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25 October 1944

25 October 1944

Dear Folks:

I have wanted to write you all day and I hope this letter gets to you with all possible speed.   I’m afraid my last two epistles didn’t sound too cheerful, and you may have thought I was quite the old grouch, and probably you felt a little bad about them, so I want to make amends for them and try to make you believe I didn’t mean all of it.  I received two letters from you last night and they were such good ones that I felt like a two bit heel.  So please attribute them to the mood I was in and not any kind of a criticism of you.  I know how you feel and how you must worry and I shouldn’t do anything to make it worse for you, so accept my apologies, and believe me when I say I didn’t mean them.

Well today was sort of a red letter one.  No, not furloughs or a big stack of mail or anything like that, just some fresh meat.  A couple of ex-cowhands took a jeep and shot a young cow from one of the herds that run around here.  They slaughtered it and got it ready and the cooks did a good job of turning out a real supper tonight – really hit the spot.  If the spuds hadn’t been dehydrated it would have been perfect.

Saw the movie ‘Mr. Skeffington’ tonight and I thought it was superb.  One of the best I have seen in a long time.  No war or flag waving exhibitions, just a good peacetime cinema.  I thought it was great and the moral behind it was very good.  Bette Davis is tops in my book.

In Dad’s letter last night he said the souvenirs had arrived OK.  Was the box broken up and was everything there?  There are so many regulations connected with the mailing of souvenirs that I wondered if anything had happened to them.  And don’t forget to mail me the clipping that Si Parker had about them.

And another bright spot on the calendar this week.  For the first time since last May I had a coke.  Yep, we were issued ten of them – I don’t know how long they will last – but I look on each one as a precious treasure and hate to drink one.  Even though we can’t cool them very well they still taste pretty good.  The beer situation is getting better and I think I have about six or seven cans left.  Usually drink one every night just before the show.

Gee mom it sounds like you were pretty worried about me when I had the fever, but really it wasn’t as bad as I believe you imagined.  It’s all over now and I feel fine again.  As a matter of fact I feel better than I have for some time.

I can just visualize how much trouble you went to, to get Dick’s and my boxes ready and you don’t know how good it makes me feel to know that – well that’s just the kind of parents they are and whatever they would do for us they wouldn’t think it would be enough.  As each month goes by I wake up a little more to the fact that you are both the best in the world, and then those inconsiderate things I used to do and the worries I caused for you come in my thoughts, and I wonder if I can ever show you all the respect and love you both deserve.

We haven’t received any second class mail in weeks so of course that means I don’t get the Free Press, so you be sure and throw in all those clippings – even the little ones about anybody I used to know.  I suppose soon the mail will come rushing in like a broken dam and I’ll be reading for weeks to catch up.  Of course the first class is coming regularly and in fine time.  I’ll bet you’re really busy taking care of Dick’s and my letters, and I’ll bet you never wrote so much in your life – even love letters.

Shirley Carroll’s dilemma is indeed a sorry one, but it seems to be following a typical Carroll pattern.  If it hadn’t have been this, it would have been something else.  Perhaps she should have been more careful, although I do feel sorry for her and thought she would make out better than most of them.

The little mention of the fiddle is something I often think about, and I get a deep urge to play it again.  Your ears must have been very sympathetic when I picked it up.  And my gas models often put a curb in my daydreams.  I’ve thought that after the war I would start in again as a hobby, and have a little more to do with (it).

Well the lights around the area are going out one by one and I seem to be one of the few left so maybe I better be thinking about hitting the hay.  But be sure and pick out all the nice things in those sour letters and forget the bad ones.  I guess we all get (into) moods and I don’t know what made me that way.

Love,

Harold Moss Signature
5 October 1944

5 October 1944

Dear Folks:

I haven’t written to you for six days now because in that time I have had the dengue fever and it does a pretty effective job of making you feel miserable and putting you out.  My fever was up pretty good for the first few days and now it has gone although I still feel hot and have a red   doppler rash.  The fever hits your muscles and every joint aches, especially the small of your back.  Was around today but felt too weak to do much. I think I weigh about one twenty-eight so I’m underweight a little. The menu consists largely of dehydrated foods and that scourge of the army ‘Spam’ and as I don’t eat them, don’t get fat.  We have not had an ice cold drink or dessert in four months.  Oh! but I do have beside me again tonight a bottler of Pabst beer and that will soothe my ruffled feelings.  It is about as warm as a leftover dinner but I’m getting used to that.

Last night I received the letter about the proposed move to Bridgeport.  I thought about going back home too but I hope Dad takes the job.  I think it’s a darn good break and I’m sure Bridgeport will be a fine place to live.  But as you said don’t move into a house that isn’t nicer than the one we have now.  Dick and I will probably be here quite a while yet and you will have plenty of time to fix the place up, but it would be disheartening to not come back to the anything but the best.  Minatare may fold up someday and the idea of living in Bridgeport sounds good to me.  So I say go ahead and although we may not like it now we’ll like it more in the future.  What will you do with the house and the store?

Had a letter from Dick last night.  Good to hear from him.  Well I’m plenty tired and feel weak so I’m going to stop for tonight.

Lots of love,

Harold Moss Signature
16 September 1944

16 September 1944

Dearest Folks:

Yesterday was a banner day (as my banner days go).  During the morning I had been a way from camp doing a little firing and when I returned about eleven Jack came busting in like a Kansas cyclone.  Now the situation was reversed, I had been going over to see him and here he was chatting with me in my boudoir.  He had gone to Aslito airfield on Saipan on his day off and while there decided to pay me a visit.  He went to operations and found that in order to get over (here) he needed a signed certificate to the effect that he was officially off duty, and having only a few minutes he got such a slip from an engineer captain and so just made the plane over.  Said he was a little outranked on the plane – opposite him was a colonel and two lieutenant colonels.  After a long trip of four minutes he landed at Tinian and immediately started to find my outfit.  First he hooked a ride with (a) navy chief who took him in a general direction.  Next he was picked up by a Seabee and finally after a half dozen lifts, he found me.  You usually wander around in fifty different directions trying to find an outfit.  Jack came over on some picture business and brought a little New York photographer with a camera the size of a typewriter case.  The major was good enough to let us use his jeep and so from noon until five we traveled the length and breadth of the island and I pointed out to Jack and Jake the interesting points.  They were happy to have a look around and we were especially lucky to get a car to do it in.  They ran around getting the choice shots and while they were doing it I wondered how by the fortunes of luck and war Jack and I were nosing through the debris of Tinian, much as we had knocked around together back home.  Every now and then when we would ride along or do something we could liken to a similar situation back in Nebraska.  Jack was wearing a shoulder holster and dark glasses and looked like a swashbuckling commando general.  We went in some rough places and the jeep nearly threw us all out more than once.  Jack had been stuck pretty close to camp since being on Saipan and it was a treat for him to get out and see something.  All in all it was a good sightseeing tour and I’m sure Jack and Jake enjoyed it.  I hope to get over to Saipan once before I leave although it’s hard to lay plans much in advance.

Aside from this break in the routine tonight was another beer issue day and another three cans is waiting to be opened.  Cooling it is a problem and I don’t go for it lukewarm.

Yesterday received a notice from Reader’s Digest about a postwar deal so returned the card.  Also had a letter from Nancy.  She must be quite grown up by the tone of her letters and probably I’ll be plenty surprised at the change when I get home.  I can well imagine the changes that have taken place in three years but even at that I’ll have to treat them different when I get back.

In case you had forgotten this month is my third anniversary – I mean in the army.  The 18th will end up three years and a five percent increase in wages.  I must be getting to be what they call a veteran – although I can’t see myself one of those things.  I hope I won’t put in another hitch before I see home again.

Well I don’t know much else there is to write about.  I surely enjoy your letters too especially those l-o-n-g ones.  Probably when we are home again you will swear never to write another, and I’ll bet that gets to be as much a problem as the washing used to (be).  My correspondents are very few and aside from you I don’t do much writing, although as the war nears the end I better start looking for a spouse.  I keep thinking how lazy and ner-do-well I’m going to be for a few months after the war – and how sweet and heavenly it will be to stretch out in a full bed and when the sun comes up pull the covers up a little higher and sleep a couple more hours – or feel the heavy blanket when it’s still and frosty and freezing outside – or a hundred other little things that I think of from time to time.

So I guess I’ll know(?) off tonight and maybe open up a can before bed time.

Love,

Harold Moss Signature
7 September 1944

7 September 1944

Dear Folks:

Now if I had a cigar I would be enjoying a truly pleasant summer evening.  Beside me I have two cans of Regal Pale Beer, and their presence probably makes this the biggest day since D-Day. It was our first issue and consisted of three cans to last four days.  It was the first I have seen or smelled in four and a half months.  After each few lines I smack my lips like a well fed dog and sit back in great satisfaction.  But this wasn’t all that made today memorable.  Most of this business affords little cause for celebration but occasionally something comes along to make things seem brighter and build you up for a while longer.  For the past three weeks our mail had, for some reason, been held up and we had nary a single communiqué from the home front, and yesterday it came rushing in.  My own take was twelve although my stable mate who is married with a child rated forty-six of them.  Among them was a letter from Mrs. Dick, one from Mark Gardner (whom I went to school with in Lincoln), Glen, Bill, Gram, and Kate along with three from you two.  The one from Mrs. Dick was especially well written and her last paragraph was a treasure.  I wish I could quote it to you.  She wanted me to tell you that I had received it, so whenever you get down that way, give her the word.  (At this point I open my second can of beer).

Yesterday I finally got around to packing the souvenirs and getting them sent.  First each item had to be stamped by the Joint Intelligence then the box had to be passed by the local censor.  You will probably wonder what is coming off when you get it.  It’s a big box and is pretty heavy.  In it is a Jap sword which is a highly prized souvenir and commands quite a price.  Other items are a belt on which the sword is worn, a Jap battle flag, and a bayonet with scabbard and belt.  I was with Dick when he found the sword and the other items he got himself.  I sent it yesterday the 6th of August (I think he meant September)  and insured it for $150.  Dick was especially anxious that I got them sent okeh.

I felt quite honored at the compliments about my descriptive letter about Saipan.  The fellows in the office told me about the same thing that you wrote and when I was writing it wondered what in the heck I was putting in it and what was there to write about.  I let Dick read part of it and he said ‘Gee whiz you writin’ all that?’ and then he shook his head quite characteristically.

The paper enclosed is a mainland issue of the Dispatch as you can see – I thought you might be interested.  A few points that aren’t often written about that the folks back home wonder about.  Yesterday I was quite domestic – ran off a batch of laundry and ruined the King’s English saying this was a woman’s job.  Hung it up to dry later and then it rained and soaked them good.  I should of got married when I was at home.  I read the little article about the veterans plan at the University and want to take advantage of it if I’m not ‘retained’ too long.  But then I have a lot of ideas as to what I’m going to do when this is over, among others – getting married, seeing some more of the world, a job, and the highest priority right now, getting back to school.  I’d work like a son-of-a-gun at it if I could get back.  No more fooling around.  Well it’s getting late sunset (the prettiest I’ve seen) and the electricity ain’t so I’ve got to put the cover on this thing and take a bath.  I had intended to write more tonight but it’s just getting too dark to see so here’s adios for this time.

Love,

Harold Moss Signature
Attached with the Letter: An article from the Saipan Post Dispatch, August 10, 1944

THE SAIPAN POST DISPATCHA Newspaper for Enlisted Men

Published by Army Garrison Force

Vol. I   No. 41   (Mainland Issue)     Saipan, M.I.        Thursday, August 10,1944

EDITOR:  This issue of the Saipan Post Dispatch has been prepared for the folks at home.  Today’s issue contains in capsule from an historical resume of the Marianas.  Certain portions of the masthead have been deleted to meet censorship requirements; subsequently daily issues of this paper are not to be mailed until further notice.

SAIPAN:  The Marianas, of which Saipan was the capital, form a chain of 14 islands and one group of three small islands.  All are of volcanic origin.  They constitute together with the Marshall, Caroline and Gilbert Islands, the insular area of the Pacific known as Micronesia.  The four principal islands of the Marianas are Saipan, Guam, Tinian and Rota.  It is believed that the Marianas were originally people by the migration wave from Indonesia which settled in the rest of Micronesia, namely the Caroline, Marshall and Gilbert Islands.  There are many resemblances between the Micronesians and the Polynesians.  The latter settled in the remoter parts of the Pacific and differ in language and culture.  In the Marianas, the Chamorros, of all the various Micronesian peoples, strongly resemble in physique, culture and language, the inhabitants of the Philippines and the Dutch West Indies.

In December 1520, Magellan with three ships sailed into the Pacific, and on March 6, 1521 discovered the islands of Guam, Rota, Saipan and Tinian.  Eltano, Magellan’s subaltern, revisited Rota in 1524.  The Spanish explorer, Leaisa, reached Guam in 1526.  Admiral Logaspi landed on Saipan in 1564 and proclaimed sovereignty over the Marianas.   Quiros, another Spanish explorer, reached Saipan in 1596.  In 1668, Spain dispatched soldiers and missionaries to bring the Marianas under Spanish Control.  The islands were then named the Marianas in honor of Queen Maria Ana, widow of Philip IV of Spain, by the Jesuit missionary, Diego Luis de Sanvitores, who arrived in Guam from the Philippines.  The Spaniards ruled until 1898 when the American cruise ship Charleston, commanded by Captain Henry Glass, steamed into the harbor at Guam and opened fire upon Fort Santa Cruz.  Through its capture, Guam was separated from the rest of the Marianas.  In 1899, the Germans purchased the Marianas from the Spanish for $4,500,000 and ruled them, Guam accepted, until 1914.  In October 1914, a Japanese naval squadron took possession of the German Marianas Islands.  The principal objective of the Spanish administration was religious proselytism; the Germans wanted commercial expansion; the primary ends of Japanese policy were political and military.  Great Britain by secret agreement in March 1917, recognized the claims of Japan to all former German possessions in the Pacific north of the equator.  The approval of Franco and Russia was obtained by Japan.  At Versailles, American pressure was appeased by the origin of the Class C Mandate which differed from outright annexation only by imposing on the mandatory power a number of obligations.  The Marianas attracted little attention until 1932 when rumors gained currency that Japan was fortifying Truk and several other islands.  Japan denied this and when she withdrew from the League of Nations in March 1935, most American jurists opined that she should forfeit her mandate and the islands revert to the League.  Japan, however, kept the mandated territory, defining it as “an integral part of the Japanese empire.”  After 1938, when Japan discontinued the submission of an annual report to the League, all pretense of international supervision vanished, and the islands were increasingly treated as a closed military area.

The native Chamorros at one time were skilled navigators and canoe builders; when into-island commerce was suppressed by the Spaniards, the Chamorros lost their skill and never regained it.  The Carolinians were expert navigators and when they were allowed to settle on Saipan during the nineteenth century, the Spanish government, which had practically no means of transportation at its disposal, stipulated that the Carolinian settlers should make an annual voyage to Guam via Tinian carrying the produce of the region.

Saipan was colonized by Captain Brown, an American, between 1810 and 1815.  Brown brought along several Americans and a few families of Hawaiians intending to set up a colony to trade with the whalers.  Spaniards snuffed out this enterprise in 1815.  Whalers visited the Marianas from 1825 until 1850, but their appearance had little effect upon the economy of the Marianas.  In 1869, an Irishman named Johnson leased Tinian and did a prolific business in cattle and pigs until 1875.

The native Chamorros who numbered between 70,000 and 100,000 in the 1650 period have decreased through war, famine and disease to a little over 5,000 in the entire Marianas today.  An infusion of Filipino and Spanish blood helped to save the Chamorros from extermination.  Even the mixed group, which is now dominant, when added to the full-blooded Chamorro population does not exceed the 5,000 total.  The trend created by the Spanish conquest virtually depopulated the natives of the Marianas.  Severe epidemics of smallpox, measles, whooping cough, and scarlet fever, introduced mainly by visiting whalers, ran rampant through the Marianas and served to offset the natural population increase.

SAIPAN SHORTS:

….Tinian has been conquered.  The expected banzai never developed.

.…The first motion picture show for American Troops on Tinian was held July 31st.  Several thousand yards forward death stalked friend and foe.

.…The superman halo attached to the hips in the early days has disappeared.  The burial of over 22,000 Japanese soldiers on Saipan brought home to Tokyo factual evidence of American power in the Pacific.  The fanatic fight of the Japs to sudden death makes the war in the Pacific one of the bloodiest in the annals of American history.  On Saipan, American casualties were over 15,000.

….Over 50 movie spots are operated on Saipan; some daily, others periodically.  The Garrison Theater has a potential capacity of 7,500 two-high sandbag seats facing a raised screen in front of which is a regulation boxing area.  This arena when completed will feature boxing bouts between Army, Navy and Marine pugilists.  It will also be used by chaplains for religious services.  Temporary staging will be added when “live” shows arrive on Saipan.  The island will be dotted with theaters constructed similarly.

….The 100-minute rainfall last night failed to dislodge 5,500 Garrisoin Theater patrons.  It seems that nothing short of an earthquake will discourage the crowds that attend the outdoor movies every night.

…..Chamorron, Korean and Japanese youths between the ages of 8 and 15 are given calisthenics daily.

..…A Jesuit missionary and 6 nuns escaped to the civilian camp a few days before Saipan’s fall.

….The Chamorro baseball team at the civilian camp has already trimmed an Army and Navy team.  Baseball scouts should include this spot in their ivory hunting itinerary.

…..One word every Chamorro boy and girl knows is “okay” and they use it habitually.

…..The communication miracle wired throughout the entire island is colossal enough to secure a bow from AT&T.

…..The Engineers have received many commendations, including one from the Navy.

….The Signal Corps Repair Shop has done an outstanding job in the maintenance of motion picture equipment.  They have gone out of their way on innumerable occasions to render technical advice and labor in order that “the show might go on”.

….The record of medical units on Saipan stands out in bold relief.  During the changeover from foxhole operations to permanent hospital facilities, with American nurses, they have written a new epoch in medical history.  The dispatch with which these units handled casualties in the bloodiest battle in the annals of American warfare reflects the extraordinary ability and skill of these responsible for its organization and operation.

….Congratulations to Connie Mack on his 50th anniversary in baseball.

….The Saipan Post Dispatch dedicates this issue to the St. Louis Post Dispatch as full payment for usurping part of their famous name and incorporating it into the masthead of the First American daily on Saipan, which as been published since July 1 (1944?).  If we can approach in excellence the distant shadows cast from Pulitzer’s bulwark of news reporting, then Ralph Coghlan, Fitzpatrick, etc., can rest assured that the traditions of their perennial sheet will not be ravaged by a mimeographed upstart on bloody Saipan.  We salute the St. Louis Muny Opera, Jack Shumacker’s famous turtle soup, Phil Hitchcock, Larry Goodwin’s St. Charles St. Lounge, Luke Sewell’s Browns, Cardinals, Ruggori’ Steak House where the late O. O. McIntyre dined, Parkview Hotel, Coronado, Anheuser-Busch, Griesedieck, Hyde Park, Alpen Brau, Falstaff, the Star-Times and Globe Democrat.

….The next issue will be dedicated to New York City

31 January 1943

31 January 1943

Dear Folks:

Now is a swell time to get off a few lines to you when everything is quiet and another day is done.  As usually happens I just got back from the show and saw a World Series game in the newsreels.  Today was Sunday but I spent most of it behind a typewriter or in the office.  It was a beautiful day to get out with a camera but I didn’t but in lieu of that, here is a picture that was taken when Joe E. Brown was here last week.  Of course you can spot him in the center and if you look close in the left upper corner you can see me.  I’m standing almost in front of the guy with the open jacket.  I think it is a good shot don’t you?  The portion of the building in the center background is our projection booth.

In a couple of days I will be on pass and will get the table set you mentioned.  I’m glad my bonds have been arriving.  I was beginning to get a little worried.  Soon I will send you a Honolulu paper.  Perhaps you would like one and on the other hand, maybe you can get a little more scope of the islands.  I hope you have received the other things by now.

I really can’t think of much to write about except anything very perfunatory (?).  Today we had a very swell dinner centered around delicious ham.  Last night I attended a party at my old battery and was even called upon to give a speech.  It was a good deal with lots of beer and the other accessories of cheese, etc.

Guess this is quits tonight.  Wished I could think of something to end this properly but I can’t, but I do think about you all the time.

Love,

Harold Moss Signature
27 November 1942

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,

Harold Moss Signature
6 October 1942

6 October 1942

Dear Mother and Dad:

In order to write a little more I’m not using V-mail but hope you will get this in decent time.  Yesterday was a boom day for mail so I’ll have plenty to answer although I’ve been writing almost everyday.

Got Dan’s letter and I’ll answer it tonight.

Today had the opportunity to get away from camp and ride around in a jeep to different parts of the island.   If you could get a look at these flowers along the road and the beautiful landscape you’d think you were in a greenhouse.  Guess I get a little daffy over the sights and the ocean is really blue seen from a high point.  I’m so drastically awkward with words that you’ll have to use your imagination.

Expecting a pass tomorrow or the next day—it will give some diversion, a show, a swim and perhaps a round of golf.  Theatres are quite modern with good films-in fact the towns near would be likened to any small town on the mainland, excepting the coconut trees and vegetation.  Liquor is rationed to a quart a week for civilians but is not available for soldiers.  Beer is plentiful but weak.  On pass we must carry our gas mask and helmet and have it with us at all time.  Civilians have them too but many

[missing last page of letter]

Harold Moss Signature
20 September 1942

20 September 1942

Dear Folks:

It’s getting pretty dark to write but perhaps I can get it done before it is completely dark.  I sent you a letter about a week ago by regular mail and I’m afraid you won’t receive it for some time, so thought I better write another.  Well I’m a couple of thousand miles more away from home across a stretch of Pacific in the Hawaiian Islands and what a pretty place—lots of flowers, sugar cane and pineapple.  Haven’t seen any hula dancers yet although they gave a show for the troops today.  Last night heard a program of real Hawaiian music by some native Hawaiians and it seems much nicer to hear it over here.  You’d go nuts Mom over all these flowers and shade trees.  For the last few days have been swimming almost daily and this afternoon was no exception.  It’s about two miles to the pool but it’s worth it, I mean the walk.  Yesterday afternoon there was a dance in a big USO building in a nearby town and to my surprise we were granted passes so we took a bus in and swang a few.  Boy what a conglomeration of people—Japs, Chinks, Hawaiians, Puerto Ricans and plenty of half breeds.  I think I danced with about one of each.  The USO has plenty of facilities for sports so not  lacking on that issue.  There are several tennis courts, swimming pools, dance halls, bowling alleys and ball diamonds and we’ve had access to them quite often lately.  I just got back from swimming about an hour ago and after a big supper feel pretty good.  It just started to rain so I had to pull this typewriter into a tent so from the cramped quarters you’ll have to accept a few mistakes.  The day after we got here I received a letter from Gladys Davis and of course it was full of news as is Gladys. She told me all about the fellows and the Davis’.  Then I also had a letter from you—one you had written before you visited me at (Camp) Stoneman.  And a few days back had a letter from Patsy and her flamboyant style makes her letters worth reading. Also had one from Gram that I’ll have to answer tonight.  I suppose there are plenty of details you’d like to know about such as crossing and place I’m at but that’s on the verboten list so you’ll have to ask me when I get back.  Anyway the important thing is that you have a general idea of my whereabouts.  Of course our letters are now censored but that shouldn’t be too much of a stigma although some of the fellows don’t exactly like to have some of their letters read.  I’m as well as ever getting plenty of sunshine and exercise and a pass occasionally and all in all it reminds me a little bit of being back in California.  Blackouts are every night so I hit the hay early unless I get a show pass.  Beer is two bits a bottle and about as weak as pop, but it’s beer.  Sleeping on the ground and boxing mosquitoes isn’t exactly home but there are plenty of places that could be worse. Anyway I’m getting used to it after the tenderness left my hips and I got to carving out some hip holes before laying down on my bed.  Suppose Nancy and Phil are well along in school by now, with Nancy crazy about it and Dan taking it a little grudgingly.  This is a little disjointed and unorganized but for lack of time I’m writing on something that comes to me.  Now I’m back in the open again since it’s stopped raining but suppose it will start again.  This is the first time I’ve thought about Christmas in September but we better be doing it in order that our packages arrive somewhere near the holiday.  I shouldn’t have much trouble finding things over here that you would like.  It hardly seems possible that winter is almost here again and that I’ve another birthday coming up but I guess it is.  Looks like two Christmases away from home and if I could look forward to being home for it in 1943 I’d be as happy as if it were a furlough.  There are some rumors of furloughs after a certain duration in the tropics, if this is considered the tropics, but I know little about it.  That’s quite a ways away anyway.  It was swell to see you for a few days in (Camp) Stoneman and it doesn’t seem it was a month ago.  Bet I had an awkward look on my face when I met you in the visitor’s building.  It didn’t seem like it was really you.  Is Kate still in Denver and has she heard anything about the navy yet?  In a way I hate to see her in the navy but I think it’s a pretty good deal for her.  Running out of paper so better pull the curtain.  See you in the next letter.

Love,

Harold Moss Signature
21 August 1942

21 August 1942

Dear Folks:

Just finished chow, there handed out the mail so can answer your letter before I clean my lingerie.  I am wondering when you will get this letter because soon our mail is going to be held up until our convoy arrives—all communication is.  But you keep writing though because they come through alright.

Had a retreat parade tonight and also had our pictures taken.  Plenty hot—I smell like a goat.  We got those new type helmets without the brim and they certainly make a guy look foreign and odd.  But they are comfortable and not quite as heavy as the other.  Got a whole slew of new equipment yesterday so about everything I have is new now.  Been running up to the hospital today getting some signatures on the payroll.  One ward I was in was the venereal section.  Passes have been stopped so things must be getting hot.

Was going to a dance last night in camp but no gals and no band—some deal so went to a show.  It was a stinker too.

Just came back from the PX—was it jammed—the boys had some beer and were signing old war songs and other old timers.

The place is crammed with visitors but the boys can only see them at the gate.

Will close now not so much of a letter but it’s something.

Love,

Harold Moss Signature
8 July 1942

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,

Harold Moss Signature

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

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