Katie Moss Creal Archives

17 August 1945

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,

12 September 1944

Dear Folks:

The mail boat came through today and I rated five – not a bad take. Mom’s two letters were full of quite a bit of interesting stuff and I thought they deserved an early answer so here I go. Also got the pictures of Stevie – boy he looks like a real jewel and you don’t know how much I would like to see him. I had wished that Katie would have been in one of them but maybe I can get one of her later. It’s no wonder you are so proud of Stevie and I’ll (bet) he’s created the biggest stir in the household since our last baby – I mean yours. Well guess I’ll take out your letters and use them to get some ideas. First I’ll write about Dick. I first heard he had been injured when a fellow from our outfit came from Saipan and said he saw Dick there. I didn’t know how bad he was hurt so immediately made arrangements to get over (there). When I saw him he looked good and was having life easy on a cot with sheets – white ones too. He told me what had happened and made me promise I would write nothing about it to you. He was afraid you would become unduly worried and no matter how much we would try to say it was only light injury, you would still be very upset. So I said okeh although I thought we should tell you. He was hurt while rounding up groups of snipers still holding out in the limestone caves on the northern end of the island. His group suffered heavily and he was lucky to get out. He was caught and forced to hug the ground for two hours while they got him out. Of course there’s a lot more to it, but someday he’ll be able to tell you – if he will. You wondered where he got hit. He had pieces in his feet, his legs and two in his back, and also well er—he got a piece that missed his private parts by a fraction of an inch. He laughed about that, and joked about what might have happened. You can imagine. And oh yes, they have American nurses – quite a few of them. The day I visited Dick it was rainy and muddy and they were running around in slacks and GI shoes, more like doughboys than women. They were the first white women I’d seen since leaving Oahu. Also at the hospital they have Chamorro girls working. They are very shy and modest, but soon pick up some common GI slang.

I sent the souvenirs home about the 6^th or 7^th of August but I think I told you about that. I insured them, so if the box don’t break up you’ll probably get them alright.

I don’t hardly know what to say about the Christmas deal, but you know since I’ve been here what I’ve missed quite a bit is fruit juices. So put in a couple cans of tomato juice, some orange juice, and something like that. Also any other canned treats that you think I might like – maybe chicken, olives. Right now I’d give a fortune for some of that stuff. And I would like to have you buy Dick a watch like mine with my compliments – I’m afraid his would break up with what he has to do, and one like I have would be just the thing. I would also like to have a birthstone ring, and a couple of watch straps – they go fast in this damp climate. And rather oddly maybe some pictures of home from the outside and some inside ones too if you can get them. I always wonder how the different rooms must look now. A cigarette lighter that will work in the wind with some flints would be a good thing. I know they are hard to get but perhaps you might run across one. A couple of good card decks. And here’s one—some licorice. This must sound like the flimsical whims that come over pregnant women but I would be glad to get any one of them. And also stick in a law book. Gram got my last one from a publishing company in Minnesota – I wish I could give you the exact name but I can’t think of it. I want one on Torts. You know I sure miss the books I left behind but they would be badly beat up if I had brought them along. I get so impatient for the war to get over so that I can get in a position where I can study it for good. I’m going to get Dick by the ears and if nothing unforeseen comes along we’re both going back to the University and take advantage of the tuition and expenses deal. The two of us would be eligible for $118 a month and we could get along famously on that. That would be considerably better than my first year I spent there although it was a year I wouldn’t have missed. I think Dick would be glad to do it.

I wished you and Dad would have stayed in Denver and had a good time and I’ll bet the telegram changed your plans. When I get back we’ll go away for about a month into the mountains and be the damndest laziest people you ever saw. It’s always been one of my wants to take you two someplace where there wouldn’t be anyone to bother you.

Well Mom I think I’ve answered all the questions I can. You know I guess I’m a screwball but I miss my fiddle and when I hear some good music on the radio wish I could pick it up and piddle around with it. But I can never listen to any good classical music because everyone else wants swing. The office has been humming despite our field conditions, and it would certainly be a relief to be able to get away for a while.

One thing I did overlook. Word flashed around partially rumor and partially fact that the army was developing a point system whereby the ones with the most points would be released first – after the defeat of Germany. It works on the plan of service, overseas service, dependents, and medals with so many points for each. Lately it has become as socially important to know how many points you have as it is to wear shoes. It is the high ranking subject around here, as it must be in all outfits but I can’t see myself being released until it is over.

I started to finish once and maybe I will this time. Jack showed me a clipping of the letters in the Free Press and I didn’t think they were so long. Jack sent you some pictures of us that are pretty good and I’m fortunate to be near him.

I guess this is the final act but I won’t say goodnight or goodbye this time, just lots of love and a toast to a quick end of this mess.

Love,

7 September 1944

Dear Folks:

Now if I had a cigar I would be enjoying a truly pleasant summer evening. Beside me I have two cans of Regal Pale Beer, and their presence probably makes this the biggest day since D-Day. It was our first issue and consisted of three cans to last four days. It was the first I have seen or smelled in four and a half months. After each few lines I smack my lips like a well fed dog and sit back in great satisfaction. But this wasn’t all that made today memorable. Most of this business affords little cause for celebration but occasionally something comes along to make things seem brighter and build you up for a while longer. For the past three weeks our mail had, for some reason, been held up and we had nary a single communiqué from the home front, and yesterday it came rushing in. My own take was twelve although my stable mate who is married with a child rated forty-six of them. Among them was a letter from Mrs. Dick, one from Mark Gardner (whom I went to school with in Lincoln), Glen, Bill, Gram, and Kate along with three from you two. The one from Mrs. Dick was especially well written and her last paragraph was a treasure. I wish I could quote it to you. She wanted me to tell you that I had received it, so whenever you get down that way, give her the word. (At this point I open my second can of beer).

Yesterday I finally got around to packing the souvenirs and getting them sent. First each item had to be stamped by the Joint Intelligence then the box had to be passed by the local censor. You will probably wonder what is coming off when you get it. It’s a big box and is pretty heavy. In it is a Jap sword which is a highly prized souvenir and commands quite a price. Other items are a belt on which the sword is worn, a Jap battle flag, and a bayonet with scabbard and belt. I was with Dick when he found the sword and the other items he got himself. I sent it yesterday the 6^th of August (I think he meant September) and insured it for $150. Dick was especially anxious that I got them sent okeh.

I felt quite honored at the compliments about my descriptive letter about Saipan. The fellows in the office told me about the same thing that you wrote and when I was writing it wondered what in the heck I was putting in it and what was there to write about. I let Dick read part of it and he said ‘Gee whiz you writin’ all that?’ and then he shook his head quite characteristically.

The paper enclosed is a mainland issue of the Dispatch as you can see – I thought you might be interested. A few points that aren’t often written about that the folks back home wonder about. Yesterday I was quite domestic – ran off a batch of laundry and ruined the King’s English saying this was a woman’s job. Hung it up to dry later and then it rained and soaked them good. I should of got married when I was at home. I read the little article about the veterans plan at the University and want to take advantage of it if I’m not ‘retained’ too long. But then I have a lot of ideas as to what I’m going to do when this is over, among others – getting married, seeing some more of the world, a job, and the highest priority right now, getting back to school. I’d work like a son-of-a-gun at it if I could get back. No more fooling around. Well it’s getting late sunset (the prettiest I’ve seen) and the electricity ain’t so I’ve got to put the cover on this thing and take a bath. I had intended to write more tonight but it’s just getting too dark to see so here’s adios for this time.

Love,

Attached with the Letter: An article from the Saipan Post Dispatch, August 10, 1944

THE SAIPAN POST DISPATCHA Newspaper for Enlisted Men

Published by Army Garrison Force

Vol. I No. 41 (Mainland Issue) Saipan, M.I. Thursday, August 10,1944

EDITOR: This issue of the Saipan Post Dispatch has been prepared for the folks at home. Today’s issue contains in capsule from an historical resume of the Marianas. Certain portions of the masthead have been deleted to meet censorship requirements; subsequently daily issues of this paper are not to be mailed until further notice.

SAIPAN: The Marianas, of which Saipan was the capital, form a chain of 14 islands and one group of three small islands. All are of volcanic origin. They constitute together with the Marshall, Caroline and Gilbert Islands, the insular area of the Pacific known as Micronesia. The four principal islands of the Marianas are Saipan, Guam, Tinian and Rota. It is believed that the Marianas were originally people by the migration wave from Indonesia which settled in the rest of Micronesia, namely the Caroline, Marshall and Gilbert Islands. There are many resemblances between the Micronesians and the Polynesians. The latter settled in the remoter parts of the Pacific and differ in language and culture. In the Marianas, the Chamorros, of all the various Micronesian peoples, strongly resemble in physique, culture and language, the inhabitants of the Philippines and the Dutch West Indies.

In December 1520, Magellan with three ships sailed into the Pacific, and on March 6, 1521 discovered the islands of Guam, Rota, Saipan and Tinian. Eltano, Magellan’s subaltern, revisited Rota in 1524. The Spanish explorer, Leaisa, reached Guam in 1526. Admiral Logaspi landed on Saipan in 1564 and proclaimed sovereignty over the Marianas. Quiros, another Spanish explorer, reached Saipan in 1596. In 1668, Spain dispatched soldiers and missionaries to bring the Marianas under Spanish Control. The islands were then named the Marianas in honor of Queen Maria Ana, widow of Philip IV of Spain, by the Jesuit missionary, Diego Luis de Sanvitores, who arrived in Guam from the Philippines. The Spaniards ruled until 1898 when the American cruise ship Charleston, commanded by Captain Henry Glass, steamed into the harbor at Guam and opened fire upon Fort Santa Cruz. Through its capture, Guam was separated from the rest of the Marianas. In 1899, the Germans purchased the Marianas from the Spanish for $4,500,000 and ruled them, Guam accepted, until 1914. In October 1914, a Japanese naval squadron took possession of the German Marianas Islands. The principal objective of the Spanish administration was religious proselytism; the Germans wanted commercial expansion; the primary ends of Japanese policy were political and military. Great Britain by secret agreement in March 1917, recognized the claims of Japan to all former German possessions in the Pacific north of the equator. The approval of Franco and Russia was obtained by Japan. At Versailles, American pressure was appeased by the origin of the Class C Mandate which differed from outright annexation only by imposing on the mandatory power a number of obligations. The Marianas attracted little attention until 1932 when rumors gained currency that Japan was fortifying Truk and several other islands. Japan denied this and when she withdrew from the League of Nations in March 1935, most American jurists opined that she should forfeit her mandate and the islands revert to the League. Japan, however, kept the mandated territory, defining it as “an integral part of the Japanese empire.” After 1938, when Japan discontinued the submission of an annual report to the League, all pretense of international supervision vanished, and the islands were increasingly treated as a closed military area.

The native Chamorros at one time were skilled navigators and canoe builders; when into-island commerce was suppressed by the Spaniards, the Chamorros lost their skill and never regained it. The Carolinians were expert navigators and when they were allowed to settle on Saipan during the nineteenth century, the Spanish government, which had practically no means of transportation at its disposal, stipulated that the Carolinian settlers should make an annual voyage to Guam via Tinian carrying the produce of the region.

Saipan was colonized by Captain Brown, an American, between 1810 and 1815. Brown brought along several Americans and a few families of Hawaiians intending to set up a colony to trade with the whalers. Spaniards snuffed out this enterprise in 1815. Whalers visited the Marianas from 1825 until 1850, but their appearance had little effect upon the economy of the Marianas. In 1869, an Irishman named Johnson leased Tinian and did a prolific business in cattle and pigs until 1875.

The native Chamorros who numbered between 70,000 and 100,000 in the 1650 period have decreased through war, famine and disease to a little over 5,000 in the entire Marianas today. An infusion of Filipino and Spanish blood helped to save the Chamorros from extermination. Even the mixed group, which is now dominant, when added to the full-blooded Chamorro population does not exceed the 5,000 total. The trend created by the Spanish conquest virtually depopulated the natives of the Marianas. Severe epidemics of smallpox, measles, whooping cough, and scarlet fever, introduced mainly by visiting whalers, ran rampant through the Marianas and served to offset the natural population increase.

SAIPAN SHORTS:

….Tinian has been conquered. The expected banzai never developed.

.…The first motion picture show for American Troops on Tinian was held July 31^st. Several thousand yards forward death stalked friend and foe.

.…The superman halo attached to the hips in the early days has disappeared. The burial of over 22,000 Japanese soldiers on Saipan brought home to Tokyo factual evidence of American power in the Pacific. The fanatic fight of the Japs to sudden death makes the war in the Pacific one of the bloodiest in the annals of American history. On Saipan, American casualties were over 15,000.

….Over 50 movie spots are operated on Saipan; some daily, others periodically. The Garrison Theater has a potential capacity of 7,500 two-high sandbag seats facing a raised screen in front of which is a regulation boxing area. This arena when completed will feature boxing bouts between Army, Navy and Marine pugilists. It will also be used by chaplains for religious services. Temporary staging will be added when “live” shows arrive on Saipan. The island will be dotted with theaters constructed similarly.

….The 100-minute rainfall last night failed to dislodge 5,500 Garrisoin Theater patrons. It seems that nothing short of an earthquake will discourage the crowds that attend the outdoor movies every night.

…..Chamorron, Korean and Japanese youths between the ages of 8 and 15 are given calisthenics daily.

..…A Jesuit missionary and 6 nuns escaped to the civilian camp a few days before Saipan’s fall.

….The Chamorro baseball team at the civilian camp has already trimmed an Army and Navy team. Baseball scouts should include this spot in their ivory hunting itinerary.

…..One word every Chamorro boy and girl knows is “okay” and they use it habitually.

…..The communication miracle wired throughout the entire island is colossal enough to secure a bow from AT&T.

…..The Engineers have received many commendations, including one from the Navy.

….The Signal Corps Repair Shop has done an outstanding job in the maintenance of motion picture equipment. They have gone out of their way on innumerable occasions to render technical advice and labor in order that “the show might go on”.

….The record of medical units on Saipan stands out in bold relief. During the changeover from foxhole operations to permanent hospital facilities, with American nurses, they have written a new epoch in medical history. The dispatch with which these units handled casualties in the bloodiest battle in the annals of American warfare reflects the extraordinary ability and skill of these responsible for its organization and operation.

….Congratulations to Connie Mack on his 50^th anniversary in baseball.

….The Saipan Post Dispatch dedicates this issue to the St. Louis Post Dispatch as full payment for usurping part of their famous name and incorporating it into the masthead of the First American daily on Saipan, which as been published since July 1 (1944?). If we can approach in excellence the distant shadows cast from Pulitzer’s bulwark of news reporting, then Ralph Coghlan, Fitzpatrick, etc., can rest assured that the traditions of their perennial sheet will not be ravaged by a mimeographed upstart on bloody Saipan. We salute the St. Louis Muny Opera, Jack Shumacker’s famous turtle soup, Phil Hitchcock, Larry Goodwin’s St. Charles St. Lounge, Luke Sewell’s Browns, Cardinals, Ruggori’ Steak House where the late O. O. McIntyre dined, Parkview Hotel, Coronado, Anheuser-Busch, Griesedieck, Hyde Park, Alpen Brau, Falstaff, the Star-Times and Globe Democrat.

….The next issue will be dedicated to New York City

25 January 1944

Dear Folks:

I’m so far behind in my writing that I hardly know what to write to start off. Recently I’ve had a change of station and that has meant a lot to do and little time to do it in. I suppose you have been wondering what has happened and maybe worried a little, but as a matter of fact I think this place is a better deal than before. Now I am where I can see Dick pretty often and call him up once in a while. Last Saturday I called him to make arrangements on a pass day, so Sunday morning he came around and we went to town and spent a civilian Sunday walking around the beach and looking at fish in the aquarium. He’s looking good and seems a little more talkative and lively than ever before. We heard a good band in the afternoon – Claude Thornhill. We talked about a lot of things and one of them was Phil. From what he told me there’s a little difficulty some place and I’m a little worried about him. I can imagine what you feel and know you wonder what to do about it. Also in Kate’s letter she mentioned it but made me promise that I would say nothing to you. I would be sick too if he should quit school to do what he has in mind, and I would do everything to keep him from it. Fellows on the outside see only one side of this military life and never hear of the other. I wish I was around to help you out. My spirits will drop a good deal if I hear that he has quit and taken the other road. I hope it isn’t as bad as I fear.

Around the lighter side – I have a new APO number now 958 and I’m on Oahu. Having visited here twice before on pass I was broke in a little and knew a little what to expect. The big city is a cauldron of fast moving traffic and big crowds of people hurrying to get someplace. With the…..cut out by the censor. Every bar, theater and café has a line in front of it with people waiting a long time for a little service, and it’s hard to escape the crowds no matter where you go. It’s hard to imagine that there was a time when everything was plentiful and all you had to have was the dough. But with all this activity we were moved into a quiet secluded cool spot that makes me forget once in a while that there is a war going on. This would be the spot for you Mom with the big trees and numberless shrubs everywhere. Adjacent to our area is a large open lawn space with a baseball diamond and volleyball court. Each afternoon we put in a couple of hours at volleyball and absorb a little sunshine. Yesterday while we were out the ‘Mars’ – the new flying boat that recently flew to Brazil and back – flew very low overhead and gave us a real idea of just how big it really is.

I did receive the packages from Colson’s and Carroll’s and I will answer them with a little letter if I can first find time to answer my ’must’ correspondence.

Tonight the open air theatre the local USO put on a variety act affair that to me was very boring and corny. The big part of it was hula dancing and that’s pretty tiresome by now. But there were girls in it so we had to go. Mentioning the Carroll’s, another change has taken place with Shirley now taken out of circulation. So she married a soljer? I hope she got out of the usual Carroll rut and picked someone with a little better prospects. Duane is pretty lucky to stay in the States and been near his wife and get home once in a while. If I am here much longer when people ask me…..(cut out by the censor) where I am from I will say the Hawaiian Islands, and strolling around the better sections of the big city that idea doesn’t sound bad.

You have been doing a good job of writing – all of you – and I especially liked your commentary on the Christmas holiday. I could visualize the whole affair and know having Stevie and Kate and Tom with you must have made the celebration especially happy. You can’t imagine how much Dick and I would have given to have been with you, and when we get back to the next (Christmas) it will have more meaning than any before. Everything I did as a kid and in school and later in Lincoln seems like a short dream I had last night after eating too much before going to bed.

I have the books with me after carefully packing them for the trip and I try to find time to study every day and I hope in the near future I can put things on somewhat of a schedule. Being here perhaps I can get a taste of things more urban. This month there is a symphony concert of 65 pieces and I want to hear it so darn bad. My experience with the Nebraska symphony is now a most valued experience and a cherished memory. The University of Hawaii is also here but probably I can’t do anything about that. Well I think I’ve said my speil for tonight and I hope you will forgive me for not answering as I should. Watch Phil and I hope everything works out to a happy solution. I’m glad you liked the picture – I thought it was pretty good too. Well goodnight – the time seems endless before I will be home.

Love,

Mom:

Advise Reader’s Digest of my change of address

31 December 1943

Dear Dad:

I guess if I owe anybody a letter it is certainly you. You write often but I never answer them as I should. It’s pretty quiet tonight and everything else is done. We’re sitting around listening to the radio this New Year’s Eve, not doing much. We won’t do any celebrating with blackout and taps at ten. I was just looking at the pictures Kate sent me and then thought how swell it would be to see Steve and all of us enjoying him together. It seems I’ve been gone so long I have to pinch myself to make sure things like that are still back there. Some of the things I look back on seem like a dream the morning after. You can’t imagine how much I think about the first few minutes when we will see each other again. Bet I’d have to have a towel for my eyes. Maybe I better get around to the brighter and newsier side of things. This afternoon went into town to do a little shopping. Tried to find some picture frames but no luck. I must have looked like mom nosing around the Kress Store.

Some of the fellows have gone to the New Year’s Dance but the competition is to stiff for me. Probably won’t be many white ones there anyway. Seeing so many ‘tanned’ ones will make all of them at home, good-looking.

Well dad, it seems there should be much to write about and make a man-to-man talk out of this but it seems the words aren’t here although the thoughts would fill many pages. I hope 1944 brings us very near the end. I don’t feel much anxiety about my own welfare although I admit I sometimes worry about Dick. Certainly I don’t foresee a furlough.

The pictures were taken in the office. Maybe they will give you some idea of the place I work in. It’s usually a pretty busy place and maybe it doesn’t look too tidy.

I’m going to call this ‘pau’ for this time. I really enjoy your letters and you put in the kind of news I like to hear. Hope I do a better job of writing (next year).

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,

5 November 1943

Dearest Folks:

I have plenty to do tonight, tomorrow is inspection, shining shoes, clean the rifle etc. but better take time out to drop you a line or two. I’m in good spirits today and once more got a boost in my morale. The cause for this good feeling is that I got a promotion today to staff sergeant and a corresponding increase in pay which makes it a hundred fifteen per (month) now, so guess I better increase my allotment a little. Of course it’s good to get the new rank and will mean a few more privileges. I hope that now I can cut the mustard and get the other stripe that my job calls for.

I’m wondering how Gramp is coming along and how the operation turned out. Gram wrote me a short letter and from the tone of it she sounds like she’s about whipped. I can’t imagine anything happening to gramp and it would be especially sorrowing at a time like this. I’d like to see him so bad and try to cheer him up a little.

Among the other things that I do in my job I occasionally go out to investigate court martial charges and tomorrow morning early means another such assignment. Remember the days I used to walk over to Mrs. Dick’s and sweat over some shorthand? Well it seems to be of some good now although I mostly use a combination of longhand and the other that makes a script that nobody but myself could read. Running somewhat into what I am studying I like the job although sometimes I swear I can never write down all they say but somehow things seem to work out. Last week we investigated a case that involved a Japanese storekeeper and he talked like a whirlwind and had the usual accent and I thought several times I was hopelessly lost. But it’s always interesting and breaks up the monotony of the routine. The fact that I know a little shorthand is the reason for my transfer to this battery some time ago so it seems that the few bucks I put out didn’t go to naught. If Mrs. Dick could see my notebook she’d probably tear her hair out though.

I just remembered your writing about Dan Gettman and the Star-Heralds he gives me. He is the one boy that I know from Nebraska and I used to be in the same outfit with him. I knew him well and Danny and I would often talk about things in common that we knew about the valley. Since I was transferred I don’t see him very often and occasionally I talk to him in town or whenever I get down to his battery. He is the usual Russian stock like is in the valley but he’s a pretty good little guy. A couple of weeks ago he sent me a stack that was as big around as my waist.

And another little item about the bank deposit box. I had forgotten completely about it and as I don’t need the use of it any longer you can dispose of it as you want to.

Katie sent me one of the announcements—the little one with the automobile motif—it was pretty cute and all the guys in the billet thought it was clever although they didn’t get the drift right at first.

Well I’m coming to the last act I believe, so here comes the curtain. I intend to write to B. Emick but somehow I don’t get around to it. Also had a letter from Mrs. Lewellen yesterday so there’s another to answer. Jack is lucky being in the Navy and getting a chance to get home. Well goodnite for another time and one less toward the end of the way.

Love,

8 October 1943

Dear Folks:

First off I am in receipt of the letter about Stephen and besides being a big relief I’m sort of proud of my new title of uncle. I hope Katie gets along alright and the baby gets fatter and louder. Well, being away at a time like this is another good reason for my hating the Japs. I can’t very well imagine Katie with a baby in her arms and now I’m the more curious to see Tom.

And secondly (I have to enumerate the things I’m going to say in my mind) our battery stepped out to a dance last night. It was the second such battery dance since I’ve been here and this one was a big success. The boys spent a lot of time getting the hall ready and taking care of miscellaneous ends and they did a great job. And the biggest problem, the matter of getting enough girls, was even solved successfully. I ran into three Chinese girls whose names were Miss Chan, Chang and Ching (to give you an idea of the company I was in). I had a swell time besides eating cake and drinking coke all night.

Now that I have covered these few points I was going to write about I don’t (know) where I’ll go from here. Tonight was the weekly concert attended by a few civilians including a couple of stuffed dowagers who did more talking than listening. Listening to the concert we usually sit under a big avocado tree and the falling avocadoes are sometimes dangerous, and ripe mangoes literally cover the ground.

Of course every morning we like millions of others listen to the World Series game that begin over here at seven forty-five. And by the way, I’m still a Yankee man.

My job seems to keep me very busy and sometimes it gets a little monotonous but as I said before, it’s a good job and attended with a few advantages. One of the battery clerks was formerly from Omaha and occasionally we can recall something that was familiar to us both. And another of the clerks is a colored boy from Harlem. But the evenings are never long enough and it seems that something comes along about every night to keep me from studying as much as I would like to. Lights are out at nine-thirty which makes time pretty short. I think the boys are about as news minded as any in the outfit and we have our billet wall papered with battle maps to follow the communiqués closely. Of course we do a lot of talking about the progress of the war and not infrequently about the aftermath and what to expect when we come home. Sometimes I get a little depressed about it and wonder if I will ever attain what I started in school. But I cannot put (it) effectively on paper as I think about it so that’s enough of that.

Before I close I want to repeat about how happy I am for Kate and Tom and how much I wish I could see all three of them.

Well let’s call this quits—

Love,

19 August 1943

Dear Folks:

Again I’ve let the time go by without writing you as often as I should and I hope you haven’t worried about it. Part of it was on account of the book that just came—the one you sent. I was on a hike when it came and when we got back I didn’t feel so good but the sight of the package on my bunk made me forget my physical ailments. So since that day I have read it some every night and when I get going on it, neglect to write as I should. I can’t tell you exactly how good I felt about getting it or thanking you for sending it, but I know I’ll always hang on to it as a treasure. And then besides occupying myself with the book we have our bridge games that are rapidly developing into teams of severe competition. I think my game is improving but you can test that when I get home. And golf is something again that I indulge in occasionally. Although my rounds aren’t so frequent we usually manage a nine (hole) about once a week, with rented clubs. I can’t help but remember the times when I so assiduously tried to be a golfer on the hometown course that was really little more than a glorified pasture. The first time I played on the course here I must have looked like an unconscious duffer in the movies. Some of the fellows on the course play without shoes, as they do everything else, and recently the winner of a tournament was a barefooted fellow.

Probably I’m an uncle now and the sooner the better. It’s a good feeling to know that the Moss’ are still growing. Katie hasn’t written for quite a while but then I don’t expect her to, I just want to get an announcement.

I hope you had a good vacation full of a lot (of) leisure, for you certainly deserve one if anyone does, and I hope in the future that you will both have your full share. We were talking about Denver in the billet the other night and nice to have someone else familiar with the place as I am.

This was Sunday but nothing unusual or much to write about. And thinking of church on Sundays, I must repay a visit to the Sisters at the convent. It has been sometime since I was there, but even though they do insist, I hesitate, I suppose for no good reason. The Father is a Belgian, a hearty, witty fellow, with a guttural booming talk, that always makes you feel that you are his best friend. The Sisters, via the grapevine I guess, became aware that I torture the fiddle a little and always attempt to force a number but I remain obdurate. Occasionally I go borrow the violin, but with no privacy, I keep pretty well in check.

One of the fellows in the billet is taking an extension course in economics and with him studying his subject and myself usually reading the law book, we are almost ready to inaugurate a study period. I think the promotion you mentioned will be forthcoming, as a matter of fact, I think it may be even better than that, and although my patience grows thin at times, I guess that is a perquisite to all of them. I believe this is all I (can) scrape together tonight, and I will write again soon. Thanks again for the book and now I’m itching for the next one to arrive.

Love,

3 August 1943

Dearest Folks:

I’m slipping on my writing again so better make this typewriter burn for a while. Just received Nancy’s letter a few moments ago and I especially noted that Glen and Bill E are home on furlough. What we wouldn’t do during a reunion leaves little to the imagination. A fellow in our billet just returned from furlough to the states and during the fiesta we had last night, asked him a bushel of questions about everything. He also brought back with him some spirits by smuggling them in a barracks bag and so that added a touch to the party. We must have acted like a bunch of kids the way we wanted to know a little about everything he saw and did while he was away. He is from a small town in Oklahoma. Of course I can’t describe just how I would act if I ever walked down the main street again, but I, like everyone else I suppose, try to imagine what it would be like before I go to sleep.

I just received the pictures from Dick and I suppose that probably you have yours by now. I think they are pretty good although I don’t think we took enough. I was a little surprised that some of them were passed, but I’m glad they didn’t object because you can get a good idea of the place where we spent most of our time.

I had intended to go to the show tonight and all in all take it easy, but I ran into a volleyball game and finally ended up doing exactly the opposite. My nights are all free and duty hours reasonable and with my type of work I escape some of the rigors of the outdoors, although we take part in some lengthy hikes occasionally. I haven’t lost any of my love for the island, and continue to hope that I will (be) lucky enough to remain here until I step on the boat for ‘Frisco.

I continually mention this subject but I hope you won’t object and that is the books. I hope that nothing arose that prevented your sending the volumes although it might have been necessary to send them in two separate packages depending on the weight.

Katie writes occasionally and everything sounds well with her, and I’m beginning to adopt a parental complex from my coming title of uncle.

I wish I was free to tell you how fast your mail arrives, for I know you would (be) surprised. But it does make good time in some cases although a few occasionally are delayed. I have no less than six letters to write tonight, but I’ve lost the initiative to write except to those that are close. I think I’ll throw in the towel on this issue and hope I can muster a few more words for the next one. I was amused at Phil’s newly acquired car and I can easily imagine how he must be beaming and grinning over his new treasure. And I suppose Nancy has her share of the fun from it. Well this is la finis, but before I go just keep the home and town like it was when I left.

Love,