Furloughs Archives - Page 5 of 6

8 July 1942

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.

2 July 1942

Dear Folks:

To keep my mind off the heat and look a little more ambitious I’ll write you something of what’s been cooking. Well this is the third day we’ve been here but it seems like thirty days. Day before yesterday it was a hundred and fifteen and yesterday one (hundred) eighteen and it seems even hotter today without any breeze at all. The heat just seems to bounce off the ground into your face. Yesterday I was on KP and just about cooked trying to wash dishes and wipe off the sweat at the same time. We do get a little relief in the evening though. Two miles across the hills is an irrigation canal and a river so we usually hike over there to cool off a bit. Every night the bank looks like a bunch of flies on a piece of bacon. No bathing suits of course.

The latest rumor, seemingly well founded, is that we will get furloughs in August after we get out of this hell hole. I hope this is the straight dope and I’m inclined to think it is. Of course I’ll let you know if we get any definite word. That’s not very far off and will that be a treat. Come to think of it in two months I will have been almost a year without a furlough. We should be here in Yakima for only about four weeks if we pass our test, which this little excursion is intended for. If we don’t pass it and have to go through another month I believe I’ll go completely berserk. It’s almost impossible to stay out in the heat for any length of time. I’ve dispensed with all underwear except when I get a pass and wear my cotton uniform. If I’m not on duty Saturday or Sunday I’m going into Yakima and spend the afternoon of the fourth swimming and cooling off. It doesn’t seem possible that the fourth is so near. We get off from twelve noon Saturday until midnight Sunday nite, if we don’t get a damned alert, as they usually do over a holiday. Every nite the canteen tent looks like a bunch of ants going into their hill as the boys file in for a drink of beer or pop. Last night the battery next to us furnished free beer for the boys after they got in from the field. We get it for a dime a bottle, but it’s pretty weak.

One thing I sleep like a baby at nights, and this morning I didn’t even hear first call, as I usually do a half before time. The sun rises about five and most are dressed before reveille ever blows. I slept on the top of my bag in the raw till about one when it began to get chilly. It starts to get hot about six thirty and stays like that until nine or after.

We have good mail service here, as good as the Fort, so don’t worry about mail getting to me. I guess this is about all. We have good eats and a lot of fruit that appeals to me; cantaloupe, tomatoes, bananas, strawberries and a lot of salads.

Well so long for another time.

Love,

23 June 1942

Dear Folks:

I just wrote you last nite but another one won’t hurt and besides I got your last letter this afternoon.

Was surprised to hear that Dick was home. Thought he would go back sometime but not so soon. Hope he finds a good job soon.

Next Monday (June 29) we go to Yakima for intensive training and firing. It is about one (hundred) forty miles from here and over the high mountains past Mt. Rainier. They tell me it’s pretty hot over there, but we have our suntans so it won’t be as bad as the woolens. We will be there for at least a month so you can send me some cookies there. Suppose we will start using our sleeping bags again. It’s going to seem tough leaving these luxurious barracks but also good to get into the open again. During these operations we will have aircraft observations and dummy bombs of flour.

Still nothing on furloughs. Two of our men are on them but they are only for emergencies and the Red Cross makes a thorough investigation.

Payday will really be something this time with the fifty bucks. I haven’t heard anything about the two paydays a month, but I think it would be a good idea. Along with the raise in base pay was a special arrangement for dependents. For every $22 the soldier sends home the government adds $28 to it. This is mandatory for married men and only available for men with dependents. A pretty good deal. The $12.50 for my bonds will be taken out this month. As the bonds accumulate they will be sent to you.

Now to reread your letter and answer the questions. Yes I still go to church, there is a big brick chapel on the post. I use cream to shave with the lather type but with the tube stipulation, soap is alright. I’m well supplied with toilet articles but can always use razor blades, shaving cream, or face soap. The number of division is the Fortieth, the emblem of which is a yellow sun on a dark blue background.

Boy does it rain around here—wish Nebraska could get some of it. Guess that’s why I don’t mind it so much.

Tomorrow night the Camel Caravan is coming and if it’s as good as the one I saw at Roberts it is pretty good.

Guess I told you about my excursion in Seattle last Saturday.

I plumb forgot about Dan’s birthday but I must remember him someway—and sixteen too. That reminds me of the days that I was sporting a pout because I was too young to pedal a bike.

Well l am going to listen to Fibber McGee and Bob Hope so until next time.

Lots of love,

10 June 1942

Dear Folks:

Before another minute of eternity ticks through the March of time I better get caught up with you or you will think I have deserted or something.

Got the papers and your letter last week. Suppose you have both subsided from the excitement of the past and have got back into the groove. Katie wrote me a letter telling me all about it so I have a pretty good picture of what you did in Denver. Will she stay in Denver and go to school some more?

Because of the alert and the resulting confinement I have been unable to get out of camp to buy anything for her and I really want to get her something. Give me some suggestions. I sent her five dollars-hope it will ease my guilty conscience somewhat.

Today I signed an allotment whereby $12.50 will be deducted from my pay each month. For every $18.75 that I save you will receive a bond with a maturity value of $25.00. It will be mailed to you as I requested. This will amount to a savings of $200.00 a year, the maturity of the bonds. Instead of naming you or either of you as beneficiary I named Mother as co-owner, although it makes no difference. As a co-owner you are entitled to cash the bond at any time after 60 days. There will be no red tape or my signature. I thought this a better plan than a beneficiary, so that if by chance you are in need of the money you will have it. As you probably know we will get our raise of $50.000 this month. Also I intend to send home $10.00 in cash.

Got a letter from Dick telling me of his visit from Mary. Yes I think they are pretty dizzy over each other. He didn’t tell me how he felt but said Mary got sentimental when she left.

Summer seems to need plenty of coaxing to come into full bloom around here. For the past week it has been raining and blowing and no signs of the clouds going away. Expect to go to Yakima to the firing range in a couple of weeks and they say it is much warmer there. But I hope I will be transferred from this outfit before that.

All the time we were on the alert we had to carry our tin hats and gas all the time—even and while working and when the order came thru that it was discontinued we all threw up our arms in joy. Even most of the civilians entering camp had them. A guard here shot a woman–died last night when she failed to halt her car. So always stop if you are requested.

My little watch beats like a young heart and never fails me—and the zipper bag is like another hand.

Hope next time I will be home—I mean next year. Perhaps furloughs are still a slumbering image. Perhaps when I am transferred with the cadre I will be sent East. My application for commission in the Adjutant General’s department was denied in view of the numerous applications. Many of the fellows are having visitors—being from Spanish Fork, Utah. I am in a Mormon reserve, Utah battalion.

Suppose you heard or read about the sunken freighter near Seattle, but I’m telling you that when this big shore gets it’s steam up there will be death and destruction for Germany and Japan the likes of which have never been seen. Cologne will be ordinary and commonplace. Our air force will be so great and our ground forces so well supplied that it will be utter desolation for anything in our way. This is my prediction. No more ‘too little and too late’. We are waiting until we have a cinch and will have it.

Well guess I’ve made my philosophies and told you what’s what so there is little else.

Oh, for a bunk without brown blankets and a dinner from marvelous Mother Moss and a banking out from dime-dealing Dad.

Love,

22 May 1942

Dear Folks:

I know I ought to write to you tonite but I’m having a time conjuring a mood for the occasion. Anyway with time so abundant I better.

As I told you in my last letter I’m in the hospital with a case of mild infantigo but since I’ve been here it has almost cleared completely and I’m looking forward to getting my release someday next week. I shall have been in a week next Monday. I have been getting three pills about twice a day and the sore spots smeared with suphathyacol. One guy across the isle is from Brooklyn, has his ears painted purple and has his hair shaved off. He sports a typical accent but his purple ears cause the most comment. His most common moniker is ear muffs. He reminds me of the homeliest guy in the ‘Dead End Kids’.

Suppose by the time you get this letter you will have seen Katie (doesn’t he mean Nancy?) graduate and the end of one more struggle partly whipped. I would accept a few months in the guardhouse to see her for awhile. Suppose she looks as vivid and sparkling as ever. What should I present her for graduation? A little late but I’ll get her something.

Your last letter mailed the fourteenth never reached me until today the 22^nd.

There is still nothing on furloughs—nothing at all, not even a clue. Our officers know nothing about it so all we can do is wait until the announcement is given. How will this affect your California trip?

Got a letter from Gramma today pretty brief but general. She said she had another spell of high blood pressure, also that Dick could now work in Consolidated. Dick is pretty esoteric in everything and it’s hard to tell what he thinks.

Well I’ll write tomorrow in release from this letter so until then.

Love,

11 May 1942

Dear Folks:

Guess I haven’t written for about a week so better get at it.

When I got in today your picture was here and is it swell. I’m so glad you sent it. I can’t adequately tell you how much it will mean. Then yesterday Katie’s(photo) came so with these and the one of Dick, I have quite a gallery of good-looking kin. Katie is getting prettier all the time but since the last time I saw her, in about August ’40, I believe, she seems to look a little more mature and womanly. When exactly will she graduate? I’d sure like to see her badly. I feel like a terrible heel for not sending you something beside the telegram on your big day last Sunday,but then I thought that if you were coming out to see Gram or up here I would send you fifteen dollars for the trip. Suppose your back is badly bowed by the season of the year but it would be swell if you both could get away from it all.

I’m still in the dark as to furloughs—as a matter of fact haven’t even got wind of a good latrine rumor. Other fellows seem to get these but no dice in this outfit I guess.

Several troop trains have pulled out last week and even tonite a long one is standing on the tracks waiting to be loaded. The latest info from seat 5 is that we won’t be here for longer than a month, but then this is all rumor. Today we were on the rifle range firing plenty of ammo. I didn’t do as good as I have before—a 154 out of two hundred. Last week I started to attend survey school. About three men from each battery were chosen, this is the brain part of field artillery. Hope I go long enough to get some benefit from it.

Last Saturday afternoon got a thirty-six hour pass so Johnnie, my pal, and I went into Tacoma but came home fairly early for lack of anything to do. This guy Johnnie is really a swell fellow—a tough existence ever since he was born, living under a drunken Dad and keeping his mother. Plenty handsome, modest, and sincere. His qualities remind me of Jim Sandison, but Johnnie is much more handsome. Black curly hair and big friendly eyes. Wish I had a picture of him.

The recent sea battle was certainly good news wasn’t it? Hope we treat ‘em plenty rugged from now on. A bad note has been coming up lately and that is gas or chemical warfare. The use of that will increase the horror of war many times. I’d think Germany would be afraid to use it because of his own extinction.

Last week one day I was on regimental fatigue and was handed a shovel and dumped off on a coal pile. Boy did I get dirty but it was a good workout. We hauled it to the hospitals and to the homes of the brass boys (officers).

It’s still been raining off and on for the last week but a couple of days were really nice.

Well I’ve got to write some more letters so better get around to them.

Your picture will be my most valued possession.

Love,

The picture is a 155 mm howitzer of our battery.

28 April 1942

Dear Folks:

For some unexplicable reason I’m not much in the mood for writing but I better do it anyway.

Our tour finally terminated at Fort Lewis here in Washington—at least temporarily anyway. A large place accommodating ninety thousand men and set in a bunch of pine trees—very pretty but rainy. In fact it has rained practically all the time we’ve been here. But aside from the rain the sight of the barracks looked like a stream to a desert traveler. It seemed like old home week to sleep on a cot with springs, pull a sheet over you and go to the latrine all in one building. To eat in a mess hall and hang my clothes on a good rack and shave in a large mirror all rewarded the tiring trip. But one bad thing is the soot. The barracks and the mess halls burn a cheap coal and the chimneys lay down a heavy screen of dirt—especially in this damp weather. Gas would be a good thing here. The main part of the fort is pretty swanky with its red brick buildings and green lawns but our section is pretty drab. The rumor is that we will move next week to the new large barrack buildings. Today I was on divisional fatigue and was in the main fort cleaning a house where the general will live. You should have seen me cleaning woodwork and cleaning bathrooms. I never saw so many trucks—acres and acres and warehouses and all the rest connected with the operation of a place this size. Seattle, is about forty miles and Olympia about fifteen. Will have to see Seattle soon.

Hope you have sent my box by now. I’m waiting anxiously for it. By the way the address is changed again to:

Btry C, 222 FA Bn
APO 40, Fort Lewis, Washington

The package and your letters will reach me alright by the first address I sent though.

The nite we spent in Bend, Oregon was quite an experience. As soon as the churches and women knew we were coming they immediately broadcast a call for girls for a dance and other entertainment. It is a fairly small place about like Gering and when we landed there soldiers took over. We got free coffee and doughnuts and later a dance and the people were swell. But cold wow—the temperature went down to 20 degrees and when I got up at four in the morning frost was a half inch thick on my sleeping bag. I slept warm though even if it was on the ground in the open.

The next nite we stayed in Vancouver and of course it was raining and miserable. Got into town for awhile—also stood on the Columbia River bridge with one foot in Oregon and the other in Washington. Boy the country is pretty around here.

Tonite I went to a show to ease lying around and doing nothing. Also went last nite. I still believe we will be given furloughs soon, but for how long I don’t know. All kinds of rumors are out as to how long we will remain in this camp.

Well it’s fifteen until nine and still light outside. I can hardly believe it.

Enough for this time—probably I never mentioned a lot of things you are wondering about but I’ll take care of that next time.

Wish I was home.

Love,

21 April 1942

Dear Folks:

Well this will be my last letter from Escondido. Tomorrow morning we are pulling out for—I believe—Fort Lewis, Washington. The officers intimated it would be a long trip so I believe that is the place. It is around 1,500 miles and we make about 200 (miles) a day so it will be quite a ride. Of course I hate to leave the folks in San Diego behind—I will really miss them. We have been sleeping in pup tents the last two nites so of course it would have to rain continually and on top of that my tent leaked—adding to my consternation.

There seems to be a lot to write about but somehow I can’t think of it. There will be about 700 men in our convoy of seventy or eighty vehicles and they are plenty loaded down.

Gramma sent me a beautiful English made scard today—feels so good.

Hope you have recovered from the phone call—guess it leaves on a little shaken by the miracle of it. Wish I could call you every week.

My new address is:

Pvt. HG Moss
Btry C, 222nd FA Bn
APO 40, Los Angeles, California

You can send the box now—if you send it when you get this, it should hit me about right.

I’ll write you often to let you know everything.

I believe after we get there we may be given furloughs—let’s hope.

This is a pretty gential letter but I’ll have a lot of time to write on the way so you’ll be hearing from me again soon.

Lots of love,

16 April 1942

Dear Folks:

Time to write a few lines while everything is quiet after supper chow. Just got a letter from you that was put in the wrong slot in the mailbox.

Well, well-founded rumors are astir that we are moving out perhaps tonite or tomorrow. In fact all we have been doing today is loading and greasing trucks and getting our personal equipment in shape to pack quietly when the order comes. Where we are going is of course not known but the latrine rumor is to Los Angeles. Whether this is in preparation for something bigger I can only guess. The latest is that we may move after midnite tonite.

Tonite also we are having alittle battery party with talent supplied from our ranks to refreshments from the battery fund. Suppose we will have a lot of fun singing and horsing around.

I wrote Dick a few days ago asking him to come up so we could both talk to you on the phone. However if we move I’ll make the call, if possible, myself. I haven’t been down for three weeks now and would like to see them before we leave but perhaps this won’t be possible. The 19^th will also be the monthly anniversary of my army induction—seven months.

I am sending my mail free, but because I had a little supply of stamps thought I just as well use them for airmail.

Don’t know exactly when our $42.00 will be effective but will probably effect our pay on the first of June. I will send you $20.00 to use in coming out. Wish you could come on the train. I think Dick and I can arrange it that way. If we each donate $20.00 or so you could afford it then. It would be better for you than riding in a car.

Yes, even get to sleep late if we walk at nite—the usual tour is 4 hours on and 8 hours off. We haven’t heard anything about furloughs for our bunch and are not expecting any—at least I’m not. We took all of our shots in the arm and after about three they were nothing.

Right now I’m reading ‘Inside Europe’ and ‘The Green Lights’, but if we move won’t get to finish them and incidentally, I’m wondering how I can return them to the library.

Last Sunday I was on KP and while looking around the kitchen saw a carton of beef from Cook’s Packing Company in Scottsbluff. Kind of surprising.

I gave up my job as assistant battery clerk for lack of anything to do in there so now I’m in the communications detail. We string wire from gun phones to the switchboard to the observation point (OP). From the OP the CO (commanding officer) relays his firing data to the guns which go thru the switchboard hidden in the brush somewhere. It’s a pretty good assignment and more interesting than doing the cannoneer’s hop. Pulling two or three miles of wire by hand is a workhout. One of our trucks has a small gasoline engine for this purpose mounted on the back.

Well guess this is all this time. Will write you all I can about what’s going on.

Love,

19 January 1942

Dear folks:

I just mailed you a letter only this afternoon but thought I’d write another because you have some questions. If you could only see me writing this letter you’d be quite amused I believe. I’m in a tent as you know and it’s nite and we are using candles until lights are installed. There are five in our tent but only 3 of us are here. Two are cutting wood for the little inverted ice cream cone shaped stove we have and I’m sitting down leaning on my cot with a candle sitting atop a tent stake being used as a candleholder. The fellows in my tent are attached to headquarters battery which includes a lineman, an artillery mechanic, the bugler, a driver and myself, assistant battery clerk. So we hear the bugle plenty good and loud. Our schedule now is reveille at 5:55 and calestinics at six fifteen and breakfast at six forty five. It’s a little hard getting started some mornings but exercises loosen up the kinks.

Now to get around to your letter and go thru it as the questions come up. The first item is the sweater, yes, a nice sleeveless sweater would come in handy. Several of the fellows have them. Olive drab or khaki is the best color. The next is the mail, it’s all coming thru okay I believe. I got the two bucks, the Free Press regularly and other mail. All but the box. The boys in the tent say that as soon as you put in a claim on it they will dig it up pronto. I’m very disappointed. If they do get it here and it appears mutilated and rifled, I’ll turn it over to the post office here. Now comes around reading. The USO is plentifully supplied with all kinds of magazines but the Readers Digest is about the only one I read. Until we get lights in our tent I can’t do much but currently I’m reading ‘The Fight for Life’ by Paul DeKriuf. It’s plenty good and an eye-opener as to the prevalency of diseases. About three weeks ago I applied for a city library card but it had to be signed by a city property holder and with the constant prospect of moving in a hurry it’s a little risky. No, we’re not getting any leaves yet. Just today I applied for a twenty four hour leave to Coronado but I couldn’t even get by the first sergeant to see the battery commander. I called Grandma yesterday nite and I think they are coming up again Sunday. June always wants to know if there is anything I need. Yep, it might have been me calling you that nite, from taps ‘till reveille. I think about home and all the family.

I went to church yesterday and I could remember most of the prayers without using the book. After the service a lady turned around and shook hands and asked me if I was an Episcopalian and when I replied ‘all my life’ she said ‘I thought you were’. She asked me to join the choir.

I guess that’s all the questions. I really feel swell and getting heavier all the time. I took some pictures today of me climbing up the tent trying to put on the last joint of chimney and keep from sliding down at the same time. Hope they are good.

Well goodnite Mom and Dad and don’t feel too low. I want to go back to school all the more now but we’ll see how things come out.

Better send me your pictures so I can set them in front of me when I write.

Love,