Eyeglasses Archives - Moss Letters

17 February 1945

Dear Folks:

What a pleasant day this has been. After I got through today there was a small package for me and of course it was the pen and pencil set. It is certainly a nice and beautiful set. I will have much use for it. I am always writing or doing paper work. You are a good shopper and it’s exactly what I wanted, and Schaeffer is my favorite brand.

Also had a letter from Pat and she always writes a long rambling one that is really good to read. She wants to send me something. And also received the October issue of Reader’s Digest. Things are gradually catching up with me. Perhaps all packages will arrive before long. And also had a letter from Mom. I think I’d have a hard time finding that fellow you mentioned, it’s quite a job to locate anyone and tougher to get around. And as he is in the Marine Air Corps, it would be harder yet. But you can never tell. Was glad to hear Gramp is better and especially that the pain has subsided. But I wonder what they will do now – probably wind up back in California. With all the Red Cross work you have, I imagine you will be very busy. But I guess all the Mosses are busy now. How different it must be now from what it was a few years back when the care and maintenance of your brood was more than a full job. I hope it will always be easy for both of you from now on.

It will be suppertime soon and after that will probably drink a beer and play a little cards. Perhaps there will be a show tonight. Got another shot yesterday and today the arm is a little tender. Tried to get a refraction at the hospital a few days ago but they were too busy. I have one pair but you can never tell when you might break them. Well this is all. I wrote this with the new pen – good stuff. Thank you many times.

Love,

10 February 1945

Dear Folks,

Better get a few lines off to you while I’m in the frame of mind. Received a letter from you today with the clipping about all the property changes at home. There must be a lot of money around there for so many changes.

There were a few questions you asked in your letter and I’ll answer them as far as I can. In the first place there are no furlough quotas and only emergency ones are granted. At my last station a quota was granted for a couple of months but since that time, there has been none. About the medical end. Yes, there are nurses on the island but they are in the big hospitals. Although you don’t get the pampering and personal attention of a civilian physician I think the care and treatment is good. A hospital is usually a row of tents and cots in it—but everything is in good order. As far as I know and from what little I can observe they have the best in everything. During the Saipan battle the conditions under which the doctors worked was terrible, but they worked in spite of it all. The scene of wounded was something not easy to forget and at first the sight of a dying man made me sick but I got over it. On this subject Monday I hope to get a refraction and have one pair of my glasses fixed. We get two pair and it’s very hard to get along without them so I always want an extra pair. They are a nuisance sometimes though.

And war news—yes we have a couple of big radios that pick up stations the world over—so we listen to the nightly broadcasts from ‘Frisco and other stations. Chungking China comes in strong here as well as Australia. You can listen to any languages you care to.

I wish I could set you straight on my outfit but guess that’s censorable.

I saw “Christmas Holiday” and I thought a lot of it—very good. Wanted to see “Going My Way” but missed it.

Better write Dick tonight so I’ll cut off. Am feeling fine.

Love,

10 March 1944

Dear Folks:

This is Saturday night, inspections are over, everything cleaned up and now we are spending a quiet evening. A few minutes ago finished a hotly contested bridge game but our side finally came out 30 better and fifty cents richer. Saturday nights usually mean a bridge game while the Hit Parade is going on. We hold the sessions in my room in the back of the billet and just made for such things. News is again slipping off to the leaner side at least as to what I feel I could write about. The office seems to keep up a pretty fast pace. Last week we undertook to do a GI remodeling job and now it looks pretty professional. Keeping account of the records of so many dogfaces runs into quite a lengthy job.

Dick called up last night and we had a drawn out conversation. We made arrangements to spend a weekend together and you can never tell when this may be the last one for along time so better take advantage of it. He seems always in good spirits and looks fine. But regardless of what he thought before, he misses home just as much as I do.

The mosquitoes are about as bad here as they are in Minatare. The billets are screened and we use nets at night but quite a few still bite while sitting around. You know that the day mosquito caused an epidemic of dengue fever for a while and parts of Honolulu were quarantined, and it may break out again if some precautions aren’t used. They say infected mosquitoes probably camp up on airplanes from the South Pacific and brought it here.

Received two pairs of GI glasses so have three now and fitted to the latest eye vision. These GI’s don’t look too good but they are certainly durable and can take a beating. I think my vision has gotten a little worse since I’ve been in but only a very little.

Had a letter from B. Emick a few days ago. I think he’s in another romantic tangle with that WREN in London. Wherever he goes I guess he always makes out with the womenfolk. Competition is terrific over here and I never get close enough to smell the powder on one. Well this isn’t what you could call a good letter but at least it will keep you informed and (a) little less anxious and I guess that’s a big part of it so goodnight for a little while.

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,

6 December 1943

Dear Folks:

I want to see ‘Yank at Eton’ at the show but first better answer yours and Nancy’s letters. I know from the tone of your letter that you are becoming very concerned, especially about Dick but I believe that if you could see him now as I have, you would feel that he would take good care of himself. I can understand your references to Dick’s pictures. They do work hard and undergo strenuous training but it’s all for their own good. I know that the Army is broadening him and making him aware of things he didn’t realize before. Next Sunday I hope to fly over and spend five days with him. This time we will get the pictures you wanted last time. Guess, I didn’t mention Thanksgiving in my letters. We had everything and plenty to eat. After dinner most of us took it pretty easy and don’t think I didn’t spend minutes thinking about home. I don’t think I thanked you enough for the box you sent. The chain was the perfect thing—as a matter of fact I had lost my GI one a few days before so yours came at the right time. When the rush is over I will send you some things. Tomorrow my pictures will be done and will send them right away. I think they are pretty good too. The pictures of Dan and Carol are extremely good and I couldn’t help but think how fast and how much they have grown. Yesterday, Sunday, spent a full day and saw a good show. Went to the local football game that compares to the game on Thanksgiving at home. Before the regular game, was a duel between two barefooted teams, and then a kicking exhibition barefooted. They can kick a ball sixty to seventy-five yards. Dan should see them. Then a small airplane landed on the football field and presented the captains of the teams with the ball for the game. Anyway, I had a good time and lots of fun looking at the people and watching the cheering sections. Haven’t written to B. Emick yet but guess I ought to. Well, believe this is about enough for this time. Had my eyes examined today for a new pair of glasses—reading so much evenings puts a strain on them but they are not bad at all. Plan to have a bridge put in for the tooth I lost and the dentist, a civilian, says it will be about $30.00 so might have to ask for some more money. Well let’s make this goodnight and don’t you worry.

Love,

29 October 1943

Dearest Folks:

This isn’t the best time to write a letter during the noon hour, but after reading the letter that I just got from you the urge possessed me so here goes. A good letter by the way, and a good (one) to use in answering. If you hadn’t reminded me probably I might have forgotten that you are having Indian summer – been a long time since I’ve been in a climate where the seasons change very much – at least it seems like a long time. And then regarding the item about hunting, pheasants are plentiful here too, but I haven’t seen anyone shooting them. It would be pretty dangerous I guess and maybe someone might think there was something the matter. But oddly it seems to me there aren’t many birds. Rat control is a considerable problem on the islands and perhaps they keep the bird population down.

And about the glasses – yes I still wear them most of the time. You know I busted my civilian pair on the boat coming over and of course all I have now is the GI’s that are a good pair and plenty serviceable. Reading quite a bit puts a strain on them sometimes and about a week ago a cyst started in the right eye but it healed off itself. I hope to have my eyes re-examined soon but the GI red tape always has to be cut first.

So Dick wrote about a Chinese girl too? There are white girls on the island but they are pretty scarce most of them having been evacuated after the blitz. A white girl at a dance is practically mobbed. And speaking about the blitz, it’s interesting to talk to some of the people especially the white ones, about the first days after the Japs hit Pearl Harbor. Suspicion and fears were everywhere and they had the life scared out of them. I wonder how all the Japs here would have reacted if Japan had taken over?

And next to the commando course. You should have seen me yesterday if you can’t imagine me as one. Yesterday we went through an Infiltration Course that involves crawling, and I really mean crawling, a hundred yards under machine gun fire and through holes with a little dynamite in them, besides crawling under barbed wire. The idea of bullets overhead didn’t worry me so much as the physical exertion to crawling. That doesn’t seem very far but oh boy it sure runs into work. A guy looks about like a rattlesnake worming along and we were so dirty when we finished it was hard to tell who was who. I felt a little funny once or twice when I saw a tracer bullet streak over but otherwise it was okeh. After this experience we went to the beach and bounced around the waves so that was some compensation for the dirt.

Well Mom and Dad since I’ve started this, evening has rolled around and now I’m about to take off for the show so better wind this up. The pictures enclosed are ones that I have taken over the past two months and maybe they will be interesting.

Love,

10 October 1942

Dearest Folks:

I don’t know how I’m going to fill two pages but at least I’m going to attempt it. I suspect the number one issue is the wedding. Received your letter before I did Katie’s about the event, so it wasn’t until tonight that I answered it. Things like this are inevitable, but now that they are coming into reality for some darn reason, I begin to get sentimental about it all. I wish Katie the very best and I hope their venture turns out with the same success as you and Dad enjoyed. All our squabbles and disagreements don’t strike me as something to be regretted, but rather as something that colored our lives and made the family circle binding and effective. Really regret (that) I can’t be there for the wedding and especially to put my arm around you when you begin to cry after the ceremony, and not least to meet Tommy and get in on the festivities.

I’m the same guy you kissed goodbye in [Camp] Stoneman. Was on pass yesterday and aside from a swim accomplished exactly nothing. Ate a casserole of steaks and sat in the USO building, squalling in the layroom tent now, listening to some football scores to the hit parade. Got my GI specs today—look like an insect with bulging eyes. Good glasses though. Another sheet would exhaust me.

Love,

17 August 1942

Dear Folks:

It’s getting pretty late and my vision has been reduced to almost zero from doing a lot of paperwork today but not enough so that I can’t still pound you out a letter. Just wrote about three tonight. I’m official mail orderly now and I am treated like a coddled child by doting parents. I am the only one who can handle it. Starting to get a little strict about it.

Well I went thru all the physical examinations okay so I guess I’m ready for anything. I was glad to hear the doctor say my teeth were sound. He prodded and hit around but said all fillings were okay. Have extra glasses ordered and today was requisitioned for much new equipment. Man they throw out anything if there is even a little defect in it.

Guess maybe I better fish out your letter and see what you said so we can get together on who wants to (do) what about what. I’d like to have been there to round out your happiness and made it a complete circle but the army holds the compass now. Daily or almost I have been writing in a little book about small things I think will hold the greatest enjoyment when Tojo goes down with the Sun. It’s an account of how I feel, thimble sized scribblings on peculiar or outstanding fellows in the outfit, what I think about, and what I look forward to and in general a complete account of the battery and what I think of it. It would be most revealing if anyone should read it. I want to keep it up and perhaps later group it into a more logical and chronological account. If we see action I should have plenty of opportunity for lengthy episodes.

In my letter to Dick I tried to impress upon him the privilege of going to college and I hope he won’t let me down. I know he has the stuff, odd as he may seem and I’m banking on him. I would have liked to have sat in on the bull session of Glen & Kate’s and exercised my belly a little on the reminiscin’ too. About the crests, or buttons, they are or were the official insignia of the battalion. Lately these were abolished for a newer design. The three items in the corner signify a war but I can’t think of them now. Of course the inscription at the bottom is self explanatory. I had three but gave one to the girls in Fort Lewis. We wear one on our cap and two on our blouse—but of course now all identifying marks have been taken away so thought I might as well send them to you. What do I do when I get a hole in my sock? Turn them in for a new pair, but they are good socks. Out of the original issue of six pairs last year, only one has been turned in for new ones. Guess that takes care of the letter.

Last Sunday got a pass so went to Frisco and Oakland but had little fun out of it. Unless you have someone to see on the outside, passes aren’t of much worth. Barrage balloons look like a circus man’s balloon bouquet over ‘Frisco.

There are certainly a lot of visitors that come to see the boys. Sunday cars were lined up like a county fair and people milling around waiting for their guy to come. They have a loudspeaker system that facilitates locating visitors for the soldiers. About a mile away is a little burg ‘bout the size of Mitchell and made up mostly of waps and Spaniards who work in the mills around (there). A few days we signed a slip saying we understood fully the consequences of desertion and AWOL; guess they can’t take any chances now.

I hope you keep up your moral and don’t worry about mine. I’m alright but I do a little worrying about you and know some of the anxiety you must feel but I got the best Uncle in the world taking care of me. Everybody else in the barracks is sleeping and I suspect that I better follow or this typewriter might wake them up. It’s funny the turn of events that take place in a man’s life. I always thought that wars were something that made reading in a history chapter and something apart from actuality, but here I am getting a bonus for working in a human slaughterhouse, with a lot overtime and no danger of being fired. Guess I shouldn’t write this way to you but the whole futility of it all starts me thinking. I could write all night upon it but that’s no good—not now. I don’t want you to worry because one good thing from this mess I will make the Buckingham Palace look like an Arkansas outhouse beside my home and folks. Memories are something man lives by and now and the six biggest all begin with an M.

Guess I’ve said enough tonight—what color do you like in Japanese kimonos?

Love,

6 August 1942

Dear Folks:

I’ve been pounding this machine like a cub journalist at a Democratic convention but now that things are quiet possibly I can use it for my own ends.

Well contrary to my expectations we are still here in Fort Lewis, but sitting on pins waiting for the day to leave. I didn’t think we would be here this long but we are and possibly we may be here for another week, but it surely won’t be long before we leave for ‘Frisco. By the way we have been advised to give our new address, so here it is, but it isn’t to be used until we change our station and I’ll let you know when we do:

Pvt. H G Moss 37086474
Btry. C 222 FA Bn.
APO 1288 % Postmaster
San Francisco, California

Got your telegram with the money and I really do appreciate it because I know what it means to you. Also got your airmail letter today. I hope you will feel free to use the money that I have allotted if you need it very bad. Someday soon now you should also be getting the bonds. As soon as we are overseas we are given a 20% increase in pay so I will have enough cash to get along on. Also if anything should happen to me the government makes a gratuity payment of six months wages which would amount to about three hundred sixty dollars. Things are still humming around here like an aircraft plane getting ready to leave and schedules have been made out for training on the boat so it can’t be far off. Yesterday I mailed my sleeping bag home and also rolled up in it is my sweatshirt, OD sweater and civilian shoes. Better give the bag to Dan for his long gone birthday—it would come in handy to use on all night camping trips and the like. It needs cleaning and there are a couple of small holes in it on the inside that can be easily mended.

Suppose you both had a little blue spell after the telephone call and I wasn’t any different. I guess the telephone is the next best thing to a furlough but I still didn’t say what I wanted to and like I wanted to. Mom you acted very bravely and you held the tears to a minimum.

The girl (Mattie) I have been going with on and off on the Post gave me a nice diary and a small book to use for memories and that sort of thing. She’s a swell gal but nothing to arouse my more tender instincts. She hated to see me leave though.

There isn’t much else to write about. I’m going to do a little laundry tonight so that all of it will always be clean then take a shower and hit the hay. About the glasses you mentioned—the government furnishes one pair of GI’s free of cost so that with my own I will have two pair. Also I am issued a pair of gas mask glasses. Got a letter from Katie yesterday and I answered it right away. Should also write a letter to Grandma although she hasn’t answered my last one. Took more shots today. They are getting to be like a cup of coffee for breakfast. You may not hear from me for sometime after we leave Fort Lewis, because I understand all of our mail is held up until after we arrive at our destination so don’t think it is my neglect. Also we are supposed to leave a couple of postcards in Frisco that will be mailed you when the convoy arrives.

I’m going to hate to go because it will mean such a long way from home and for as long as I’ve been away it will seem all the farther, but then we’ll just have to do what you said and hope for a quick end to it all.

Well goodbye for another letter. Minatare would look like Shangri-la in springtime right now even if maybe it is just a whistle stop. Don’t worry about me, that’s what the government is doing, and I’ll yet be making you pick up my scattered clothes.

Love,

29 July 1942

Dear Folks:

Well back in Lewis again and it seems good-very good, but we won’t be here for long.

Among two important things to come in this letter the first is that those elusive things called furloughs are definitely out. So make no plans on that count or any count. Next is I’m going overseas soon perhaps next week. I believe it will be a long trip for our CO said we were drawing canned rations for one hundred days. Incidental to this has been inspections and cleaning of material and loading trucks. All day has been a fast one, checking all equipment and turning some in and getting some. Most of our shots will be taken over, and I must have my eyes examined so I can secure extra pairs. I will send my sleeping bag home. We even had to go thru our billfolds and obliterate any identifying printing. Suppose it will be like this till we leave.

I can imagine how you will feel when you first know but we’ll just make the most of it and hope it’s over soon. Most of us feel low not getting any leave at all and I’m foremost among them. I’ll send you letters steadily and let you have my new address as soon as possible. I’ll be expecting a stream of letters now and some pictures once in a while—they will be everything. Your letters will not bear any foreign address but will go to an APO in San Francisco. Suppose I won’t be able to say much but enough to let you know about me.

If you want me to call, you can wire me for the date.

Now you keep your mugs in the breeze Mom and Dad and I’ll bring back some sweet trophies. Nothing will happen to me. I’ll write very soon again.

Always,