Bill Emick Archives - Page 2 of 2

3 August 1943

Dearest Folks:

I’m slipping on my writing again so better make this typewriter burn for a while. Just received Nancy’s letter a few moments ago and I especially noted that Glen and Bill E are home on furlough. What we wouldn’t do during a reunion leaves little to the imagination. A fellow in our billet just returned from furlough to the states and during the fiesta we had last night, asked him a bushel of questions about everything. He also brought back with him some spirits by smuggling them in a barracks bag and so that added a touch to the party. We must have acted like a bunch of kids the way we wanted to know a little about everything he saw and did while he was away. He is from a small town in Oklahoma. Of course I can’t describe just how I would act if I ever walked down the main street again, but I, like everyone else I suppose, try to imagine what it would be like before I go to sleep.

I just received the pictures from Dick and I suppose that probably you have yours by now. I think they are pretty good although I don’t think we took enough. I was a little surprised that some of them were passed, but I’m glad they didn’t object because you can get a good idea of the place where we spent most of our time.

I had intended to go to the show tonight and all in all take it easy, but I ran into a volleyball game and finally ended up doing exactly the opposite. My nights are all free and duty hours reasonable and with my type of work I escape some of the rigors of the outdoors, although we take part in some lengthy hikes occasionally. I haven’t lost any of my love for the island, and continue to hope that I will (be) lucky enough to remain here until I step on the boat for ‘Frisco.

I continually mention this subject but I hope you won’t object and that is the books. I hope that nothing arose that prevented your sending the volumes although it might have been necessary to send them in two separate packages depending on the weight.

Katie writes occasionally and everything sounds well with her, and I’m beginning to adopt a parental complex from my coming title of uncle.

I wish I was free to tell you how fast your mail arrives, for I know you would (be) surprised. But it does make good time in some cases although a few occasionally are delayed. I have no less than six letters to write tonight, but I’ve lost the initiative to write except to those that are close. I think I’ll throw in the towel on this issue and hope I can muster a few more words for the next one. I was amused at Phil’s newly acquired car and I can easily imagine how he must be beaming and grinning over his new treasure. And I suppose Nancy has her share of the fun from it. Well this is la finis, but before I go just keep the home and town like it was when I left.

Love,

21 July 1943

Dear Folks:

Just finished reading two issues of the Free Press which always requires my undevoted attention whenever they come. I think the new column about servicemen is a pretty good thing – I wonder where the fellows are sometimes. I see my old sidekick Bill Emick is at Stinsom Field. It seems that in every issue and in every letter I get from you someone else is getting a furlough, or coming home for some reason. How I would like to be one of them and walk down the main street again and see the new Moss manor. I always must remind myself that it can’t last forever.

Last Saturday night had the privilege of a twenty-four hour pass. The Chaplain secured a hotel room for me which was a nice one and well equipped. I took advantage of the situation and slept very late in the morning that reminded me of civilian days and weekends. I’m afraid that from my letters you might adopt the impression that I am having more or less of a vacation over here and having an easy life in the sunshine and the hospitality of the tropics, but this is hardly the case. What I do on pass day is about the only subject I can think of to do any writing about and you might think that this is my main diversion. But there is a lot more to it than that – I’ll have to tell you about that when I get back.

Yes, Dick and I will have many pleasant memories when we get home and what we did on our meeting will be one of them. No, I still haven’t heard from Dick. As for the money getting here too late—everything turned out fine. I made (a) loan and we had more money than we could spend.

I would like to inquire about the book again and I hope that you have met with success in finding it. Reading is the best way I know to spend the idle hours and I’m becoming very interested in this subject.

I’m not very newsy or verbose and not much in the mood to attempt to write a good letter, so hold on till the next one. I hope I may have some good news soon.

Love,

22 March 1942

Dear Folks:

While I’m waiting to go on guard at ten I just as well write you a few lines about stuff and things. Last Wednesday a.m. battery began a week’s tour of guard duty so I’ve been confined to camp when I’m not on post. I walk from ten until two o’clock at nite and in the morning with eight hours off between each tour. I’m posted at a lake set up in the hills. It’s very pretty up there and this morning it was so bright and sunny it didn’t seem possible that a war could be going on. Every day is so lovely and full of spring. Spring don’t mean much around here but just the same March 21^st spells something that the parts describe.

Got a letter from Bill E and Margie a few days ago. Bill seems on the verge of getting married. Margie, by reading between the lines, seems pretty low about everything. I get the impression she’s a little worried about Duane and his future. Rightly so, I believe.

This day was one of considerable leisure for me. Got up at nine and had pancakes for breakfast then walked guard from ten until two then laid around on my bed and listened to the radio and finished reading “Flotsam’. Later I washed my hair and shaved and now I’m writing you and waiting to leave soon.

Want to get to see the folks, yes I will too either this coming Wednesday or the following weekend. Even though some of my visits are not very far apart, I look forward to everyone as though I hadn’t seen them in ten years. If I don’t get down Dick said he was coming up. Dick is sure swell to me and we sure have a lot of fun together. It’s swell to have him so near.

Marge said that June K would look me up; also said that the former Dolores Dunbar often came to Escondido so maybe I will have some visitors soon. I hope so.

I’ve had such a supply of toilet articles that only tonight did I begin to use what Grandma and June gave me for Christmas. The buck cornsheller keeps good time and I look on it as something that almost lives. I left my other one with the folks to put in safekeeping. I couldn’t think of a thing that I need. Grandpa gave me an old fishing box with several shelves, that I was a little reluctant to accept, but it’s just the ideal thing to keep supplies in.

Patsy sent me another box of cookies. She seems to be taking quite an interest in my welfare.

Walter Winchell just came on the radio. I hope you listened too.

Guess this winds up this little edition of ink slinging.

Love,

2 November 1941

Dear Folks:

I just got off duty a few minutes ago so I’ll have time to write you a good long letter. Today is Sunday again and a very dull one it seems but I guess most of them are. Today I was table waiter in the mess hall so work during the eating hours. I would get it on Sunday. Have been here two weeks so had a pass last night. My buddy and I went to Paso Robles about 15 miles from here. It all turned out very badly. I was looking for some entertainment but there wasn’t a thing, not even a dance. Every store and building was crammed to overflowing with soldiers and the only thing to do was go to the show or roller-skate. And everything seems priced very high. Hamburgers 15 cents, show 35 cents, and roller-skating 40 cents. Two fellows with us bought a couple sandwiches for 52 cents. With so much business it seems things would be cheaper. Anyway we roller-skated until 10 o’clock then came back to the camp. Perhaps if I can get into Los Angeles or San Francisco things will be different. Have written several letters to Grandma and hope to get down if I can get three days off. Round trip is only eight, eighty-five but I would have so little time with a day and a half that it would be hardly worth the time. They want me to come down badly.

My actual radio training hasn’t started yet but will soon. First we must get the basic fundamentals of marching and firing. Two days ago last week were spent on our very latest and modern rifle range. We fired our rifles from a distance of two and three hundred yards. About 100 men can fire at one time. Two way telephone connections are set up from the firing line to the fellows in the pits that run the targets. I pulled targets one day—that is, was in a deep concrete trench and raised and lowered the targets and flashed back the score by means of flags and dices. Boy those bullets whistle overhead; also some bullets hit the dirt in front of the pit and spray dirt all over. In my firing I made ninety-nine out of a possible one fifty. Hope to do better next time.

Last week also had our periodic physical exam for lice, etc. It’s what the boys call a ‘short arm’ inspection. It was very funny. We all lined up with just our overcoats and shoes on, and with a cold wind blowing we shivered plenty. Some fellows lined up, then bent over, and pulled their coats up over their buttocks and had their picture taken.

My buddy and I have decided to try for officer’s training school, after our first six months are up. I think we have a good chance to make it.

So Bill Emick’s home? I just got a letter from him about a week and a half ago telling me of his roommate and the course he was taking. I’m very surprised. He did say though he was flat broke and couldn’t see how he was going to get there. I didn’t think he would ever come back to Minatare. And Wilma with another baby; another surprise. She must like ‘em. How is Duane getting along and what about the marriage scandal?

I have all the mail you sent. I got the shirt and the package and the two dollars. All very much appreciated and thanks so much. Mail call is the most important time of the day, and everybody jumps when the sergeant yells.

The fellow next to me is a very funny and fastidious fellow and about once a week thinks he must have an enema. You’d die if you knew his nickname.

Don’t know anything about Berg or the other fellows. Saw long lines of infantry marching back from a long hike and watched for him but didn’t see anything. Boy those guys in the infantry take a beating. They also have bayonet practice and of course they don’t hit the dummy squarely. A long pole swings around and smacks them. Also saw them throwing hand grenades and practically flattening out on the ground.

No my laundry is not $1.50 a week, but a buck fifty a month. There is no limit on the amount we can send. By the way if you want you can send my slippers and couple pair of shorts and skirts. I like plenty for Friday inspections. I will just about have everything then. We will be issued another suit; a field jacket and two more pairs of shoes so will always have clean clothing. Last week got up at four thirty to go to the rifle range but effective yesterday we operate on a winter schedule with reveille at six and retreat at four thirty in the afternoon. To sleep until six seems like a Sunday morning.

Last Tuesday nite went to a show ‘Camel Caravan’ sponsored by Camel cigarettes and saw some darned good entertainment. My buddy got in without tickets on the pretext of using the library. Guess tonight I’ll go to the show (14 cents).

I guess this is everything that’s been happening to me. Did you get the camp paper I sent? Should get a letter from Kate tomorrow. My buddy and I are going to buy a cheap camera to take some pictures so I’ll be sending some. I will get paid the tenth so will send you some money.

Write soon.

Love,

25 October 1941

Dear Folks:

Although I think you still owe me a couple of letters I’ll write while I have nothing to do. This is Saturday afternoon and a beautiful day here. I just got through playing baseball with my shirt off. It’s pretty hot. Just got out of the shower and sitting around in my shorts luxiously relaxing. Everybody is listening to a radio wondering how their team will come out. Wish I could hear Nebraska.

Haven’t started my radio schooling yet and won’t for a couple of weeks. Since I’ve been here in the specialist battery we’ve been working on an oil mat to drill on. Boy that’s hard work and plenty dirty but it makes me feel good and eat plenty. When the rainy season begins here it rains all the time and the mud is actually on the tops of knee boots. That’s why all the work on the oil matting. Yesterday laid an oil mat for a basketball court. After this is finished I will begin my technical training on radio work. This battery I’m in has quite a good past. Since it was formed nine months ago our battery has never lost the “Best Battery” sign which hangs on our orderly building. It is the best battery in the whole camp and the best in the special battalion. The radio battery of the specialists is considered the best and to have the best and smartest in it. Also our regiment has had the regimental banner 5 out of 6 times. I’m quite proud to be here. The fellows seem to take more interest in things here. Sidewalks have been built up and a lawn and patches of flowers are around the barracks. Also by the mess hall we have a fountain with a square cupola over it plus an old Dutch windmill on top of it. But being in this battery means plenty of work. Friday nights we get on our hands and knees and scrub the floors. On Saturdays the latrine is cleaned. Yesterday I washed windows on the second floor—plenty of them and to think I used to gripe at home to just wash a few. This morning I was latrine orderly and had to polish the bowls and brass til it shone like the sun.

Thursday nite the camp gave a broadcast over NBC but I didn’t go. Don’t know what I’ll do tonight suppose go the show or the service club. This service club is quite a building. In it is a large cafeteria and café, a dance floor and a balcony around it. Also there is a library and a larger fireplace. I have signed up for two night school classes given in the Paso Robles high school. The courses are Spanish and trigonometry but don’t know whether can take trig or not.

My pal now is a fellow who is from Omaha and formerly worked in the War Department finance office. He also is a graduate of Nebraska University in Business Administration. He’s a swell fella and we go every place together. Practically all the fellows in my barracks are from Missouri or Kansas.

All soldiers do get half rates on transportation that is a cent a mile. Also I get a ten day leave at Christmas. I can go to Grandmas if I can’t get to you. It would take quite a bit to come home. I’ve written letters to Grandma but haven’t heard from her. I’ve had some trouble getting my correspondence straightened out after all these changes, however I’ve gotten mail from you, one from Dad (keep ‘em coming) and note from Mom with a buck in it. Thanks so much.

Got a letter from Kate and one from Bill Emick yesterday. Kate didn’t say much though I’ll answer today. By the way I suppose you addressed your letters to me from the card mailed from Leavenworth but be sure and address the rest from the card I sent that is Battery D, 55^th FA Tng. Bn. Use private and not mister.

Guess that’s everything. Say hello to the kids.

By the way I did know Professor Walker very well. Used to wait on him when I worked on “Bucks”.

See you in the next letter.

Lots of love,