Dances Archives - Moss Letters

10 January 1944

Dear Folks:

I’m going to the show in a little while but maybe I can hash up a letter before then. Yesterday the birthday box came and already I’m smoking one of the cigars and pretty good too. I can always imagine you packing it and fixing it up and every time I open one I get a lump in my throat. Occasionally I stoke up the pipe when it looks like a calm peaceful evening and I can relax on my GI innerspring. After sleeping on these narrow cots probably it’ll take some time to get used to stretching out. The nights are pretty chilly now and it takes all three blankets to keep warm. The seasons are about the same but right now ‘winter’. There is more rain and the waves come in a little bigger than in summer. When I get back home and think of this mild weather probably this place will be deep in my affections. Well what did you think of the picture? And by the way I have one more stripe than it shows. And have you received the ones of Dick and I? Last Saturday night was a little like one at home, at least more so than any before. Slicked up a little after supper, then went to the local dance and did more watching. These dogfaces and navy sure dance some wicked styles. I feel old fashioned. Already I’m beginning to feel like an ‘Army man’ with the three year mark right in sight and longevity pay coming in. What a change these past three years have been. Can hardly realize I’m actually a ‘soljer’. Next month or about February 5 you should get a check for $60 and if you don’t, let me know. Also I increased my bonds to 2 a month. Well that show is coming up in a few minutes and got to visit the PX first so I’m going to wind this up. Thanks again for the box. And by the way Dick and I sent a book. Never read it but it looked pretty good. Well goodbye for now.

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,

26 December 1943

Dear Folks:

Regardless of what I have to do I’m going to get a letter off to you today. I think this is the third one I’ve started. And I have quite a bit to write about this time, at least it’s pretty good. In the first place, another Christmas and another birthday have come and gone. The night before Christmas we played bridge, had some cheer, and listened to Roosevelt’s speech. But the real surprise and a most welcome present came at reveille when the commanding officer announced that I was promoted to technical sergeant. It was entirely unlooked for and made my whole Christmas day very happy. At noontime the commanding officer had the first three graders in his quarters for a round of drinks and some toasts to the new year. The drink whetted my appetite and of course later we had the customary meal for the GI epicureans. In the evening I went to a dance in town and there finished off a swell day. Also had a turkey dinner in a hotel. As long as I couldn’t be home, the day couldn’t have been a better one for me. But Christmas eve and the next day I think everyone was doing a lot of thinking about how nice it would be to get home for a while and wonder what the folks were doing and how they were spending their holiday. I hope that next year will bring the war a lot closer to the finish but I’m still pretty pessimistic about an early end. But let’s hope Dad’s predictions come true. And also I wondered how Dick was enjoying his day. I imagine he also had a good time.

When I returned from my pass I had a batch of letters to read and answer and some papers to read. I’m still trying to catch up. I didn’t send many (Christmas) cards this year. Received several from the Lewellen’s, Mrs. Conklin, Sandison’s and some others.

I hope my picture will reach you before long. I couldn’t find a suitable frame for it but hope that you will put one around it. I think it’s a pretty decent one. I will send on to Gram and one to Kate too.

Had my eyes rechecked recently and will soon get two new pairs (of glasses).

Well I hope you and the family had a merry Christmas and had all you could eat. Christmas is a pretty sentimental time when you are so far away from home and I was no different. But I always hope and know that when we all are together again, we will appreciate Christmas more than ever

Love,

13 October 1943

Dearest Folks:

I’ve been going pretty strong all day so I guess I can keep going long enough to write you some sort of letter. Then after I finish this I’m in for a quiet evening with some bunk fatigue. A few days ago had a letter from Dick but it was the usual dozen lines or so. I had hoped that I would be able to be near him by getting a crack at the school there but the application didn’t get through. I know he doesn’t sound too happy but I don’t think it is anything to worry about. He must still have the farm in his blood. Said he wanted to be with Gramp on their place.

Tom does have big things on his mind if he attempts to go through what he wants to do. But it would be a great thing and the ends would be worth about any sacrifice they would make. I wish I was in the position he is to do something effective about it.

Last Sunday at the GI club there was a jitterbug contest. The local wahines (wah-heen-ees), or most of them, feel pretty important dancing with the smoother of the GI wolves. What they do on the dance floor is more like organized mayhem, so I don’t venture out very often.

Of course I look forward to every issue of the Free Press and especially to what the guys in the service column are doing. I was thinking last night how far apart the ‘four’ of us are from each other. And I also spent quite a little time dwelling upon the ideas we had and all the rest of the things that came from our years of running around together.

I’ve sat here for at least fifteen minutes trying to start another paragraph but nothing seems to be forthcoming so guess I’ll have to quit. I’m fine personally but can’t get anymore meat on my ribs. Getting more workouts in the field and more of this training that fills up so many newsreels, but the office still requires quite a bit of time. The evenings are perfect and now with the restrictions lessened on lights, they are even more enjoyable. Well I guess this is ‘pau’.

Love,

8 October 1943

Dear Folks:

First off I am in receipt of the letter about Stephen and besides being a big relief I’m sort of proud of my new title of uncle. I hope Katie gets along alright and the baby gets fatter and louder. Well, being away at a time like this is another good reason for my hating the Japs. I can’t very well imagine Katie with a baby in her arms and now I’m the more curious to see Tom.

And secondly (I have to enumerate the things I’m going to say in my mind) our battery stepped out to a dance last night. It was the second such battery dance since I’ve been here and this one was a big success. The boys spent a lot of time getting the hall ready and taking care of miscellaneous ends and they did a great job. And the biggest problem, the matter of getting enough girls, was even solved successfully. I ran into three Chinese girls whose names were Miss Chan, Chang and Ching (to give you an idea of the company I was in). I had a swell time besides eating cake and drinking coke all night.

Now that I have covered these few points I was going to write about I don’t (know) where I’ll go from here. Tonight was the weekly concert attended by a few civilians including a couple of stuffed dowagers who did more talking than listening. Listening to the concert we usually sit under a big avocado tree and the falling avocadoes are sometimes dangerous, and ripe mangoes literally cover the ground.

Of course every morning we like millions of others listen to the World Series game that begin over here at seven forty-five. And by the way, I’m still a Yankee man.

My job seems to keep me very busy and sometimes it gets a little monotonous but as I said before, it’s a good job and attended with a few advantages. One of the battery clerks was formerly from Omaha and occasionally we can recall something that was familiar to us both. And another of the clerks is a colored boy from Harlem. But the evenings are never long enough and it seems that something comes along about every night to keep me from studying as much as I would like to. Lights are out at nine-thirty which makes time pretty short. I think the boys are about as news minded as any in the outfit and we have our billet wall papered with battle maps to follow the communiqués closely. Of course we do a lot of talking about the progress of the war and not infrequently about the aftermath and what to expect when we come home. Sometimes I get a little depressed about it and wonder if I will ever attain what I started in school. But I cannot put (it) effectively on paper as I think about it so that’s enough of that.

Before I close I want to repeat about how happy I am for Kate and Tom and how much I wish I could see all three of them.

Well let’s call this quits—

Love,

7 July 1943

Dearest Folks:

My letter writing is becoming atrocious but perhaps you have also had spells when you didn’t feel like writing or found so many other things to do that you neglected it. Well, I guess that’s my situation. On my pass last Sunday, the Fourth, I forgot all about the customary fireworks but had a good time dancing and loafing at the army recreation center. I believe it was one of the best days off that I spent since I’ve been here and the next time I hope to spend the day on the beach. I guess I told you about the places in a previous letter. Our open air theatre near our camp has been built up considerably. Until now we have night shows once a week at night that are usually put on by the USO or home talent. Although you might be a little abashed to sit through a movie I wished you could hear the cracks that come forth. From the picture I sent you, you can tell about what it used to look like. Tomorrow night we will have another show preceded by a little swing session by our band. The band is a part of the battery and I think they do a darn good job.

I haven’t heard from Dick since I returned but I guess it is up to me to write him a letter soon. I’m anxious to see the pictures we took and if they don’t turn out I’ll be very disappointed.

Tonight I think I’ll stay in and perhaps do a little more reading on my book that is plenty thick and will probably take me a long time to read. I hope you can find the ones I mentioned although you will probably have to do a little looking around. I very seldom work at night and I want to know as much when I get out of the army as when I came in, I hope.

Every time I see a newsreel on North Africa I think of Jim and wonder if possibly he is in some of the scenes. I suppose he was right in the thick of it and I hope he came out none the worse for it. It’s hard to imagine Halsey missing knowing him as I do and trying to picture him dead or a prisoner—I guess everyone experiences the same feeling, especially when the person is so well known and knowing his peculiarities. As for myself I don’t think the Allies will ever make an invasion of the continent as everyone thinks they will. The enemy has built up terrific defenses and the casualties and cost would be too high when they can either (be) bombed into submission or beaten from the Russian side. I would bet even money it will be a grand scale attack from the air and the Russian side but no invasion. I can’t see Japs whipped because of the big problems of supply and the new systems of communications that will be necessary before we can really begin to knock them off. I think it will be at least two years yet. I hope I’m way off on my opinions but I’m afraid the war with the Japs will be as long as the time the Germans have been fighting. Well, that’s enough on that.

I believe I’ve said enough for this letter. Maybe, too much, but I don’t feel unduly pessimistic about the future, because I really believe times will be better than ever when this is over. But unless somebody can formulate a lasting peace then we better quit now, and get ready for another one. I guess this is good night and don’t let what I have written make you feel gloomy or downhearted because I’m not myself. I know all will turn out the way we want it to and if you have the right kind of confidence it can never be shaken. I miss you all more than you can imagine.

Love,

26 June 1943

Dearest Folks:

I think this is the letter that you have been waiting for because I will tell you about my visit with Dick. We were very fortunate from start to finish on arrangements. I arrived Monday morning and his pass started the same day and he ran across the drive in front of the YMCA to meet me. Immediately we found a couple of easy chairs and talked about many things most of them about home. He really looks in the pink—much better than I ever saw him. I made arrangements to stay at a military establishment that is run like a hotel and is a swell place for a vacation, not to mention the low cost. Again we were lucky for he got a bed next to mine so we were together all the time. I was there for three full days and during that time we knocked all over town and did about everything, and did something that neither of us had done before. We rented surfboards at the famous beach and had a real morning of excitement and thrills. Riding a surfboard is beautiful to watch but not easy to master. About all we could do was hang on when a wave hit us and hope the board didn’t get away. I got a little worried about Dick and sent a guy out after him but he was alright and having a great time. Dick got his legs sunburned and I got pretty red myself but not enough to be uncomfortable. Besides going to the beach we saw shows, roller skated and took in a couple (of) dances. Of course the army has many clubs and entertainments which are all very good but at the same time every place is crowded with soldiers. And all the time we took a lot of pictures everywhere we went which will probably give you a better idea of the place. Dick will send them to you when they are finished.

We had such a great time together that I knew it was going to be tough when my boat sailed. In the morning early he went to the pier and our goodbye was brief, neither of (us) wanting to show any signs of weakening. It was hard to say goodbye knowing that the next time we would be together would probably be home. Dick seemed to be very happy, in good spirits generally. I know you worry about him but his level headedness will keep him safe and I know we’ll both be home perhaps sooner than we think.

The trip was a good vacation although the boat ride both ways kept me on a bed to keep from getting sick. There was a real bond between us that I hadn’t noticed before and he was as eager to talk about home as I was. The big city is seething with war workers and servicemen and the streets and shops are crowded so that you wait in line for about everything. Then about five o’clock the streets are almost entirely deserted, as if the people had been shadows a little while before. I spent quite a while in a big bookstore and saw plenty that I wanted to buy but didn’t because I would have no place to put (them) when I (was) finished with them. My footlocker is filled with books now, however I did buy a couple.

Probably the only good thing about returning was the mail that was waiting. I see that I owe Nancy a couple and one to Phil and I will answer them. Dick told me how they are both growing but I suppose even with my imagination I couldn’t really picture them as they are. Perhaps in my next letter I will think of some things that have slipped my mind, but for the meantime, I’ll call this sufficient and write again real soon. All your letters make a world of difference—a difference I couldn’t imagine without them.

Love,

12 June 1943

Dear Folks:

I can’t put off writing you much longer—the last five days have been busy ones for me and this is about the first time I could sit down for awhile and catch up on my correspondence. Had a letter from June today—about the first one I guess. And yesterday had another letter from Dick and we are just waiting for the day. Arrangements for transportation are difficult for any certain day but I’m sure we can get together alright. I’m going to ask you to send me twenty dollars by money order to help me with this trip. It will cost me fifty dollars or more and with my allotment and bond it will cut me pretty short. If you register the letter it will arrive much faster. Has the thirty-five dollar allotment been arriving? Well, I’m going to take a shower, go to the show and tomorrow go on pass and to the dance. A short letter but at least it’s something.

Love,

9 June 1943

Dearest Folks:

I just finished a good game of bridge after making a few blundering mistakes. You can imagine what kind of a player I am from the sessions we used to have but we have a good time and to make it a little more interesting put two bits on a rubber. Only twice during the game did we bid under two. I guess bridge games aren’t too interesting a subject to be writing about so I’ll get on (to) something else. I had a letter from Dick today and our negotiations for a meeting are progressing pretty favorably. From the tone of his letter he wanted to see me pretty bad and was trying to fix things up for a good visit. His whole letter had a greater feeling of softness than his usual style and mentioned how badly he would like to be home again. He also thought it was pretty swell about Kate going to have a baby, and he said to be sure to bring along a camera.

I had your letter with the clipping about Jim now being a lieutenant in the Air Corps. I always thought he was the best real friend I ever had and I’ll always look forward to meeting him again after the war. He looks about the same as ever in the picture, maybe looks a little older. I always like to hear about the guys, what they are doing and where they are and then thumb back to the days when we went around together. The war better end in a hurry I feel like I’m getting old and missing some good times.

Tomorrow is my day off but it will probably not be any different from the other pass days. I do go out about weekly with a gal that works in the hospital, but she is nothing to whistle about and she’s pretty dumb. Last Sunday our battery had a dance in a gym nearby and I did have (a) pretty good time although the ratio of guys to gals was about ten to one. Before the dance they ate with us in the mess hall which was papered up with streamers. We all preened up like Sunday School boys on children’s day and I really felt like one. Our own dance band in my opinion is very good so when I couldn’t dance I could listen to the music. One of the boys has a fiddle and occasionally I borrow it for a brief brush up but the privacy is practically nil which doesn’t mix with my modesty.

I should write several more letters tonight but I can’t make myself get going so I’ll probably end up going to bed early and putting them off another night. Well I hope that by the time you get this I will have seen Dick, so I’ll draw the curtain here.

Love,

The pictures are two attempts at the sunset.

27 April 1943

Dearest Folks:

Here’s another letter from that APO in the Pacific and I guess it’s about time. I was developing somewhat of a peeve against my mainland correspondents and resolved not to write until the letters started coming, however this wasn’t directed against you for yours come regularly and consistently. When I read your letter today I felt pretty low and at the same time sore at myself. You mentioned dad’s birthday and I did nothing about remembering him, and although I know what you would say, I still feel bad about it. However, perhaps I can make it up by a telephone call. Arrangements have been made for transpacific calls, so perhaps at the end of next month when I will get my increased pay I can swing the deal. I think it would be a great experience and something to remember for a long time. And this time it will be on me for no collect calls are possible. I suppose you have the pictures and the bond by now, and soon I will have the prints of the ones we took on the hike to the ranch. Well last Sunday I got off for the dance and had a good time despite the heat and the crowdiness. In the morning I attended Easter services in a very beautiful and inspiring church, but despite the singing and the flowers could not feel the same response from my own church. I have been invited to the convent again for a revisit, and hope I can keep the date if only for the supper. In order to write a letter I have to start thinking about a day or two in advance and then hope that I haven’t forgotten what I was going to say, but that is usually what happens. Last night a fellow in the band got ahold of an old fiddle and when he started playing I couldn’t help going over and having a look. Finally a little later, I even got a stroke or two myself and found I was pretty rusty, but with the little privacy and my propensity for shyness I’m afraid I won’t improve. Here is the end of the sheet and the end of this too.

Love,