Dick Moss Archives - Page 2 of 14

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,

8 July 1945

Dear Folks:

Wanted to write you a long letter last night but some fireworks started and the lights were turned off so I didn’t get all said I wanted to.

The mailman brought me three letters today, one from each of you and from Pat Moss. In Mom’s letter was the pictures and the clipping about Jim’s marriage. Nancy looks very sweet and innocent in her formal. I’m sure I’ll be as proud of her as you are. I’m looking forward to having her in [University of] Nebraska next fall. That’s quite a bridge behind Mom. I guess it’s more than a bridge. Dad doesn’t look like he’s getting older as far as I can see. Gramp looks very poor and Phil so husky and filled out. I’m pretty thin right now and everyone tells me about it, but I feel alright, but get a little nervous doing paperwork all the time. Maybe you can fatten me up a little. I think I weigh about 130 [pounds] – [a] little more than I did when I came in, but I think I’ll look better when I get off this island.

I don’t know what has happened to the magazines and packages you sent. Only one Free Press has arrived. The Reader’s Digest makes it pretty regular though.

You guys think I might not want to do much talking when I get back, but I think I will, or at least I think I will. But a lot of people wouldn’t really know what you were talking about and I’d get tired of them quick.

Haven’t received the letter from Carol. I hope I can get back to see them get married.

Boy the house must be a very nice place with all the redecorating you are doing. I bet you are doing it because you’re expecting somebody home.

Dick is alright and is still on the island and I should see him soon.

Love,

7 July 1945

Dear Folks:

Kind of late to be writing but I’m feeling kind of fidgety and restless while waiting to go to bed. Kind of a tiring day, so darn much paperwork it seems, but a shower brightened me up a little. It seems like the guys can always rig up a shower no matter how scarce materials are. Gas drums and a few pieces of gas pipe make up the installation.

A few nights ago I saw the show “Mrs. Parkington”. I thought it was very good. As yet we don’t have movies in our own area but it shouldn’t be long until we do. Wasn’t able to get done in time tonight or I would have gone. The hot rainless days continue seeming to weigh you down by the sultry heat, but the nights are pretty decent although some nights I don’t cover up until pretty late in the morning. Last night a few Japs around kept me awake, machine guns, and flares going off. Don’t think I’m in much danger because it isn’t as bad as it sounds. Really what it turns out to be is more of a sideshow for many of us. Last night a Jap got caught in a flare in the middle of a road junction and he was a gone pigeon before he could get away. Anyway, about one o’clock I finally got to sleep. Then this morning two or three Japs were cornered in a cane field and I sat on a bank watching the guys surround it and toss in grenades. Working in the office I don’t go on patrol but sometimes when things happen close I can get a spectator’s look.

Well tomorrow is another Sunday and I hope we can get a chaplain for services. Probably we will. How I’d like to sit in St. Andrews in Scottsbluff and be in a quiet, real church. I wished you could have seen the Episcopal Cathedral in Honolulu. It was certainly beautiful. For a long time after I left Oahu, the church sent me their publications and on Saipan I received two invitations to dances. I wasn’t able to attend [ha].

Dick and I haven’t been able to get together again but I’m sure we can have a few together soon. I don’t know where Duane is but probably he’ll show up one of these days. I told Dick about the newspaper article about meeting Duane and he laughed plenty and said it was a lot of beans.

It’s almost nine o’clock and I have another letter to write so I better stop. My getting home continues to look good and of course now knowing I can get out, it is hard on the patience. But I can hold out a little longer after so long. All I can think in our postwar plans is getting back to school.

Well au revoir.

Love,

3 July 1945

Dear Folks:

Plan to go to the show after supper so maybe I better scratch out a letter before chow. When I returned this afternoon found a letter from Mom waiting for me – a good one too.

I’m glad you like the idea of my going back to school and I’ve made up my mind that will be my postwar plan, and still go in with Dick on his plan. I hope it is possible that I can get home this fall and begin after Christmas, and even get my old room back with Mrs. Davis. I’ll really go in for it. Keep praying it will happen.

You always tell me to be careful and you are right about snipers still being around but I assure you I don’t take any chances. As a matter of fact when we have an air raid or something happens, I’m always the one who wakes up first. But things are very quiet now and what few Japs that remain are being rapidly rounded up. I’ve seen too many guys get hurt when they didn’t need to.

I hope too that Phil will remain in the states for some time. I’ll bet Carol is all excited about getting married.

I’m glad General Stilwell took over – he seems to have a good reputation and the guys talk good about him.

It’s chow time and besides I’m out of any more news so I’ll let the big one I wrote last night excuse for this one.

Love,

2 July 1945

Dear Folks:

I haven’t been writing all I should lately but it seems like when I have the time I don’t feel like it and vice versa. The weather has been steaming hot and it kind of knocks the sap out of you. Two days from the 4^th [of July] and I suppose it will be hot as hell. The nights are cool and with a slight breeze from the ocean. The stars come out bright and close every night. The days are long and it’s about eight o’clock before it gets dark.

Two days ago Dick called me up about eleven thirty in the morning and even though I was busy, managed to get off for the afternoon. All we could do was find a shady place and talk but that was enough. We talked about everything as usual and swapped mail. He is looking good but was covered with dust from the long ride he made to get to me. Soon we will be [in] a permanent area and then I [am] going to try and have him spend a few days with me. He is not having it too tough and before long he will be taking it easy. I think we have much to be thankful for as we both came through alright. I feel almost certain this will be my last combat and that is a great load off my mind. Sometimes you think maybe something will happen the next time. The artillery fire we got a couple of times was making me pretty nervous, but it’s kind of humorous to think about afterwards – some of the incidents that took place. Dick and I both remarked about how our knees got to shaking a couple of times and even if you grab hold of them they still shake, even after the danger has past.

Your mail reaches me in as good a time as mine gets to you so you see how good the service is. And almost everyday I get one from someone. I received one of the first class Free Presses, and the most recent I’ve yet gotten but the packages and other magazines must still be on the way.

I have been allowed to tell you I’m in the XXIV Corps and I will wear that patch when I get back. It is a white circle with two blue hearts. My stateside uniform will look colored up with the Asiatic Pacific Ribbon with two stars, the Philippine Liberation with one star, good conduct, and American defense ribbons. I will have six overseas bars and one three-year bar. I will look like a veteran. But I hope it won’t be too long til its Mr. Moss and current scuttlebutt says it will. I think that regardless of what others say. My old eyes got misty as hell last night when I went over to the radio and heard some music that I used to play in the symphony at [the University of] Nebraska. What I want to do when I get back is just be a complete independent loafer for a few weeks and sleep every morning til ten, and then get up and eat strawberries and cream on breakfast food and tear into some fresh eggs and milk, then stick around the house and look at Dad and you and get re-acquainted. Another thing I’m looking forward to is new clothes, it will seem funny not to have everything the same. I will get $300 at discharge and I suppose it will take about all of that for a new outfit.

You probably haven’t been receiving any bonds. The last one should have been for February but before long you will get four at one time. They are only sent when we get paid and I haven’t been paid for four months. About the only good aspect of this place is that you can save money. To control inflation we can draw only ten bucks a month and the rest must go home. So I will probably have something over a hundred to send. I hope I will apply my savings in a wise manner when I get back and I would appreciate postwar ideas from both of you. Dick and I talked over my orchard deal and he is for it so I told him I would investigate when I got back and find out first hand its possibilities. I would like to go in [to] the deal where Dick could farm as he wants to and me be the partner but an inactive one. I think the Army has made me want something solid and be my own boss. I have had enough orders directed at me. Some officers think they are right solely because of their rank regardless of what an enlisted man may think and sometimes I feel like it’s a slave and master set up. But that’s not true of all of them but a few can make it bad.

Haven’t seen Duane for a long time. I wonder what he thinks now. He was pretty cocksure and had certain ideas of how to win this war. He thinks he’s going to be home soon but how in the world he figures it, I don’t know. I suppose Marge is getting fatter every day. Wished I had a heart interest myself. These married guys really say it’s great.

I hope I can read my law books again soon when we get settled down. I’ve hauled them around in a box since Oahu. On Leyte I gave one to a Philippine school and they were really glad to get it. Also I expect to get some books on advertising. I signed up for an Army Institute course about three weeks ago. If I get out this year I think I’ll get back in school, sometimes I think by golly I’ll get an education and a good one if I don’t have anything else. I may be a little older but there will probably be plenty like me. But I don’t know just how I will feel when I get ….

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wonder when his discharge was coming.

I started to quit once before and I better do it this time. So adios for another time.

Love,

16 June 1945

Dear Folks:

While I was eating chow tonight someone brought me two letters, so I sat over my coffee and read your two good communiqués. It seems that I’ve been gone so long and things have changed so much since I left that a letter means so much and puts a good touch to a rough day. I’ve been very poor on my writing lately but I’ve been so busy that I couldn’t find the time. But I do want to write you as often as possible.

In your letters you both mentioned the heavy rain but since I wrote that letter, the rain has subsided and it has been very dry and now the dust is bad on the roads. Yesterday I was traveling quite a bit on an inspection trip and passed thru Noha and had a better look than what I last described to you. It must have been a picturesque city and by far the most modern since leaving Oahu. There are many large brick buildings of stores, government offices, theatres, etc. You know Noha had one quarter which housed the geisha girls and prostitutes and a general entertainment area. They say the girls numbered some four thousand. Through Noha there is a paved road and as I drove over it I couldn’t help but think of our own highway. The first paved road since Oahu. In the estuary were several Jap bodies floating, and in the harbor, masts of sunken Jap ships stuck up out of the water.

Well it looks like some boys will be leaving soon on demobilization but I won’t hit the first quota, as some have more [points] than I. But the general feeling is that the plan will continue to work, and I feel personally that sometime in the next six months I will get my orders. Just hang on a little longer and I’m sure I’ll soon be out of it for good. Also I understand the critical score may be lowered and that makes my chances better. Guess you know I have 91 [points]. If I don’t hit another operation before I leave, everything will be hunky-dory. I know being away so long is getting both Dad and you down.

Got the little clipping of Dick and Duane and I liked it. I haven’t been able to see Dick or Ike yet because we are so far apart but soon will get around to it.

Well kind of short tonight but got to save something for next time. So adios.

Love,

11 June 1945

Dear folks:

My writing has been delayed considerably because of a succession of events that made writing difficult. And I know you’ve been anxious too.

I’ve been bouncing over the roads today and I feel pretty tired and let down tonight but not so I can’t write you. On my travels today I saw Shuri and Noha including Shuri castle or what is left of it. You know the struggle it has been to take those places. I couldn’t describe to you the desolation and wreckage. Hardly a structure stands and everywhere there is rubble of stone and wood. Only a long two-story brick building remains to what was a city of 65,000-Noha. Bulldozers nudge around through the debris clearing roads and cleaning up, and preparing areas to live in. Shuri is equally wrecked. Shuri sits in a valley surrounded by hills and ridges that shelter catacombs of interlocking caves and emplacements. Every ridge is specked with these holes. From a high view the fields are potted with circular shell holes and occasionally a huge crater of a bomb or a large naval shell. And I saw our burned out tanks, many of them, stopped in a low place where the Japs probably used their suicide tactics of planting satchel charges on the tanks and blowing themselves up. Shuri castle has a few remaining pillars still standing. They immediately remind one of the Greek ruins. Now the Japs have been pushed into a very small pocket and there they will probably repeat their banzai charge and the remainder dive into the sea as they did on Saipan. It seems that the Japanese are entirely alien to what we believe about life and the standards we live by.

Yesterday I had a look at four freshly killed Japs who were killed in their cave. They had thrown a grenade at one of our men from their hole about half way up a steep bank. After we sneaked up and threw grenades and plenty of ammunition at them, someone looked in and they had died for the emperor. One had apparently held a grenade to his chest at the last minute for his chest was blown open and his face gone. In peacetime our government will spend thousands of dollars to find the murderer of one man but here a life seems worth little.

After coming in tonight I found I had four letters, two each from Mom and Dad—one from June. They certainly were appreciated and I’ve already gone over them many times. And I’ll read them many more. Now I’m the one who isn’t keeping up, but pretty soon I should be on a regular schedule. Yesterday had two Free Press dated back in February. I’m looking forward to the recent ones you kept.

Haven’t seen Dick or Duane yet but I think it won’t be too long. Probably the island will be secured soon and then it will be easier to get around. I would like to have Dick come over and stay a few days with me if it is possible.

I can’t say much about the demobilization deal except what I read and hear. I have more than 85 points and weighing everything I feel more optimistic than pessimistic about getting home in the next few months—although I have nothing to go on. Maybe it’s like a women’s 6^th sense. But if something doesn’t materialize I will lose faith in everything. I can hardly imagine being home again. A rumor today said those over 85 will see no more combat, but as I say it’s just a rumor.

Bob Meyers and Guyla Steele now—golly I can hardly picture it and Guyla a Russian. I don’t like that. Glad to hear Jim S. is getting married but sorry to hear his folks are leaving. I thought perhaps Phil and Carol would get married on his leave and was slightly surprised to hear they didn’t. Phil sent me a picture of her. She looks pretty sweet.

On the fruit orchard deal it would be mostly oranges and grapefruit and for the first couple of years a small truck garden to alleviate expenses. Our area is in the Rio Grande Valley of Texas. I thought I would put some money into it and let Dick run the place and build up a first class orchard and do everything to produce a good orchard. To make expenses until the crop begins to produce Dick would raise a small truck garden and with the equipment I would buy, he could make money helping others spray etc. And I would come back and get the best job I could and make up some of the first year’s expenses. If I get home soon I’m going to look into it but of course I’m not going all out on it until I can find out a little more. I am anxious to talk to Dick about. I think he will like it. I know my buddy would not let me down, he’s square and honest as the day is long. He is a great guy. He is anxious to help me and he wants later to expand and then go together on a business of hardware there. We had great fun going all over it one night in a foxhole. And I know Dad would fall over backward to advise me. I’m very anxious to see the picture of the store. Nancy and Mom and Phil all write about what an institution it is getting to be.

I’m glad you had a nice birthday and I wished I could have sent you something. (The Noha department store is very short on items). I know Dick and I and Phil will all be home soon to give you an inexpensive but most wanted gift—a big kiss.

And Mom I wouldn’t want you to go out west. Stay where you are and keep home what it has always been and always will be. Many people may soon regret having done that.

And I too want Nancy to go to school and for my choice, Nebraska University. And to have every advantage of graduating. I wanted to graduate in the worst kind of way and feel very badly sometimes because I didn’t. If I were still in school and took law, I would almost be out. I hate to think I will never get a degree. My days there were filled with association and acquaintance with learning, that are long remembered. I surely want Nancy to go and have all she needs to enjoy it.

I’m sure you finally got straightened out on my outfit and I have never been able to tell you. I’m feeling fine but I think I must feel like Dad sometimes—ready to blowup and sometimes I feel nervous as hell. I just hope I can soon see you. Minor differences will seem like nothing after this.

Well it’s beginning to get a little late (9 o’clock) and today may be another heavy one. But I’ll try to write often. You can now feel much reassured for it is almost over on this island and then we can have it easier.

Better stop sometimes although I feel like writing on and on if I could dig up the items.

Love,

4 June 1945

Dear Folks:

I’m sitting in a little office tent feeling miserable as the water continually pours down and makes the ground a spongy mass of wet clay. It’s too wet to work and while I’m loafing around perhaps I can answer some of the letters I got today. Today was a good day to get mail, when practically the only bright spot in the day, was a letter. I had one from Mom, one from Dad and one from Dick. Mom’s was very recent and Dad’s was a little older. Maybe if I can go through them again for the nth time, I can find something to write about.

I know how good it must have been to see Phil and I’ll bet he looked very good. Probably he is married now, and you gave him the present from me that I mentioned. I think your attitude is the best one – about letting him get married. Personally I like the idea fine.

I’m glad Dick wrote you such a nice letter. He’s a swell guy and really appreciates things more than appears on the surface. Was glad to hear from him today and I’m expecting that we can soon get together under peaceful circumstances.

But opposite the bad news and miserable weather is the good news that the troops are going great guns on Okinawa. I think it’s about over and one more campaign gone by. I hope I have seen my last one.

I remember Everly Gibbons alright and the last I heard of him, he was a captain in the army. I always did suspect him of being a little abnormal but from the story in your letter, he must have went whole hog.

I remember Dad’s letter about the Youmans-Harris fund and I can imagine the waves of gossip it must have created. My opinion of Mrs. Youmans is getting worse every day – perhaps their money they used to have, detracted from what she was really made of.

Maybe it was a good thing Dad cautioned about just walking in because I had actually thought of doing such a thing, although I doubt if I could keep the news myself if it ever came.

My chief evening diversion is getting to be working crossword puzzles. The medical sergeant got a book from his wife, so me and a Chinese may borrow it and scratch our heads while they play cards. We think we’re getting pretty sharp at it but we ran into a tough one last night. The aid station has lights so we go there.

I’m not sure but I think we’re going to cook up some of our odds and ends of rations tonight. I think we have a can of bacon, some peaches, a little grape juice, and perhaps get a little bread from the kitchen. Quite a treat.

Well, I think I’ll write to Dick before supper then grab a shower and besides I’m out of something to write about, so I’ll call this good.

Love,

3 June 1945

Dear Folks:

Early Sunday morning right now, so I decided to observe it in my own little way and write you a letter – a long one if the material will present itself.

This morning isn’t the customary sunshiny day like most Sunday mornings – but the sky is overcast and the ground like a cow barn in winter. This “midnight soil” the Japs used to fertilize the soil lends a fowl odor to the whole area and smells especially bad in tents. It got to raining so hard that we had to put up a pyramidal tent. We couldn’t bail our holes fast enough. But aside from the rain, the situation has been quiet for me. Apparently most of the Jap artillery has been knocked out for I haven’t heard a shell in a long time. I’m always afraid a Nip will try to sneak in the area but so far they haven’t and now that the campaign is so far along, I feel easier. I hear the boys at the front are going good now and General Hodge says that organized resistance is almost over. I’m sure you can feel easier about us.

Little mail lately but I hope the mailman comes back with an armload this afternoon. They go after mail every day no matter how bad the roads are – some days it’s quite a trip. No packages yet but some of the boys are receiving packages from March so I’m expecting mine soon.

I started out to write quite a letter but I’m about washed up already. Hope to go to church today if the chaplain can get through. I’m feeling fine and just hoping that before another operation, I can get home and Dick too.

Well, I guess this (is) all.

Love,

1 June 1945

Dear Folks:

I haven’t written you for several days so I imagine you feel a little anxious. But the fact is, it has been so rainy and muddy that I couldn’t get myself to sit down to write. I think the worst part of the campaign is over, so you can feel much better. The hardest part has gone by for me, and I think the Japs are standing on their last legs now. For some time now there hasn’t been any shells come over, which is a great relief to me. And after the campaign is over, I think we will have it easy for a while, and get a little beer and movies.

Received a letter from Dad yesterday, about the only (thing) that has come in the past three or four days. Maybe the inclement weather has kept the mail planes down. Over 13” inches (of rain) fell in the past week, so you can imagine how the water must have been flowing around here. Contrary to the weatherman’s prediction that June 1^st would be the climax of the rain, today is sunshiny and sultry. Had a chance to get most of my stuff dried out. I had a lot of pictures in my billfold and they all got soaked. I have them laying in the grass now to dry out a little. But the sky always looks like another storm could break any time. Then they tell us the typhoon season begins around the 15^th. I’ve never been in a typhoon, but if they are like what I’ve seen in shows and read about, I’m not looking forward to them. But we’ll be expecting them and prepare for it.

Haven’t seen Dick or Duane since our visit quite a long time ago. But I know Dick is too far away to see me very conveniently. I don’t know where Duane is, but I’ll locate him after the island is secured. I wrote to Dick a week ago but haven’t heard from him yet. I’m sure he is okeh.

From my standpoint, nothing exciting has happened. Since the nights the Jap landed some troops behind the lines by airplanes, there has not been many planes over. Sometime ago I was standing on a hill looking into the bay when a Jap plane suddenly appeared without warning. Black flak hit all around him but he kept flying straight then dove straight for a ship. I was pulling like hell the gunners would get him before he hit the ship. He kept coming down then he burst into a ball of fire and hit the ocean. I felt like I did when the home team made a touchdown. Then after he hit a shell came whistling over and the six guys standing around my hole all dove into it, me on the bottom, with our heads as low as we could get them. You’d be surprised how fast you can move. But it was the only one and slowly heads began to reappear and then most everybody starts laughing when they think of how fast they got undercover. One night the 1^st sergeant and I were listening to the radio when we heard a whistle. Having no prepared hole immediately available, we both hit a small ditch which wasn’t long enough. My usual speed put me in the ditch first, and he dove on top, laying behind me with his nose in my buttocks, which was humorous when the excitement was over.

Haven’t heard from Wylma for a long time. Could you find out what the score is?

I haven’t had enough to start another page so I’m going to the aid station to work a crossword puzzle.

Love,