Military food Archives - Page 3 of 4

5 October 1944

Dear Folks:

I haven’t written to you for six days now because in that time I have had the dengue fever and it does a pretty effective job of making you feel miserable and putting you out. My fever was up pretty good for the first few days and now it has gone although I still feel hot and have a red doppler rash. The fever hits your muscles and every joint aches, especially the small of your back. Was around today but felt too weak to do much. I think I weigh about one twenty-eight so I’m underweight a little. The menu consists largely of dehydrated foods and that scourge of the army ‘Spam’ and as I don’t eat them, don’t get fat. We have not had an ice cold drink or dessert in four months. Oh! but I do have beside me again tonight a bottler of Pabst beer and that will soothe my ruffled feelings. It is about as warm as a leftover dinner but I’m getting used to that.

Last night I received the letter about the proposed move to Bridgeport. I thought about going back home too but I hope Dad takes the job. I think it’s a darn good break and I’m sure Bridgeport will be a fine place to live. But as you said don’t move into a house that isn’t nicer than the one we have now. Dick and I will probably be here quite a while yet and you will have plenty of time to fix the place up, but it would be disheartening to not come back to the anything but the best. Minatare may fold up someday and the idea of living in Bridgeport sounds good to me. So I say go ahead and although we may not like it now we’ll like it more in the future. What will you do with the house and the store?

Had a letter from Dick last night. Good to hear from him. Well I’m plenty tired and feel weak so I’m going to stop for tonight.

Lots of love,

8 August 1944

Dear folks:

I have that comforting feeling that goes with a full stomach – we’ve just finished supper, and it wasn’t so bad considering the inexperienced chefs that prepared it. Our menu was especially made unusual by some fresh cucumbers that we gathered from a patch across the road. Along with these we had cocoa, corn beef, cold peas, and those biscuits that the Army insists have to be hard and tasteless. Tomorrow our kitchen will be inaugurated and it will be a relief to get some hot cooking. But perhaps what makes me feel so good this evening is that I have news from your front. Three of your letters and one from [illegible] so damn welcome and so eagerly read. I must have been doing more writing [illegible] if you received six from me in one week. But then you are about [illegible] with the exception of the Washington friend who writes me [illegible]. Yesterday had a letter from Betty S. Myers who it seems, intends [illegible]. And again there isn’t a lot to do in the evenings before dark and [illegible] uses up some time. I hope you have received my extra long one [illegible] time ago – I consumed the better fraction of an afternoon putting it [illegible] will answer a lot of questions you might have wanted answered. And for [illegible] sort of fun to describe to you all that I can and let you know all [illegible] I would give about a thousand dollars for a movie camera right now to [illegible] this, but cameras are on the ‘verboten’ list.

[illegible] dig out your letter and see what I can comment on. Well the first thing, [illegible] this operation will change Dick or myself noticeably – at least not me. [illegible) has seen enough sights of the worst nature but he’s just as jolly and matter of fact as ever. When he saw me during the middle of the operation he said he sure hated to go back in there, but knowing him probably he felt more than I thought. I think I [illegible] Garapan so I’ll skip that. Our ‘office’ is a lot different than the station- [illegible] we had on Oahu. We have a square [illegible] supported by four poles with nothing on the sides. To keep out the rain we nailed up sheets of tin taken from a blown up Jap barn but whenever it rains (and it does often), we usually run around putting up ponchos and shelter halves to keep from getting wet. The office work is pretty much streamlined but still there is much paper work to do. I am a lucky guy and have a cot that is nothing less than luxurious. Among other things the guys use to sleep on is stretchers, salvaged Jap beds, Jap mats, homemade beds and whatever you have. Our camp looks like a hobo jungle. And you asked about a PX. No we don’t have one but necessaries are issued gratis. I don’t think I’ve spent [illegible] three months [illegible] a nice paycheck I’ll have. We’re the guys that make the paychecks [illegible]. I hope you are getting my new [illegible].

[illegible] guys are [illegible] a jeep listening to sweet music from Frisco and some [illegible]. [illegible] guys the news at six o’clock at dictation [illegible]. [illegible] produced dissemination to other troops. Most of the [illegible] and news. An announcement this afternoon [illegible] and we heard a quoted portion of the new Premier’s speech [illegible]. In the evenings we sometimes get China and listen to music from night [illegible] broadcasts from Manila with the usual line.

[illegible] to knock off about here and walk down sunset boulevard to the Roxy.

Love,

28 July 1944

Dear Folks:

I haven’t received any mail for a couple of days but I guess that’s no excuse for not writing. Very little news the past few days – at least what I can write about. Haven’t seen Dick recently nor Jack Conklin either, but I believe we’ll have another little reunion again soon. Living together on a little island like this maybe you would imagine it wouldn’t be so hard to see each other – but it isn’t as easy as it seems. When I do get out it’s by the hitchhike method and it’s pretty good too. Lots of vehicles running around. On the northern end of the island they are still bringing a few snipers out and even now it’s not very safe to go nosing around, probably they will be (there) for sometime to come. Dick had a little celebration a few days ago he was telling me about. They slaughtered a calf and all enjoyed some good steaks. A few head of livestock are grazing around our area, but they look pretty scrubby and thin. This morning I put some heavy grease on my souvenirs, wrapped them up and now I’m wondering how I can send them to you. But I’ll get them back someway. When Dick finds anything he gives it to me because I can keep it a little better than he can. Saw a good show last night ‘Waikiki Wedding’ with Bing Crosby – drew a lot of comments having been in Hawaii for quite a while. The folks at home sure are deceived if they believe all they see. And again tonight we are having a show. Sounds like I’m having a vacation in the Marianas doesn’t it? I wished it was.

Are you getting my new allotment alright – I was wondering about it. Of course we haven’t been paid since we left Oahu so we’ll all be rich when we get back. I’ll bet this is a wild crew when they get back. They’d go really hog wild if they hit the states. That’s about all we think about – when and what we will do when that time comes.

Well it’s getting pretty dusk and we don’t enjoy the luxury of electric lights so I’m going to have to taper off. I’m really very well, getting lots to eat and today I even acquired that rare item called a cot. I should sleep like a tired baby. Things are getting a little safer and now we don’t stick so close to a foxhole as we used to – although I suppose we should. I guess I shouldn’t write tonight because I hardly know what time it is where you are. We try to figure it out. We are a day earlier than you being across the International Date Line, plus the hours difference from that line. Oh well maybe you can figure it up some day. I think it’s something like thirty-two hours. Well regardless of what it figures up to I’m still going to write goodnight. Dad’s mention of beer in his letter brings visions of greatest ecstasy, and even the thought of an ice cream cone throw me into delicious raptures. Well adios from an X Jap stomping ground.

Love,

20 September 1943

Dear Folks:

After that punitive letter I wrote yesterday, and the one I got from you today, I guess you well deserve another one immediately. For some reason your letter seemed to reflect a low spirit and maybe a little worried. I also have not heard from Dick for a month or so, but I thought he would write you regularly. I think it’s more this attitude than anything else. You know he never concerned himself too much with such matters. I will write him immediately and see what the score is. No, I don’t think it would do any good to send smokes to Dick—he never smoked any during our visit and I don’t think he does now. I know I should write you often to relieve your anxiety and although I don’t realize it as much as I should, I can imagine how you feel when no letters come. Of course it’s pretty verboten for me to express any opinions as to what may be in store but for the present things look pretty routine.

Only a little while ago I returned from pass but after spending the morning in town, gave it up for a bad job and came back to read and sleep. I make a daily effort to read at least two hours and I believe the result is definitely beneficial. The town seems pretty dead and I swim enough on Sunday afternoons.

I hope you don’t go to any great deal of trouble to find something for Christmas because there are so few things that I need or can use. I do remember one thing that you mentioned—and that was a ring. You always wished I had a good one.

‘Panama Hattie’ is at the theater tonight so better go. Our ‘theatre’ looks like an old gay ninety ‘bowery’ with the Hawaiian girls and signs painted on the walls. Something like the old curtain the Aladdin used to use.

Your letter seemed to touch me quite a bit, I don’t know just how but you all seemed pretty close when I read it. You are so good about everything, and I often feel that I haven’t done as well by you as I should have.

I can’t figure you out not liking avocadoes, because it seemed that I was always the one to turn down your inventions in the way of salads and new dishes. I like them very much and usually have some at dinner and supper. Yes, we use mess kits and I guess I’m like Dick in wanting to sit down at a table with a tablecloth and the food in bowls. And another pleasing prospect will be to use a tile bathroom again instead of the community stable that puts up a stifling stench to say the least. And we have chicken, usually on Sundays although the cooks, in my opinion, lack plenty in the way they prepare it.

I wish you (could) see the sunset as I see it now. The sky is aflame with purple and red setting down on the hills and the ocean. And to think that on the other side of that body of water is the mainland – ho hum. From the papers it looks like Duane C is receiving a round of good times on his furlough. I wonder if Margy is getting any fatter or more ill shaped. I hate to speculate on what our first reunion will be like, or maybe on the other hand the habits of the Army of sitting around in the evenings and chewing over the day’s business, will prevail, who knows.

Well it’s getting show time and my news line is exhausted so it’s so long until the next one.

Love,

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,

31 January 1943

Dear Folks:

Now is a swell time to get off a few lines to you when everything is quiet and another day is done. As usually happens I just got back from the show and saw a World Series game in the newsreels. Today was Sunday but I spent most of it behind a typewriter or in the office. It was a beautiful day to get out with a camera but I didn’t but in lieu of that, here is a picture that was taken when Joe E. Brown was here last week. Of course you can spot him in the center and if you look close in the left upper corner you can see me. I’m standing almost in front of the guy with the open jacket. I think it is a good shot don’t you? The portion of the building in the center background is our projection booth.

In a couple of days I will be on pass and will get the table set you mentioned. I’m glad my bonds have been arriving. I was beginning to get a little worried. Soon I will send you a Honolulu paper. Perhaps you would like one and on the other hand, maybe you can get a little more scope of the islands. I hope you have received the other things by now.

I really can’t think of much to write about except anything very perfunatory (?). Today we had a very swell dinner centered around delicious ham. Last night I attended a party at my old battery and was even called upon to give a speech. It was a good deal with lots of beer and the other accessories of cheese, etc.

Guess this is quits tonight. Wished I could think of something to end this properly but I can’t, but I do think about you all the time.

Love,

29 October 1942

Dear Folks:

I rang the bell today with three letters thanks to the ambition of Dick and Nancy and I’ll answer them ‘ poste roote’. All were V letters. For the past two weeks have been news fatherer for the outfit and when the next issue is pointed, I’ll send you the column to file among my service memories. News is as scarce as a Jap in Lockheed so probably most of my letters are repetition. Sure I get good grub. I’m still riding a wave of optimism concerning the war and hope I’m right. I can’t imagine it otherwise.

I can easily envision all the activity around the home site on Katie’s big day—just to meet Tommy would be something. Who’s going to say the words? And to have Gram and Gramp there will be something too.

Well Christmas is again at hand and so far I’ve had a time finding anything suitable although I’ll find something. Last Sunday went to church and our own too although the pews were warmed only by a major and two privates.

Guess I told you about the subscription to Time and The Reader’s Digest.

Sorry about the brevity of this but there isn’t any more—what a paltry of peas would taste like right now.

Love and goodnite,

8 July 1942

Dear Folks:

It’s about seven o’clock and I’ve just finished shaving and sprucing a bit and I feel pretty good so I’ll answer your letter of today and Saturday. Suppose the main topic is the fourth of July celebration. We were granted passes all day Saturday and Sunday and it seemed like a furlough. A bunch of us left about nine o’clock Saturday and went into Yakima about five miles. On the way in we were picked up by an old couple who were herding a dilapidated fruit truck of about ’26 vintage and before we had gone far the whole back end looked like flies on a molasses jar. Our first sergeant and his wife live in Yakima and previously he had invited some of us over, so we went there. I appreciate a bathtub all the more now because when we got there his wife had eight cases of beer frosted down by two hundred pounds of ice. We did it up in big style singing and carrying on. In the evening five of us got a hotel room then took in some dances. Yakima is certainly a pretty town, trees all over and many beautiful homes. And the people appear very friendly. Stayed in bed til Sunday noon then went to a show and came back 5:00 Monday morning. A swell weekend.

The country around here reminds me of the Platte Valley in many ways. From our camp site we get a good view of the checkered green fields and orchards but up on the hills on either side it is dry and barren. Our camp in relation to Minatare would be about three or four miles beyond Lake Minatare.

I’ll dig up your letter and answer some questions now. The first item—my money situation is good. We were paid the third and I had about $35.00 left after bonds and laundry cleaning were taken out. As a matter of fact we get better food here than at the Fort, plenty of salads, fruit, and fresh meat. Tonite for supper we had roast duck and Sunday turkey (I wasn’t here). When we first came I drank water constantly but now my consumption is about normal. At every meal we are given salt tablets and our food has an abnormal amount. We haul the water from the water tower and drink it from a lister bag supported on a tripod. Yes the cadre is still going I believe after we leave here, which is two weeks after this one, July 25. And we are five or six miles from Yakima. Some guy shuttles a bus back and forth but usually we get a taxi for thirty-five cents. I got the picture of you and Kate and I remarked about it most graciously in one of my letters. Perhaps you didn’t get one of mine. Don’t go out of your way for the cookies, I forgot about the sugar rationing. You said something about watermelon in your letter—well I went to a restaurant and ate plenty and everything else I liked. Furloughs still seem in the offing—an outfit that just left here in our division are on them now so it is told. Only fifteen days though.

Our holiday was marred by a tragic incident Saturday afternoon. A big strapping fellow from Missouri with a pleasing sublimity of the hill country drowned in the canal I told you about. The canal is V-shaped lined with cement and about ten or twelve feet deep and the only place where a fellow can get out is at ladders at about ½ mile intervals. The current is so swift that if you get beyond the ladder it is impossible to get out. The last time I was there another of our men almost went down and it took all of us to get him out. Consequently swimming is strictly verboten there but the battery furnishes us a truck every nite to go to the river. C battery is certainly getting the bad breaks. Last January a fellow was shot on guard duty and now this. The skipper (battery commander) took it very hard.

I actually feel better out here and have much more endurance. The heat is pretty depressing at times but it has been cooler the last couple of days. I’ve lost five pounds though.

Tell Quincy I’ll write her tomorrow.

Guess this is about all for this time—perhaps when I feel a little more literary bent, I can write that letter for the Herald. Wish I could see your new home and take advantage of your sleeping offer. Maybe next month, who knows. Say hello to Jim for me.

Love,

I haven’t heard from Wylma since last March 1^st.

31 May 1942

Dear folks:

I’m supposed to be a fire warden today but looks more like a small town philosopher, leaning back in my chair and taking it easy. This has been a sad weekend. Saturday being Memorial Day we were promised two days off with passes, but as you probably read in the paper, Stimson says the coast is in danger so our leave was cancelled and guards doubled and new ones added. Saturday I was on KP and what was left of the battery went on a 20 mile hike in the woods. Sunday (today) a hike of 25 miles was scheduled but because about everyone is on guard somewhere it was called off. We have guards in the halls, on the balconies and everywhere. This morning (Sunday) we had to fall out for reveille, something we don’t usually do. All of us were in bed when the fall-in whistle blew so plenty were AWOL for not hitting in the line in time. I was afraid my puttees would fall off any minute and my pants weren’t even buttoned. But I got by, I went on guard at ten this morning and will be on until six this afternoon. What a weekend! And then we didn’t get paid on time for some reason and haven’t got it yet. No money, no pass, no liberty I’m disgruntled. Oh well it can’t last forever.

I guess our outfit is being split up to take men for cadre positions. I’ve heard something is in store for me but I’ll write when it’s definite.

All this wonderful chow you read about in the papers is a lot of phooey as far as I’m concerned. Our rations get slimmer all the time. Once in a while we get good stuff but some meals are really terrible. Don’t think I’m not getting enough to eat or the right kind but the way it tastes sometimes is bad. Don’t think the army only uses grade A stuff either. Most of it is second quality.

(author switches from pen to pencil)

Well a couple of days have passed since I wrote. Guess you think I’m getting to be an agitator or something or maybe a guy isn’t a good soldier unless he’s crabbing.

Threw together the above so maybe I can add a little more to my army career.

Our outfit was reorganized lately and I was given a rating of corporal on the cadre. The cadre is a group of sixteen men chosen to form the nucleus as framework of a new battery. The rating will not go into effect until we are moved. I may go anywhere and the latest is to Michigan or the east where several new divisions are being organized. I’m hoping so. Or I may go back to California. Don’t know of course when the cadre will move but I believe it will be soon. My position is battery clerk.

Got Dan’s letter today. Will answer it tomorrow.

Will write again tomorrow so will cut this off here.

Love,

10 April 1942

Dear Folks:

Suppose you will be surprised by the series of lots of letters but I’ve had so much time to do nothing that letter writing becomes a good recourse when the time drags.

Finished my tour of guard duty at Carlsbad so I’m back in Escondido. Two letters were waiting for me—one from each of you. When you send me a box again will you include a heavy bath towel and perhaps a couple of hankies? I know you will send a box as you always have so I just as well make my suggestions. Some other things—hair shampoo, whole peanuts, that’s just about everything. I’m as proud as pie over the sweater and hate to have to wear it underneath. I can wear it on the outside only on unofficial formations.

Guess I’ll dig up your letters and take care of your questions. First—the actual temperature doesn’t seem to get so low but somehow the nights are very chilly and invariably we wear jackets and overcoats on nite guard duty, and then we still get cold. Yes, I sleep in my sleeping bag every nite. I would freeze without it—or I feel like I would. Usually in the evening we have a fire going in our little cone shaped stove so it’s comfortable in the tents. In fact your Easter card and the letter about the suit—take your pick—and I also hope Dad is making use of them. When the day comes that I will be handed that precious little document inscribed with the word ‘discharged’ I am going to wear different clothes everyday just to see what it feels like. Now that I got to thinking about it, it will seem odd very different to get back into civilian life. I never realized the freedom and privileges that I enjoyed. Suppose you will for awhile have to wake me with a bugle, blow a horn for chow and give me an inspection on Saturdays. How good it will seem to be relieved of the regulations of uniformity that we all follow.

Last Wednesday got a letter from Gram inviting me to a Nebraska picnic at Long Beach. Dick, Loyd, and June are going but I’m tied up, of course, so can’t attend! It does no good to make plans for anything—take your liberty as it comes and make arrangements later. Last nite a group of women with the Women’s Club in Vista entertained about forty of the soldiers to a dance and games in their clubhouse. I became entangled in a good bridge game with three of the town’s solid (+ solid) women who rank with the sharks. Of course I’m not acquainted with all the intracies and opportunities of the game but we got along pretty good and they were very gracious about my ineptness. They hung on all my words and finally we both recalled someone we knew in Scottsbluff so we became very chummy.

Another Sabbath tomorrow which means pancakes (a rare treat) for breakfast and church later. Besides pancakes-I also saw a boiler full of chickens so suppose we will have chicken for dinner with some good mashed potatoes.

I don’t know any Hoover in my battery although he may be in another battery of the battalion.

I see Dad you mentioned something of going to Alliance to see the army pass threw. Well I suppose a uniform would cause a mild sensation back there but out here they are so commonplace they are never noticed. Everyday convoys of trucks for miles in length pass through the town and P-38 interceptors, bombers and fighters fly over incessantly. Searchlights cut swatches of whiteness in the nights, and boys sit in rooms of sandbags keeping accurate logs of every happening along the coast. Troop trains sweep along, blackened out like a deadly animal and the yellow light of an alert flashes on once in a while. Rumors fly like confetti in a March breeze and the next most important topic is dope about furloughs and passes and (of course) women. I wish you could visit our battery and see what we do. Each move a vital cog in a big war wheel.

Well this covers about all from this news front and perhaps a little to much space so until the next letter.

Love,