Mud Archives - Moss Letters

1 June 1945

Dear Folks:

I haven’t written you for several days so I imagine you feel a little anxious. But the fact is, it has been so rainy and muddy that I couldn’t get myself to sit down to write. I think the worst part of the campaign is over, so you can feel much better. The hardest part has gone by for me, and I think the Japs are standing on their last legs now. For some time now there hasn’t been any shells come over, which is a great relief to me. And after the campaign is over, I think we will have it easy for a while, and get a little beer and movies.

Received a letter from Dad yesterday, about the only (thing) that has come in the past three or four days. Maybe the inclement weather has kept the mail planes down. Over 13” inches (of rain) fell in the past week, so you can imagine how the water must have been flowing around here. Contrary to the weatherman’s prediction that June 1^st would be the climax of the rain, today is sunshiny and sultry. Had a chance to get most of my stuff dried out. I had a lot of pictures in my billfold and they all got soaked. I have them laying in the grass now to dry out a little. But the sky always looks like another storm could break any time. Then they tell us the typhoon season begins around the 15^th. I’ve never been in a typhoon, but if they are like what I’ve seen in shows and read about, I’m not looking forward to them. But we’ll be expecting them and prepare for it.

Haven’t seen Dick or Duane since our visit quite a long time ago. But I know Dick is too far away to see me very conveniently. I don’t know where Duane is, but I’ll locate him after the island is secured. I wrote to Dick a week ago but haven’t heard from him yet. I’m sure he is okeh.

From my standpoint, nothing exciting has happened. Since the nights the Jap landed some troops behind the lines by airplanes, there has not been many planes over. Sometime ago I was standing on a hill looking into the bay when a Jap plane suddenly appeared without warning. Black flak hit all around him but he kept flying straight then dove straight for a ship. I was pulling like hell the gunners would get him before he hit the ship. He kept coming down then he burst into a ball of fire and hit the ocean. I felt like I did when the home team made a touchdown. Then after he hit a shell came whistling over and the six guys standing around my hole all dove into it, me on the bottom, with our heads as low as we could get them. You’d be surprised how fast you can move. But it was the only one and slowly heads began to reappear and then most everybody starts laughing when they think of how fast they got undercover. One night the 1^st sergeant and I were listening to the radio when we heard a whistle. Having no prepared hole immediately available, we both hit a small ditch which wasn’t long enough. My usual speed put me in the ditch first, and he dove on top, laying behind me with his nose in my buttocks, which was humorous when the excitement was over.

Haven’t heard from Wylma for a long time. Could you find out what the score is?

I haven’t had enough to start another page so I’m going to the aid station to work a crossword puzzle.

Love,

24 May 1945

Dear Folks:

Not very fancy stationary but it’s the best I can find right now.

The ground is a quagmire again but today it was sunny so we had a chance to dry out. I think after taking a bath I’ll go work crosswords a while before bed.

Reports around today say the battle up front is coming pretty good now. I haven’t had it so bad since the Japs quit the shelling. I think the shells made me a little more nervous than I thought. Anyway you don’t need to worry about me – the worst part is over.

Had a letter from Phil today saying he was getting leave May 23^rd so he has probably been home and left again by the time you receive this. I think he is thinking about getting married and if he does, give him a present from me. Give him a hundred dollars, unless you can think of something better than the cash. You probably have better ideas on that. I don’t know how you feel about it, but I like the idea. How old is Carol?

Not much again but I want to shape up before dark so I better get going. Keep holding on. I feel sure I will get home this year.

Love,

23 May 1945

Dear Folks:

Fulfilling my prediction of last night, the weather has turned rainy and so today the area is a big mud pond. Don’t do much walking around now and while I’m sitting here just as well utilize the time.

Had a letter from my old landlady in Lincoln today – Mrs. Davis. She lives at the same place and really misses the old gang. And how I miss them too. I hope she is making it alright. Don’t know whether I told you or not but some time ago I had a letter from my roomy Kenny Miller. Remember him? He is the law student who graduated in ’41. He is in England and wanted to whip up a correspondence with me. He was a great guy.

I’m certainly in love with the pen you sent me – it’s such a beauty and I’m always using it.

Received a January Free Press yesterday, and though it was old, it still offered some good, homey news. If my envelopes look beat up and opened it’s because of the weather. The flaps always stick so I have to lick each one and soak it off, and that takes most of the glue off.

Well believe I’ll plow through the mud and go down to listen to Bob Hope on the radio. But I have to do a few things before then so I better sign off.

I (am) feeling very good and sleeping dry and good despite the wet weather. After the campaign will probably have movies and a little beer ration which will improve our lot. If I can just stay on this island until my time comes to go back I’ll be satisfied. It isn’t a bad place at all.

Love,

24 April 1945

Dear Folks:

Better write again. It’s raining out and sitting here in my pup tent, I may as well do something. It’s so slippery and muddy out it’s almost a feat to walk to chow and back. And the mud is like glue. But I have a dry place to sleep so the rain doesn’t bother too much. Our hut-tent is small but comfortable.

Had a V-mail from Mom today and a letter from Loyd Johnson. It was an old letter and at that time he had only been in two weeks. When Dick was to see me day before yesterday, I gave him all the mail. I had received so (much) I don’t have your letters to comment on. Dick asked me for them almost the first thing. And then he gave me what he had received. I hope he will have time to stop around again soon.

The war news continues to be good and I think that for practical purposes the war in Europe is over. Perhaps that will mean more replacements for the Pacific and then perhaps return home. Was busy figuring points today under the new rotation setup. Once again I feel I will get home this year although it is all problematical.

So much for another time.

Love,

11 April 1945

Dear folks:

Just received two letters, one from each of you. The first since coming to Okinawa, and needless to say they were much awaited. And very recent too.

In reading the clippings I see Jack Conklin is home on furlough. I can imagine how he feels about getting back for a while. I’m always reading and hearing of guys going back but it never seems to happen to me. And the greater percent of those all have less service. But I’m hoping that after this operation some of us will be granted furloughs. But I almost hate to comment on it because everything is so changeable.

Here on the island it has begun to rain and when it rains the soil which is a heavy clay, sticks to feet and wheels like glue. This morning my shoes must have weighed at least ten pounds from the mud. And it’s slippery and cold. I almost froze last night but I have the situation remedied for tonight. Have seen quite a number of Okinawa civilians walking along the road, most of them seem very old or very young. I guess the rest are fighting us. Almost all wear black for mourning I believe over their fate. Whereas on Saipan I felt some compassion for them. I no longer feel the same about these people. An interesting item is that there are 30,000 more women than men. From what I have seen they seem docile and cooperative enough. Nights ring with the crack of artillery fire and naval shells and flares can be seen in all directions. From reading the papers you can gather more of the activity around here than I can tell you, but undoubtedly it will be a costly and no quarter fight. Our living conditions are very good considering we are in combat, and I assure you I will be as careful as is possible.

As some of the usual paperwork has slowed down, I have been writing a battalion newspaper and trying to catch the news as it comes from the radio. It takes some time but it makes it go faster.

This is all for this time and I should be able to write you fairly regularly.

Love,

27 January 1945

Dear Folks:

I don’t think this will be much of a letter but better write anyway. It was just another day today with no high spots. Dan Gottman came over for a little while so I showed him the pictures and the clipping you sent. He always likes to talk about the NPV. He told me a four-foot snake got under his cot the other day and scared him to death. I guess there are a few cobras around and hope I don’t run into one.

I just heard the mail plane go over so perhaps the day will end up with a letter or two. No packages yet. I heard over the radio a Liberty Ship was sunk 400 miles west of Hawaii. I hope it doesn’t have our boxes on it.

Had a good rain today so of course we are walking in mud again. We have our ‘office’ in a pyramidal tent and have the floor covered with sand, we also sleep in it. We keep dry and live under pretty good conditions. Of course we keep our stuff in boxes and filed desks so we can move in a hurry. I imagine Dad you’re moving your office around as much as we do.

Just opened a beer—pretty good and it’s cold – I mean as cold as we can get it here. We get all kinds and most of it is good.

A safari of ‘gooks’ is just going by the tent – must be 25 of them – each with a can that they collect our food that we don’t eat. The little boogars especially like coffee. So many of them are diseased I don’t like to get too close to them. The first thing in the morning, girls start coming around getting washing. They beat them on rocks and do a good job. Some of them are kind of cute, but I don’t go for their smell.

Guess I’ll go up to the 1^st sergeant and check on my mail. Well I believe this is all. I’m feeling fine and have my appetite going again. I know how you feel about Phil leaving but this is for sure, he will appreciate his home and his parents more than ever before and he will come to realize how much (he) has enjoyed. He will be alright.

Love,

21 January 1945

Dear Folks:

A quiet Sunday morning and I’m taking it easy so a good time to write a letter and perhaps take care of some others. Will probably go to church services this afternoon held in the mess hall across the road. Last Sunday listened to a very good divisional chaplain. The Catholic chaplain who serves our battalion strikes me as a very understanding and likeable fellow, and I think he is the best we’ve had. I hope he comes this afternoon.

Well it was rainy yesterday and everything is mud again but this morning is hot and sunny like a typical June Sunday at home. I even feel the mood of the day, and the morning funnies would complete the setting. But instead of funnies had service records to look at.

Haven’t received any mail the past three days due to the inclement weather. The first class comes in by the plane so if it’s dirty weather, no mail. Should rate several today. No second class has yet come in.

Dan Gottman came in a few days ago with an armload of Star-Heralds and only yesterday I finished reading them. Only a few of them were later than September so everything was pretty old, but still good.

Last nite afforded something a little different in the way of eats. Supper was (a) little weak so we fried a can of bacon that we’ve been lugging around for some time. It’s the best bacon and it was certainly enjoyed. To top this we ate fruit cake that one of the boys received. Each section has a small one burner cook stove so we can heat up a meal when we’re not eating from the kitchen. Probably tonight we will cook the popcorn that the Groves sent me, if we can find anything to substitute for butter. Once in a while we get a PX issue of a few candy bars. The cigarette shortage seems to be felt here also. Now we are issued one pack every two and sometimes three days and that isn’t near enough. Plenty of smokes for the fighting front doesn’t apply here. Have been expecting a hurricane but it hasn’t materialized yet.

Slept pretty well last nite in contrast to a few restless ones. These dark nights make me afraid some Japs may bust in the area and start shooting things up. I imagine they are pretty desperate and hungry now. I always keep my pistol loaded under my pillow together with my knife. Of course we’re pretty well protected but I still wake up easily when I hear a sound.

For the past three nights have been dreaming of getting home. I hope it’s an indication. Last night I dreamt of hitting the streamliner from ‘Frisco and was nervous as a cat. But I can’t help but feel that something will happen that will get me home this year. After I get in the 30 months bracket my chances will increase. Next month the 3^rd I will complete 29.

The Gooks as we call the Filipinos, are working around the area digging drainage holes and cleaning up. It takes about four of them to do an ordinary man’s job. I think they’d be better off working for themselves but a grass hut and a bolo knife seems to satisfy them. (See how I need that pen and pencil set). This one is okeh but it needs a little coaxing occasionally and I’m always using one.

I’m certainly over the dysentery but have a slight cold that keeps my handkerchief busy.

I hope all my mail is getting to you in good order. They seem to censor and dispatch it in good time and I hope they are not too old when they get to you. All the envelopes we get stick together and it’s a job getting them open. Maybe it would be a good idea if you enclosed an airmail envelope occasionally.

I guess I haven’t anything else to write about and it’s about dinnertime now so I’ll knock off, and hope the mailman rings plenty tonight.

Love,

15 January 1945

Dearest Folks:

A little while ago I had a refreshing bath in the river nearby, and so now after having finished supper I feel like one of the old folks who likes to sit in the evening shade and just relax until dark. I’m feeling better every day, but still feel a little abnormal at times. How good it would be to inhale a bit of frosty air or walk through a snowdrift, with both cheeks rosy and cold. Perhaps they wouldn’t appeal to you, but after having been in the hot climates for better than two years, such an experience would be a treat. The weather here is extremely sultry and depressing and sometimes it seems to sap your will to work. Now I’m sweating but this year in the sincere hope that I will be able to see you sometime in 1945. Still our Christmas mail has not come and at this late date I’m beginning to think that someone should be held accountable, and explain for the situation. I’m sure it has been a failure on someone’s part after having seen other units getting theirs. One package arrived today from Mrs. D. A. Grove. It was well beat up and looked as though it had been kicked around from pillar to post. Also received a Free Press, the first in many months and dated the 17^th August. And a November Reader’s Digest came. Although the second class mail has indeed been fouled up, the first class has been coming regularly, as of course it must. The night before last had a V-mail from mom.

Well I hardly know what to write about now. My work has been going along about the same. New things coming in each day and reports to keep up. I believe our administration is at a greater peak than when we were in garrison. I’m sure that Dad’s reports are very few in comparison to what we submit. I suppose I will always be connected with higher headquarters. I see Arden Conklin is talking officer’s training—it’s hard to imagine a man of his qualities getting the opportunity. Applications at present are out and quotas in what I might qualify in are extremely rare. The last enlisted man to leave our outfit for OCS was over a year ago. The rain has been keeping our area in quagmire and it is a job to walk around without stepping in ankle deep mud, and I suppose the rain will always be much as it is now. It’s great for the many water buffaloes around but sad for the sad sack. I guess this is all to this epistle, and you just keep breaking wishbones, and throwing horseshoes over your shoulder until I hit the states again. Hey here’s an odd little request – getting soft – can you get Wylma N’s address for me? I owe her a letter. What do you think?

Love,

12 August 1944

Dear Folks:

If this was a Saturday night at home I certainly wouldn’t be having any time to write. A Saturday night over here is pretty monotonous and letter writing is the chief way to kill some time. We have a small generator in the battery and a few tents have electric lights. So that’s why I can write at night. The ‘Hippodrome’ closes every week at this time, and when the show is going there isn’t much to do. I walked over to the Jeep and listened to some news and music for a while but that grew tiresome so this is where I ended up.

The day before yesterday I flew to Saipan in a Liaison plane to see Dick. You know I am now on Tinian and I believe I told you all about that if it wasn’t censored. It is only a ten-minute ride but it was a nice one. We landed on Aslitho airfield and then I went right to see Dick. He’s very well and looking fine. I think he’s even getting heavier if my eyes don’t deceive me. The mud is about ankle deep all over the island and the hitchhiking was bad. I hadn’t seen him since about the last of July, so I thought I better get over while I had the chance. Of course I took all the letters that I had received from you so he could read them. After I left Dick, stopped in at Jack’s outfit and spent a few minutes with him. I didn’t have much time but thought I better stop. I don’t think I’ll be seeing him for a long time to come. He was running around in shorts helping put up a building. He gave me the picture I’m enclosing. It was taken on Oahu just before I left. He took several others but this one is the only one he had time to develop. He said he would forward the rest as soon as they are done. I guess we both look kind of ‘goony’ in it but otherwise it’s pretty good.

The war news sounds increasingly good each week. We hear most of the world news and from both sides. According to our version we are going great guns in Europe and I guess the Pacific is rolling too. Tokyo radio the other day announced that all Jap civilians would be armed to defend the country – if that is the case it will be a bloody slaughter. But that isn’t so much different than here. Most of the civilians go with the soldiers and take part in the ‘banzi’ zero hour attacks. I hope you read in the July 24^th issue of Time about the last attack of the Japs north of Garapan on Saipan. That is the place I visited and that I told you about in one of my previous letters. The more you see of them the more you become convinced they are mad, unreasoning 20^th century cannibals.

I suppose by now that you have heard of the Army’s new rotation plan. The time is now three years overseas, after which you become eligible for return and reassignment on the mainland. Well that’s another year to wait before there is even any hopes of getting back, and even then much is still probable. There is a furlough plan in effect but the quotas are so small I think it must be more of a morale builder than anything else.

Well there isn’t much else I can think of to write, although it isn’t very late. I’m still getting along very well and feeling good. In this weather skin diseases and ailments seem to be common and coral cuts take a long time to heal. It seems like all little scratches and cuts don’t heal up like they used to at home.

Guess I better peel off, and go to bed and for the Nth time think of you without being able to say goodnight to you.

Love,

25 October 1941

Dear Folks:

Although I think you still owe me a couple of letters I’ll write while I have nothing to do. This is Saturday afternoon and a beautiful day here. I just got through playing baseball with my shirt off. It’s pretty hot. Just got out of the shower and sitting around in my shorts luxiously relaxing. Everybody is listening to a radio wondering how their team will come out. Wish I could hear Nebraska.

Haven’t started my radio schooling yet and won’t for a couple of weeks. Since I’ve been here in the specialist battery we’ve been working on an oil mat to drill on. Boy that’s hard work and plenty dirty but it makes me feel good and eat plenty. When the rainy season begins here it rains all the time and the mud is actually on the tops of knee boots. That’s why all the work on the oil matting. Yesterday laid an oil mat for a basketball court. After this is finished I will begin my technical training on radio work. This battery I’m in has quite a good past. Since it was formed nine months ago our battery has never lost the “Best Battery” sign which hangs on our orderly building. It is the best battery in the whole camp and the best in the special battalion. The radio battery of the specialists is considered the best and to have the best and smartest in it. Also our regiment has had the regimental banner 5 out of 6 times. I’m quite proud to be here. The fellows seem to take more interest in things here. Sidewalks have been built up and a lawn and patches of flowers are around the barracks. Also by the mess hall we have a fountain with a square cupola over it plus an old Dutch windmill on top of it. But being in this battery means plenty of work. Friday nights we get on our hands and knees and scrub the floors. On Saturdays the latrine is cleaned. Yesterday I washed windows on the second floor—plenty of them and to think I used to gripe at home to just wash a few. This morning I was latrine orderly and had to polish the bowls and brass til it shone like the sun.

Thursday nite the camp gave a broadcast over NBC but I didn’t go. Don’t know what I’ll do tonight suppose go the show or the service club. This service club is quite a building. In it is a large cafeteria and café, a dance floor and a balcony around it. Also there is a library and a larger fireplace. I have signed up for two night school classes given in the Paso Robles high school. The courses are Spanish and trigonometry but don’t know whether can take trig or not.

My pal now is a fellow who is from Omaha and formerly worked in the War Department finance office. He also is a graduate of Nebraska University in Business Administration. He’s a swell fella and we go every place together. Practically all the fellows in my barracks are from Missouri or Kansas.

All soldiers do get half rates on transportation that is a cent a mile. Also I get a ten day leave at Christmas. I can go to Grandmas if I can’t get to you. It would take quite a bit to come home. I’ve written letters to Grandma but haven’t heard from her. I’ve had some trouble getting my correspondence straightened out after all these changes, however I’ve gotten mail from you, one from Dad (keep ‘em coming) and note from Mom with a buck in it. Thanks so much.

Got a letter from Kate and one from Bill Emick yesterday. Kate didn’t say much though I’ll answer today. By the way I suppose you addressed your letters to me from the card mailed from Leavenworth but be sure and address the rest from the card I sent that is Battery D, 55^th FA Tng. Bn. Use private and not mister.

Guess that’s everything. Say hello to the kids.

By the way I did know Professor Walker very well. Used to wait on him when I worked on “Bucks”.

See you in the next letter.

Lots of love,