Construction Archives - Moss Letters

7 September 1945

Dear Folks:

Better write you while I can still do it. It appears pretty definite that we will leave either Monday or Friday of next week. And I don’t think we will be in the personnel center more than three or four days. Life is pretty easy right now as far as work goes, but the waiting is pretty tough. I will go to Fort Logan, Colorado to be discharged, and will get travel pay from there to Minatare. I thought it might be nice for you to meet me in Denver, but after thinking it over, I think it would be better at home. Reading in Time magazine it looks like about everything will be plentiful by Christmas time.

I’m in not too good a mood tonight and for several reasons. I don’t like to tell you about them but sometimes I just get so fed up and peeved I feel better by writing. Maybe it was the heat today – it gets hotter than the devil and you sweat like a washrag just laying down or doing nothing. And to add to it the food is terrible. I can’t understand it. Tonight was beans [lima] and sauerkraut and coffee. And it’s like that day after day. I don’t know who gets it but when they tell you the good food goes to the combat troops don’t believe them. Since we have been in combat from June 1944 it has been that way. But the biggest thing that gets me worked up is to read about the Blackhawk Division back in the States from Europe after 46 days at combat and less than 6 months overseas putting up a bitch about being sent to the Pacific. That takes a lot of guts. A large number of the men in this battalion have been overseas three years and through as much combat as any and yet they have no idea when they will get home. And yet men with 45 points don’t get overseas service. Go through three combats or more and yet have no assurance of getting home. My 85 will get me back soon but the guys with less than 80 I sure feel sorry for. And yet they want to cut the draft and give the guys already here more service. The troops over here have taken the beating and lived in places where no white people have been, and taken what the army has left over, and when the war is over, tell them you aren’t through yet. You know how I feel about the situation. Some of those European troops weren’t over long enough to feel homesickness. Well those are my sentiments.

Had two letters yesterday one from Dad and one from Mom. Both very good. I was surprised to hear how well your store is going, and I can tell you have bigger things in mind. I am certainly proud of you and admire you for the courage to do it. And I feel like [if] you do that, it can grow into a big success. I know you are the right guy that has the stuff to deal with people and build up a good reputable business, and I know that when you get ready to leave it, it won’t go to pot, because the Moss boys will take care of that. I feel like I have a lot to say about it but I’ll save it until I get home.

I think I told you not to write any more. It feels good to write a letter without knowing an officer will be looking it over later. I know a lot of letters will have some torrid stuff in them now that censoring is off.

Last night I went to USO stage show that I didn’t think was so good. But there was three girls in it, so I guess it was worth going to. We have a pretty nice stage considering it was built and designed and built by GIs. Kay Kyser’s show was plenty good, full of a lot of laughs, and pretty gals.

An organ is playing on the radio right now – some tunes that make me half way feel like bawling. It seems almost too good to realize I’m going home. Now I’ll have [to] get used to Nancy grown up, and Philip too. Had a letter from Phil and he said it was possible he might see me, but I’m afraid it’s too late. I’d almost stay another week to meet him. He may be in for some time yet, but he will probably get leaves pretty frequently. Said he wished he had gotten married while he was still in the States.

I hope you got to see Dan Gettman. He’s a good hard working kind, but a little slow. Friendly as the devil.

Well I’m going to knock off for tonight. I don’t know exactly which letter will be the last but it may be this one. But if a week goes by and no letters [come], keep in earshot of the phone because I am probably on my way.

Love,

22 July 1945

Dear Folks:

Sitting on my bunk in a pair of drawers trying to keep cool and trying to decide whether to write or just be lazy. Well I decided to do both – write a while then relax. Today is Sunday and it is a day off. A few days ago we moved into our permanent area which means rehabilitation and taking it fairly easy. Afternoons will be given to baseball or some kind of athletics. This morning I went to church at eleven o’clock in the artillery chapel. A simple but impressive altar was built by a couple of carpenters. It makes a better place than out in the open as it was before. Now we have a PX and a choice of four movies in the evening, also the Red Cross has a canteen but I haven’t been down yet. Having lights in our tent I hope to get some reading done also. We don’t black out in the evenings as you might think but it blacks out fast if a red alert comes in.

Had two letters today one from Dad and one from Gladys Davis who is now Mrs. W. R. Johnson. She’s pretty happy. I certainly think you and Dad should go to Denver and take a good vacation and just do nothing or whatever you feel like and the longer the better. I hope you go. Dick and I will not be in combat and you shouldn’t be disturbed as you were last year. So you better be sure and do it.

Sent you a check for $108.00 about a week ago so let me know if you get it. You should also get four bonds for the months of March, April, May, and June.

Nothing new to report on getting home although my hopes are still high.

Glad to hear you are better Mom and perhaps the vacation will do you some good.

This is about all I have so until next time.

Love,

16 July 1945

Dear Folks:

I’m taking it easy this afternoon but can’t sleep much ‘cause it’s too hot, so maybe I can catch up on a few letters. Boy, it’s been hot the last couple of weeks and today it’s really warm, one of those prewar, stateside days when you went to the lake and swam and ate watermelon. Have had no opportunity to go swimming although the ocean looks cool and blue from the hills. At some spots in the hills there are beautiful views of the harbor and coastline, green near the beach and deep blue farther out. Looking down on this at night, it is a myriad of lights, like travelog pictures of Rio de Janiero. I know you would be amazed at the vast amount of construction and activity here. It seems almost a miracle to me how fast big machinery and installations go to work and how fast the landscape changes. Now we have broad three and four lane highways where before our trucks had to be tractor-towed to get through. When I returned to places I had seen earlier in the campaign I could hardly find my way around. The face of the island had been changed so much. In the villages and cities the civilians are picking through the rubble piles salvaging what they can so the mess can be cleaned up and bulldozed into a nice area. And in the fields the civilians are hoeing and harvesting what produce they can. I saw a big bunch yesterday and I noticed there was almost no guard around them. They seem cooperative and quiet.

I’m glad you wanted me to go to school because before I thought maybe you didn’t like the idea so well and thought perhaps I should do something else. I’m looking forward to it like everything.

Well the heat has deadened my stimulus for any more writing so I’ll call this good. Dad thought I might not want to talk of my experiences but as a matter of fact I am looking forward to telling you all about them. At least to you but I don’t know about other people. Well so long for now.

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,