Blackouts Archives - Moss Letters

26 April 1944

Dear Folks:

Just finished house cleaning, that is reshuffling my footlocker and hope it will stay straightened up for at least a day. Then cleaned up my pistol and now am taking it easy listening to Bob Burns.

Last night went to see Dick and together we went to some wrestling matches and saw some great entertainment. Wrestling is a good show and full of laughs, and Dick about went nuts.

Last Sunday I took my friend from Coldwater, Kansas to church with me. The enclosed pamphlet was the program for the enthronization of the new bishop. This St. Andrew’s Cathedral is a very large and beautiful building with the chapel in the middle and a big wing on either side for clubrooms, etc. The service was very beautiful and typically Episcopalian. They have a large choir and a huge organ. In the crowd, a big one, was all kinds of (armed) forces and quite a few Japs. The Bishop talks like a forceful and effective man. The service was an hour and a half including communion which I took part in. After the service there was a serviceman’s lunch held in the spacious rooms. Wish I could go every Sunday.

I suppose you have seen the picture enclosed. The fellow is Lt. Eldo ‘Doc’ Blome who stayed in the same house in Lincoln. He was quite a pal of mine and I would give a lot to see him again. I hope the box has arrived and everything fits.

Well we still have blackout at ten and it’s getting around that time so better drop the curtain.

Love,

17 February 1944

Dear Folks:

I think I can stay within my schedule and still get a letter written to you – anyway I’ll try it. I try to break the evenings up into some sort of a schedule in order to insure getting done the things I want to. So far it’s worked pretty good and sometimes I have to overlook a bridge game and that isn’t always easy to do. Well yesterday I went on pass and once again saw something that I hadn’t seen before. On the way back from Waikiki we stopped at the municipal buildings and had a look at the local government offices. Felt like a civilian. In one of them was the courtrooms, law offices and the usual embellishments and that interested me so we looked around. Even walked into the Supreme Court chambers. Something awesome and quiet about the empty rooms that made you feel good that there were still public courts still in this country where an accused can get a hearing. Well after this we nosed around like a pair of hillbilly sightseers and finally stumbled into the law library. Boy what a layout and what a world of legal knowledge and education. Wish I could use the books. The place was empty so we took our time and pulled out volumes here and there. Found some on Nebraska and then Minatare didn’t seem so far away. Across the avenue was the Iolani Palace where King Kamehameha used to live so we went over there. But the place was locked up so couldn’t see much. Looked pretty good from the outside though.

For a couple of hours in the afternoon slept in the sun on the beach. Except on Sundays, the beach (is) very crowded but there are always a few fellows surf riding out about two hundred (yards) off shore. But that’s about all the beach is good for because the bottom is covered with coral formations and rocks. The water is pretty shallow and that is what causes the waves to roll in without breaking up. When I used to see pictures of them at home I wondered how they kept from drowning but you can wade out for probably three hundred yards without getting in water over your head.

Regardless of all the ration talk and shortages it still is pretty easy to get a good dinner and not outrageous either. We ate on a terrace overlooking the water and I had a sirloin steak with all the good trimmings. This about ended up for the day so after an evening show we headed back. This was the first time I’d really been out after blackout and to see so many lights shining again was a treat. After living in a blacked out country for quite a spell the auto and store and street lights was a sight for sore eyes.

Well my time is running short – that schedule you know – so I better begin tapering off. Dick was supposed to go with me yesterday but he couldn’t get off so probably he will come around Sunday.

Love,

31 December 1943

Dear Dad:

I guess if I owe anybody a letter it is certainly you. You write often but I never answer them as I should. It’s pretty quiet tonight and everything else is done. We’re sitting around listening to the radio this New Year’s Eve, not doing much. We won’t do any celebrating with blackout and taps at ten. I was just looking at the pictures Kate sent me and then thought how swell it would be to see Steve and all of us enjoying him together. It seems I’ve been gone so long I have to pinch myself to make sure things like that are still back there. Some of the things I look back on seem like a dream the morning after. You can’t imagine how much I think about the first few minutes when we will see each other again. Bet I’d have to have a towel for my eyes. Maybe I better get around to the brighter and newsier side of things. This afternoon went into town to do a little shopping. Tried to find some picture frames but no luck. I must have looked like mom nosing around the Kress Store.

Some of the fellows have gone to the New Year’s Dance but the competition is to stiff for me. Probably won’t be many white ones there anyway. Seeing so many ‘tanned’ ones will make all of them at home, good-looking.

Well dad, it seems there should be much to write about and make a man-to-man talk out of this but it seems the words aren’t here although the thoughts would fill many pages. I hope 1944 brings us very near the end. I don’t feel much anxiety about my own welfare although I admit I sometimes worry about Dick. Certainly I don’t foresee a furlough.

The pictures were taken in the office. Maybe they will give you some idea of the place I work in. It’s usually a pretty busy place and maybe it doesn’t look too tidy.

I’m going to call this ‘pau’ for this time. I really enjoy your letters and you put in the kind of news I like to hear. Hope I do a better job of writing (next year).

Love,

22 April 1943

Dearest Folks:

Just put up the blackouts and now lounging around putting in time on another enemy that is so beautiful that I can hardly think of war. Two letters came today, one from Gram and the other from Nancy, both welcome and read over many times. V-mail is dependable and regular but ordinary mail arrives in batches and usually pretty old. I have to think twice to recall that it is spring at home and that summer is not far off but even here the nights are naturally warmer and the mosquitoes more and hungrier. Right now Harry James is on the air preceded by the news. The news broadcasts are very popular in our billet and in one end we have a large map to keep us geographically posted. The progress and end of the war is subjected to many diverse and peremptory arguments but I would share the optimistic opinion of so many of them. Of course I am well as always and in a great state of morale and consider myself lucky to share the conveniences we do have. I will answer Nancy’s letter soon and thank her very much for it. I guess it’s goodnite now.

Love,

22 November 1942

Dear Folks:

This is my first attempt in several days in writing a letter—but it wasn’t neglect—it was lack of illumination. Now that I have a faint flicker to aide me I’ll try to keep up again. I have received three packages from you and all in first class shape. I can use everything in them to good advantage especially the flashlight. These blackouts are nothing to crow about. I at once feel like a heel and a sentimentalist—getting so much from you and the Christmases before Tajo got tough. I really got bleary-eyed when I opened them. Thanks for every one of them. Thanks to every one of you from a way down where it means something. The V-mail is the first I’ve had in a long time. It is hard to get here. This is written from Dick’s pen and it works perfectly.

Besides your packages I’ve received one from Gram, from Mrs. Carroll, one from KSKY and one from Washington and one from Mrs. Davis in Lincoln to a grant total of eight. Surely I can’t complain. Mrs. Carroll sent a Bible and box of cigars, KSKY, a towel, cigarettes, toothpaste and pocket-knife and Mrs. Davis two decks of cards and a combination flashlight and pencil. With this array of equipment and supplies, I can eat and smoke for three months at least. They all came in the last three days so you can imagine what I’ve been doing. My bed looks like a canteen.

I’ll write again tomorrow to compensate for this short one—if Nancy thinks she’s got the best brother in the world I know I’ve got the (best) folks.

Love,

3 October 1942

Dear Folks:

While I’m killing time until chow I might as well be writing you a paragraph or two. Yesterday was riding around in a jeep in town on various errands and tried to find something suitable for you but the stocks are so limited and with the short time I had came, back empty handed. Hope I get a pass soon. Listened to the third game of the World Series this morning—still pulling for the Yanks. We have a day room, or a blackout tent, now that gives some diversion after hours, stocked with Red Cross books and magazines. That reminds me don’t forget the Free Press. Read the one in the box. I’m fine and not in the least worried or downhearted. Don’t get that way. It isn’t all agreeable but then should it be?

Love,

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,