Mail Archives - Page 5 of 5

11 February 1944

Dear Folks:

Just a few brief lines to acknowledge your last letter and end the week up with a clear conscious. Received the check for 12/50 and the statement. It will come in handy. Our mail is certainly getting back and forth in good time. I received one letter from you and couldn’t believe my eyes when I read the date stamp next to the return address which is what everyone looks at first. This afternoon I had occasion to go to headquarters and I traveled the hi-way from a four lane one and crammed with vehicles. Your eyes would probably bulge to see the great activity everywhere. It certainly must be a blow to see so many close friends get billed[?] as was Waite and the others. I see the Free Press has started to carry the pictures and maybe the ones of Redding, Goolsby, and Petron will bring the war a little closer to some people. The Carrolls’ and Fry’s seem to be having a big round of dinners and parties—they are lucky to all be together. I keep telling myself a crack at a furlough will come up this year, let’s hope. Had a bridge game tonight and came out on top. I’m improving. Well goodnight for this time. I hope Dick can come around tomorrow.

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,

22 April 1943

Dearest Folks:

Just put up the blackouts and now lounging around putting in time on another enemy that is so beautiful that I can hardly think of war. Two letters came today, one from Gram and the other from Nancy, both welcome and read over many times. V-mail is dependable and regular but ordinary mail arrives in batches and usually pretty old. I have to think twice to recall that it is spring at home and that summer is not far off but even here the nights are naturally warmer and the mosquitoes more and hungrier. Right now Harry James is on the air preceded by the news. The news broadcasts are very popular in our billet and in one end we have a large map to keep us geographically posted. The progress and end of the war is subjected to many diverse and peremptory arguments but I would share the optimistic opinion of so many of them. Of course I am well as always and in a great state of morale and consider myself lucky to share the conveniences we do have. I will answer Nancy’s letter soon and thank her very much for it. I guess it’s goodnite now.

Love,

3 April 1943

Dearest Folks:

I’m afraid this will be little more than a note to let you know that everything is still okay but I always feel better after taking care of your letter. The past few days have been good ones for mail and of course that doesn’t hurt my morale any. I always get one from you. You must be very busy writing so much but if I couldn’t get your mail, I would feel completely lost. I had one from Katie. I’m glad she is so happy.

Tomorrow is another Sunday and unfortunately I am on duty all day but perhaps that will give me a chance to get caught up on my mail. By the time you receive this, I will have mailed the hat. I also sent five pictures yesterday. I get a big bang from sending you stuff.

Better pull the curtain tonight. It’s about time for bed check and lights out.

Love,

14 January 1943

Dear Folks:

It isn’t long until hay time but perhaps I can get a few lines thrown together before the lights are out. I just came back from the show and it was “The Lure of the Islands”. It drew a lot of desultory (?) comments from the crowd. It is much more romantic than it actually is.

The month is half gone and I can hardly believe it. Nor can I realize it is 1943. I wonder where I would be if all this hadn’t happened but I guess that is foolish speculation. I wished I had a technical camera to round up a bunch of shots of flowers and trees. They are really beautiful and I’d give a lot to see a few in our backyard. There are more darn varieties and some are always in bloom. In some places the roads are lined on either side with banks of blossoms.

My mail has been slack lately but quess I haven’t been writing much. Suppose you have heard of the new postal regulations on packages and letters.

I spend the bulk of every evening reading or going to the show. The library in town is fairly well stocked so on pass I take care of my reading material. There is also a free traveling library that makes the rounds every two weeks.

I know you must feel there isn’t very much in what I write but activity is so routine, news is at a premium. But I think about home all the time. As a matter of fact, I was accused of talking of it in my sleep and know now there isn’t a better place in the world.

Well it’s adios until another time but let’s hope our battle of the inkwells ends before too long,

Love,

10 December 1942

Dear Dad:

It has been a long time since I last wrote but if the family tatters the edges of those I write then I guess I can be excused, but I do want to write you often and keep as close to all of you as I can. Tonight was a landoffice business on mail and about everyone rated something. I had two and a postcard; one from Pat and a card from the Reader’s Digest about the subscription. I have about a dozen books on my bed but the Digest is a must. The town nearby operates a free library or rather a traveling free library. Also the Red Cross supplies us with plenty of old magazines.

Tonight the radio is going on as usual and right now it’s Major Bowes. Radio batteries are pretty non-existent. I guess the WPB has ruled them out for commercial purposes. For other entertainment the USO makes movies possible. They are shown in the recreation room of the hospital. Most of the fellows are attending. But I walked to the irrigation ditch for a bath and didn’t make it back. The army has a PX in town that is pretty well stocked and where soldiers can get essentials and supplies at reasonable cost.

There is a little news—have a pass on Saturday to go to the beach, wouldn’t you like to swim in December? The flowers are getting prettier all the time.

Last night I sent you the paper and a letter so I’ll slack off.

I’m in good spirits and better health—this sunshine is a good tonic. Hurry with Katie’s pictures. Goodnite and I’ll take you up on the jacket.

Love,

2 November 1942

Dear Folks:

After reviewing two of your letters guess it is high time I took up my pen again. I think my mail is arriving okay—for many of yours have been received and hardly a mail call goes by without my getting at least one but then I never get enough to suit me. Gram is behind I believe. Perhaps if I scan over your letters, I can find something to write about. The news about Eilad Horshman is news—it was time she flew the coop though—or perhaps the coop never was much of a cage. Haven’t received the Free Press yet but they’ll get here. My tooth is yet unfixed although I had a dental appointment but it fell through. Believe they intend to pull it.

And the subscription is just the ticket—we subscribe to it but it isn’t always available and I like to read it through. I’ve answered the rest of the questions.

Tonight in the dayroom the radio is crashing on every table—there’s a game of pinochle going on, two or three books being read and plenty of letters being written and the smoke is like a blanket of clouds.

About this time every nite I turn over a leaf or two on an old memory album and look at each picture slowly and catch a glimpse of the privileges that made them possible. Guess I’ll stop with that.

Goodnite and a bomber load of love,

13 October 1942

EFM Virgil R. Moss

Keep smiling. You are more than ever in my thoughts at this time. Letters received many thanks.

Harold G. Moss 9:30 AM

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,

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,