Medical Archives - Page 4 of 5

15 August 1942

Dear Folks:

I know you must be anxious to hear from me and now is a good time to get it done. I just had some ice cream from the canteen then shaved and showered so I feel pretty good now ready to be quiet for the rest of the evening.

Thursday we left Fort Lewis and the next day arrived at an embarkation camp near Pittsburgh and about 30 miles from Frisco. It is a brand new place and the barracks swell, but they are painted dark OD and don’t look very impressing. Incidentally our CO said this morning that during our trip someone had burned 300 feet of thistle in the mountains and we were re-routed—shows the need for secrecy I guess. Since we have been here we have had two physical inspections on eyes, teeth, heart, etc. By the way the dentist said my teeth were sound but that the army could make no allowance for the broken tooth. This all seems to indicate that we will be moving soon—understand that two of our batteries are leaving immediately then we will follow. Again I’ve rejected hope for furloughs, tough as it is.

The kitchen here serves cafeteria style and requires 60 kp’s. The canteen is practically in our backyard–that comes in handy in off hours. This morning we had to sign slips to the effect that we understood that any AWOL, even for a short time, constituted desertion and we are liable for execution or loss of citizenship and a dishonorable discharge. Guess it has to be that way though.

Passes are tough to get and I have little hope of getting out to see Frisco.

Everything seems pretty much the same at least as much as possible. I can’t seem to find much to write about even though you probably think I should fill a book. Suppose the sleeping bag has reached you by now.

All I can think of is a little time off with all of you and loafing around home and when I think of all the time in the past when we could have been granted them, it sort of irks me that before we left Lewis all organizations not subject to overseas duty were authorized to grant 15 day furloughs.

Probably I’ll write again tomorrow being Sunday with little to do, so maybe I can write a little more.

Love,

PS I have been promoted to Private First Class so put PFC in front of my name. Also don’t forget to use APO 1288.

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,

29 July 1942

Dear Folks:

Well back in Lewis again and it seems good-very good, but we won’t be here for long.

Among two important things to come in this letter the first is that those elusive things called furloughs are definitely out. So make no plans on that count or any count. Next is I’m going overseas soon perhaps next week. I believe it will be a long trip for our CO said we were drawing canned rations for one hundred days. Incidental to this has been inspections and cleaning of material and loading trucks. All day has been a fast one, checking all equipment and turning some in and getting some. Most of our shots will be taken over, and I must have my eyes examined so I can secure extra pairs. I will send my sleeping bag home. We even had to go thru our billfolds and obliterate any identifying printing. Suppose it will be like this till we leave.

I can imagine how you will feel when you first know but we’ll just make the most of it and hope it’s over soon. Most of us feel low not getting any leave at all and I’m foremost among them. I’ll send you letters steadily and let you have my new address as soon as possible. I’ll be expecting a stream of letters now and some pictures once in a while—they will be everything. Your letters will not bear any foreign address but will go to an APO in San Francisco. Suppose I won’t be able to say much but enough to let you know about me.

If you want me to call, you can wire me for the date.

Now you keep your mugs in the breeze Mom and Dad and I’ll bring back some sweet trophies. Nothing will happen to me. I’ll write very soon again.

Always,

22 May 1942

Dear Folks:

I know I ought to write to you tonite but I’m having a time conjuring a mood for the occasion. Anyway with time so abundant I better.

As I told you in my last letter I’m in the hospital with a case of mild infantigo but since I’ve been here it has almost cleared completely and I’m looking forward to getting my release someday next week. I shall have been in a week next Monday. I have been getting three pills about twice a day and the sore spots smeared with suphathyacol. One guy across the isle is from Brooklyn, has his ears painted purple and has his hair shaved off. He sports a typical accent but his purple ears cause the most comment. His most common moniker is ear muffs. He reminds me of the homeliest guy in the ‘Dead End Kids’.

Suppose by the time you get this letter you will have seen Katie (doesn’t he mean Nancy?) graduate and the end of one more struggle partly whipped. I would accept a few months in the guardhouse to see her for awhile. Suppose she looks as vivid and sparkling as ever. What should I present her for graduation? A little late but I’ll get her something.

Your last letter mailed the fourteenth never reached me until today the 22^nd.

There is still nothing on furloughs—nothing at all, not even a clue. Our officers know nothing about it so all we can do is wait until the announcement is given. How will this affect your California trip?

Got a letter from Gramma today pretty brief but general. She said she had another spell of high blood pressure, also that Dick could now work in Consolidated. Dick is pretty esoteric in everything and it’s hard to tell what he thinks.

Well I’ll write tomorrow in release from this letter so until then.

Love,

18 May 1942

Dear Folks:

Boy have I got a lot to time to write now. I’m in the hospital. Remember the infantiago I told you about well, it failed to clear up after about a month’s treatment so the battalion doctor decided to send me to a specialist. Hope I’m not cooped up here long or I think I’ll go nuts—just came in this morning and slept most of the afternoon and played rummy this evening. I thought the stuff was almost cleared up—just have a small spot below my lower lip and at the edge of my mouth, but the doc decided to do something about it. I’m in a skin clinic in a ward where there are many other cases of skin diseases of all kinds. The nurse just came in a few moments ago—a pip-and the boys all had humorous remarks to make. Already I wish I was back with the outfit. I feel so helpless or something and really nothing’s the matter with me. Hope I get out soon but in these army hospitals sometimes it’s hard to get out.

Well I’ll probably write tomorrow again to kill some time and give some personal reflection on army life. So till tomorrow.

Love,

3 May 1942

Dear Folks:

I’ve wandered over half of the camp since supper and couldn’t find anything I wanted to do so here I am back on my bunk writing to you, which I should have done in the first place.

The box came about three days ago and did I have a good time opening it. The towels were just the thing and when I got around to the food I had about a dozen chow-hounds to get rid of. Everything hit the spot. Also got the Star Heralds and the Free Presses. I heard over the radio that there was plane wreckage with Bob [Redding from Minatare] among the crew. All were believed dead.

Well last Sunday we moved from the newer part of the fort over to the old section with the brick buildings. Our battery is sleeping in the usual wooden barracks but they are swell brick buildings all around. It was a heck of a time moving—the second Sunday in a row we worked and my morale was feeling pretty low. So for about all we have been doing is scrubbing, cleaning windows and the like. Everything has to be so darned perfect whenever we leave a place.

The building we eat in, and where a couple of batteries of our battalion are quartered is about the size of the Scottsbluff high school and fixed up elegantly. Finally after hearing and reading about the army’s modern equipment in the kitchen, I’ve actually seen some. The kitchen is a large room lined with brick tile and accessorized with Monel metal on most appliances. We have electric dishwashers and automatic potato peelers. And there is one machine that stands about four feet high and looks like a large drill, but is isn’t. It has a good size paddle on an off-center shaft that whips potatoes. Really a nice place. Seems too good to be true and I hope to break myself of the habit of grabbing my mess kit when chow sounds. We eat on Monel covered tables and use dishes and cups. All this reminds me of OP tomorrow. Report at 5:30 AM to work until eight in the evening. I’ll be plenty sapped tomorrow evening.

I have found a number of pit passes since coming to Fort Lewis and the first made its appearance last Saturday night. We were given eight hour passes from five until one so me and my pal decided to go to Tacoma. Well we waited from five-fifteen until eight-thirty, almost three hours before we got on a bus. I swear the ticket line was at least two blocks long leading into a postage stamp shack with but a single clerk selling tickets. I, and plenty others were pretty disgusted. An eight hour pass and three were spent getting a ticket and waiting for a bus. Finally about 9 we got into Tacoma and had a whopping supper but had to wait an hour for that. Every little place and large too was packed with soldiers. And repeat the above process on trying to get a bus home then getting up at seven Sunday. Tonite I tried to go to the show but the line there was inexhaustible, and the canteens reminded me of the May Company on Saturdays or trying to play polo in a submarine. I guess that’s about all of my peeves except the rain and KP.

The latest dope is that we will be here for at least eight weeks of intensive training.

This chilly weather here seems to have helped my appetite and am eating more than usual.

Have had a case of infantigo for the past two weeks. It is beginning to subside and is a lot cleared up. I looked like a guy out of a comic magazine with my face spotted up with the violet stuff the doctor puts on it.

Well I guess this finishes another issue. Hope to take advantage of the library if it isn’t like the ticket lines.

Given this letter is about all grip, well I’ll be more cherry in the next one.

Maybe I could elaborate a little more on the corny. In the first place you see fellows from all kinds of outfits. There are plenty of ski troopers here all abundantly equipped for mountain warfare. They train on Mt. Rainier. Then the other day I saw droves of good mules that are used by the pack field artillery. Guns [175’s] are bundled up in 250 pound pieces and packed by these mules. Of course there are tanks, mammoth railroad guns and half tracks. Some of the queerest names are attached to them, I mean the half tracks (lugs on the back and wheels on the front) such as “Cozy Coffin”, “Coughing Coffin”, “La Muerte” and “Chattering Coffin” etc. Then there is the Air Corps.

Well better quit now. 5 is awful early and I’ve got to wake up myself.

Thanks so much for the box. See you in the next letter.

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,

8 March 1942

Dear folks:

I guess it’s about time I took myself in hand and began to start writing again. Sort of had a vacation last week being in San Diego. Fifteen of us were sent there for guard duty at the fire central station and it so happened that I was a KP man so I had every nite off and went to Gram’s during all my time off. It was a real visit with the folks and when I didn’t sit around with them Dick and I went out. We took in a couple of dances and a show and then Gram and I went to a show one nite. We had it so soft there that I hated to come back to Escondido. As we had no officer there we had only two meals a day; at ten and three so I was free from about four o’clock on, not much KP for fifteen men. My last nite there I stayed overnite with Gram. Dick seems pretty contented and I think he likes his job with Cudahy’s. He’s getting heavier and huskier and is a swell guy. The folks do everything for him. One afternoon as I was going to Grams, I met Dick on the ferry and he sure looked funny in his old clothes. He has a white cap with a little black bill that makes him look like an armchair engineer.

When I got back a carton of cigarettes and a box of candy from Pat and Uncle Harold were waiting for me. Some fudge that was broken up but good.

I’ve begun to read a good deal lately and by the way if you ever want to send me something make it a two-bit ‘pocketbook’. I got that book “Kabloona’ last nite and just finished reading Lewis’ ‘Mantrap’. Currently I’m about half through ‘Pride and Prejudice’ and last week finished “We Are Not Alone.’

Hope Minatare comes through in the states meet or did they get there? I read the clippings Hank sent to Dick. Also got Stub’s letter. Good to get it.

Well the war gets more involved and blacker for us, so it seems, by every communiqué. I can hardly believe it is almost spring already, but a spring that will make history. By the papers we are sending great reinforcements over but they are a mere dribble at present.

I’m just the same, had a pretty bad cold last week but it’s coming around now. Well I’m going to write to Pat and Katie and as I’m about out of news so will put the curtain now.

Love,

26 February 1942

Dear folks:

I’ve got a bad cold and don’t feel too hot but I better get your letters answered. Guess I got it during the last rain. Had a little fever so went to the doctor this afternoon, and he gave me some pills.

Suppose you have heard and read about the furor caused by the supposed planes over Los Angeles. Right after evening chow our battery fell in and moved to the coast. As I was on KP duty, didn’t go along so about 8 went to bed. Then about two thirty air raid sirens began to wail and a guard called the few who were left here to get out of the tents. I did pronto. Went back to bed soon, then got up at four to take chow to the fellows about 30 miles away. We drove without lights and several times we narrowly escaped several cars. All of southern California was blackened out. It was very exciting as all kinds of rumors were going around. What scared me a little was the guard who shot out the ground lites when he couldn’t find the switch. The battery has come back today.

Hope to get to San Diego next Saturday but unless things quiet down, don’t know whether it will go thru.

Yesterday was on KP duty from four in the morning until twelve at night so I was pretty tired. However was allowed to sleep til twelve today.

It would be swell to have some of you come out for a while. Hope I am still here so it will come true.

I think Dick is pretty happy here and he will be more so when he is working and makes a decision. You know, probably he is working now at Cudahy’s for 70 cents an hour, nine hours a day.

I’m pretty pooped tonite so I’m going to quit with a promise. I’ll do better next time.

Love,

18 January 1942

Dear Folks:

The end of another Sunday and a new week about to begin. Strangely though I kind of like to see Monday come because there is so little to do all day. Went to church this morning which made me feel much better all day. Was off yesterday afternoon of course so slept but in the evening went to town and ordered a big meal of everything I wanted regardless what it cost. We had T-bone steaks and peas and all the rest. It cost me a buck twenty but it was worth it. Later went to the show which finished the day. Sunday I was latrine orderly which means digging holes. All of the battalions live in tents now in the park. It’s something new to learn the first time a guy uses a trench. Our showers and washroom are in the old ladies restroom and the medics are in the bathhouse of the swimming pool. Living in tents isn’t bad, a good plan to sleep and a good airing in the daytime, but a little inconvenient to use a latrine with no roof in a cat and dog rain. Guess I’m seeing a little more Army life now.

Called up June tonite but Gram wasn’t there. We talked a long time and June said they would try to come up next Sunday.

Of course I’m disgusted about the box. I went to the post office here and they checked all they could but said that without the number of the insurance slip they could do little. Guess it must be at San Luis Obispo someplace. Guess maybe you better get a claim on it. Must be something wrong to keep no better account of an insured box than that.

Got Dad’s nice long letter and a joy to read. You are doing very good. My ribs are okay now but taking off the tape was no joke.

Got a letter from Glen Chambers and Jim Sandison today. Especially good to hear from Sandy. He’s a right guy if there ever was one.

This is about everything. I’m getting heavier all the time and feeling better. I get pretty depressed trying to wonder when all of this will be over, but when it is, coming back will be all the better.

Don’t you worry and soon again we’ll all eat popcorn and apples around the fire.

Love,