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12 April 1944

Dear Folks:

I just attended a show and it’s getting late but perhaps I can write you a few lines before bed. Monday visited Dick and we went down for supper [illegible] to his outfit and ate with him. We are not far apart now and it is more convenient for me to see him. He is now located in good quarters and aside from a longing for a look at the ‘old country’ which is common to us both, is looking good. On Monday [illegible] might he come down with the result of [illegible] and together we made up a box for you. He did a pretty [good] job [of buying for you]. Today I mailed it. Haven’t received the one from you yet but it will be coming along soon. The Free Press came today but am not finished reading it.

Our radio is back on the job and it sounds wonderful. I’m in a slightly sentimental mood tonight thinking about many things and wondering if those things will ever return as they were before. The day-to-day routine of the Army, with never an opportunity for a respite, is sometimes discouraging and dragging the war along slowly but I guess these conditions are necessary. Well so long for tonight and always remember me to Gram and Gramp.

Love,

10 February 1944

Dear Dad:

I just received another of your inimitable letters and it came at a most welcome time. My head is still going round like a merry go round. I have been very busy the last few days and just now has the volume of work begun to slacken off a little. But working like this makes the time slip by almost unnoticed. When I realize how long it has been since I’ve eaten a Moss meal, I appreciate that fact, more than ever. But maybe that’s because I’m older. I can remember when I couldn’t wait another day until I was old enough to have a bike and then later on to drive an automobile. But now here I am having gone through both and wondering what I’ll be doing when I’m forty or fifty.

I think if I take another look at your letter I can stretch this one out a little longer. Every time you say something about the cold weather and the snow, I have to pause and remember that in some places there actually is weather like that. Every afternoon around three the office knocks off for a little volleyball game on the big rambling lawns that are near our area. We’re getting pretty brown from it and we feel pretty good after sitting down all day. Last night we gathered together our best forces and had a game with some Hawaiian civilian boys and took a good beating. We played after supper with the little gathering there. It reminded me of a twilight softball game like we used to have. There was a few good-sized ‘wahines’ there together with some men playing poker on a little grass mat. They sure take life easy and are so darned good natured and hospitable. They’re pretty fat and look sloppy but you overlook that. The boys beat our pants off – they can hit a ball from any angle.

Dick and I went out together on pass last Wednesday and looked around for the shells but couldn’t find any this trip. But we’ll get them. I bought Mom and Nancy each one of those handkerchief affairs they wear over their heads and better get them mailed tonight. Dick and I are very lucky to be so near to each other but I think your summarizations are pretty correct. What did you think of the Marshalls episode? Boosts your morale up for a while and makes you a little more optimistic. There is a lot of talk around in the papers of troop rotation and furloughs but I don’t put much faith in any of it. All of it is so contingent upon other things that is seems pretty remote. Guess I’m getting used to waiting. I know what the deal on the bond allotment is. I had an allotment for that amount and it was automatically stopped in favor of a new plan so that represents the money not applied on a new bond. Hope you received the sixty bucks instead of the usual thirty-five.

Most of the civilians at home get a pretty good tongue lashing from the fellows – and especially the strikers. Boy what they wouldn’t do for them. I guess that shows that they didn’t realize what a swell place the ‘old country’ was until they had to leave it. Any little old corner of the states would satisfy most of us. But this business of laying off work sure raises the hair on us when we hear of another fifty thousand or so because they can’t get enough to have all they want. I think the situation is pretty lopsided too. Everyone whether he’s over here or back there is in the same kind of job and if he has to take bad breaks that’s just tough.

Well I’m going to do some studying for a while and the evenings are very short so I’m going to throw in the towel about here. The friend in Washington sent me another book a few weeks back and it’s full of interest so got to get busy on it. I have a little room by myself now and can setup books and spend a profitable evening with them. I think your sentiments are the best in the world although they aren’t expressed in the language of Longfellow, which is the least important part.

Love,

18 September 1943

Dear Folks:

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

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

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

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

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

Love,

10 July 1943

Dear Dad:

You probably have noticed, and maybe with a little concern, the fewer number of letters that I have been writing, but I find it so discouraging to write a good letter that I put it off ‘for just one more nite’. Well my guilt has been gnawing on me pretty strong tonight so this will be ‘that one more nite’. The first thing I should do, and I do feel bad about it, is for neglecting you on Father’s Day. I know it is a little late, but I hope you will not feel it was intentional. As a sort of a ‘peace offering’ I’m sending you an electric razor. I didn’t expressly buy it for you, but after I got it thought I made a mistake and not knowing whether I can always use it just as well send it home. The razor is (a) good one but I know the toughness of your beard and perhaps you can’t use it. Perhaps Phil is getting to where he can get some good of it.

Tomorrow is the Sabbath so possibly I will go to the beach or to a dance. Ordinarily the afternoon is given to recreation although it is never a certainty. In the morning the chaplain has services in the rec hall but he seems to me to be so lacking in what I consider a good ‘sky pilot’ that I can’t feel as I should (think) about going.

Last Wednesday nite the first USO troupe from the states did a show for us and I laughed all the way through it. It was a breezy streamlined affair but just what the guys like. Even a half dozen chorus girls danced in front of all the whistling. The girls were quite a contrast to the willowy hula girls that dance slow and easy and with no shoes. After seeing the local females for so long, these looked pretty good.

I just heard the news that you have probably been following pretty closely and that is the landing on Sicily. It appears that perhaps from now on, we will do the choosing as to where and when the fighting will be done, but despite this I think it will still be a long time before it is all finished. Sometimes I get into some good arguments on this subject. You have often been right on your ‘out of the blue’ hunches and I hope this is one that is no different.

As a supplement to my excuse for not writing I do considerable reading in the evenings and I think this stops the letters a little bit. If you have not gotten a book yet forget about the first order and try to get the one ‘Titles’ that I mentioned. Perhaps I should have asked Katie to do this for she would have much better access to them than you. Maybe I’ll do that.

Tonight we assumed the roles of scrub women and cleaned up the billet with mops, etc. With my household experience in washing dishes, mopping, making beds, etc., I should make somebody a good wife. Maybe if the women keep working after the war, I can put it into practical use.

All of you have been doing a swell job of writing and I do appreciate it, although maybe it isn’t evident from my end. You know there is nothing dearer to me than home, and of late I have realized that more than ever, at least it has been impressed with greater meaning. I guess it’s about time for the final sentence and I never know how to write it to leave you with how much I miss and love you all.

Love,

3 April 1943

Dearest Folks:

I’m afraid this will be little more than a note to let you know that everything is still okay but I always feel better after taking care of your letter. The past few days have been good ones for mail and of course that doesn’t hurt my morale any. I always get one from you. You must be very busy writing so much but if I couldn’t get your mail, I would feel completely lost. I had one from Katie. I’m glad she is so happy.

Tomorrow is another Sunday and unfortunately I am on duty all day but perhaps that will give me a chance to get caught up on my mail. By the time you receive this, I will have mailed the hat. I also sent five pictures yesterday. I get a big bang from sending you stuff.

Better pull the curtain tonight. It’s about time for bed check and lights out.

Love,

26 March 1943

Dearest Folks:

I have just finished cleaning up for inspection tomorrow and now perhaps I can write you a something of words before I go to bed. I’m glad you received the things and that you really liked them. I will send the hat in a few days and can get a box made for it. I was interested in your bridge game. We play considerable but we lack plenty of know-how and technique. Besides the movies that is almost the only thing I do in the evenings. I have been listening to the radio for some time tonight. Kate Smith and now Al Jolson and Monte Washington, the radio is pretty moody and to hear it without a lot of interruption is pretty relaxing. I had a nice letter from Gram last week-very sweet. I will answer it tonight.

Next week I plan to grab my camera and hike into the hills and see some things I have been wanting to see for a long time.

I guess I will exit for now—not much of a letter. I think about you all the time and more and more things crop up that reveal so many memories also. Will never forget.

Love,

23 March 1943

Dearest Folks:

I have settled my conscience by writing my overdue letters so now I can turn to you and give you a resume. I had a long letter from a gal in Washington, one of these prefabricated jobs that was pretty amusing. She is a faithful correspondent. Night before last I saw the show “In This Our Life’ which I thought was for duper and teaching than the story itself. I suppose you are beginning to plan the garden already and to undertake spring cleaning. I believe Dad’s next best pursuit is gardening. Although the first day comes in without much adieu here, I did remember the day. It was a very hot one. Next month I hope to have my pictures taken before I get out of camera range. You probably have the things by now. I wish I could be there to see Phil in his trunks. I hope they fit.

I’ve come to the end of the rope tonight which is little more than a note. Nancy’s lesson on the off-tune, yellow stained piano keys would be like a symphony from Raikmaninoff. You’ll never know how much I miss home.

Love,

20 March 1943

Dearest Dad:

It’s high time I sat down and once again wrote you a letter. I received yours a couple of days ago and I believe it was the only one during the week.

This is Saturday night. Although it’s been many weekends since I’ve enjoyed a civilian weekend, I was especially reminiscent on the subject tonight. I listened to The Hit Parade and some dance music and that helped recall those lost day of follies. Right now Fred Allen is on and it is always a marvel to me that both of us can listen to the same program. In a loose sort of a way it forms a feeling of nearness.

Next month I hope that I can have a few photographs taken. Good photographers are not in abundance but their work is acceptable. They are all Japanese, who all seem to possess a curious mania for cameras.

The bridge foursome got together again tonight and it was a successful session for me. We just finished a few minutes ago. I believe I am improving regardless of the dubious tutelage.

I hope that you have received the knick-knacks by now and it was too bad they couldn’t be there for Mom’s birthday. I am doing considerable reading and it seems that I can never read enough. There is such an infetertmable number of articles in my brain and the resulting consciousness of my inadequacy is very depressing.

Well I’ve come to the end of another very brief letter. Physically I’m very well and have not been on sick call since being on the islands. For all I think of you I should be able to write more and I do hate to stop. I’ll write tomorrow. A million times I’ve gone over the first day when I get home.

Love,

6 March 1943

Dearest Folks:

I really am ashamed of myself for not writing sooner and oftener but it seems that something comes along every night to put off until tomorrow. And secondly, it is so hard to write a letter that I give up in disgust. Whether I write or not you know that I am always thinking of you. Artie Shaw who plays regularly in Honolulu at a service inn, was here today but as I expected it was impossible for me to see him, and I would have given two days wages. Tomorrow being Sunday I hope I can make it to the dance at the USO. I have increased my allotment, that is the cash allotment, to thirty-five dollars, or twenty dollars more than what it was, that was effective March 1, but it may be awhile before it begins to arrive. I hope the bonds have been coming regularly, and I understand that the government is putting into effect a new plan whereby so much of the delay and error will be eliminated. Until now it was impossible to get a pass for longer than about eight hours but lately longer leaves have been authorized, and I hope that soon I can take a three day pass to Honolulu by plane, or at least sleep in a full-sized bed for one night. In my new job I do office work, and occasionally use my shorthand although it’s hardly as good as it was when I was in the bank. A few days ago I used it in a court session, and I must have looked like a stockbroker during a slump, but I got most of it down and what is more important, transcribed. I hope you have received the things I sent by now. I really hope that you like the bridge covers, although regardless you would write in the affirmative. I received a letter, the two page one, from you yesterday and I was glad to hear that you went to Denver for a few days, but sorry, in a way, to hear that Tom was rejected. I hope and I really mean it, that Katie is very happy, that Tom is truly a right guy. I suppose that it is impossible to send the Free Press any longer considering the new mailing restrictions, so your letters should be twice as long. I hope you will forgive me for my carelessness, because I know the anxiety that you must feel. So long for a while.

Love,

23 February 1943

Dear Folks:

In going through these wee hours in the morning, halfway between sleep and a daze, and perhaps if I try writing I can keep awake better. Had a letter from you today and also one from Mrs. Lewellen, and I will answer hers soon. She said Jack was getting quite enough of rice and beans. I’m glad to hear you received the tray. You will begin to think I have a mania for necklaces if I send any more. They have the screwiest looking little hats over here and I want to send a couple to you before I leave the islands. In your next letter give me your head size Dad and then I’ll do some shopping. As long as you are prohibited from sending me anything, I will have a chance to even up the score a little. This is a very poor letter but I can’t seem to make any headway at all tonight. A sleepy goodnite and lots of love.

Love,