Military food Archives - Moss Letters

14 September 1945

Dear Folks:

Well I’m still on Okinawa and still waiting. We are supposed to leave either tomorrow or Friday for the Personnel Center but I’m afraid it may be postponed until next Monday. It’s still the old waiting game and the old cry ‘no transportation’. The harbor is so packed with ships you could hardly throw a stone without hitting one, and the airfields are running over with planes – but still there’s ‘no transportation’. Sometimes it’s hard to contain yourself. I heard today that some kind of a congressional investigation is underway about it – I hope so. Everybody seems concerned about it. Certainly no large numbers of eligible personnel are being shipped out of here – I believe the number is very small since VE day. I can’t for the life of me figure why everything moves so slow. Well that’s enough about that, and that’s the way I sit now. Let’s hope it won’t be postponed any further.

My life is very monotonous these days. It’s more a matter of keeping out of sight and trying to find something to do to pass away the time. Yesterday I rode down to the Personnel Center to attempt to pick up some rumors, but couldn’t find out much. Then a little later went on to Yontan Airfield. It has been hot and dry the past two days but in this place we may have a cloud burst in five minutes.

Chow is still terrible but yesterday we had two fresh eggs for breakfast. Now I suppose it will be another month before we get anymore.

A couple of nights ago seven Japs got into one of the neighboring battalions and injured several guards. The guys killed three of them and next morning found one of them was a woman dressed in full Jap uniform.

Well I believe that’s all. Plan to go to a show in a little while and then call it another day.

Love,

7 September 1945

Dear Folks:

Better write you while I can still do it. It appears pretty definite that we will leave either Monday or Friday of next week. And I don’t think we will be in the personnel center more than three or four days. Life is pretty easy right now as far as work goes, but the waiting is pretty tough. I will go to Fort Logan, Colorado to be discharged, and will get travel pay from there to Minatare. I thought it might be nice for you to meet me in Denver, but after thinking it over, I think it would be better at home. Reading in Time magazine it looks like about everything will be plentiful by Christmas time.

I’m in not too good a mood tonight and for several reasons. I don’t like to tell you about them but sometimes I just get so fed up and peeved I feel better by writing. Maybe it was the heat today – it gets hotter than the devil and you sweat like a washrag just laying down or doing nothing. And to add to it the food is terrible. I can’t understand it. Tonight was beans [lima] and sauerkraut and coffee. And it’s like that day after day. I don’t know who gets it but when they tell you the good food goes to the combat troops don’t believe them. Since we have been in combat from June 1944 it has been that way. But the biggest thing that gets me worked up is to read about the Blackhawk Division back in the States from Europe after 46 days at combat and less than 6 months overseas putting up a bitch about being sent to the Pacific. That takes a lot of guts. A large number of the men in this battalion have been overseas three years and through as much combat as any and yet they have no idea when they will get home. And yet men with 45 points don’t get overseas service. Go through three combats or more and yet have no assurance of getting home. My 85 will get me back soon but the guys with less than 80 I sure feel sorry for. And yet they want to cut the draft and give the guys already here more service. The troops over here have taken the beating and lived in places where no white people have been, and taken what the army has left over, and when the war is over, tell them you aren’t through yet. You know how I feel about the situation. Some of those European troops weren’t over long enough to feel homesickness. Well those are my sentiments.

Had two letters yesterday one from Dad and one from Mom. Both very good. I was surprised to hear how well your store is going, and I can tell you have bigger things in mind. I am certainly proud of you and admire you for the courage to do it. And I feel like [if] you do that, it can grow into a big success. I know you are the right guy that has the stuff to deal with people and build up a good reputable business, and I know that when you get ready to leave it, it won’t go to pot, because the Moss boys will take care of that. I feel like I have a lot to say about it but I’ll save it until I get home.

I think I told you not to write any more. It feels good to write a letter without knowing an officer will be looking it over later. I know a lot of letters will have some torrid stuff in them now that censoring is off.

Last night I went to USO stage show that I didn’t think was so good. But there was three girls in it, so I guess it was worth going to. We have a pretty nice stage considering it was built and designed and built by GIs. Kay Kyser’s show was plenty good, full of a lot of laughs, and pretty gals.

An organ is playing on the radio right now – some tunes that make me half way feel like bawling. It seems almost too good to realize I’m going home. Now I’ll have [to] get used to Nancy grown up, and Philip too. Had a letter from Phil and he said it was possible he might see me, but I’m afraid it’s too late. I’d almost stay another week to meet him. He may be in for some time yet, but he will probably get leaves pretty frequently. Said he wished he had gotten married while he was still in the States.

I hope you got to see Dan Gettman. He’s a good hard working kind, but a little slow. Friendly as the devil.

Well I’m going to knock off for tonight. I don’t know exactly which letter will be the last but it may be this one. But if a week goes by and no letters [come], keep in earshot of the phone because I am probably on my way.

Love,

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,

28 June 1945

Dear folks,

I’m so tired I could drop but before I do perhaps I can get a short letter off to you. The end of an operation always means a lot of paperwork in way of reports and decorations, so now I’m catching it.

I’m still looking at the pictures you sent whenever I get a little time to myself. Mom looks like she is worrying more than she ought to. I’m very proud of you in your Nurses Aid uniform and like to show it around. I hope in a few months I can remove that worried look or at least some of it. And things seem to indicate that it won’t be long before I can see you. I was awake till twelve last night going over in my mind how it will be when I see you first. Perhaps it will soon be a reality.

I hear we are getting a PX tomorrow, perhaps I can get something besides regular chow.

I wish I could think of something more to write about but I think I better fold up for tonight and perhaps the next one will be some better.

Love,

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,

4 June 1945

Dear Folks:

I’m sitting in a little office tent feeling miserable as the water continually pours down and makes the ground a spongy mass of wet clay. It’s too wet to work and while I’m loafing around perhaps I can answer some of the letters I got today. Today was a good day to get mail, when practically the only bright spot in the day, was a letter. I had one from Mom, one from Dad and one from Dick. Mom’s was very recent and Dad’s was a little older. Maybe if I can go through them again for the nth time, I can find something to write about.

I know how good it must have been to see Phil and I’ll bet he looked very good. Probably he is married now, and you gave him the present from me that I mentioned. I think your attitude is the best one – about letting him get married. Personally I like the idea fine.

I’m glad Dick wrote you such a nice letter. He’s a swell guy and really appreciates things more than appears on the surface. Was glad to hear from him today and I’m expecting that we can soon get together under peaceful circumstances.

But opposite the bad news and miserable weather is the good news that the troops are going great guns on Okinawa. I think it’s about over and one more campaign gone by. I hope I have seen my last one.

I remember Everly Gibbons alright and the last I heard of him, he was a captain in the army. I always did suspect him of being a little abnormal but from the story in your letter, he must have went whole hog.

I remember Dad’s letter about the Youmans-Harris fund and I can imagine the waves of gossip it must have created. My opinion of Mrs. Youmans is getting worse every day – perhaps their money they used to have, detracted from what she was really made of.

Maybe it was a good thing Dad cautioned about just walking in because I had actually thought of doing such a thing, although I doubt if I could keep the news myself if it ever came.

My chief evening diversion is getting to be working crossword puzzles. The medical sergeant got a book from his wife, so me and a Chinese may borrow it and scratch our heads while they play cards. We think we’re getting pretty sharp at it but we ran into a tough one last night. The aid station has lights so we go there.

I’m not sure but I think we’re going to cook up some of our odds and ends of rations tonight. I think we have a can of bacon, some peaches, a little grape juice, and perhaps get a little bread from the kitchen. Quite a treat.

Well, I think I’ll write to Dick before supper then grab a shower and besides I’m out of something to write about, so I’ll call this good.

Love,

26 April 1945

Dear Dad:

It seemed such a treat to get your letter today that I thought I would address this one to you, even though you know it is for you both. Well a few minutes ago I finished typing the daily newssheet and have my lead arranged ready for the evening. Also for tonight we had a can of bacon leftover from our rations and I see my buddy has the stove out so we’ll probably have quite a treat tonight. That bacon in cans is very good stuff. This guy I bunk with I’ve known for a long time, and we have become close friends, although at times we use words on each other. He is from Kansas where his father has a large wheat and cattle ranch. He is very likeable and always cheerful, as a matter of fact he keeps my spirits up. He is married and I think I know about everything about his wife. His name is Cliff Blount just in case sometimes you may want to know.

On the island here there’s quite a number of horses and lately it has become the fad to get one of your own and ride him after supper. The battery looks more like a calvary outfit and often we have a short rodeo for a laugh. I did a little riding but I don’t go for it like some of these guys.

Your letter today was interesting and full of good comment. You are doing a good job and I know our absence has made both of us wiser and more appreciative although it worked more on me. I was glad you got my letter about being in Okinawa but know it will make you more anxious. It won’t last too long and then I’m sure we will have it easy for a while including shows and a little beer. Talking about horses and everything you probably can’t reconcile it with combat but there is the other side alright. About every evening the Japs start shelling and a shelling is nerve wracking but aside from the time one landed about 35 yards away, they haven’t been too close. Several men were only five or ten feet from the shell and came out unscratched so you can see the good of a foxhole. It doesn’t take you long to dig in. Haven’t seen Dick for a few days but hope he can stop by soon. He told me Diz Carroll had already had enough war. The reason the bonds sometimes arrive late is because they are sent only when we are paid and occasionally we can’t be paid every month.

I know you would like to see your business continued and especially to have one of us take. I know what it means to you regardless of what you say in your letters. I think we will keep it going and if Minatare can weather any decline after the war, I agree with you that it has many possibilities.

I think I wrote about Ernie Pyle’s death and it was a blow to everyone. Just when he was about to tell homefolks about the Pacific war. I’m sure the men in Europe will find the war here much different. No prisoners here, it’s dig them out and exterminate like cockroaches. I don’t mind if Mom puts my letter in the paper that I first wrote but I don’t think it is much of a letter. I was really not in a literary mood and could have made it much better.

Well it’s getting pretty dark and we are to do the bacon frying before dark so I better ring off for another time.

Love,

22 April 1945

Dear Folks:

In keeping with my promise to write often here is another letter. I was told today that a Red Cross message had been received, which was sent by you. I know how you must be worried and what a strain it is on you, much more so than you indicate in your letters. But I am really fine and feeling well and in little danger. I’m sure before the year is over I will be home then all this period of worry about me will be over. I can well imagine how you feel with Phil gone, but we’ll have to ride it out, and remember it is always darkest just before the dawn. So believe me Mom, I’m okeh.

Today was Sunday but it was noon before I realized it. I had intended to write a slug of letters today but something always came up to keep me from it. Getting the news each day for the paper takes some time and in addition I collect individual stories for the hometown papers. Anyway about four, I managed to get a bath such as it was, so now I feel pretty good. For dinner today we had steaks, yes, good fresh steaks. Some of the boys killed a cow and they did a good job in butchering and cooking it. We are eating from the kitchen which beats cooking your own rations.

They say the good souvenirs on this island are lacquer vases and dishes, supposed to be rare collector’s items. I hope I can manage to find some, although Dick and I resolved not to hunt military souvenirs as it is sometimes too dangerous and it’s getting too close to rotation to be taking any chances. In Dick’s jeep the other day, he already had a candry sword taken from a Jap they killed near his foxhole.

I rode through the civilian camp the other day and had a close look at the people. Almost all of them are really young or very old, the rest behind the Jap lines. The old people are sorry sights. Their skin is deep wrinkled, they are bent over, and they look all the worse for the black clothes they wear. They are unemotional although some bow low from the waist as though we were Jap gods or something. I guess they are cooperative and harmless. The young children smile and wave or laugh. Our troops hardly notice them and probably they will be better off than ever after it’s all over.

Well I’m going to amble over to the radio for awhile and hear a little music and shoot a little bull, then get ready to turn in.

So much for this time.

Love,

21 April 1945

Dear Folks:

So much mail has been coming in from you folks that I would feel like a heel if I did not write you every opportunity I have. This has been a fairly quiet day and it looks like tonight before dark I might have time to get a few letters off. Some of the boys killed a hog so for supper tonite we enjoyed pork – good treat it was.

I was sorry to hear that you did not get the sandals but in talking to some of the fellows they said that perhaps the hemp used in them might contain insects or germs. I couldn’t tell from your letters whether you received the bolo knife complete with the case or what. Dad said only the handle came and Mom sounded like the whole thing arrived. I don’t wonder that you don’t understand how it is used but a Filipino almost builds his life around it. He can build a house, split coconuts, get food with it and fight with it. Even the smallest boys carry one. I know you would have liked the sandals.

In your letters were many clippings which I’m always anxious to get. I think that in as much as the Free Press is many months in coming it would be a good idea to put a copy in an envelope and mail it first class – in that way it is somewhat recent.

In connection with requests here is another. I’m publishing a battalion newspaper and it is to be run off on the mimeograph. Now the request is this. In order to reproduce headlines and column headings onto a stencil we need print letters which are usually cut out of cellulose so they can be traced onto the stencil. There may be other means that I don’t know about but that is one. So when you are in ‘Bluffs perhaps, LeRoys or Rominger’s or a stationary and supply house, could fix me up.

No, I haven’t received the packages you mailed last February but perhaps these will come through.

On today’s mail I had two letters each from Mom and Dad, and I wished I was allowed to tell you how fast they came. I would certainly like to get home now when spring is beginning to green the land and to see the house.

Yes, I was certainly shocked at the President’s death and undoubtedly he will rank as one of the world’s greatest men. And Ernie Pyle too. I understand he was here on Okinawa for awhile before going to Ice Island. He was buried in the army cemetery there along with GI’s he wrote so skillfully about.

I think your letters are very good Dad, contrary to your occasional reference to their inferiority, and I know it isn’t always easy to write. I gather that your business is doing good and I’m sure it is. I knew you could do good when you got the opportunity. So much has happened since I left – more probably than you realize.

I haven’t seen Dick in the last 2 days. He is very busy to say the least. He is certainly a good kid and he is all around okeh. And the Army is not coercing him. I will let you know when I see him again.

Had a letter from Nancy today and from the more mature tone of her letters, I can hardly reconcile her to the youngster she was when I left. It is beginning to look like the Mosses are getting romantically inclined. I think Dick is more than interested in Helen Emick and I would certainly like him to promote that gal. I’m aching for the quietness, contentedness, and satisfaction that I hope I can soon have in my own home. I’m developing into a family man and I hope before too many years, a part of that ambition will materialize.

Love,

7 April 1945

Dear Folks:

For the first time in the past several days I have some unused time on my hands and also the censor has permitted us to write about what has been happening to me, so there is two good reasons to write. I would like to make this a good long account so you could picture better just what this place is like, but I don’t feel like writing very much, so later perhaps I can explain things more fully (later). In the first place I’m on Okinawa in the Ryukus. Was expecting the same old things as in other Pacific Islands, that is coconut trees, cane fields, and hot sweating days. I was surprised to find it much different. The best way I can think to describe to you what the island is like is by comparing it to the City Park in Denver. From a rise or a hill the landscape looks like broad rolling lawns with green hedges patch working the scenery. Each family has about two acres for a farm and every inch of that two acres is carefully planted in neat little patches no bigger than your own garden. A little plot here has barley, while others have carrots, cabbages, onions, and some cane. Of course we’ve made good use of the fresh vegetables and it is no doubt at all to cook up an evening stew of cabbage, carrots, onions, potatoes, and lettuce. Everything is in miniature, and all in all the landscape is some of the best I have ever seen. Something else uncommon to anything else I’ve seen, is the tombs used by those people who believe in ancestor worship. The tombs are located on hillsides with a vault opening to the inside and with a small courtyard in the front. They are scattered all over, located near the farm of each family. They remind me of pictures I’ve seen of Forest Lawn Cemetery in Los Angeles.

And finally after quite a long time some cool weather, at least it seems very cool to us. I guess it seldom gets less than fifty at nights but it takes all I have to keep warm, and the days are hot, the hot humid tropical kind. But it’s invigorating and maybe it accounts for my feeling some better and eating. Well there is a brief description, but as time goes on, I’ll add more to it.

We came here from Leyte in the Philippines and the boat ride was rough, but plenty. In the past I couldn’t mention Leyte, only the Philippines. While on Leyte I visited Dulag, Tarragona, Albuera, Ormoc and Baybay among others. Perhaps you will remember Ormoc as the place where the Japs re-enforced. I guess that is enough about events.

I’m fine myself and feeling perfectly well, and I won’t take any chances I don’t have to, because having come this far I think perhaps the time won’t be too far off when I can see you. Very fortunately and thru the good judgment of our CO I have a cot, and it makes a world of difference. Well we’re cooking our own rations again, and it’s getting about time to warm up the stove. I see the cook has brought in and cleaned some carrots and has a big hunk of garlic.

I’ll write again soon and as often as possible.

Love,