Loyd and June Archives - Moss Letters

24 June 1945

Dear Folks:

Another Sunday just finishing and it had its small share of something different. Today at three we had Protestant services and I find myself liking the chaplain more every day. Also a super special treat this morning was fresh fried eggs – the first since Leyte and one of (the) few specials in the past year. And almost as good as a big red apple. I could eat a bushel of them.

My morale was braced somewhat today by the rumor that all men with points over the critical score would be home by September. But I can’t let myself believe it because it would be too big a letdown if no soap. All kinds of stories have their followers – here’s another – men with enough points will be kept in a pool until sent home. I hope a few of the good ones materialize.

Had a letter from June a few days ago. She says she may head for Europe to see Loyd.

Have you done any ‘casual’ investigating about Wylma? I’m very anxious to hear from her.

Well I can’t find much else to write about but at least it’s a letter.

Love,

11 June 1945

Dear folks:

My writing has been delayed considerably because of a succession of events that made writing difficult. And I know you’ve been anxious too.

I’ve been bouncing over the roads today and I feel pretty tired and let down tonight but not so I can’t write you. On my travels today I saw Shuri and Noha including Shuri castle or what is left of it. You know the struggle it has been to take those places. I couldn’t describe to you the desolation and wreckage. Hardly a structure stands and everywhere there is rubble of stone and wood. Only a long two-story brick building remains to what was a city of 65,000-Noha. Bulldozers nudge around through the debris clearing roads and cleaning up, and preparing areas to live in. Shuri is equally wrecked. Shuri sits in a valley surrounded by hills and ridges that shelter catacombs of interlocking caves and emplacements. Every ridge is specked with these holes. From a high view the fields are potted with circular shell holes and occasionally a huge crater of a bomb or a large naval shell. And I saw our burned out tanks, many of them, stopped in a low place where the Japs probably used their suicide tactics of planting satchel charges on the tanks and blowing themselves up. Shuri castle has a few remaining pillars still standing. They immediately remind one of the Greek ruins. Now the Japs have been pushed into a very small pocket and there they will probably repeat their banzai charge and the remainder dive into the sea as they did on Saipan. It seems that the Japanese are entirely alien to what we believe about life and the standards we live by.

Yesterday I had a look at four freshly killed Japs who were killed in their cave. They had thrown a grenade at one of our men from their hole about half way up a steep bank. After we sneaked up and threw grenades and plenty of ammunition at them, someone looked in and they had died for the emperor. One had apparently held a grenade to his chest at the last minute for his chest was blown open and his face gone. In peacetime our government will spend thousands of dollars to find the murderer of one man but here a life seems worth little.

After coming in tonight I found I had four letters, two each from Mom and Dad—one from June. They certainly were appreciated and I’ve already gone over them many times. And I’ll read them many more. Now I’m the one who isn’t keeping up, but pretty soon I should be on a regular schedule. Yesterday had two Free Press dated back in February. I’m looking forward to the recent ones you kept.

Haven’t seen Dick or Duane yet but I think it won’t be too long. Probably the island will be secured soon and then it will be easier to get around. I would like to have Dick come over and stay a few days with me if it is possible.

I can’t say much about the demobilization deal except what I read and hear. I have more than 85 points and weighing everything I feel more optimistic than pessimistic about getting home in the next few months—although I have nothing to go on. Maybe it’s like a women’s 6^th sense. But if something doesn’t materialize I will lose faith in everything. I can hardly imagine being home again. A rumor today said those over 85 will see no more combat, but as I say it’s just a rumor.

Bob Meyers and Guyla Steele now—golly I can hardly picture it and Guyla a Russian. I don’t like that. Glad to hear Jim S. is getting married but sorry to hear his folks are leaving. I thought perhaps Phil and Carol would get married on his leave and was slightly surprised to hear they didn’t. Phil sent me a picture of her. She looks pretty sweet.

On the fruit orchard deal it would be mostly oranges and grapefruit and for the first couple of years a small truck garden to alleviate expenses. Our area is in the Rio Grande Valley of Texas. I thought I would put some money into it and let Dick run the place and build up a first class orchard and do everything to produce a good orchard. To make expenses until the crop begins to produce Dick would raise a small truck garden and with the equipment I would buy, he could make money helping others spray etc. And I would come back and get the best job I could and make up some of the first year’s expenses. If I get home soon I’m going to look into it but of course I’m not going all out on it until I can find out a little more. I am anxious to talk to Dick about. I think he will like it. I know my buddy would not let me down, he’s square and honest as the day is long. He is a great guy. He is anxious to help me and he wants later to expand and then go together on a business of hardware there. We had great fun going all over it one night in a foxhole. And I know Dad would fall over backward to advise me. I’m very anxious to see the picture of the store. Nancy and Mom and Phil all write about what an institution it is getting to be.

I’m glad you had a nice birthday and I wished I could have sent you something. (The Noha department store is very short on items). I know Dick and I and Phil will all be home soon to give you an inexpensive but most wanted gift—a big kiss.

And Mom I wouldn’t want you to go out west. Stay where you are and keep home what it has always been and always will be. Many people may soon regret having done that.

And I too want Nancy to go to school and for my choice, Nebraska University. And to have every advantage of graduating. I wanted to graduate in the worst kind of way and feel very badly sometimes because I didn’t. If I were still in school and took law, I would almost be out. I hate to think I will never get a degree. My days there were filled with association and acquaintance with learning, that are long remembered. I surely want Nancy to go and have all she needs to enjoy it.

I’m sure you finally got straightened out on my outfit and I have never been able to tell you. I’m feeling fine but I think I must feel like Dad sometimes—ready to blowup and sometimes I feel nervous as hell. I just hope I can soon see you. Minor differences will seem like nothing after this.

Well it’s beginning to get a little late (9 o’clock) and today may be another heavy one. But I’ll try to write often. You can now feel much reassured for it is almost over on this island and then we can have it easier.

Better stop sometimes although I feel like writing on and on if I could dig up the items.

Love,

24 April 1945

Dear Folks:

Better write again. It’s raining out and sitting here in my pup tent, I may as well do something. It’s so slippery and muddy out it’s almost a feat to walk to chow and back. And the mud is like glue. But I have a dry place to sleep so the rain doesn’t bother too much. Our hut-tent is small but comfortable.

Had a V-mail from Mom today and a letter from Loyd Johnson. It was an old letter and at that time he had only been in two weeks. When Dick was to see me day before yesterday, I gave him all the mail. I had received so (much) I don’t have your letters to comment on. Dick asked me for them almost the first thing. And then he gave me what he had received. I hope he will have time to stop around again soon.

The war news continues to be good and I think that for practical purposes the war in Europe is over. Perhaps that will mean more replacements for the Pacific and then perhaps return home. Was busy figuring points today under the new rotation setup. Once again I feel I will get home this year although it is all problematical.

So much for another time.

Love,

8 February 1945

Dear Folks,

Just unloosened my belt after a good meal and now before beginning a bridge game better write you a while. I’m in the mood and have some news. All day today I tore down the mimeograph machine and of course I had to get good and black as I usually do. I can remember you wondering how I got so dirty. I had parts all over but I got it back together and pretty good job too. After I finished took a dip and then showered. Feel swell now.

Yesterday three packages came—two from you and one from Mrs. D. A. Grove. Your packages were in perfect condition and everything completely intact. The birthday cakes were in very good condition not even smashed. Ate a little of them last nite and they are right in line with your good cooking. They were especially welcome now that the only eats before bed is what you get from home. In the other box was the Absorbine and olives and tuna. All came thru okay. I’m looking forward to some cake and beer tonight after the show. Of course as always when I get a box from home I get sentimental as the devil and catch a tear coming loose. Mrs. Grove sent me a lot of candy and small stuff. I must write her very soon. And today two letters and 4 Free Presses came. One was a Valentine card from you two and one a letter from Dad. The Free Presses were fairly recent—last November. Perhaps all of our second class (mail) will now arrive.

Finally found two bridge players for me and my partner so tonight will have a game. Probably make a lot of boners. A few of the officers play and I hope we can play them sometime.

I was a little surprised to read about what Dad had to say about the Helmicks and if that’s right I hate ‘em too. If he has no feeling for the war effort I would like to personally slug him but hard. I wish to hell he could get over here for a while and see what the hell’s going on. I have no use for anyone who doesn’t know there’s a war going on. Perhaps he should get a look at some young kids lying in a ditch all blown to hell, he’d change his mind. I’m working to a boil—better slow down.

Had a letter from June a few days ago and I’ll bet she’s very lonesome.

One day my hopes go up for rotation and the next time they go down so I’m staying noncommittal. Today took my hopes up again as I understand all over 30 months are being reported. I complete 30 next month, but I can’t imagine me going home. Just too good to be true. There are no furlough quotas.

I guess this is all, better shape up for the show and bridge game. Boy I’m getting to be a terrible writer. Get in too much of a hurry. Thanks again for the boxes and let’s hope next Christmas you won’t have to send any.

Love,

11 January 1945

Dear Folks:

Just finished a pinochle game then wrote a letter to Dick and after writing to you I’ll about be ready for bed. Get a pretty good night’s sleep too – last night took an amatol and slept soundly. We have cats, so keep off the damp ground, and the evenings are pretty cool. All I worry about is a Jap sneaking in but of course that is watched closely. Didn’t work too hard today, still feel a little groggy but steadily improving.

Two letters came in tonight one from Gram and one from Washington. It must be an effort for Gram to write and its swell of her to do it. Glad to hear Gramp is going to Omaha – perhaps they can do him some good. I should write to June soon – I’ll bet she’s pretty blue and busy as hell with her children. Better write Loyd too.

From the tone of Dick’s last letter he sounded in pretty good spirits so I think he’s alright and probably enjoying what he is doing. He’ll make out okeh.

The natives have been working around the area cleaning up and helping get (everything) arranged. Each one has a bolo knife and with that he can do practically anything – build a house, get a dinner, build a boat or what have you. The girls do our washing and do a pretty good job too, but they always want soap.

I’m fine, have a slight cold, and am getting used to the place. Will write again soon. The bill is a Jap money used when they were here. It is worthless now. A peso is equal to fifty cents of our money. Am getting used to saying guess and centavo now.

Love,

12 June 1943

Dear Folks:

I can’t put off writing you much longer—the last five days have been busy ones for me and this is about the first time I could sit down for awhile and catch up on my correspondence. Had a letter from June today—about the first one I guess. And yesterday had another letter from Dick and we are just waiting for the day. Arrangements for transportation are difficult for any certain day but I’m sure we can get together alright. I’m going to ask you to send me twenty dollars by money order to help me with this trip. It will cost me fifty dollars or more and with my allotment and bond it will cut me pretty short. If you register the letter it will arrive much faster. Has the thirty-five dollar allotment been arriving? Well, I’m going to take a shower, go to the show and tomorrow go on pass and to the dance. A short letter but at least it’s something.

Love,

28 November 1942

Dear Folks:

It hasn’t been twenty hours ago that I laid down my pen on the last letter to you but I can’t sit around tonite without writing you. Received a card from June today with a dollar bill in it—a cute card. Then had a letter from Geraldine who is teaching in Elk Creek. The Davis’ do good by me in writing. A good day for mail. Suppose you are all subsiding after the holiday and can’t hardly imagine Kate as Mrs. Creal. I hope she gets the message I sent her. Today was Saturday, the old Saturdays still reflect on the ones now. Heard part of the Army game and the Hit Parade. Something warming about hearing the same programs. I wish I could tell you a little more in my letters but it only takes a word or two to disclose something that might be damaging. Tonight have been doing the weekend polishing. My laundry is done by a Filipino lady who does a very good job.

Love,

21 October 1942

Dear folks:

Here is another letter before I blow out the candle for another day. As I do about every night, I’m sitting in the day room with one ear on the radio and reading a little. I’ve been working on Sandburg’s Lincoln for about three weeks but have it about read. With the Red Cross books I’ve a long way to go yet. Also we have a mobile library that makes the camp about once weekly. Hope we’re beginning to look up in this war situation. I think so and hope I’m right. Think something will happen this winter. Sunday a card to June and Loyd yesterday.

Guess I’ll have to throw in the towel on this letter. I’m out of news. Should write Kathleen again soon although she hasn’t answered my last letter yet. Suppose she’s walking around on a magic carpet. Goodnight until next letter.

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,

10 April 1942

Dear Folks:

Suppose you will be surprised by the series of lots of letters but I’ve had so much time to do nothing that letter writing becomes a good recourse when the time drags.

Finished my tour of guard duty at Carlsbad so I’m back in Escondido. Two letters were waiting for me—one from each of you. When you send me a box again will you include a heavy bath towel and perhaps a couple of hankies? I know you will send a box as you always have so I just as well make my suggestions. Some other things—hair shampoo, whole peanuts, that’s just about everything. I’m as proud as pie over the sweater and hate to have to wear it underneath. I can wear it on the outside only on unofficial formations.

Guess I’ll dig up your letters and take care of your questions. First—the actual temperature doesn’t seem to get so low but somehow the nights are very chilly and invariably we wear jackets and overcoats on nite guard duty, and then we still get cold. Yes, I sleep in my sleeping bag every nite. I would freeze without it—or I feel like I would. Usually in the evening we have a fire going in our little cone shaped stove so it’s comfortable in the tents. In fact your Easter card and the letter about the suit—take your pick—and I also hope Dad is making use of them. When the day comes that I will be handed that precious little document inscribed with the word ‘discharged’ I am going to wear different clothes everyday just to see what it feels like. Now that I got to thinking about it, it will seem odd very different to get back into civilian life. I never realized the freedom and privileges that I enjoyed. Suppose you will for awhile have to wake me with a bugle, blow a horn for chow and give me an inspection on Saturdays. How good it will seem to be relieved of the regulations of uniformity that we all follow.

Last Wednesday got a letter from Gram inviting me to a Nebraska picnic at Long Beach. Dick, Loyd, and June are going but I’m tied up, of course, so can’t attend! It does no good to make plans for anything—take your liberty as it comes and make arrangements later. Last nite a group of women with the Women’s Club in Vista entertained about forty of the soldiers to a dance and games in their clubhouse. I became entangled in a good bridge game with three of the town’s solid (+ solid) women who rank with the sharks. Of course I’m not acquainted with all the intracies and opportunities of the game but we got along pretty good and they were very gracious about my ineptness. They hung on all my words and finally we both recalled someone we knew in Scottsbluff so we became very chummy.

Another Sabbath tomorrow which means pancakes (a rare treat) for breakfast and church later. Besides pancakes-I also saw a boiler full of chickens so suppose we will have chicken for dinner with some good mashed potatoes.

I don’t know any Hoover in my battery although he may be in another battery of the battalion.

I see Dad you mentioned something of going to Alliance to see the army pass threw. Well I suppose a uniform would cause a mild sensation back there but out here they are so commonplace they are never noticed. Everyday convoys of trucks for miles in length pass through the town and P-38 interceptors, bombers and fighters fly over incessantly. Searchlights cut swatches of whiteness in the nights, and boys sit in rooms of sandbags keeping accurate logs of every happening along the coast. Troop trains sweep along, blackened out like a deadly animal and the yellow light of an alert flashes on once in a while. Rumors fly like confetti in a March breeze and the next most important topic is dope about furloughs and passes and (of course) women. I wish you could visit our battery and see what we do. Each move a vital cog in a big war wheel.

Well this covers about all from this news front and perhaps a little to much space so until the next letter.

Love,