Frustration Archives - Moss Letters

Dear Folks:

Had a letter from Mom today telling me about your Denver visit. Quite a bit different than when we went as a whole family and had the car loaded down with everything. I sure hope you had a good time. I know Dan Gettman had been sent to the hospital and was later evacuated but I didn’t know he was at Fitzsimmons. He got deaf from the guns. I wished you could have met him – he would have told you a lot about Okinawa and how I was. He used to take a leg off me, but I usually liked to listen.

I’ll bet the corn and watermelon are ripe at home. A National Geographic magazine found its way into our tent and it had an article about Nebraska with pictures of Scottsbluff and the Valley. It really got my interest.

It looks like I will be on my way [home] very soon although I can’t say for sure just when. These last days seem very long. How I would like to fly back, but I suppose it will be by boat.

I suppose Phil is on the high seas somewhere and I can imagine Carol is anxious but she shouldn’t be worried. One of the guys in my tent had a wedding anniversary a few days ago. Married six years and been home only two years to celebrate them. We drank a beer to commemorate it. Glad to hear Nancy was going to Denver. Yes, I can hear all the giggling that must have went on.

Bill E. told me in a letter of his [illegible] when he was overseas that someday he was going to marry Helen Wood – so I guess he will. Starting from scratch I think I better snatch a young co-ed at Lincoln.

And don’t bother with any Christmas boxes. I hope to eat apples on Halloween night with you or see the sugar mills begin their fall run.

When I get back I don’t want to see many people, just stick around the house and be a lazy bum. But I probably won’t for long. You don’t know the wonderful change it will be.

Of course the Japanese radio sounds much different than it did before. Begging the people to be fixing and build for a greater Japan. I could go to Japan if I wanted to but I just couldn’t do anything to keep me away from home any longer.

My last couple of letters probably sounded like I was a little peeved but it’s because everyday seems so long until I get started back. Don’t forget if you don’t hear from me for a week don’t write any longer. Also advise Reader’s Digest of my old and civilian address.

Love,

Dear Folks:

Had a nice batch of mail today so I better deserve it and try to answer some of it. Had a letter from Dad, one from Kate, one from Washington, and a letter from the University of Nebraska.

Well it appears that the war is over, and that it will be official today or tomorrow. I’m saving my last two bottles of beer for the celebration, and I can’t hold off much longer. The actual reality of the things hasn’t taken hold yet. Now I suppose you have figured that I should be home in a very short time, perhaps a month or so, but as a matter of fact it doesn’t appear that way. It seems that something always happens to delay it, and they have an excuse readily handy. Our outfit is always at the wrong place at the wrong time. For all I know we may be used for occupation forces and no telling how much longer a delay that will mean. If I’m not on my way in a month and a half I’ll start blowing up. It will be three years over here and four [years] away from home, and I’ve had about all I want. A lot of delays, red tape and excuses such as shipping and replacements is getting too common. This hot stinking Pacific and three years looking into oriental faces is too much. I guess what gets me started is the good deal the troops in Europe get, and their short stays overseas, and then in the Free Press today I see Capt. Fred Chambers, never overseas, in four years is back to Dorothy’s wedding. I feel like I could get roaring drunk tonight and poke somebody just to be doing it.

I better return to normal and discuss things more sensibly. Kate’s far between letters made an appearance today, but she didn’t have much to say. Said she was chasing Steve on her day off. I guess I better try to answer it tonight. In the letter from Washington she wants me to see her before heading home. In her letter she said ‘probably you’ll be on your way before you get this letter’. Golly if she only knew, but everybody’s like that I guess. The civilians think that whenever they hear an announcement over the radio it will just be a matter of weeks before it will take effect. They think you apply for furloughs, readjustment etc, but actually you just sit back and wait and hope and think.

One of Dad’s good letters came along too, I see you don’t know just what to do about the store and the company, and I can imagine how you feel. Dick and I thought you should stick with the company for a while yet. Dick shouldn’t be in the army too much longer and I bet he’d help you, and I would too for the time that I am home. Dick and I always talk over the humble beginnings of your store, and now we are proud as the devil of you. There are certainly lots of possibilities as you say. You seem to be doing very good, and Dick and I could hardly believe it. And what you say about the store is interesting, not boring.

Dick and I would both like you to send Nancy away for a while and let her have a good time. I know she must deserve it and I know how much I would have looked forward to it if I were her age. Better send her, it will do her good.

Yesterday afternoon I went to a hardball game and saw the XXIV Corps play Naha airfield, and the Corps won. It was the firsthand ball game I’d seen in a long time so I liked it. We had to sit in a broiling sun with our fannies on the ground so I’m a little sore today. And I’ve been playing a little softball today myself. Was playing second base and when trying to put a man out he charged me in the ribs and a couple of them are pretty sore tonight.

It is really hot, just knocks the sap out of you. Sweat all the time.

Well I think I’ll knock off and start on another letter. Censorship soon [will] be lifted now that the war is over, but I haven’t heard anything about it.

So long for now.

Love,

3 September 1945

17 August 1945