Medical Archives - Moss Letters

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,

27 July 1945

Dear Folks:

Not much on tap for tonight so maybe I better write a few letters. Just finished a letter to Dick and I’m going to see if he can make arrangements to visit me for a few days. We are in a permanent area and have a pretty decent setup now.

Had a late issue Free Press today – very recent and a letter from Phil and Nancy yesterday. Phil is turning out different than I thought he would. Wished I would get back in time to see him.

Very little to write about. There is nothing new on getting back. It is just a matter of waiting.

Went to teeth inspection today and it looks like I may have some work done [soon]. The doc pulled a tooth last October and I think it’s getting bad under the filling.

Well I’m out of news so I guess I’m bound to close.

Love,

8 July 1945

Dear Folks:

Wanted to write you a long letter last night but some fireworks started and the lights were turned off so I didn’t get all said I wanted to.

The mailman brought me three letters today, one from each of you and from Pat Moss. In Mom’s letter was the pictures and the clipping about Jim’s marriage. Nancy looks very sweet and innocent in her formal. I’m sure I’ll be as proud of her as you are. I’m looking forward to having her in [University of] Nebraska next fall. That’s quite a bridge behind Mom. I guess it’s more than a bridge. Dad doesn’t look like he’s getting older as far as I can see. Gramp looks very poor and Phil so husky and filled out. I’m pretty thin right now and everyone tells me about it, but I feel alright, but get a little nervous doing paperwork all the time. Maybe you can fatten me up a little. I think I weigh about 130 [pounds] – [a] little more than I did when I came in, but I think I’ll look better when I get off this island.

I don’t know what has happened to the magazines and packages you sent. Only one Free Press has arrived. The Reader’s Digest makes it pretty regular though.

You guys think I might not want to do much talking when I get back, but I think I will, or at least I think I will. But a lot of people wouldn’t really know what you were talking about and I’d get tired of them quick.

Haven’t received the letter from Carol. I hope I can get back to see them get married.

Boy the house must be a very nice place with all the redecorating you are doing. I bet you are doing it because you’re expecting somebody home.

Dick is alright and is still on the island and I should see him soon.

Love,

17 June 1945

Dear Folks:

Rather quiet this Sunday afternoon so I better grab hold of myself and get a few letters written. A few minutes ago I just returned from church services in the mess tent. The first we have had in three weeks due to the situation.

It is continuing (to) dry and today it is very warm but a slight breeze is blowing that makes it cool in the shade. Mosquitoes are bad at night but of course we all have nets and take Atabrine to curb malaria. Also planes spray the island often and it keeps the flies down to a minimum. They come soaring over very low letting out a white trail of insecticide.

Well, the Japs are now very compressed on the southern end of the island and I hear we have only about a mile to go – should be over in a couple of days. Our artillery has been sitting up a constant barrage. I suppose the Japs are about gone nuts now. Our sleeping tent is setting upwind of one of our gun batteries and every time they fire, the smoke blows down right over us, and it smells exactly like rotten egg gas, but we get used to it.

I’m still very fine and comparatively safe and little excitement has happened for me. All I’m afraid of is a Jap sneaking in at night, but we are well protected, so that isn’t much of a threat, just a possibility. About a week ago two of them tried to slip in the motor pool but the boys spotted them and fired at them. But they got away and before leaving dropped their packs, both full of grenades.

Just a second ago a guy brought me two letters, one from Dad and from Nancy. Nancy says she doubts if it rains as hard here as at home – well 13 inches in a week is a lot. Never saw it rain that much in Nebraska.

Now that things appear to be loosening up on getting home, I’m getting impatient. Between you and me I figure I’ll hit the September or October quota, but don’t bank too heavily on it. I just cannot imagine myself back with you and enjoying myself at home and being completely independent, at least for a while. But I feel certain I will see you this year and not as Nancy says, by the time she graduates – that’s much too far away.

No, I never get enough of your letters, dad as you say, to the contrary. I’m always watching the mail orderly and it’s very seldom I walk away from a mail call without anything. You do a good job of writing and I know it’s a big job writing to three of us but I hope soon that it will be cut to two, by me getting home.

Love,

5 May 1945

American Red Cross
Scotts Bluff County Chapter

Gering, Nebraska
May 5, 1945

Mrs. V. R. Moss
Box 393
Minatare, Nebraska

Dear Mrs. Moss:

We are attaching hereto letter received this morning from Home Service Correspondent, St. Louis, Missouri, in answer to our letter written in March for a health and welfare report of your son.

Yours very truly,

/s/L. B. Harrison
L. B. Harrison
Home Service Chairman
Scotts Bluff County Chapter
jr

Attached with the Letter

Office of the Field Director
Hqs. XXIV Corps APO 235
c/o P. M. San Francisco, Calif.April 22, 1945Miss Mathilde M. Enes
Home Service Correspondent
Midwestern Area
American Red Cross
1709 Washington Avenue
St. Louis 2, Missouri

Re: Moss, Harold G. T/Sgt.
37086474
Hqs. 225 FA Bn
APO 235

Dear Miss Enes,

In reply to your letter of March 28 in regard to the above named soldier, we have contacted Sgt. Moss and find that he is in good health, good spirits, and on active duty. His commanding officer says there is no reason to worry about either the soldier’s morale or his health.

There are many men here who have been overseas three years, but there is a good possibility that those with combat experience will soon get an opportunity to return home.

If we can be of further service, please let us know.

Very truly yours,

Willis H. Bowen
Assistant Field Director

20 April 1945

Dear Folks:

Only time to write you a few lines but I know you want to hear. Your mail is coming through in an excellent manner and it is surprising how fast. I can’t mention specific dates. Much of this mail is fairly old stuff held up by the circumstances, but the recent stuff is also coming. It is needless to say how good it is to get them. Had two from Dad today just after dinner. I will have a lot of letters to write when things quiet down.

I can’t tell you much about the campaign but you can get a fairly accurate account from the papers. I will see Dick every opportunity I have and will let you know immediately. I’m fine and feeling good. The doctor was a little concerned about my illness but after two negative urinalysis he concluded it was neuritis. Anyway it left and has not reoccurred. I have an excellent buddy and that helps. So does Dick from what they have gone through they know each other inside and out. They look for each other.

I will write again soon and in the meantime have confidence and I know everything will turn out alright.

Love,

23 March 1945

Dear Folks:

I’m afraid this won’t be much of a letter but any word is good I know. Just received the news of Phil’s induction into the Navy and I feel wonderful about [it]. That will be much better than the Army. He will always know where his bunk is and will escape the uncomforts of foxholes and C rations. He will be alright.

So very little has happened I’m very short on news so this will about be it. Am feeling good again but always have you on my mind and wonder when I can see you again.

Love,

7 March 1945

Dear folks,

Just returned from a movie and it was one I almost wished I hadn’t seen. It seems like I get easily irritated anymore and upset on little notice. I get so anxious to get home once again and see what it’s all like back there.

Had a letter from Dad today and I knew it wouldn’t do any good to write about the (Christmas) packages—they’re just gone and that’s all there is to it. No more have arrived.

I’m feeling much better the past few days and I think the trouble has cleared up at least temporarily. Been sleeping good and getting to bed early.

I don’t know what to write about–there is damned little. Read an interesting news item today about a speech by General Stilwell. He is complaining about too little publicity for the guys that are really fighting this war, and too much glamorization as pictured by writers and movies. The hero of almost every story is an Air Corps officer. The guys in the infantry are the guys that should really get the credit. You should see them and us too, in combat. They look like tramps out of a hobo jungle with beards, dirt coated clothes, and smelling like a used sardine can. They don’t have a lot of movie-minded sentiments and hero ideas, and plenty of things will probably get them sore when they get back. They live under conditions so tough that even a narrow cot would be a luxury. I wish they could see it back there and then if they still have the guts to strike and to complain over shortages, shoot ‘em. There’s no use getting hot tempered I know for it does very little good, but I’m liable to get aroused if when I get back I run into such a contemptible person. When I know what you are doing and then think of the hypocritism by service some people are so adept at, I can’t help but feel it’s just an Army game with the country back of you only so far as their personal enjoyment and material gains are not menaced. I guess every one has a letter like this inside him every once in a while and tonight was mine.

I think about you often and wonder if the anxiety and waiting are aging you before your time. I would like to get home more for your benefit than mine.

Love,

6 March 1945

Dear Folks:

Thought I better use a V-mail tonight as there isn’t much to write about. But today did have one of those seldom occasions. For the first time in almost a year I had some ice cream. It was just enough to wet your whistle but it was damned good. Probably that will be my ration for a long time to come. Haven’t had any mail the last few days so tomorrow should bring in a big batch. Got a January Reader’s Digest a few days ago so I’ve had some good reading material. In the December 23^rd issue of the Saturday Evening Post there is a good article on artillery that you might like and also in a recent American. Been laying off exercises this week and the doc is giving me sulphadiazene tablets for my back. Maybe that will do it. I guess this is about it for another time. Better write Dick tonight.

Love,

28 February 1945

Dear Folks:

I’m afraid this week won’t be much of a letter but I’m fiddling around so just as well write. Just listened to the news and it’s very good. Sounds like a big break through in Europe, am still sticking with the first of May.

A guy in my barracks has been talking to me about buying some citrus fruit land in the Rio Grande in Texas after the war. He’s been giving me all the dope and talking it up pretty strong. He’s been quoting figures, costs, help, machinery, and so forth and for all I know about it, it sounds good. His dad is a Kansas wheat farmer and he has an orchard down there. We’ve had a lot of fun talking about it and if he keeps (it) up I may get interested. He figures on 20 acres at $150 an acre, and after three years or more, an estimated gross income of $3,000.00. He’s got it all figured out. It sounds good but of course a lot may happen before the war is over. We figured on a government loan and the expert advice help of his old man. It’s (a) great pastime to plan it.

The rain is coming down in a furious driving gale and sometimes I’m afraid the tent will give way. If it should, we’re sunk.

Am going to the hospital tomorrow for the results of my urinalysis. Have felt pretty good today except for right now which began after supper.

Had a nice letter from my Washington reporter. She has certainly set a record in letter writing. She sent a Valentine card and is always enclosing a small book that she thinks I would like. When I was in Fort Lewis, she would bake me cookies and take me to Seattle and Tacoma. She thinks a lot of me. Better write her tonight.

A short epistle tonight but a letter regardless. So until the next one.

Love,