Fourth of July Archives

Dearest Folks:

My letter writing is becoming atrocious but perhaps you have also had spells when you didn’t feel like writing or found so many other things to do that you neglected it. Well, I guess that’s my situation. On my pass last Sunday, the Fourth, I forgot all about the customary fireworks but had a good time dancing and loafing at the army recreation center. I believe it was one of the best days off that I spent since I’ve been here and the next time I hope to spend the day on the beach. I guess I told you about the places in a previous letter. Our open air theatre near our camp has been built up considerably. Until now we have night shows once a week at night that are usually put on by the USO or home talent. Although you might be a little abashed to sit through a movie I wished you could hear the cracks that come forth. From the picture I sent you, you can tell about what it used to look like. Tomorrow night we will have another show preceded by a little swing session by our band. The band is a part of the battery and I think they do a darn good job.

I haven’t heard from Dick since I returned but I guess it is up to me to write him a letter soon. I’m anxious to see the pictures we took and if they don’t turn out I’ll be very disappointed.

Tonight I think I’ll stay in and perhaps do a little more reading on my book that is plenty thick and will probably take me a long time to read. I hope you can find the ones I mentioned although you will probably have to do a little looking around. I very seldom work at night and I want to know as much when I get out of the army as when I came in, I hope.

Every time I see a newsreel on North Africa I think of Jim and wonder if possibly he is in some of the scenes. I suppose he was right in the thick of it and I hope he came out none the worse for it. It’s hard to imagine Halsey missing knowing him as I do and trying to picture him dead or a prisoner—I guess everyone experiences the same feeling, especially when the person is so well known and knowing his peculiarities. As for myself I don’t think the Allies will ever make an invasion of the continent as everyone thinks they will. The enemy has built up terrific defenses and the casualties and cost would be too high when they can either (be) bombed into submission or beaten from the Russian side. I would bet even money it will be a grand scale attack from the air and the Russian side but no invasion. I can’t see Japs whipped because of the big problems of supply and the new systems of communications that will be necessary before we can really begin to knock them off. I think it will be at least two years yet. I hope I’m way off on my opinions but I’m afraid the war with the Japs will be as long as the time the Germans have been fighting. Well, that’s enough on that.

I believe I’ve said enough for this letter. Maybe, too much, but I don’t feel unduly pessimistic about the future, because I really believe times will be better than ever when this is over. But unless somebody can formulate a lasting peace then we better quit now, and get ready for another one. I guess this is good night and don’t let what I have written make you feel gloomy or downhearted because I’m not myself. I know all will turn out the way we want it to and if you have the right kind of confidence it can never be shaken. I miss you all more than you can imagine.

Love,

Dear Folks:

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

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

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

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

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

Tell Quincy I’ll write her tomorrow.

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

Love,

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

7 July 1943

8 July 1942