Dengue fever Archives - Moss Letters

15 July 1945

Dear folks,

Been lazy as the devil today, slept most of the afternoon and didn’t write the letters I intended to. Last night I thought a typhoon was on the way when it began to blow but it just turned out to be a strong wind, although it almost took my shack.

Had a letter from Phil a few days ago. I hope he can stay in his present assignment. The battalion commander left today under the demobilization plan. In his little farewell speech he said that as far as he knew we would all be out by September. Boy how I hope he is right. He also said it was definite that those of us with over 85 points would not be in any more combat, which means that I will be sure of coming home. It looks like a part of your prayers have been answered, and mine too. I think the commanding officer was just a little optimistic on getting home but even if it is by Thanksgiving, I can sweat out the time.

Received a course in advertising from Armed Forces Institute so I can have something to put my time in on. Quite a nice book I got too.

Saw a pretty good show last night “Twice Blessed”—plenty of laughs. I wish civilians could see some of the films shown only to GI’s. They are very good and typically GI but probably a little rough for civilians.

I wish I could think of something more to write but I believe this is the best I can do tonight. Enclosed is another commendation from General Hodge of the XXIV Corps. I guess we did pretty good. I hope you will read it over.

Love,

Attached with the Letter

HEADQUARTERS XXIV CORPS
Office of the Commanding General
APO 2356 July 1945

SUBJECT: Performance of Corps Artillery on Okinawa

TO: Commanding General, XXIV Corps Artillery, and APO 235

1. As a member of my staff and as the Commander of the XXIV Corps Artillery you are aware of the great interest I have taken in its operations and the extensive knowledge I have of its accomplishments in the campaign just completed. I take this opportunity to express to the fine command so ably handled by you, my pride in, my gratitude for, and my appreciation of, its outstanding performance in the highly important Okinawan Campaign.

2. Those in position to make comparisons have called this the bitterest battle of the Pacific to date as well as being of the highest strategic importance. The Corps Artillery, although having prior combat in its various components, was assembled in its entirety for the first time in Okinawa. Its teamwork, cooperation, enthusiasm and high standard of performance of all assigned missions, have won expressions of high confidence and unstinted praise from all units it supported. Its effectiveness has had great influence upon our success in the winning of a battle where Artillery has played a major role.

3. The artilleryman does not have the stimulation of hand-to-hand combat with the enemy to spur him to great heights. His task is exacting and tiresome and too frequently he cannot be kept fully informed of the devastating effects of his hard labor through the long days and nights. Nevertheless, the praise of our doughboys for the medium and heavy artillery, the statements of enemy prisoners as to the great destruction wrought and the hundreds of enemy guns and installations destroyed by the Corps Artillery all attest to the fact that it turned in an all-out performance of highest caliber. Furthermore, your command demonstrated its ability to take care of itself in combat under all conditions in that it furnished all of its own protection against infiltrators, sustained low casualties and low sick rate, and did not totally lose a single gun to enemy action in the entire 82 days of combat. A fine example of esprit as good fighting men is the fact that when the enemy area became too small to use artillery, the Corps Artillery voluntarily and enthusiastically did a superb job of infantry patrolling and blocking in mopping up areas surrounding their bivouacs, killing several hundred of the enemy with small arms with almost no casualties of their own.

4. The XXIV Corps was highly successful in the Battle of Okinawa. The success of any command in combat is due primarily to the teamwork, perseverance, determination and the will to fight on the part of its individual officers and men. Individuals of the Corps Artillery have demonstrated those characteristics in high degree and it is my desire that you bring the contents of this letter to the attention of all members of your command.

/s/ John R. Hodge
JOHN R. HODGE
Lieutenant General, United States Army
Commanding

1^st Ind.

HEADQUARTERS, XXIV Corps Artillery, APO 235, 8 July 1945

TO: Each member of the XXIV Corps Artillery

I forward this letter with a deep feeling of humility and pride, to each member of the XXIV Corps Artillery as an individual, because each of you, by your outstanding performance of duty and will to fight, is responsible for the superior results achieved by your organization in this battle.

(s) J. J. Sheetz
J. R. SHEETZ
Brigadier General, U. S. Army
Commanding

25 October 1944

Dear Folks:

I have wanted to write you all day and I hope this letter gets to you with all possible speed. I’m afraid my last two epistles didn’t sound too cheerful, and you may have thought I was quite the old grouch, and probably you felt a little bad about them, so I want to make amends for them and try to make you believe I didn’t mean all of it. I received two letters from you last night and they were such good ones that I felt like a two bit heel. So please attribute them to the mood I was in and not any kind of a criticism of you. I know how you feel and how you must worry and I shouldn’t do anything to make it worse for you, so accept my apologies, and believe me when I say I didn’t mean them.

Well today was sort of a red letter one. No, not furloughs or a big stack of mail or anything like that, just some fresh meat. A couple of ex-cowhands took a jeep and shot a young cow from one of the herds that run around here. They slaughtered it and got it ready and the cooks did a good job of turning out a real supper tonight – really hit the spot. If the spuds hadn’t been dehydrated it would have been perfect.

Saw the movie ‘Mr. Skeffington’ tonight and I thought it was superb. One of the best I have seen in a long time. No war or flag waving exhibitions, just a good peacetime cinema. I thought it was great and the moral behind it was very good. Bette Davis is tops in my book.

In Dad’s letter last night he said the souvenirs had arrived OK. Was the box broken up and was everything there? There are so many regulations connected with the mailing of souvenirs that I wondered if anything had happened to them. And don’t forget to mail me the clipping that Si Parker had about them.

And another bright spot on the calendar this week. For the first time since last May I had a coke. Yep, we were issued ten of them – I don’t know how long they will last – but I look on each one as a precious treasure and hate to drink one. Even though we can’t cool them very well they still taste pretty good. The beer situation is getting better and I think I have about six or seven cans left. Usually drink one every night just before the show.

Gee mom it sounds like you were pretty worried about me when I had the fever, but really it wasn’t as bad as I believe you imagined. It’s all over now and I feel fine again. As a matter of fact I feel better than I have for some time.

I can just visualize how much trouble you went to, to get Dick’s and my boxes ready and you don’t know how good it makes me feel to know that – well that’s just the kind of parents they are and whatever they would do for us they wouldn’t think it would be enough. As each month goes by I wake up a little more to the fact that you are both the best in the world, and then those inconsiderate things I used to do and the worries I caused for you come in my thoughts, and I wonder if I can ever show you all the respect and love you both deserve.

We haven’t received any second class mail in weeks so of course that means I don’t get the Free Press, so you be sure and throw in all those clippings – even the little ones about anybody I used to know. I suppose soon the mail will come rushing in like a broken dam and I’ll be reading for weeks to catch up. Of course the first class is coming regularly and in fine time. I’ll bet you’re really busy taking care of Dick’s and my letters, and I’ll bet you never wrote so much in your life – even love letters.

Shirley Carroll’s dilemma is indeed a sorry one, but it seems to be following a typical Carroll pattern. If it hadn’t have been this, it would have been something else. Perhaps she should have been more careful, although I do feel sorry for her and thought she would make out better than most of them.

The little mention of the fiddle is something I often think about, and I get a deep urge to play it again. Your ears must have been very sympathetic when I picked it up. And my gas models often put a curb in my daydreams. I’ve thought that after the war I would start in again as a hobby, and have a little more to do with (it).

Well the lights around the area are going out one by one and I seem to be one of the few left so maybe I better be thinking about hitting the hay. But be sure and pick out all the nice things in those sour letters and forget the bad ones. I guess we all get (into) moods and I don’t know what made me that way.

Love,

10 October 1944

Dear Dad:

I was all set to go to bed and call it another day but just received a letter from you so thought I’d answer it while there is still a little time before bed.

It’s about time you received the package I sent you. I mailed it about a month ago and I’m anxious to hear what you have to say about them, the souvenirs I mean. Dick is anxious to know about them. I imagine they will make quite a stir.

As usual it rained plenty again today. A guy from Nebraska would go nuts with all the rainfall here. Everything is green now and the island looks very fertile. Radio Tokyo a few nights ago answered that all civilians and soldiers had died on the island and raved about their glorious stand. But all of them couldn’t see the ‘suicide’ stand and there’s still plenty of civilians around trying to get another start with what there is left. Of course they can only move around in certain areas and of course don’t get around the military areas. I don’t trust any of them.

I’m glad to hear, in a way, that you’re not moving to Bridgeport however whatever you would have done would have been okeh with me. I’m very anxious to see the house for it must be a beauty with all the work you have been doing, and how super lovely it will be to enjoy it. You don’t know how much I think about all the little things that you probably never think about. How I’d like to pull a bottle of ice cold beer from the refrigerator and drink it with you.

I’m feeling pretty good after the dengue fever but I’m not overly fat, if you know what I mean. Boy how I could sit down to a home cooked meal with all my favorites and eat forever.

Saw an Abbot and Costello show tonight that was a stinker. You should see us at a show. We sit in the worst rain and never notice it or wait a half an hour while they change a reel or get a bug off the lens. The Aladdin at its worst was a palatial ‘Hippodrome’ beside ours. In a few days Betty Hutton will appear with a troupe. The guys will probably go nuts over her not having seen a white woman since last May. And although we haven’t seen a white woman in a long time still we have our sex morality lectures and are told the customary things. A little ironical.

Well I wasn’t lucky enough to draw a furlough but maybe my luck will change someday. The quotas seem to be getting bigger and I’m hoping I’ll soon be lucky, however don’t be expecting to see me because anything can happen and then it’s better to be a little pessimistic. But after three years it seems something ought to happen.

Mom intimated I might have somebody in mind back there – feminine I mean but that’s not the case. I haven’t written to a girl in a long time but I’m thinking I ought to do something about it. I’ll have to start from scratch when I get back.

Been playing a little bridge lately but it’s hard to find players in this outfit – they all play pinochle.

Well I’m about finished for tonight. Just wrote Gram a letter – should write them more often. You’ve been doing a good job of writing – it’s depressing to not get a letter at mail call and you’ve been seeing to it that that doesn’t happen often, so I got to keep up my end too.

Well better stop and do some more dreaming.

Love,

5 October 1944

Dear Folks:

I haven’t written to you for six days now because in that time I have had the dengue fever and it does a pretty effective job of making you feel miserable and putting you out. My fever was up pretty good for the first few days and now it has gone although I still feel hot and have a red doppler rash. The fever hits your muscles and every joint aches, especially the small of your back. Was around today but felt too weak to do much. I think I weigh about one twenty-eight so I’m underweight a little. The menu consists largely of dehydrated foods and that scourge of the army ‘Spam’ and as I don’t eat them, don’t get fat. We have not had an ice cold drink or dessert in four months. Oh! but I do have beside me again tonight a bottler of Pabst beer and that will soothe my ruffled feelings. It is about as warm as a leftover dinner but I’m getting used to that.

Last night I received the letter about the proposed move to Bridgeport. I thought about going back home too but I hope Dad takes the job. I think it’s a darn good break and I’m sure Bridgeport will be a fine place to live. But as you said don’t move into a house that isn’t nicer than the one we have now. Dick and I will probably be here quite a while yet and you will have plenty of time to fix the place up, but it would be disheartening to not come back to the anything but the best. Minatare may fold up someday and the idea of living in Bridgeport sounds good to me. So I say go ahead and although we may not like it now we’ll like it more in the future. What will you do with the house and the store?

Had a letter from Dick last night. Good to hear from him. Well I’m plenty tired and feel weak so I’m going to stop for tonight.

Lots of love,

7 August 1944

Dear Folks:

In a few minutes I’m going over the hill and down the road to the show but first I better scratch you out a short epistle. The last time I wrote you I was on Saipan where I was with Dick and where I could see Jack, but now I’m three miles across the channel on Tinian. Tinian is a green, oblong island with a plateau down the middle. It reminds me much of Maui. The fields are well laid out, and abounding with sugar cane, sweet potatoes and other small crops. Looking at the valley from Lake Minatare is much like the scene from here. Most of the farm homes I have seen look as though the Jap farmers must have been pretty well off. More presentable than those on Saipan. Tinian towns must have been picturesque little settlements when it was whole, but now it looks like Garapan. I never imagined I would see such destruction as I had seen in newsreels, etc., but that’s all I have seen for the last two months. Every building and shed has been hit, and even small houses setting hidden in cane fields have been demolished. On most of the Jap homes, the house is of wood with a tin roof, while the barn is usually reinforced concrete about eight inches thick, and a large cistern to collect rain water. Water by the way is a pretty important matter here and probably it contributed no little in whipping the Japs. Probably every Jap farmer was forced to build a concrete barn and maintain some stock for the army. On the southern part of the island snipers and civilians are being collected, although the island has been secured for some time. From the wreckage of houses we have taken what was left to make ourselves some shelter against the rain, and I wished you could see some of the Rube Goldberg contraptions that have been arranged. The architectural masterpieces that are showers are something to see. It seems that every piece of wreckage can be put to use in some way. It has been raining a lot lately and the mud is bad to slip around in. I’m getting behind on dirty clothes and tomorrow I think I’ll be forced to do some laundry. I wished you could see us whip up our supper. We have a small stove and we’re sure to make some man a good wife. The rations get a little tiresome but soon we’ll have a kitchen and back to good rations.

Well Mom and Dad I’m still very well. Dengue fever has hit some but I’ve been okeh so far. Of course the only really bad element to it all is the distance from home. I haven’t seen Dick for a week or two and probably won’t get to see him for some time although you can never tell. Probably I may not see Jack again either. Dusk is pulling the shades down so I better grab my mosquito drop and flashlight and get along to the show. Last night we sat in the rain and saw a show that was bad for the dogfaces titled ‘Love Can’t Be Rationed’. About the scarcity of men in the states and the feminine wolves. What a situation. Well adios this time.

Love,