling over and the six guys standing around my hole all dove into it, me on the bottom, with our heads as low as we could get them. You’d be surprised how fast you can move. But it was the only one and slowly heads began to reappear and then most everybody starts laughing when they think of how fast they got undercover. One night the 1^st sergeant and I were listening to the radio when we heard a whistle. Having no prepared hole immediately available, we both hit a small ditch which wasn’t long enough. My usual speed put me in the ditch first, and he dove on top, laying behind me with his nose in my buttocks, which was humorous when the excitement was over.

Haven’t heard from Wylma for a long time. Could you find out what the score is?

I haven’t had enough to start another page so I’m going to the aid station to work a crossword puzzle.

Love,

23 May 1945

Dear Folks:

Fulfilling my prediction of last night, the weather has turned rainy and so today the area is a big mud pond. Don’t do much walking around now and while I’m sitting here just as well utilize the time.

Had a letter from my old landlady in Lincoln today – Mrs. Davis. She lives at the same place and really misses the old gang. And how I miss them too. I hope she is making it alright. Don’t know whether I told you or not but some time ago I had a letter from my roomy Kenny Miller. Remember him? He is the law student who graduated in ’41. He is in England and wanted to whip up a correspondence with me. He was a great guy.

I’m certainly in love with the pen you sent me – it’s such a beauty and I’m always using it.

Received a January Free Press yesterday, and though it was old, it still offered some good, homey news. If my envelopes look beat up and opened it’s because of the weather. The flaps always stick so I have to lick each one and soak it off, and that takes most of the glue off.

Well believe I’ll plow through the mud and go down to listen to Bob Hope on the radio. But I have to do a few things before then so I better sign off.

I (am) feeling very good and sleeping dry and good despite the wet weather. After the campaign will probably have movies and a little beer ration which will improve our lot. If I can just stay on this island until my time comes to go back I’ll be satisfied. It isn’t a bad place at all.

Love,

27 February 1945

Dear Folks:

Had a nice letter from Dad today so as long as I couldn’t stand the show just as well spend the time writing. Have been feeling very bad all day. My old kidney attacks began early this morning and haven’t let up all day except that I feel pretty decent now. I went to the hospital again this morning for a urinalysis but won’t know the result until tomorrow. Later the doctor felt around, took my blood pressure, and thumped a few places. He thinks it is urethral colic or perhaps auritis. It has been effecting me on and off for the past two weeks. Sometimes it gets pretty bad. Well the doc told me to go to bed for a few days and wait to see what the hospital does.

I’m keeping very busy but feeling like I do, I don’t have much ambition sometimes.

Pat sent me her picture a few days ago and she is an attractive girl. She writes me often.

I’m sure I’m not getting too much beer – perhaps it would average up to about a bottle every 3 days and lately we have had none at all.

As far as Christmas packages go, I have given up – they are surely sunk. The other mail comes good and I think the others would be here if it was possible.

Now as far as my experience with the Red Cross and what they are doing here. Practically all our emergency furloughs are based on their recommendations and that’s practically the only way to get one. That’s why it is important to contact them first when something serious happens at home. Other than that I’ve had no dealing with them. I think they do most of their work at the hospital. Occasionally a Red Cross girl comes around in a truck with cokes, a little candy and a ready conversation. A field worker is always handy and they have been every place I have.

The wind has been blowing all day and the dirt and sand is something fierce. I hope it rains soon. It raises hell with our typewriters and everything rusts overnight. What a country. But last night was very beautiful with a bright moon and the tall palm trees. For the moment at least, I imagined the war was non-existent.

I have nothing more, I feel like hitting the hay and calling it another day.

Love,

17 February 1945

Dear Folks:

What a pleasant day this has been. After I got through today there was a small package for me and of course it was the pen and pencil set. It is certainly a nice and beautiful set. I will have much use for it. I am always writing or doing paper work. You are a good shopper and it’s exactly what I wanted, and Schaeffer is my favorite brand.

Also had a letter from Pat and she always writes a long rambling one that is really good to read. She wants to send me something. And also received the October issue of Reader’s Digest. Things are gradually catching up with me. Perhaps all packages will arrive before long. And also had a letter from Mom. I think I’d have a hard time finding that fellow you mentioned, it’s quite a job to locate anyone and tougher to get around. And as he is in the Marine Air Corps, it would be harder yet. But you can never tell. Was glad to hear Gramp is better and especially that the pain has subsided. But I wonder what they will do now – probably wind up back in California. With all the Red Cross work you have, I imagine you will be very busy. But I guess all the Mosses are busy now. How different it must be now from what it was a few years back when the care and maintenance of your brood was more than a full job. I hope it will always be easy for both of you from now on.

It will be suppertime soon and after that will probably drink a beer and play a little cards. Perhaps there will be a show tonight. Got another shot yesterday and today the arm is a little tender. Tried to get a refraction at the hospital a few days ago but they were too busy. I have one pair but you can never tell when you might break them. Well this is all. I wrote this with the new pen – good stuff. Thank you many times.

Love,

16 February 1945

Dear folks,

I just finished cleaning up my mess then lit up a cigar and opened a beer and now ready to spend the balance of the evening writing letters—and always you’re the first on the list. I made the mess while trying to build a box to send the bolo and the scandals and finally completed the job and I think it will stick together at that. I had a Filipino girl get the scandals for me and she did pretty good. She’s also the laundry girl.

About four nights I saw a leg show with real white girls and civilians. The USO put on ‘Hellz-poppin’. There must have been a dozen chorus girls and two or three men. Needless to say the theater area was packed and the fact that a brisk shower cut loose had little effect on the guys. Neither did the singer complain—she just stood in the rain and kept going. It was full of laughs and with the right amount of spice. It was the best overseas show I’ve seen yet. I hope we can have more of them.

Had another letter today—a V-letter from Mom. I’m afraid I can’t answer the questions you put in that one.

Also two Free Presses came along but haven’t had much time to read them yet. Did see the pictures of the Sage boys, but the boys. I can imagine the banker Sage is quite a cigar smoking important individual.

A few days ago last week a Red Cross dame came around with a truckload of cold Coke and peanuts so we lined up with our mess cups and drank up. She had on slacks with the pants rolled up and about everyone was looking in the same direction. We must be getting to be wolves, huh?

I wished I could think of more to write about but nothing seems to want to pop up. I can’t help but feel that this year sometime we will either get a few furloughs or rotation. In every Free Press I read about fellows getting back. It seems like everyone has been home at some time or other. It’s hard to imagine myself getting home. About every night we get a strong blow and lots of rain and sometimes I think the tents will come down. If they would we’d be a sorry bunch of wet rats. A rain can from out of a clear sky in five minutes and then it all cuts loose. And after that it’s hot as hell. Had steaks for dinner yesterday with good dark gravy so that was a treat.

That’s really all I’m good for so this is it.

Love,