Office Archives - Moss Letters

8 July 1945

Dear Folks:

Wanted to write you a long letter last night but some fireworks started and the lights were turned off so I didn’t get all said I wanted to.

The mailman brought me three letters today, one from each of you and from Pat Moss. In Mom’s letter was the pictures and the clipping about Jim’s marriage. Nancy looks very sweet and innocent in her formal. I’m sure I’ll be as proud of her as you are. I’m looking forward to having her in [University of] Nebraska next fall. That’s quite a bridge behind Mom. I guess it’s more than a bridge. Dad doesn’t look like he’s getting older as far as I can see. Gramp looks very poor and Phil so husky and filled out. I’m pretty thin right now and everyone tells me about it, but I feel alright, but get a little nervous doing paperwork all the time. Maybe you can fatten me up a little. I think I weigh about 130 [pounds] – [a] little more than I did when I came in, but I think I’ll look better when I get off this island.

I don’t know what has happened to the magazines and packages you sent. Only one Free Press has arrived. The Reader’s Digest makes it pretty regular though.

You guys think I might not want to do much talking when I get back, but I think I will, or at least I think I will. But a lot of people wouldn’t really know what you were talking about and I’d get tired of them quick.

Haven’t received the letter from Carol. I hope I can get back to see them get married.

Boy the house must be a very nice place with all the redecorating you are doing. I bet you are doing it because you’re expecting somebody home.

Dick is alright and is still on the island and I should see him soon.

Love,

7 July 1945

Dear Folks:

Kind of late to be writing but I’m feeling kind of fidgety and restless while waiting to go to bed. Kind of a tiring day, so darn much paperwork it seems, but a shower brightened me up a little. It seems like the guys can always rig up a shower no matter how scarce materials are. Gas drums and a few pieces of gas pipe make up the installation.

A few nights ago I saw the show “Mrs. Parkington”. I thought it was very good. As yet we don’t have movies in our own area but it shouldn’t be long until we do. Wasn’t able to get done in time tonight or I would have gone. The hot rainless days continue seeming to weigh you down by the sultry heat, but the nights are pretty decent although some nights I don’t cover up until pretty late in the morning. Last night a few Japs around kept me awake, machine guns, and flares going off. Don’t think I’m in much danger because it isn’t as bad as it sounds. Really what it turns out to be is more of a sideshow for many of us. Last night a Jap got caught in a flare in the middle of a road junction and he was a gone pigeon before he could get away. Anyway, about one o’clock I finally got to sleep. Then this morning two or three Japs were cornered in a cane field and I sat on a bank watching the guys surround it and toss in grenades. Working in the office I don’t go on patrol but sometimes when things happen close I can get a spectator’s look.

Well tomorrow is another Sunday and I hope we can get a chaplain for services. Probably we will. How I’d like to sit in St. Andrews in Scottsbluff and be in a quiet, real church. I wished you could have seen the Episcopal Cathedral in Honolulu. It was certainly beautiful. For a long time after I left Oahu, the church sent me their publications and on Saipan I received two invitations to dances. I wasn’t able to attend [ha].

Dick and I haven’t been able to get together again but I’m sure we can have a few together soon. I don’t know where Duane is but probably he’ll show up one of these days. I told Dick about the newspaper article about meeting Duane and he laughed plenty and said it was a lot of beans.

It’s almost nine o’clock and I have another letter to write so I better stop. My getting home continues to look good and of course now knowing I can get out, it is hard on the patience. But I can hold out a little longer after so long. All I can think in our postwar plans is getting back to school.

Well au revoir.

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,

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,

27 May 1945

Dear Folks:

This is a trying position to write a letter in – lying on a cot propped on one elbow.

Yesterday had three letters – two from Mom and one from Dad – one of Mom’s had the baccalaureate service in.

Probably you have been reading about the heavy rains here—if you can believe all of it—for it has been raining the last 4 days in torrential proportions. Some of the things that went on during the heaviest part of the rain should be worth a six page letter, but I’m too cramped a position and too low “morally” to do it. The first night it began about 4 in the morning. Feeling I was comparatively well protected, I turned over and went to sleep and woke up later to see the water about an inch from the bottom of my cot. So I got up and in a driving rain, cut a drainage ditch out of the hole. That eased the situation some but everything on the floor was soaked. Finally the rain kept driving down and soon everything I had was wet. And since then have had no opportunity to dry them out. Quite a number of the boys dug holes into the side of a bank, and as the water flowed over the side, the banks finally caved in, covering cots, etc. Kind of humorous in a miserable sort of way. The aid station was under four feet of water and early in the morning they were wading around moving out and trying to find lost equipment. Fortunately our office was comparatively dry, the only one that escaped. The morning after the big rain, I went (to) breakfast and saw a guy sleeping on some ration boxes. He was forced out of his overflowing hole. Remember the last thing you told me to do was not to get my feet wet. Well, tonight they are soaked but luckily my blankets are dry. I could say it looks like it’s clearing up but every time I do, it starts in again. Oh, to be a civilian again.

Last Thursday night was an exciting one. On that night the Japs attempted to bring in airborne troops but at the time I didn’t know it. There was the usual ach-ach-searchlights and I saw three shot down. The main thing I have to worry about is falling ach-ach fragments. I saw one Jap plane fly over and drop five eggs in a neat row.

I guess the road was so muddy the chaplain couldn’t get through. Anyway, there was no Protestant service.

Well, I want to dry out my feet a little and get organized for bed so I better cut short. I don’t have a cold – feel fine but pretty tired of the mud.

Love,

9 May 1945

Dear folks:

This has been a beautiful and sunshiny day making the war seem far off and entirely inconsistent, but the war is here. We received the news today of Germany’s unconditional surrender but there is little outward signs of celebration. All day the radio has been broadcasting speeches from high leaders and right now General Marshall is on. It is hard to believe that there is actually peace in Europe for it has lasted so long and been so much on our minds, that when it ended so suddenly it will take a while to really soak in. Now of course I hope it won’t be long until the full weight can make itself felt against Japan. The surrender has also raised our hopes for returning home and possibly demobilization, but the main thing is to get back. I wonder how long Japan can last now. I saw infantrymen returning from the front today and I felt very humble. The parents of those boys would hardly recognize them. It is certainly tough up there, and people owe an everlasting debt of gratitude to each of them.

Yesterday it rained very hard and made it almost impossible to walk around. Our office became flooded out and in the midst of it we had to move. I slept like a kitten last night.

I thought I’d stick in a piece of invasion money issued to us before we landed. 50 sen represents an American nickel. I’ll send you a little more of different denominations when I get paid.

Well about all now.

Love,

16 April 1945

Dear folks:

Just received a V-mail from Mom, a letter from Gram and one from June so while there is a lull in things perhaps I better take advantage of it. You said you received a letter from me, the latter part of March and also that you didn’t think I was feeling well. As a matter of fact I wasn’t at that time. I was hearing about Okinawa and of course that isn’t anything to look forward to. The past two days have been hot ones and I don’t mean weather alone, and two days ago I was about as scared as I have yet been. A Jap shell hit about 35 yards from me. I was in a foxhole and the shrapnel passed over my head by about 2 feet going into the office, ripping a leg off a chair and going into several reams of paper. Other boxes were hit and our tent was full of holes. Undergoing a shelling is nerve wracking and I’m still uneasy. It probably isn’t over with yet. Now we sleep in foxholes and while walking around always subconsciously watching for a place to duck.

With the great air activity around I have seen several Jap planes shot down and hardly a night passes but what the sky is filled up with red tracers and ach ach bursts. Naval planes are in full support of the operation and yesterday while eating I could watch plane after plane roar in and drop their bombs or let go their rockets. The rockets make a loud hissing roar and explode with great concussion. If I felt more like it, I would like to write you a long account but just don’t feel up to it.

However I’m feeling fine and taking precautions and hoping above all I can see you this year.

The boxes I received were in good condition and everything was eatable and the cokes were especially good. Received a few Christmas cards yesterday so perhaps the packages will yet come.

Had a letter from Phil yesterday and answered it right away. I’m so glad he got in the Navy. At least he won’t have to live in foxholes and will always know where his bed is.

I’m going to stop and I’ll write you as often as possible and don’t worry for we’ll all forget it when we are all together again.

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 February 1945

Dear Folks:

Had a nice letter from Dad today so as long as I couldn’t stand the show just as well spend the time writing. Have been feeling very bad all day. My old kidney attacks began early this morning and haven’t let up all day except that I feel pretty decent now. I went to the hospital again this morning for a urinalysis but won’t know the result until tomorrow. Later the doctor felt around, took my blood pressure, and thumped a few places. He thinks it is urethral colic or perhaps auritis. It has been effecting me on and off for the past two weeks. Sometimes it gets pretty bad. Well the doc told me to go to bed for a few days and wait to see what the hospital does.

I’m keeping very busy but feeling like I do, I don’t have much ambition sometimes.

Pat sent me her picture a few days ago and she is an attractive girl. She writes me often.

I’m sure I’m not getting too much beer – perhaps it would average up to about a bottle every 3 days and lately we have had none at all.

As far as Christmas packages go, I have given up – they are surely sunk. The other mail comes good and I think the others would be here if it was possible.

Now as far as my experience with the Red Cross and what they are doing here. Practically all our emergency furloughs are based on their recommendations and that’s practically the only way to get one. That’s why it is important to contact them first when something serious happens at home. Other than that I’ve had no dealing with them. I think they do most of their work at the hospital. Occasionally a Red Cross girl comes around in a truck with cokes, a little candy and a ready conversation. A field worker is always handy and they have been every place I have.

The wind has been blowing all day and the dirt and sand is something fierce. I hope it rains soon. It raises hell with our typewriters and everything rusts overnight. What a country. But last night was very beautiful with a bright moon and the tall palm trees. For the moment at least, I imagined the war was non-existent.

I have nothing more, I feel like hitting the hay and calling it another day.

Love,

8 February 1945

Dear Folks,

Just unloosened my belt after a good meal and now before beginning a bridge game better write you a while. I’m in the mood and have some news. All day today I tore down the mimeograph machine and of course I had to get good and black as I usually do. I can remember you wondering how I got so dirty. I had parts all over but I got it back together and pretty good job too. After I finished took a dip and then showered. Feel swell now.

Yesterday three packages came—two from you and one from Mrs. D. A. Grove. Your packages were in perfect condition and everything completely intact. The birthday cakes were in very good condition not even smashed. Ate a little of them last nite and they are right in line with your good cooking. They were especially welcome now that the only eats before bed is what you get from home. In the other box was the Absorbine and olives and tuna. All came thru okay. I’m looking forward to some cake and beer tonight after the show. Of course as always when I get a box from home I get sentimental as the devil and catch a tear coming loose. Mrs. Grove sent me a lot of candy and small stuff. I must write her very soon. And today two letters and 4 Free Presses came. One was a Valentine card from you two and one a letter from Dad. The Free Presses were fairly recent—last November. Perhaps all of our second class (mail) will now arrive.

Finally found two bridge players for me and my partner so tonight will have a game. Probably make a lot of boners. A few of the officers play and I hope we can play them sometime.

I was a little surprised to read about what Dad had to say about the Helmicks and if that’s right I hate ‘em too. If he has no feeling for the war effort I would like to personally slug him but hard. I wish to hell he could get over here for a while and see what the hell’s going on. I have no use for anyone who doesn’t know there’s a war going on. Perhaps he should get a look at some young kids lying in a ditch all blown to hell, he’d change his mind. I’m working to a boil—better slow down.

Had a letter from June a few days ago and I’ll bet she’s very lonesome.

One day my hopes go up for rotation and the next time they go down so I’m staying noncommittal. Today took my hopes up again as I understand all over 30 months are being reported. I complete 30 next month, but I can’t imagine me going home. Just too good to be true. There are no furlough quotas.

I guess this is all, better shape up for the show and bridge game. Boy I’m getting to be a terrible writer. Get in too much of a hurry. Thanks again for the boxes and let’s hope next Christmas you won’t have to send any.

Love,