Moss Letters

WWII Letters

18 September 1943

Dear Folks:

If I don’t write soon you will think I have evaporated or something.  The fact is, I am the same as ever except I forget to write as often as I should.  But while I have failed to write, the situation has been good the other way.  Yesterday a book from Gram came and that added a good deal of morale to my life.  She had to send to Minnesota for it, but she got it.  With the ones I have now I don’t worry about something to do in the evenings.  If I should move or leave I will leave them with a civilian friend who can mail them to me.  I suppose you have wondered what has happened to the razor I said I sent.  Well after I had it wrapped ready to go there was the matter of rewrapping it after the censor was through with it.  In the interim I started using it again so I still have it.

I haven’t been to a show in a couple of weeks so I think I will take the night off and see one, even if it is the corniest horse opera ever produced.  The shows have been pretty fair lately but once in a while they throw in an old number and I mean old.  In a short time ‘Macbeth’ on the stage will be on the island and I hope I will be lucky enough to see it.  Tomorrow is another Sunday and I hope to go to town for services.

Two Free Presses came yesterday and they added the usual bright spot to the week.  It’s really interesting to follow the hometown from a long viewpoint, and see where the fellows scatter out to.  Geo Butler seems to be getting his share of the fighting from what he wrote.  All those guys coming home on furlough kind of hit the soft spot, but I shouldn’t complain considering what some of them are putting up with.

I started this letter last night and now Sunday morning I’m still trying to finish it.  What halted me last night was a bridge game, which for once was a winner.  I’ve been wondering every day if I’m an uncle yet.  I suppose I am by now.  I’ve been waiting for a telegram or something.

This is pretty much of a flop for a letter but I guess it will fill in the gap until I can get a better one off.  I’m always looking forward to the day when we can all get together again and forget all this mess that we’re in.

Love,

Harold Moss Signature

11 September 1943

Dear Folks:

Received your letter today and realized I hadn’t written you for sometime.  The time to me has been flying and when I look back at the time I have spent here it doesn’t seem possible.  I’m beginning to feel like a native.  The past week has been a good one and much less monotonous than many.  Swimming is now an often occurrence for the battery and I try to go whenever we have a detail.  I’m many shades darker than I have been before and if I keep up at this pace, I’ll pass for an Hawaiian.  This afternoon instead of swimming at the beach we went to the pool and once I dove off the high board and instead of cutting the water like (a) knife, hit it like a board, and now my legs still feel a little hot.  On some days the sun is very hot and it is possible to burn in a few minutes, quite a bit different than the sun at home, and dangerous if caution is not used.

The two books have now both arrived and I’m right in the middle of one of them.  Maybe you think they are dry and dull but they are full of interest to me.  I have two more coming, one from Gram and one from Washington (guess I just as well take (them) up their offers).  Maybe I should tell you a little more about the Washington friend, I guess I never have.  I met her at the Service Club in Ft. Lewis on a Saturday night, and we got to talking and joking and finally developed this meeting into quite a friendship.  She is pretty prominent there and is State President of the American Legion Auxiliary I believe as well as in other affairs.

Last Sunday I went to church in town and enjoyed the services very much, I hope I can go tomorrow.

I hate to send you a letter as poor as this but I hope you will overlook it and know a better one will be coming.  You know sometimes you feel like writing and again at other times it’s quite a task.  Well this night is one of the latter kind.

Lots of love,

Harold Moss Signature

1 September 1943

Dear Folks:

Although I just wrote you last night I guess another letter won’t be wrong after I laid off for a while.  After recall we usually manage a volleyball game with teams from the other offices, then follow it up with a shower before supper.  Now that I have showered and ate, I feel pretty good and ready to relax or get in a bridge game tonight.  With the abundance of avocadoes on the nearby trees we usually have one for dinner and supper, although I can’t remember ever eating one in the states.  Well the school kids are starting school again and everyday the little Japs etc trapaise by on the road on the long walk home.  They look about the same anywhere I guess.  I saw a class of small children at the Catholic parochial school and what a variety of brands.  From the whitest to the blackest and shades in between.

Tomorrow is my day off and while I’m in town I think I’ll have the photographer work on me.  Perhaps I can make the pictures suffice for Christmas presents.  My friend in Washington is sending me a book—she always writes regularly and I consider her a very close friend.

I hope my allotments are arriving regularly and in the right amounts.  Being so far away from the War Department offices we have many cases of incorrect and delayed allotments and I wouldn’t want to have them get messed up.  Handling these things, together with other personnel work is the job that I am in, and I think it is one of the most desirable jobs in the regiment.

My Reader’s Digest came yesterday but it immediately starts the rounds in the billet and so far I’ve just read the jokes and shorts.

And of course the first of the month is that day that we are rewarded for efforts, payday, so I suppose the dice and cards will see plenty of action tonight although our billet seldom gets away from the bridge games long enough to try their luck.

I guess I’m like everyone else in enjoying the Free Press and especially the comments about the servicemen.  Now perhaps I can keep track of those monkeys that made high school and after, the clutter of mischief and fun that those years were.  I think I’d rather see Bill Emick more than any other one fellow.  I wonder when you were digging around among the stuff I left you, came across my old model planes.  You know I get a hankering to get out a bottle of glue and wood and start on another one.  I guess the gas model is pretty well beat up, but I wouldn’t be surprised if I someday patched it up again, even if my glasses are an inch thick.

I heard a broadcast of Winston Churchill’s speech from Canada last night and also the Pope’s today.  It seems pretty certain that the culmination of the war is in the home stretch, and our turn to swing the final punch, but too much optimism is not good.

The mountains look beautiful in their purple robes as the sun goes down, and the ocean is deep blue and quiet, so I’ll get in this mood too and take it easy for the rest of the night.  I guess this (is) goodnight and the end of another column.

Love,

Harold Moss Signature

18 February 1943

Dear Dad:

I received your typewritten V-mail today and to attest to my vow of early reply, here I come.  Your letter was very interesting and I took a long time reading it. Your free style manner of detail and continuity add a punch of zest and life.  Anyway I like ‘em bushels and you should write more often.  In case you haven’t guessed, to write a lengthy and appealing letter over here is quite a task and often I quit in disgust.  I hope you liked what I sent a while back but I think you will go more for what I sent yesterday.  As a result I am on a precariously balanced budget for the rest of the month, but that is nothing new.  And I had a great deal of satisfaction in sending them. I’m drawing seventy-nine bucks every thirty days now so I plan to increase my allotment to about thirty-five dollars.  By the way I’m a corporal now.  That’s where the extra dough is coming from.  I hope the bonds have started to come regularly now.  Tonight, or the forepart of it, was very unusual.  For the first time in the Army I got into a bridge game and by a real stroke of luck came out on top.  It was contract so I did more guessing than anything else.  My partner and I worked together like a pistol and a wheel.  Today two Free Presses came but I couldn’t figure out the handwriting on the wrapper.  The Reader’s Digest also came.  Since the latest postal regulations, mail has been slower and not so frequent but on the whole it is pretty good.  Perhaps you wouldn’t think it would get very chilly here but I’m using an overcoat and raincoat along with three blankets.  If I had a mattress it would seem much warmer though.  In my estimation a bed is man’s best friend and when I get home I’m going to stretch in all four directions at one time.  The war news seems to be changing color every day and I’m earnestly reviving hopes of a homecoming in early 1944.  This is the end of the communiqué tonight.  In a way I hate to stop but I couldn’t think of anything anyway.  I’ll buy you a banana leaf hat for your garden this summer.

Love,

Harold Moss Signature

17 February 1943

Dear Folks:

I just got back from pass only a little while ago and now before I do anything else this evening maybe I can get to writing you once again.  But before I got back I departed with a goodly share of my lettuce (money) gone.  I found the table covers that you wanted and hope that they will be to your liking.  They showed me two kinds and I couldn’t make a choice so I bought both.  They cost a good deal so they should be pretty good.  But that wasn’t the end of my shopping.  I saw several other things that I thought might look nice around the Moss manor, so kept on going.  Besides the cover, there was a pair of trunks for Phil, a salt and pepper set, a sewing kit and a small souvenir surf board.  I almost bought dad a banana leaf hat but I ran out of dough too soon.  I’ll do that next month.

Aside from this bit of shopping I saw a show and ate a couple of my favorite lettuce and tomato sandwiches.  I called it a day on this and rode the last bus back to camp.  The bus was packed to the windows with school kids and it was only a great deal of twisting and squeezing that I got on and off.  Supper was especially good tonight with chicken and noodle soup topped off with biscuits.  Apparently the butter shortage is biting us too, for we haven’t had any for quite a while now.  One thing that is very frequent on the diet is dehydrated foods that you have probably read quite a bit about.  Eggs for an example are somewhat stronger than the fresh but it is scarcely noticeable after a few helpings.  Cabbage, onions and potatoes are others.  The other day at the kitchen I noticed a discarded beef carton with the Cook Packing Company of Scottsbluff written on the side.  During mess it was announced that any complaints about the braised beef should be carried to me, when they found out I am a Nebraskite.  I guess this is everything for this communique tonight.  Everything is getting brighter and the dawn won’t be far off now.

Love,

Harold Moss Signature

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,

Harold Moss Signature

12 January 1943

Dear Folks:

It’s high time I got around to writing you again.  Been several days now.  Time seems to slip by faster than I can keep up with it.  Was on pass today and saw a couple of things in a store that I thought you might like so they are on the way.  I mailed them from a store so let me know if you get them.  Quite a while back I sent Dan a knife among some things for you.  Did you get it?  You never said but I suppose you have.

Here I am at the end of the first paragraph and I’m stymied already.  Had a letter from Katie today and it was full of pep and life.  Said she mailed me a picture of her and Tom but I haven’t gotten it yet but it takes quite a while I guess.  The gal in Washington is very faithful in writing.  Had a picture from her yesterday.  I sure miss the midnight turkey we used to have.  Sunday afternoon took in the civilian dance and had some fun and arranged for some in the future.  Just a few minutes ago came back from the show.  Having movies every night helps a lot.  I was going to put in another request for something but I see that packages from the mainland have been curtailed except on request from an officer.  Lately I’ve been reading some law books and have read all in the library in town and can’t get anymore that I want.  That’s why there has been fewer letters.  I get to reading and forget to write.  Saw “This Above All” last night but didn’t go for the film version as much as the book.  The ending especially seemed to dampen its dramatic punch.

I hate to nip this off in this stage but I can’t do very much about it.  It’s hard as heck to write a letter.  I’m really feeling fine and getting a lot of good grub and developing a stenographer’s spread working in the office.  Tomorrow night means the weekly battery get together in the rec hall. They are quite a bit of fun and everyone that comes seems to have a good time.  I’ve almost forgotten what winter is like although it gets pretty cool in the evenings and early morning.  I’ll stick myself with a pin where it will do the most good and write more often.

I want to get back to all of you as soon as possible and when I do I won’t take anything for granted as I did before.

Love,

Harold Moss Signature

4 January 1943

Dear Folks:

I guess a typewriter isn’t the approved method of writing a letter but I know you won’t mind so here goes.  After I get through writing everyone else, I end up the evening writing you and making a composite of everything I put in the others.  It’s amusing to watch the guys writing a letter.  It’s really a job and most of the time is spent trying to think of something to write about, one sentence or so then a fifteen minute brain scratching.  Today was a red letter day for mail—eight was the combined total and among them was a card from the Conklins and a card and a letter from Gracie and Louie.  She didn’t intimate that they were nearing the rocks—perhaps everything has been smoothed over.  Had a letter from Katie and she told me about the pajama and nightgown swiping.  Said she’d never forget those first two nights.

On the first had a free day and spent most of it at a USO dance that was well stocked with she-males for a change.  They last from one to five in the afternoon and usually the music is furnished by an army swing band.  There are a lot of jitterbuggers and an oiled seaman or two are the life of the party.  I guess this guy with the oversized arrow makes a living spearing fish.  I saw them doing it one day but isn’t as glamorous as pictured and they don’t run around that raw.  (Must be referring to the native spear fishing on the stationery).

I feel pretty good tonight.  First there was a nice batch of mail and then I read about Halsey’s forecast of the war.  For some reason I really feel that I’ll be out in another year and that really isn’t so long.  I’m even looking forward to staying up all night next New Year’s.  But right now it’s really hard to imagine wearing civilian clothes again and doing things on your own time schedule.  When that day does come I think we’ll all go nuts for a while.

Had a letter and a picture from the gal in Washington but that was purely platonic and she was more of a conversationalist than a romanticist.  But she was really swell and I don’t think I’ll ever forget her.  She was a cook in the nurse’s mess hall and I miss the midnight meals we used to have.

I’m still reading some law books and have digested three so far but I don’t know how much I have gotten from them.  At least it won’t do me any harm and it’s a worthwhile pastime in the evenings when I’m not writing to you.  If I go back to school that’s what I’m going to study.

This is it tonight, what there is of it.  Should have a letter from you tomorrow.

Goodnight and I’ll see you in the next letter.

Love,

Harold Moss Signature

2 January 1943

Dearest Folks:

I’ve really been slackening up writing you and I don’t know why-guess time is going faster than I realize, but lately I have been working in a personnel office and there are many things to find out that I didn’t know.  It’s pretty good work—I hope I like it and make out good.  Cinemas are available every night here and instead of staying in the billet, writing and reading like I should, I takeoff for the theatre and swat mosquitoes between shifting my aching posterior.  The one tonight was a solid murder muddle.

Yesterday was one of those days again that mean a little respite from the routine—it was the first and I was on pass.  Ate a good heap of grub then took off for town.  Went to the dance at the gym and for the first time the ratio of she’s to he’s wasn’t so great as the last time.  Went quite a few rounds and almost didn’t make it back in time.

Here are a few pictures I took when I was on pass.  The pictures of the stage and the meal were all taken during the ‘luau’ that I told you about.  Most of the fellows seem to be surveying the offering with a quizzical curiosity.  I took one of myself with a tentacle of squid dangling from my mouth but apparently it didn’t turn out.  The hat I’m wearing is a native boy’s version in palm leaves of a Dobbs cross-country.  In some of the pictures you can see the cloud formations I was telling you about.

I had a letter from Dick a few days ago sent from Oklahoma but he didn’t say enough to tell much what he was doing.  I hope the next one will be a little more comprehensive.  Had a two page manuscript from Gram and a card from the Peters.  I never have answered any of the cards sent to me for Christmas and I better make a resolution and do something about it.

It’s really hard to write a letter-or at least it is for me-so little happens that is not patterned and too, I can’t mention everything.  But things are very comfortable, good housing, good food and enough facilities for recreation.  That’s my version although it might not be everyones.  There are all kinds of predictions pro and con on the war topic but the news seems to be looking up-at least as we hear and read it-and I believe it is, although what is ahead will undoubtedly be the toughest.

Now I’m coming to the end of this and that’s always the most difficult part—how to end a letter properly.  Maybe I won’t be so crude and unconscious of the time and trouble mixed in my recipe for the last twenty years or so when this is over.  I know I want to get back and go to school again.  I think about you all the time.  Goodnight.

Love,

Harold Moss Signature

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,

Harold Moss Signature