Dances Archives - Page 3 of 3

8 July 1942

Dear Folks:

It’s about seven o’clock and I’ve just finished shaving and sprucing a bit and I feel pretty good so I’ll answer your letter of today and Saturday. Suppose the main topic is the fourth of July celebration. We were granted passes all day Saturday and Sunday and it seemed like a furlough. A bunch of us left about nine o’clock Saturday and went into Yakima about five miles. On the way in we were picked up by an old couple who were herding a dilapidated fruit truck of about ’26 vintage and before we had gone far the whole back end looked like flies on a molasses jar. Our first sergeant and his wife live in Yakima and previously he had invited some of us over, so we went there. I appreciate a bathtub all the more now because when we got there his wife had eight cases of beer frosted down by two hundred pounds of ice. We did it up in big style singing and carrying on. In the evening five of us got a hotel room then took in some dances. Yakima is certainly a pretty town, trees all over and many beautiful homes. And the people appear very friendly. Stayed in bed til Sunday noon then went to a show and came back 5:00 Monday morning. A swell weekend.

The country around here reminds me of the Platte Valley in many ways. From our camp site we get a good view of the checkered green fields and orchards but up on the hills on either side it is dry and barren. Our camp in relation to Minatare would be about three or four miles beyond Lake Minatare.

I’ll dig up your letter and answer some questions now. The first item—my money situation is good. We were paid the third and I had about $35.00 left after bonds and laundry cleaning were taken out. As a matter of fact we get better food here than at the Fort, plenty of salads, fruit, and fresh meat. Tonite for supper we had roast duck and Sunday turkey (I wasn’t here). When we first came I drank water constantly but now my consumption is about normal. At every meal we are given salt tablets and our food has an abnormal amount. We haul the water from the water tower and drink it from a lister bag supported on a tripod. Yes the cadre is still going I believe after we leave here, which is two weeks after this one, July 25. And we are five or six miles from Yakima. Some guy shuttles a bus back and forth but usually we get a taxi for thirty-five cents. I got the picture of you and Kate and I remarked about it most graciously in one of my letters. Perhaps you didn’t get one of mine. Don’t go out of your way for the cookies, I forgot about the sugar rationing. You said something about watermelon in your letter—well I went to a restaurant and ate plenty and everything else I liked. Furloughs still seem in the offing—an outfit that just left here in our division are on them now so it is told. Only fifteen days though.

Our holiday was marred by a tragic incident Saturday afternoon. A big strapping fellow from Missouri with a pleasing sublimity of the hill country drowned in the canal I told you about. The canal is V-shaped lined with cement and about ten or twelve feet deep and the only place where a fellow can get out is at ladders at about ½ mile intervals. The current is so swift that if you get beyond the ladder it is impossible to get out. The last time I was there another of our men almost went down and it took all of us to get him out. Consequently swimming is strictly verboten there but the battery furnishes us a truck every nite to go to the river. C battery is certainly getting the bad breaks. Last January a fellow was shot on guard duty and now this. The skipper (battery commander) took it very hard.

I actually feel better out here and have much more endurance. The heat is pretty depressing at times but it has been cooler the last couple of days. I’ve lost five pounds though.

Tell Quincy I’ll write her tomorrow.

Guess this is about all for this time—perhaps when I feel a little more literary bent, I can write that letter for the Herald. Wish I could see your new home and take advantage of your sleeping offer. Maybe next month, who knows. Say hello to Jim for me.

Love,

I haven’t heard from Wylma since last March 1^st.

22 June 1942

Dear Folks:

About an hour before lights out and a good time to get something important done.

Suppose Dad got my telegram last Sunday. I was in Seattle when I sent it. I met a girl at a division dance last week and as she had a car suggested we go to Seattle. We left Saturday noon, and until evening she showed me the town. For supper we went to a waterfront café that was really something unusual for me. I tried some crab legs and to my surprise they were delicious. Later, after dinner, we went to the club she was a member of. After that we took in Seattle’s largest dance ballroom then drove home getting here about three. I had a swell time and it seemed like the old days to ride around in a civilian car. We saw the University of Washington, Boeing Aircraft and plenty of flying fortresses guarded by barrage balloons, some set in people’s backyards. The Boeing plant is camouflaged so that it is hardly visible from the hi-way.

In a couple of weeks we are going to Yakima for maneuvers and later I don’t know where; but believe I will be transferred out before long.

Guess this is about all this time. Send some cookies if you can. I’ll get them. Will write tomorrow.

28 April 1942

Dear Folks:

For some unexplicable reason I’m not much in the mood for writing but I better do it anyway.

Our tour finally terminated at Fort Lewis here in Washington—at least temporarily anyway. A large place accommodating ninety thousand men and set in a bunch of pine trees—very pretty but rainy. In fact it has rained practically all the time we’ve been here. But aside from the rain the sight of the barracks looked like a stream to a desert traveler. It seemed like old home week to sleep on a cot with springs, pull a sheet over you and go to the latrine all in one building. To eat in a mess hall and hang my clothes on a good rack and shave in a large mirror all rewarded the tiring trip. But one bad thing is the soot. The barracks and the mess halls burn a cheap coal and the chimneys lay down a heavy screen of dirt—especially in this damp weather. Gas would be a good thing here. The main part of the fort is pretty swanky with its red brick buildings and green lawns but our section is pretty drab. The rumor is that we will move next week to the new large barrack buildings. Today I was on divisional fatigue and was in the main fort cleaning a house where the general will live. You should have seen me cleaning woodwork and cleaning bathrooms. I never saw so many trucks—acres and acres and warehouses and all the rest connected with the operation of a place this size. Seattle, is about forty miles and Olympia about fifteen. Will have to see Seattle soon.

Hope you have sent my box by now. I’m waiting anxiously for it. By the way the address is changed again to:

Btry C, 222 FA Bn
APO 40, Fort Lewis, Washington

The package and your letters will reach me alright by the first address I sent though.

The nite we spent in Bend, Oregon was quite an experience. As soon as the churches and women knew we were coming they immediately broadcast a call for girls for a dance and other entertainment. It is a fairly small place about like Gering and when we landed there soldiers took over. We got free coffee and doughnuts and later a dance and the people were swell. But cold wow—the temperature went down to 20 degrees and when I got up at four in the morning frost was a half inch thick on my sleeping bag. I slept warm though even if it was on the ground in the open.

The next nite we stayed in Vancouver and of course it was raining and miserable. Got into town for awhile—also stood on the Columbia River bridge with one foot in Oregon and the other in Washington. Boy the country is pretty around here.

Tonite I went to a show to ease lying around and doing nothing. Also went last nite. I still believe we will be given furloughs soon, but for how long I don’t know. All kinds of rumors are out as to how long we will remain in this camp.

Well it’s fifteen until nine and still light outside. I can hardly believe it.

Enough for this time—probably I never mentioned a lot of things you are wondering about but I’ll take care of that next time.

Wish I was home.

Love,

10 April 1942

Dear Folks:

Suppose you will be surprised by the series of lots of letters but I’ve had so much time to do nothing that letter writing becomes a good recourse when the time drags.

Finished my tour of guard duty at Carlsbad so I’m back in Escondido. Two letters were waiting for me—one from each of you. When you send me a box again will you include a heavy bath towel and perhaps a couple of hankies? I know you will send a box as you always have so I just as well make my suggestions. Some other things—hair shampoo, whole peanuts, that’s just about everything. I’m as proud as pie over the sweater and hate to have to wear it underneath. I can wear it on the outside only on unofficial formations.

Guess I’ll dig up your letters and take care of your questions. First—the actual temperature doesn’t seem to get so low but somehow the nights are very chilly and invariably we wear jackets and overcoats on nite guard duty, and then we still get cold. Yes, I sleep in my sleeping bag every nite. I would freeze without it—or I feel like I would. Usually in the evening we have a fire going in our little cone shaped stove so it’s comfortable in the tents. In fact your Easter card and the letter about the suit—take your pick—and I also hope Dad is making use of them. When the day comes that I will be handed that precious little document inscribed with the word ‘discharged’ I am going to wear different clothes everyday just to see what it feels like. Now that I got to thinking about it, it will seem odd very different to get back into civilian life. I never realized the freedom and privileges that I enjoyed. Suppose you will for awhile have to wake me with a bugle, blow a horn for chow and give me an inspection on Saturdays. How good it will seem to be relieved of the regulations of uniformity that we all follow.

Last Wednesday got a letter from Gram inviting me to a Nebraska picnic at Long Beach. Dick, Loyd, and June are going but I’m tied up, of course, so can’t attend! It does no good to make plans for anything—take your liberty as it comes and make arrangements later. Last nite a group of women with the Women’s Club in Vista entertained about forty of the soldiers to a dance and games in their clubhouse. I became entangled in a good bridge game with three of the town’s solid (+ solid) women who rank with the sharks. Of course I’m not acquainted with all the intracies and opportunities of the game but we got along pretty good and they were very gracious about my ineptness. They hung on all my words and finally we both recalled someone we knew in Scottsbluff so we became very chummy.

Another Sabbath tomorrow which means pancakes (a rare treat) for breakfast and church later. Besides pancakes-I also saw a boiler full of chickens so suppose we will have chicken for dinner with some good mashed potatoes.

I don’t know any Hoover in my battery although he may be in another battery of the battalion.

I see Dad you mentioned something of going to Alliance to see the army pass threw. Well I suppose a uniform would cause a mild sensation back there but out here they are so commonplace they are never noticed. Everyday convoys of trucks for miles in length pass through the town and P-38 interceptors, bombers and fighters fly over incessantly. Searchlights cut swatches of whiteness in the nights, and boys sit in rooms of sandbags keeping accurate logs of every happening along the coast. Troop trains sweep along, blackened out like a deadly animal and the yellow light of an alert flashes on once in a while. Rumors fly like confetti in a March breeze and the next most important topic is dope about furloughs and passes and (of course) women. I wish you could visit our battery and see what we do. Each move a vital cog in a big war wheel.

Well this covers about all from this news front and perhaps a little to much space so until the next letter.

Love,

18 March 1942

Dear folks:

I have plenty of free time while I’m waiting to take my guard tour so I can catch up on any back correspondence. Today the battery begins its tour of battalion guards which will last a week so that will mean no going out for awhile anyway. Walking four hours and sleeping eight for six days gets pretty old stuff but we will get a 24 hour pass when it is over.

Last weekend I had another pass so left about four o’clock for San Diego and the folks. I was there in time for supper. When I got there Dick was sleeping on the couch and Gram was in the kitchen and I walked in and had my soaking clothes off before they knew I was around. Boy was it raining! In the evening Dick and I went to a dance. The next morning Gram, Dick and I went to church and in the afternoon we played 18 holes of golf. The Johnson’s (Mrs. E. Johnson and Helen) were there when we got back. I missed the last bus to Escondido but had no trouble hitch-hiking the 35 miles back.

I hope to get down again a week from this coming Saturday. Dick is really swell and we had a great time.

Well the war goes on and on and everyday I wonder what will happen next. This morning at reveille formation a circular about pay allotments was read. It said that all men in eminent prospect of being shipped should consider allotting so much of their pay to dependents or to their family. I think I will do this.

You say men are enlisting everyday, yes that is true, what I mean is that any man already in one branch of the service cannot enlist or reenlist in another, which means because I am in the FA I cannot transfer to the Air Corps (except flying cadets), Intelligence, or any other branch. Right now I’m hoping to get a chance at a commission in the FA as a clerk of some kind. I have applied for an application and believe my background of ROTC and college and banking will swing it. It is as an officer in the Adjutant General’s office. Each candidate is interviewed before a board of officers and graded on appearance, bearing etc, and I hope I can get over this hurdle if the chance comes for me. In my army intelligence test I scored 132 out of 150 and only 116 is required for an officer, and 100 for the Air Corps. That’s a pretty good rating.

The weather has been so sunny and the sky so clear, except for the rain last weekend. I suppose you noticed when you were here how big and bright the stars were. I can’t get over it. Suppose you know Palomar, with the telescope, is only 18 miles from here.

Well finished ‘Kabloona’ and ‘Mantrap’. Kabloona was sure a good one, so descriptive and such a study of values and the real worth of our ‘civilization’. When the war is over I’m going on a trip like that.

The oranges are pretty plentiful now and the other day when we were in an orange grove with the gems we all had our fill. Also lemons.

Patsy sent me another box of candy yesterday so I’ll have to answer and thank her. Gramma also sent a box of fruit, and cigarettes and cupcakes.

Well so much for another letter. I got all the Free Presses so I know about everything in Minatare.

See you in the next letters.

Love,

8 March 1942

Dear folks:

I guess it’s about time I took myself in hand and began to start writing again. Sort of had a vacation last week being in San Diego. Fifteen of us were sent there for guard duty at the fire central station and it so happened that I was a KP man so I had every nite off and went to Gram’s during all my time off. It was a real visit with the folks and when I didn’t sit around with them Dick and I went out. We took in a couple of dances and a show and then Gram and I went to a show one nite. We had it so soft there that I hated to come back to Escondido. As we had no officer there we had only two meals a day; at ten and three so I was free from about four o’clock on, not much KP for fifteen men. My last nite there I stayed overnite with Gram. Dick seems pretty contented and I think he likes his job with Cudahy’s. He’s getting heavier and huskier and is a swell guy. The folks do everything for him. One afternoon as I was going to Grams, I met Dick on the ferry and he sure looked funny in his old clothes. He has a white cap with a little black bill that makes him look like an armchair engineer.

When I got back a carton of cigarettes and a box of candy from Pat and Uncle Harold were waiting for me. Some fudge that was broken up but good.

I’ve begun to read a good deal lately and by the way if you ever want to send me something make it a two-bit ‘pocketbook’. I got that book “Kabloona’ last nite and just finished reading Lewis’ ‘Mantrap’. Currently I’m about half through ‘Pride and Prejudice’ and last week finished “We Are Not Alone.’

Hope Minatare comes through in the states meet or did they get there? I read the clippings Hank sent to Dick. Also got Stub’s letter. Good to get it.

Well the war gets more involved and blacker for us, so it seems, by every communiqué. I can hardly believe it is almost spring already, but a spring that will make history. By the papers we are sending great reinforcements over but they are a mere dribble at present.

I’m just the same, had a pretty bad cold last week but it’s coming around now. Well I’m going to write to Pat and Katie and as I’m about out of news so will put the curtain now.

Love,

8 February 1942

Dear Folks:

I guess it’s been sometime since I’ve written—hadn’t realized the time had gone by.

Today was walking on the edge of town taking some pictures with another fellow when we were picked up by an elderly Swedish couple and taken to dinner. They were the swellest people and showed us all around their 55 acre orange and lemon ranch. The place is located atop a hill overlooking Escondido. A very beautiful place and he was especially proud of his pumping system and fine home. The old fellow is a man of varied talents one of them being fabrication of rayon and silk raigo. I never saw such a beautiful carpet. Very intricate and exacting. It is a hobby with him and he has had big offers from large firms. Another of his talents is playing the guitar. He used to broadcast over a Los Angeles stations and give lessons. He entertained us royally and never stopped talking.

Got acquainted last week with a girl with a car so last nite we went to a dance a ways out of town. Eleven o’clock is pretty early to get in though for a dance.

Last weekend went to San Diego. They all missed me at the ferry so after I waited until twelve June and I decided to go back across. We hit some hot spots and fooled around until we missed the last ferry back so sat in the police station til it started again. Dick and Porky brought me back Sunday afternoon. I think Dick will get on soon by the way he talks and what he said they told him. Gram says he is going to night school for plumbing. Guess Porky got a job in a grocery store.

Well my application for the Air Corps came to naught. Just after I applied an order came out to the effect that all reenlistments and enlistments in the regular army were suspended. So I’ll be in this outfit from now on. Suppose drafters will be taken in the Air Corps if they are qualified. Under a new order anyone who feels he is qualified can apply for an officer in the infantry. A high school education is all that is required. I’m thinking about it but the infantry is a dangerous place to be.

I have no idea where Purkey Berg is. He is in the infantry. The last I heard he was still at Roberts but he has probably left by now. We have been given German haircuts too. I had my eyes checked and was given a slip for a new set at my own expense. The examination showed that my right eye has become worse.

I believe at Schwaner’s the eyes checked 20/60 and here it checked 20/80. I haven’t had myself measured yet but think I’ll probably get new lenses for the old frames. I may get new ones though as we are allowed a forty percent reduction. My eyes feel better without glasses than they used to.

I don’t believe the article was mine. I never wrote on such a subject.

Guess this is everything that’s of any importance and got to write a letter to Kate.

Love,