Katie Moss Creal Archives - Page 3 of 4

27 November 1942

Dear Folks:

I’ve neglected you for the past three days but a combination of circumstances were responsible, not altogether my own laxity. Anyway to recover a lost round here goes. I can easily imagine what is uppermost in your mind. Bet everybody was having a swell time all day for the home circle with the wedding and the following fiesta. Well that’s for you to give me the lowdown on—so I’ll give you the dope as it happened on my holiday. The day coincided with my pass day so I slept in until nine o’clock, then loafed around until noon. We were all epicurean artists. They had everything from legendary soup to nuts—with about two pounds of turkey per head. We even inveigled a quart of wine to use in the sauce. When I got up I felt like Harry Johnson looks and had both belt ends flapping away from a tortured stomach. I could only look sadly at the coconut frosted cake and pass it by. In the afternoon I went into town, had a few beers and returned to camp. The liquor situation is pretty acute and places open only as shipments permit. Yesterday being a holiday, a few places were open and everyone was filled.

I sent Katie a message but afraid it didn’t reach her in time—anyway you can forward it to them. Now I’ll chew my nails until the pictures get here and your letters giving me the scoop. From the time I got up yesterday I imagined everything that was going on at the minute—but with my limited familiarity with nuptial rites I’m afraid my imagination went awry. Dick as an usher forced quite an imagination.

Yes, Captain Olson is still my CO.

I think this (is) all I can compose this time. I write about the battery once a week in the paper—perhaps I should send you the clippings as memoirs.

It’s another Thanksgiving gone into history and let’s hope that on the next one we’ll be thankful the war is over.

Buenos Noches tonight.

Love,

13 November 1942

Dear Folks:

If you could see me writing this one you might get a good laugh—sitting on the floor using a stack of books for a back prop and a cracker box for a desk. Now you’ve got the setting, get set for some dopey dogma. Since the last time I sent you a letter I’ve received three of yours so it’s a good time I got ambitious again and one from Dan and Dick.

To get underway—what you really want to know about. Managed to make it to church last Sunday then tackled a vahine at a hoedown. She danced like an epileptic fit but I’m no Astair. The remainder of the week could be covered in about one word “ditto”. My mail has been on the lookin’ up side. I got squalmy one nite when the stars were dishing out and wrote a letter to Wylema. Said she dropped you a note about it. Guess I’m still a Houdini puzzle.

All the words about Katie’s jump takes on the scope of a witch dance—wished I was operating one of the drums but you know that.

I finally adopted an edition of “Shake Hands with the Dragon” that you mentioned. Haven’t got the dust from it yet.

Now don’t ration your stationery on me. Everyone I answer. You’re doing swell and I got plenty of ink too.

This covers it again I guess. Again soon I’ll take a three hour barah(?) and devote it all to you.

I’ve got more memories than mosquito bites and I need eight arms to scratch ‘em.

Love,

7 November 1942

Dear Folks:

I don’t know how long I can hang on but here goes nothing. My mail has been pretty good lately and I want to keep it that way. Among others had a letter from Mrs. Davis–she sounds like she’s a little better off than when I was there—boy how I long to get back there. Another letter, V one was from Nancy and I’ll get busy on that one pronto.

I had forgotten about the battalion pictures but I’m glad you got them—guess that will always be a shining relic. It isn’t too good a picture but that’s not important.

Glad Mrs. Carroll liked my letter—I like to get one from her occasionally too—she gave me Duane’s address but I lost the letter.

I haven’t received the Free Presses yet but expect they’ll be here soon. I’m anxious to see one of them.

Answered a letter of Katie’s last nite—sounds like she’s bouncing around in the blue.

Your letters are very readable. I mean the V-mail—it shows up well. Well the war news has been looking up lately and I think it will until it’s over—news like that makes me feel better all over. The current bit of lingo is buying a ticket on the “A” train for home.

This has got to be it for another letter I guess—Sunday—tomorrow and hope I make it to church —there is an Episcopal one in town and a nice one too.

Goodnite and keep your eyes off the dark clouds—they’ll just be niches in a lifetime someday.

Love,

5 November 1942

Dear Folks:

This is going to (be) a short round and definitely not newsy but stationery is plentiful and I’m loafing so here goes.

All your duck and pheasants sound good from here—Don must be developing a shootin’ eye. I guess him and Hammy really made a pair.

I’m enclosing the first page of our paper and on it you will find a few lines by me on the outfit—this is the second time I’ve been in but couldn’t find a copy of last weeks.

For the past three days a crew of men have been harvesting a field of cane adjacent to our camp—it’s quite a process and entails the use of a lot of equipment including caterpillars and derricks to lift the cane onto small cars on a narrow gauge railroad track. But before the stuff is cut it is burned to destroy the underbrush and facilitate cutting.

All that fancy stuff about Kate’s wedding has the tone of a coronation.

I might be putting on the gloves with the censor but we are near a town about the size of Ritchell and it has a large Kress store and a couple other up to date establishments. I mailed two or three packages a few days ago so let me know if you get them. Couldn’t find anything for Don or Dick but I’ll find something.

There’s a soldier’s program from Hawaii, in fact two or three I believe and I think you can get them.

I think I’m getting all your mail although it doesn’t arrive as rapidly as mine does to you.

The General was around today but guess we’re up to snuff enough to satisfy him.

Well, am out of material so here’s the curtain.

Love,

29 October 1942

Dear Folks:

I rang the bell today with three letters thanks to the ambition of Dick and Nancy and I’ll answer them ‘ poste roote’. All were V letters. For the past two weeks have been news fatherer for the outfit and when the next issue is pointed, I’ll send you the column to file among my service memories. News is as scarce as a Jap in Lockheed so probably most of my letters are repetition. Sure I get good grub. I’m still riding a wave of optimism concerning the war and hope I’m right. I can’t imagine it otherwise.

I can easily envision all the activity around the home site on Katie’s big day—just to meet Tommy would be something. Who’s going to say the words? And to have Gram and Gramp there will be something too.

Well Christmas is again at hand and so far I’ve had a time finding anything suitable although I’ll find something. Last Sunday went to church and our own too although the pews were warmed only by a major and two privates.

Guess I told you about the subscription to Time and The Reader’s Digest.

Sorry about the brevity of this but there isn’t any more—what a paltry of peas would taste like right now.

Love and goodnite,

22 October 1942

Dear Folks:

I have one airmail stamp left that I want to use and I can’t think of a better use than a letter to you, although you probably think I’ve dropped a marble by my prolific letter writing.

Had a letter from Gladys Davis—she’s doing better by me—she writes a good bit of news. To go back aways to stamps—I can use plenty of airmail ones and stationery of this type that keeps within the weight limit on the clipper. Think about Katie’s skirmish quite a bit and I wrote her tonight—suppose she’s acting a little wacky.

One of the guys I have an especial yen to, is from Youngstown and is pretty familiar with Sharon (Pennsylvania)and those parts. He’s a newcomer and doesn’t fail to voice his protests.

Well I better finish or I’ll be dribbling off into some dreary dogma—put a pen in Dan and Nan’s hand once in a while. Boy, could I go for some peas and shells.

Love,

10 October 1942

Dearest Folks:

I don’t know how I’m going to fill two pages but at least I’m going to attempt it. I suspect the number one issue is the wedding. Received your letter before I did Katie’s about the event, so it wasn’t until tonight that I answered it. Things like this are inevitable, but now that they are coming into reality for some darn reason, I begin to get sentimental about it all. I wish Katie the very best and I hope their venture turns out with the same success as you and Dad enjoyed. All our squabbles and disagreements don’t strike me as something to be regretted, but rather as something that colored our lives and made the family circle binding and effective. Really regret (that) I can’t be there for the wedding and especially to put my arm around you when you begin to cry after the ceremony, and not least to meet Tommy and get in on the festivities.

I’m the same guy you kissed goodbye in [Camp] Stoneman. Was on pass yesterday and aside from a swim accomplished exactly nothing. Ate a casserole of steaks and sat in the USO building, squalling in the layroom tent now, listening to some football scores to the hit parade. Got my GI specs today—look like an insect with bulging eyes. Good glasses though. Another sheet would exhaust me.

Love,

8 October 1942

Dearest Folks:

Can’t think of much to write about but at least it will be something. Received the letter in which you mentioned Katie’s coming marriage-suppose such things are inevitable but I can’t imagine her with a husband. And I won’t be there for the occasion-probably the biggest thing since Nancy was born. Send me a picture of Tommy when you get one. By the tone of her letters I thought he was little more than another flame. Haven’t received a letter from her since I’ve been on the islands. Can see you doing all your canning and although I disliked helping you wished I was there. Also I received an old issue of the Free Press that I gobbled it up like an Esquire issue. Going on pass tomorrow for a little fun in town. Also received a letter from Dick in Pando and one from Gram. Gram said June was in the hospital so suppose I am an uncle by several weeks now. I am happy and satisfied and just biding my time until this is all over. Believe my discharge will be an even greater occasion than my wedding. I wish I was with you so much it hurts but it’s hurting plenty others too.

Love,

11 August 1942

Dear Folks:

I should be working I suppose but I’m going to try to write you a letter before they catch up with me.

Perhaps the wind is beginning to blow a different direction because there are again some rumors of furloughs—as a matter of fact the CO told us that he thought perhaps we might be given a little time off after we got to ‘Frisco—but for how long I don’t know. We’re still in Fort Lewis but leaving for Frisco tomorrow on the train. On your next letters address them to San Francisco at the address I gave you.

Got your two swell letters yesterday and was gong to write last night but felt so tired out that gave it up. I’m all over the flu but it made me feel pretty low and weak for awhile. Took it easy over the weekend but Sunday night that girl I’ve told you about came around with her car so we went to the beach and later to Tacoma. She made me a batch of cookies but they are practically all gone now.

I’m going to buy a dozen rabbits feet, throw horseshoes over my shoulder and engage in any other good luck omen that I can think in hopes that it will promote some kind of a furlough. I was thinking of it last night when I went to bed and thought how swell it would be. Logically it would seem like it would be better for the fellows if they could be granted a little vacation but maybe the military strategists know what they are doing. If I could get a little travel time along with it the trip wouldn’t be such a rush.

I’ve got a lot of new equipment and have been getting rid of any telltale markings on my old stuff, have my bags marked and about ready to take off.

I better write a letter to Grandma and let her know my new address or I’ll have mail chasing me all over the country. I was thinking it would be a good idea for you to send the Star Herald to me but I don’t know what arrangements or what newspapers would be allowed overseas; perhaps I can find out.

It seemed I had so much on my mind last night to write about but now it seems to have gone like the darkness. Suppose Katie is home now and you are enjoying her.

This didn’t turn out to be much of a column but at least it’s a token of a letter. Suppose my friend the censor will be reading my letters pretty soon and won’t let any out for awhile but maybe that won’t be for sometime yet.

Will see you in the next letter and all of you keep your mugs in the breeze and your shoulders back.

Love,

6 August 1942

Dear Folks:

I’ve been pounding this machine like a cub journalist at a Democratic convention but now that things are quiet possibly I can use it for my own ends.

Well contrary to my expectations we are still here in Fort Lewis, but sitting on pins waiting for the day to leave. I didn’t think we would be here this long but we are and possibly we may be here for another week, but it surely won’t be long before we leave for ‘Frisco. By the way we have been advised to give our new address, so here it is, but it isn’t to be used until we change our station and I’ll let you know when we do:

Pvt. H G Moss 37086474
Btry. C 222 FA Bn.
APO 1288 % Postmaster
San Francisco, California

Got your telegram with the money and I really do appreciate it because I know what it means to you. Also got your airmail letter today. I hope you will feel free to use the money that I have allotted if you need it very bad. Someday soon now you should also be getting the bonds. As soon as we are overseas we are given a 20% increase in pay so I will have enough cash to get along on. Also if anything should happen to me the government makes a gratuity payment of six months wages which would amount to about three hundred sixty dollars. Things are still humming around here like an aircraft plane getting ready to leave and schedules have been made out for training on the boat so it can’t be far off. Yesterday I mailed my sleeping bag home and also rolled up in it is my sweatshirt, OD sweater and civilian shoes. Better give the bag to Dan for his long gone birthday—it would come in handy to use on all night camping trips and the like. It needs cleaning and there are a couple of small holes in it on the inside that can be easily mended.

Suppose you both had a little blue spell after the telephone call and I wasn’t any different. I guess the telephone is the next best thing to a furlough but I still didn’t say what I wanted to and like I wanted to. Mom you acted very bravely and you held the tears to a minimum.

The girl (Mattie) I have been going with on and off on the Post gave me a nice diary and a small book to use for memories and that sort of thing. She’s a swell gal but nothing to arouse my more tender instincts. She hated to see me leave though.

There isn’t much else to write about. I’m going to do a little laundry tonight so that all of it will always be clean then take a shower and hit the hay. About the glasses you mentioned—the government furnishes one pair of GI’s free of cost so that with my own I will have two pair. Also I am issued a pair of gas mask glasses. Got a letter from Katie yesterday and I answered it right away. Should also write a letter to Grandma although she hasn’t answered my last one. Took more shots today. They are getting to be like a cup of coffee for breakfast. You may not hear from me for sometime after we leave Fort Lewis, because I understand all of our mail is held up until after we arrive at our destination so don’t think it is my neglect. Also we are supposed to leave a couple of postcards in Frisco that will be mailed you when the convoy arrives.

I’m going to hate to go because it will mean such a long way from home and for as long as I’ve been away it will seem all the farther, but then we’ll just have to do what you said and hope for a quick end to it all.

Well goodbye for another letter. Minatare would look like Shangri-la in springtime right now even if maybe it is just a whistle stop. Don’t worry about me, that’s what the government is doing, and I’ll yet be making you pick up my scattered clothes.

Love,