Dan Gettman Archives - Moss Letters

11 September 1945

Dear Folks:

I hope every letter I write will be the last one, but I’m still here and as long as I am I guess I just as well write you. However we are going from day to day now expecting orders at any time. I made a 200 yen bet that we would be out of here by Saturday the 15^th, and I think it’s still a good bet. [200 yen is only $12.50]. The days are dragging by and every one seems long. I don’t have anything to do now – my replacement came two weeks ago and he has taken over. About all I do now is loaf and in the afternoon sleep. I feel lost and kind of nervous – you know what I mean. For instance this morning in order to kill time I went over to the barber shop for a haircut, and hung around the motor section until dinner. I’m letting my hair grow now – trying to make it look like a civilian. It’s been pretty short up to now.

Had a letter from Dad together with a Free Press today. I’m glad you got to see Dan Gettman. I didn’t know he had any trouble with his hip, but there is a lot of guys [who] have ear trouble from the guns. He used to talk a leg off me about Scottsbluff.

The past two days it has been raining in cloud bursts and typhoon proportions. It may hold us up a few days in leaving. I’ve never seen it rain so hard. It will come up in a few minutes and drive down so hard you can’t see more than fifty yards. Boy how it rains. The sky may look good one minute and the next it will be pouring down.

Well I can’t think of anything more to write about. Don’t write me because it’s just a job for the mail orderly to forward it.

Love,

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,

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,

7 May 1945

Dear Folks:

While sitting here listening to the rain tap on the tent perhaps I can get off a short letter. No mail today but it’s about the first day. Am expecting your packages to arrive as much 4^th class is coming in.

Have had a busy day all day and feel a little tired tonight.

Yes, Dan Gettman is still in the battalion but haven’t seen him since leaving Leyte. He is in Battery B. He is okeh and probably one of these days he’ll come trotting over with a stack of Star Heralds.

The European was news is good – so good in fact it has buoyed up our hopes for getting back. All kinds of talk goes on around the subject, and yesterday on the radio we heard the army would release two million men within a year after the end in Europe. Between you and me rotation looks pretty good but I can’t let myself be too optimistic because it seems things can be changed very easily. But if I don’t get home this year, I won’t be worth a darn.

Well pretty short this time but not a lot to write about. I hope I can enjoy those fires with you.

Love,

18 February 1945

Dear Folks:

Here it is Sunday again and even over here that means some respite even if it isn’t much. This morning the protestant chaplain had communion services. The chapel is a squad tent and the dirt floor comprises the seats. The altar is a homemade wooden affair while on either side are candles set in candlesticks made from shell cases. A small portable organ adds a slight civilian touch to the scenery but the crowd doesn’t sing out too much, most of the songs are in too high a key. I’ve seen services held in many places and under varying circumstances and I’m sure that if you could have seen a few of them it would have struck a sentimental note within you. The one I remember most was a service I saw here on the island. We were riding in trucks when I saw a long line of infantry men who looked as though they were waiting for (a) show. They were still in combat (clothing) and of course were very dirty and tired. Their rifles were on their backs, as well as some other equipment. They were lined up beside a gutted, blackened shack that perhaps they themselves had fired and destroyed only a short time ago. Around the corner, offering a slight bit of privacy, was a Catholic priest dressed in his white robes hearing confessions. The priest had a small wooden box with a cross on it and the men knelt before it. There was many men there and too (many) have wanted church under those conditions they surely must have felt a great need for help and prayer. Quite a paradoxical situation. That was just one scene and more are going on everywhere. Well so much for church.

I mailed the bolo (knife) and sandals today and I hope it has more luck in reaching you than yours to me. Be careful when you open it, the scabbard is off and the blade is exposed and it’s sharp as a razor.

Most of the afternoon I took it easy and read a little and later two Filipinos came around trying to trade off a bolo so we haggled about that awhile. They try to jew you out of all they can, and at first they got away with it.

Dan Gettman was over for a while yesterday but only a few minutes.

Had a letter from Dad today – your layout of the town is darn good. It sounds like plenty of changes have taken place.

As far as news goes, there isn’t much to relate, so I’ll wind up here.

Love,

14 February 1945

Dear Folks:

Just enough time to write a letter before going to bed. Just finished a bridge game with two officers and luckily we beat them 1200 points. But we screwed up plenty at that. Had a letter from Jay Echelberger a few days ago, he’s a civilian in Los Angeles. Wants me to write him pretty bad so I better do it.

A few days ago got a hold of a nice Philippino bolo knife with a nice case and hope to get it sent pretty soon. But first I’m waiting to get you a pair of woven sandals. They look pretty nice and I’m sure you will like them.

I’ve been hitting darn good on the mail and don’t think I’ve missed one in a long time. You and Dad must be kept pretty much on the move to keep up with all your correspondence.

Nothing exciting has happened to me lately so in order to make up some kind of a letter guess I’ll have to make a commentary on some of your letters. In the first place question number 1, Aunt Bessie put in candy, some cards, some canned stuff and things like that. Last night I received your letter with Wylma’s address in it so thought I might knock her out a letter, but after I wrote it tore it up and gave it up for a bad job. And then I don’t know if she is a miss either. Sometime ago there was a deal that I was to be transferred to Group Hq as a M/Sgt but a change in commanders changed the deal. Yes I see Dan often, he isn’t very far away and occasionally he strolls in the office ready to talk your leg off and always grinning. Lately he has (been) bringing over stacks of Star-Heralds so I have plenty of reading material. So darned old though, I (have) known most of the news. I sure feel like you do about the Carroll’s and there’s hardly two bits worth in the lot. And I don’t think Margie is much better. And lastly I did faintly know the McVay boy although just by sight. Received a Free Press today and a picture of Ralph Curry, who was killed in action. Received a card and V-mail from Gram and Gramp the other day. Gram is so good to write I must write her soon but you let her know that I think of her often and always hoping Gramp will come through in good shape and soon be around well again.

I wished I could write more and make a newsy letter out of this but I’m getting sleepy and besides there isn’t anything more so just as well quit.

Love,

20 November 1944

Dear Folks:

I’ve let up on my writing this week for no good reason, so I better resolve to do something about it tonight. I’ll pull up a bottle of beer and maybe I can think a little better. Dan Gettman came in just a few minutes ago, bringing with him an armful of Star Heralds that I was anxious to read. I glanced over them briefly but will read them more carefully tomorrow. The latest one is dated September 8 so the news isn’t very current although it’s all interesting. Yesterday four old Free Presses caught up with (the mail) and I’ve still got them stuck under my pillow to read over a few times more before they find their way into the wastebasket. Well getting papers means also that some packages, the first in several months, came, and I received one from you marked Box 1 on the cards. The popcorn was the first I’ve seen since leaving Oahu, and tonight we plan to pop it after the show, if we can mooch a little butter from the kitchen. We have a small one burner stove that we cook on when the kitchen isn’t operating, and I think the pot will be large enough to do the job. And for supper tonight I enjoyed the olives. You know how I love ‘em, and of course I almost made a meal of them. The mess sergeant just came by and said I could get the butter so we’re set. On the humorous side, the can of Vienna sausages has made me the brunt of several jokes. You see Vienna sausages are about as common on the menu as Spam, and served as often. And knowing the jokes connected with Spam you can see what they’ve been saying to me. But then you couldn’t know about that. But that’s alright you know I can still use them. Quite a sizable shipment of boxes came in so everyone is enjoying eats of some kind or another.

Had a letter from Bill E and one from Glen last week and both of them seemed to like the high life they saw in Paris. At least those guys over there are around people that are about like us and not so foreign to them as the Japs. I see a Jap plane is to be displayed at the County Fair-I wished you would have seen all the ones I did, wrecked ones, that is.

Saw the show “Bathing Beauty” last night and if you saw it too you know the howling that must have gone on. I’d like to see more like it-no army or war in it. Two nights ago a military band came over for a concert, but they were a pretty sick crew in my estimation.

I don’t know what I’m going to write about now, not much exciting has happened. Washed out some clothes and other ‘unmentionables’ as the women say, and then after supper went up to hear the news. From the Philippine station, I heard mention of Arthur Veysey, who used to report for the Star Herald now with the AP, I believe. I can imagine how tonight the guys down there are having it and I hope it is ended before long. Noticed in the Star Herald that Shirley Heldt is married, she had weak knees over J. Conklin for a time. Haven’t played much bridge lately, but would like to get going again. Our cards are getting pretty do-eared, but as long as we don’t lose one we’ll be alright. Pinochle seems to be the big game around here but I’m not interested in it very much. You should get two bonds sometime in November for September and October-they have a new deal on now-sent only when we get paid so if they don‘t come for a month you will know I didn’t get paid. Think I’ll get a couple of GI bonds too. Haven’t heard from Dick for some time-I’ll have to get on him and make him write a little. Would certainly like to see him again. About a week ago we started giving classes in shorthand to the clerks, but I don’t think the effort will be successful. It takes too long and requires too much practice. Don’t use mine much anymore but dabble around once in a while. Was reading in the Star Herald about the university courses-sounds good and how I’d like to be in some of it. I’ll bet I wouldn’t do any fooling around this time and I‘d get down to brass tacks. I didn’t loaf while I was there but I’d get more done the next time. The last few days have been corkers-rained all the time-got everything damp and put mud all over. Aired out a few things today so they won’t mold.

I guess this is the last act-can’t dig up anything more so guess I’ll have to quit. Think I’ve put on a pound or two lately and feel fine. Keep the home fires burning and in church every Sunday when they pray, you add ‘and I hope he gets a furlough’. Thank you so much for the box, and I hope the next ones won’t be far off.

Love,

26 August 1944

Dear folks:

I just finished a game of volleyball and in this weather that’s pretty strenuous. Now I smell like a goat and will have to take a bath in a Japanese tub that we found. Our water supply for bathing and washing clothes is mostly rainwater. Almost every shack has a barrel with a drain pipe stock in the top. The day before yesterday I was out with the major and we pretty well covered all the island in his jeep. In one area at the southern end of the island we went into some of the caves where the Japs hid out when the Jig was up. There are still plenty of them there and only yesterday 64 were taken prison. We went into one large cave that had been hit with a big naval shell and we estimated there was between sixty or seventy dead ones there. In another we found two who had hanged themselves and their headless bodies were leaned against the wall and their heads still hanging on the wire. But a little time in those places and the stench nearly knocks you out, so we didn’t stick around long.

I was scheduled to see Dick last Sunday on Saipan. I was going to fly over but I couldn’t get away. Don’t know whether I will see him again or not. I wasn’t going to mention this but now that he is well and the same as ever again, I guess it’s all right. On August the 5^th he was injured when a Jap grenade went off near him and he got about a half dozen pieces in his legs and feet and back. He was sent to the hospital, and when I first got news about it I flew over to see him. When I got there he was getting along fine and able to walk in the chow line. He wouldn’t let me tell you about it and so I didn’t write anything, but he wasn’t seriously hurt so I thought is was all right. He was in the hospital until about the 11^th or 12^th and then released. He was a little shaken and damn glad to see me, but I assure you he is as fine as ever and the injury will have no effect whatsoever upon him. Undoubtedly he will be awarded the Purple Heart and maybe he has it by now. He will have plenty to tell you when he gets back. But please don’t worry for he is in the best of health.

Now that the 2^nd class mail has begun to catch up I have papers and magazines all over the place. The box of seeds came the day before yesterday and in good shape and now I can sit around and munch them when mealtime seems a long way off. Danny Gettman brings in armloads of Star Heralds and it’s a job to read all of them, but I don’t mind it. Jack Conklin and I swapped news and he told me Mildred Roberts was getting a divorce—How did it last as long as it did? He had a lot of other news and it’s all interesting. I haven’t received a letter from you for about a week now, but I suppose it will come in with a rush someday. Jack read me a few of his letters and in all of them everyone back there seems very optimistic and sees a bright future for the end of the war. I hope they don’t get too optimistic because there’s a long way to go yet, but everything does look pretty good on the whole.

Well I think I better stop and get ready to crawl in. I hope this letter doesn’t startle you and you won’t worry about Dick, because in all honesty he is fine. Yesterday two fellows left on furlough to the states and I would have given them two hundred dollars for their papers but I don’t think they would bat an eye at that price. I couldn’t blame them. Don’t get your hopes up about me getting back for the quota is so small it’s almost nothing and is more like dangling a piece of meat in front of a dog just to keep him going. Maybe the rotation plan will treat me better although that’s a year away yet. Well that’s enough for tonight, so I’ll just go to bed and think about all of you like I’ve done for a long time now.

Love,

20 August 1944

Dear Folks:

I’ll try my patience tonight and see if I can write a letter in long hand for a change. Maybe you can’t read it around the end but here goes. This is Saturday night again but it just as well be any night I guess. Maybe I can make it to church in the morning if nothing unforeseen comes up. Well I had a little excitement during my tour yesterday. While driving along in a jeep at the southern end of the island, we spotted a Jap running in the bushes and trying to dodge around a burned up truck. We let go a few rounds at him and soon he came out hands up. We stripped him down to his bare then took him to intelligence. He was scared to death and thought for sure we were going to kill him in short order. He was injured pretty badly and flies were all around him. Later we gave him a can of rations and he dug into them as fast as he could. Every time we gave him a cigarette or did anything for him he would bow his head very reverently two or three times.

I can’t think of much to write about. We are getting somewhat stabilized here now and the garrison routines are coming back. We have two volleyball courts constructed and several teams have been organized in the battery for a playoff. My game isn’t so hot but I get in once in a while.

Dan Gettman brought in a slug of Star Heralds a few days ago and we talked about your visit with his mother. He’s a typical valley Russian but a pretty good egg.

Hope I can see Dick in the next few days and swap mail with him. He probably has quite a few.

I wished I could think of something more to write but can’t seem to tonight. So I’ll stop this and get ready for those “cool clean sheets” and that “late Sunday morning sleep”. (Yes, I’m kiddin’).

Love,

2 April 1944

Dearest Folks:

Well, there has been another lapse in my writing but there hasn’t been a change in my habits but a change in the training schedule. Interruptions are becoming more frequent and sometimes it isn’t always easy to find time to write. Also haven’t seen Dick for a week but am expecting to get a phone call tonight. Hope we can get together in a few days. I know you have had a birthday and Dad one soon, and Dick and I plan to fix up a box with a little of everything in it. Today was Palm Sunday but I couldn’t do anything about it—the circumstances precluded it.

Tonight I received a batch of Star-Heralds from Dan Gettman so had to glance thru them. Most of the fellows are from New York and California and when another fellow from Coldwater, Kansas and I discuss our small town life, they think it’s quite a joke. When I came across an item about an overseas soldier getting a furlough I mentioned it and that always draws a laugh or a divisive sneer.

I thought you might be a little interested in the clipping I cut from the Honolulu Adventurer of this Sunday. At one time or another I have been to most of them (attractions). These Hawaiian names might look difficult but they are very simple to pronounce.

There’s a lively, silly, conversation going on around me about the Army and us dogfaces that make it up. One GI sitting on the other end of my bunk is re-reading his wife’s letters and making some witty amusing remarks. He’s been here for over two years. This business of troop rotation gets quite a bit of discussion but few favorable comments are expressed.

Received two letters from you last week and also one from Nancy. I certainly look forward to them. There are so many things I would like to tell you about and experiences I have had but I can’t do that. Many of my letters must sound dry and newsless but actually I’m not spending the vacation the letters may suggest. About the AAL taking my job – no, I don’t think that is possible. Gee, you must think I’m not a fighting man—ha-ha. The WAC’s sure get cussed and discussed in this group. Sure we’d like to have a dozen or so. You know that recently a detachment arrived in the islands and they immediately caused a big flurry. Dick was telling me about a tough buxom sergeant he saw. Most of them go to the Air Force who usually have everything.

As I was writing Dick phoned and I was glad to talk to him for a few minutes. It certainly is a lucky coincidence that we can be so near each other and just by picking up the phone get in touch with him. He is expecting to go on pass Tuesday and we want to make that day a big one.

Well, I haven’t said a lot in this mess but it’s some sort of a communiqué, so until the next time I miss all of you so much and am busting to see home again.

Love,