Fears Archives - Moss Letters

29 July 1945

Dear Folks:

I’ve been taking it easy all day and so that the day won’t be completely wasted, I’ll top it off with a letter. Today is Sunday so this morning at eleven went to church. The chapel looks better all the time and now it is very attractive. Over the altar is a white ceiling of cloth that looks like it might be a parachute, and on the sides is blue silk cloth or rayon. The altar is lighted and has four candles on each side. Of course we don’t have the peacetime choirs but instead a speaker system plays hymn recordings and makes it seem much more like church.

I was just looking at your picture you sent me in 1942. Everyone thinks you look too young to be my folks.

Nothing new on getting home – just have to wait.

Plan to go to the show tonight and I hope there isn’t a flash red to interrupt it.

I’m plumb out of news so better call this enough for one more time.

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,

17 June 1945

Dear Folks:

Rather quiet this Sunday afternoon so I better grab hold of myself and get a few letters written. A few minutes ago I just returned from church services in the mess tent. The first we have had in three weeks due to the situation.

It is continuing (to) dry and today it is very warm but a slight breeze is blowing that makes it cool in the shade. Mosquitoes are bad at night but of course we all have nets and take Atabrine to curb malaria. Also planes spray the island often and it keeps the flies down to a minimum. They come soaring over very low letting out a white trail of insecticide.

Well, the Japs are now very compressed on the southern end of the island and I hear we have only about a mile to go – should be over in a couple of days. Our artillery has been sitting up a constant barrage. I suppose the Japs are about gone nuts now. Our sleeping tent is setting upwind of one of our gun batteries and every time they fire, the smoke blows down right over us, and it smells exactly like rotten egg gas, but we get used to it.

I’m still very fine and comparatively safe and little excitement has happened for me. All I’m afraid of is a Jap sneaking in at night, but we are well protected, so that isn’t much of a threat, just a possibility. About a week ago two of them tried to slip in the motor pool but the boys spotted them and fired at them. But they got away and before leaving dropped their packs, both full of grenades.

Just a second ago a guy brought me two letters, one from Dad and from Nancy. Nancy says she doubts if it rains as hard here as at home – well 13 inches in a week is a lot. Never saw it rain that much in Nebraska.

Now that things appear to be loosening up on getting home, I’m getting impatient. Between you and me I figure I’ll hit the September or October quota, but don’t bank too heavily on it. I just cannot imagine myself back with you and enjoying myself at home and being completely independent, at least for a while. But I feel certain I will see you this year and not as Nancy says, by the time she graduates – that’s much too far away.

No, I never get enough of your letters, dad as you say, to the contrary. I’m always watching the mail orderly and it’s very seldom I walk away from a mail call without anything. You do a good job of writing and I know it’s a big job writing to three of us but I hope soon that it will be cut to two, by me getting home.

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,

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,

24 May 1945

Dear Folks:

Not very fancy stationary but it’s the best I can find right now.

The ground is a quagmire again but today it was sunny so we had a chance to dry out. I think after taking a bath I’ll go work crosswords a while before bed.

Reports around today say the battle up front is coming pretty good now. I haven’t had it so bad since the Japs quit the shelling. I think the shells made me a little more nervous than I thought. Anyway you don’t need to worry about me – the worst part is over.

Had a letter from Phil today saying he was getting leave May 23^rd so he has probably been home and left again by the time you receive this. I think he is thinking about getting married and if he does, give him a present from me. Give him a hundred dollars, unless you can think of something better than the cash. You probably have better ideas on that. I don’t know how you feel about it, but I like the idea. How old is Carol?

Not much again but I want to shape up before dark so I better get going. Keep holding on. I feel sure I will get home this year.

Love,

22 May 1945

Dear folks:

Two letters from the home front today—one from each of you so that deserves a letter from me.

I see Mom tried to figure points and I knew you would. Yes, I have more than the required 85 and I hope it means something.

Reading a newspaper clipping today it says that over three hundred thousand are to be released from the Pacific this year. We heard a lot of stuff but it’s a little early to see how it will work, but I can’t help but feel that eventually something good will come of it. Dick gets 5 points for his Purple Heart. A few fellows left from the battalion this morning for a furlough in the states and they came around and shook hands and said goodbye. It’s quite an occasion. They had their choice of taking a furlough or waiting for rotation and decided on the former.

I just took a bath in that shower I described to you last night and right now I feel good. The Jap artillery has considerably slackened off and that helps my nerves very much.

Last night the Japanese pulled another of their fanatical bonzai attacks for an hour and a half. Our artillery and naval ships laid down an unending hail of shells. There was a constant distant rumble. Often the ships sitting offshore use tracers, and you can easily follow their trajectory as they go high in the air and lob into Jap territory. At the same time they attempted another landing, and you could see our ship’s lights and flares showing up the beach like daylight. Jap barges were barely discernible from where I was, and I understand not a one of them got to shore. The fighting on the south end of the island must be a classic example of the fury, the slaughter and devastation that erupts from war. They say Noba is completely leveled and the stench of the dead is nauseating. With some two hundred thousand civilians cramped in the little area you can imagine the suffering and death that must be everywhere.

But my own situation continues favorable and less dangerous. I am fortunate to be behind the lines. Once in a while some infantrymen come over to listen to our radio and I notice a surprising number have graying hair.

The last few nights I have found something to do. I’ve been working crossword puzzles. I go over to the aid station where they have lights, and the evening goes very fast that way. As a matter of fact time seems to slip by very fast. It seems like I no more than get started in the day, before it’s over.

The rain hasn’t been bad lately as a matter of fact the weather has been good, although tonight the sky looks like a storm may be brewing.

I’m sure you don’t reread my letters any more than I do yours. Every time I get a free moment I pull one out and read over and over the letter and reread some parts I like. But I know how anxious you are and I worry sometimes that you may worry too much, but I’m sure if we can all stick it out for 6 or 9 months longer, all will come out alright. I keep your mail and save it for Dick.

I know last Sunday was Mother’s Day and I hope very much that you received my V-mail card.

Well it’s beginning to get dusk and I better make up my bed and get this letter off. I have to make my bed a special way so that cold won’t leak in.

So much for this time.

Love,

4 May 1945

Dear folks:

Just received a letter from Dad this afternoon and before I do anything, I’m going to answer it. I’m about as happy as you were on receiving my letter on meeting Dick for I know the news would be good to you. Probably by now you have received my letter of a few days describing our afternoon visit. I know how anxious you become as you read the papers but it isn’t as bad as that for me. Last night was hectic and one I would like to forget. The Japs shelled us about all night and so I couldn’t sleep. Boy, that whistle is bad to hear. I’ve felt like sleeping all day but I want to be good and tired for tonight so maybe I can sleep through some of it. We sleep dug in and it’s as safe there as any place. I hope we soon have their artillery silenced.

Censorship has also allowed us to reveal a little about the Special Attack Corps or suicide Divers of the Japanese, those guys that make you pretty nervous when riding on a boat. This is about the only way they can hit anything. I have seen them crash dive ships and once saw a boat in our own convoy hit. That’s about the first thing we think of on a boat when we see a Jap plane. Some time ago I saw a little item in my paper that I picked up from Radio Tokyo. It said the 63 girls and a professor had cut off their fingers and with the bloody ends, prepared Jap flags. Later they were sent to pilots of the Suicide Corps who vowed they would wear them in their caps when diving into American ships. Kind of crazy huh?

As things look from day to day, both here and in Europe, I become more confident of returning home, so now I’m just praying I can preserve myself through this one and then hope my wishes materialize. Surely they must. Perhaps when I get home we can play some of the poker you mentioned—you know poker is a part of the Army. I’ve played very little myself but occasionally to avoid boredom I get in a little game.

Well, I think my foxhole colleagues and I plan to have a little home prepared snack from our recent stock received from the ‘old country’. The ledge on our foxhole is pretty well filled up with canned goods so will probably whip something up if it doesn’t get too hot.

Better stop about here for one more time.

Love,

28 April 1945

Dear Folks:

Here I am again as is usual at this time of evening. About the only diversion after chow is listening to the radio and that doesn’t always appeal, and listening to the tales from Tokyo gets irritating. This morning while gathering the news, for interest I turned on Shanghai and listened for a few minutes to a commentary on military affairs. Of course Shanghai is Jap controlled. This morning he discussed the members of the Special Attack Corps or what we call suicide divers. They harp on this Corps quite a lot. American naval and casualty losses that he gave sound like evangelistic exaggerations. Many remarks they make seem the work of a simple minded child.

I see by the bulletin board that censorship regulations here permitted more leniency in writing so I thought I would tell you about some personal experiences I’ve had. Last night started out quietly although the air raid siren sounded about sundown. After hearing a few artillery shells crunch some distance away, I managed to get asleep but woke up with a start around ten thirty by the thunder of anti-aircraft guns. Then I heard a plane swoop over pretty low so I sat up and peeked over the top of our foxhole. As I usually do I woke up my buddy. It seems better to have company at such times, although perhaps I sometimes get over excited. Whenever a Jap plane gets anywhere near, the sky fills up with red tracers and little dots of bursting shells. When I first woke up I saw a great burst of fire but I couldn’t tell just what it was. In most cases the planes don’t come too close to our position so it’s more of a sideshow for us. A round of applause always goes up when a Jap plane is hit – most of them burst into a ball of flames and crash. Finally the excitement died down and while trying to get to sleep again, the shrill shreik of a Jap shell whistled over and drove into the mud. It was a dud, thank goodness. The sound of shells heading your way, and the later bursting crunch so hard on my nerves and I think everyone feels that way. When a shell sounds it takes about 1/10 of a second for everyone to jump in a hole. But we found the Japs many times harder and it is a mystery to me that all Japs in the island are not raving maniacs. The bombardment on L-Day was the biggest and most devastating thing I ever saw. It is source of great confidence in our forces to see battleships, cruisers and destroyers lined up pounding the Japs where it hurts the most. The sky was filled with our aircraft and the Nips dared not come near. About the only time they can pull a raid is at night. I came ashore on L plus one and we were all surprised by the orderly cultivation and rolling green hills, by far more like our own, a civilized place than what we had previously seen. I think this [is] enough on this subject.

I told you before that I had been on Leyte but I didn’t’ tell you I was on Midway also.

Had two letters today – one from each of you, but not very recent. In Mom’s letter was many clippings and the pictures of Nancy and Phil. It seems to me that Nancy looks an image of Mom, and so grown-up I could hardly believe it.

I’m glad Jack paid you a visit and I hope it made you feel better. I also think he has changed for the better and Jack seemed very considerate during our visits on Saipan and Tinian.

Boy it seems like lots of babies are being born back there, Alice C. again and J. Lupher. How many does that make [of] Luphers? I wish I had some of my own and every time you write about fixing up the place, I try to hope that someday I’ll be fixing mine the same way. Dad made a lot of good comments about home and so forth and in every one of his letters, I think we get a little closer to each other.

The talk with everyone now is rotation – those planes are turning up again and I think most of the older fellows are expecting to get back in a few months. And somehow I feel the same way. Even the thought of getting home seems like a dream.

Better taper off I guess – I’m feeling fine and living careful, so don’t worry.

Love,

26 April 1945

Dear Dad:

It seemed such a treat to get your letter today that I thought I would address this one to you, even though you know it is for you both. Well a few minutes ago I finished typing the daily newssheet and have my lead arranged ready for the evening. Also for tonight we had a can of bacon leftover from our rations and I see my buddy has the stove out so we’ll probably have quite a treat tonight. That bacon in cans is very good stuff. This guy I bunk with I’ve known for a long time, and we have become close friends, although at times we use words on each other. He is from Kansas where his father has a large wheat and cattle ranch. He is very likeable and always cheerful, as a matter of fact he keeps my spirits up. He is married and I think I know about everything about his wife. His name is Cliff Blount just in case sometimes you may want to know.

On the island here there’s quite a number of horses and lately it has become the fad to get one of your own and ride him after supper. The battery looks more like a calvary outfit and often we have a short rodeo for a laugh. I did a little riding but I don’t go for it like some of these guys.

Your letter today was interesting and full of good comment. You are doing a good job and I know our absence has made both of us wiser and more appreciative although it worked more on me. I was glad you got my letter about being in Okinawa but know it will make you more anxious. It won’t last too long and then I’m sure we will have it easy for a while including shows and a little beer. Talking about horses and everything you probably can’t reconcile it with combat but there is the other side alright. About every evening the Japs start shelling and a shelling is nerve wracking but aside from the time one landed about 35 yards away, they haven’t been too close. Several men were only five or ten feet from the shell and came out unscratched so you can see the good of a foxhole. It doesn’t take you long to dig in. Haven’t seen Dick for a few days but hope he can stop by soon. He told me Diz Carroll had already had enough war. The reason the bonds sometimes arrive late is because they are sent only when we are paid and occasionally we can’t be paid every month.

I know you would like to see your business continued and especially to have one of us take. I know what it means to you regardless of what you say in your letters. I think we will keep it going and if Minatare can weather any decline after the war, I agree with you that it has many possibilities.

I think I wrote about Ernie Pyle’s death and it was a blow to everyone. Just when he was about to tell homefolks about the Pacific war. I’m sure the men in Europe will find the war here much different. No prisoners here, it’s dig them out and exterminate like cockroaches. I don’t mind if Mom puts my letter in the paper that I first wrote but I don’t think it is much of a letter. I was really not in a literary mood and could have made it much better.

Well it’s getting pretty dark and we are to do the bacon frying before dark so I better ring off for another time.

Love,