Phil Moss Archives - Moss Letters

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,

6 September 1945

Dear Folks:

For the first time in over three years I can write you an uncensored letter. Censorship was called off today. I imagine the mailbox will be overflowing tonight. In a day or two I’m leaving the outfit and going to the personnel center to await transportation to the States. I don’t know, but it shouldn’t be long. I hope to get back around the 5^th of October but you realize I could be ten days off either way. That’s the way it looks now. If Nancy was excited about going to Denver you can imagine how I feel. You must be getting bored at hearing me say that.

Dick was located at the far north end of the island and that’s where I visited him. He flew to Tokyo and was to land at Atsurge Airfield. He was looking forward to it, but wants to get home as bad as I do.

Our camp is a half mile from the southern tip of the island, south of Naha.

Had a letter from Phil and Nancy today. I’m afraid Phil will be in for more than six months – it depends on how they decide this duration business. I hope they don’t stop the draft or cut the points way down for overseas service or else guys like Dick already overseas will be over quite a long time. It kinds of burns us up to see how the guys in the States get the breaks. But I hope to be one of them before long.

Well so much for this time – saw a show ‘Roughly Speaking’ last night. I could see so many things that were typical of our family. Better see it.

Don’t write any more. If things change any, I’ll let you know.

Love,

3 September 1945

Dear Folks:

Had a letter from Mom today telling me about your Denver visit. Quite a bit different than when we went as a whole family and had the car loaded down with everything. I sure hope you had a good time. I know Dan Gettman had been sent to the hospital and was later evacuated but I didn’t know he was at Fitzsimmons. He got deaf from the guns. I wished you could have met him – he would have told you a lot about Okinawa and how I was. He used to take a leg off me, but I usually liked to listen.

I’ll bet the corn and watermelon are ripe at home. A National Geographic magazine found its way into our tent and it had an article about Nebraska with pictures of Scottsbluff and the Valley. It really got my interest.

It looks like I will be on my way [home] very soon although I can’t say for sure just when. These last days seem very long. How I would like to fly back, but I suppose it will be by boat.

I suppose Phil is on the high seas somewhere and I can imagine Carol is anxious but she shouldn’t be worried. One of the guys in my tent had a wedding anniversary a few days ago. Married six years and been home only two years to celebrate them. We drank a beer to commemorate it. Glad to hear Nancy was going to Denver. Yes, I can hear all the giggling that must have went on.

Bill E. told me in a letter of his [illegible] when he was overseas that someday he was going to marry Helen Wood – so I guess he will. Starting from scratch I think I better snatch a young co-ed at Lincoln.

And don’t bother with any Christmas boxes. I hope to eat apples on Halloween night with you or see the sugar mills begin their fall run.

When I get back I don’t want to see many people, just stick around the house and be a lazy bum. But I probably won’t for long. You don’t know the wonderful change it will be.

Of course the Japanese radio sounds much different than it did before. Begging the people to be fixing and build for a greater Japan. I could go to Japan if I wanted to but I just couldn’t do anything to keep me away from home any longer.

My last couple of letters probably sounded like I was a little peeved but it’s because everyday seems so long until I get started back. Don’t forget if you don’t hear from me for a week don’t write any longer. Also advise Reader’s Digest of my old and civilian address.

Love,

27 July 1945

Dear Folks:

Not much on tap for tonight so maybe I better write a few letters. Just finished a letter to Dick and I’m going to see if he can make arrangements to visit me for a few days. We are in a permanent area and have a pretty decent setup now.

Had a late issue Free Press today – very recent and a letter from Phil and Nancy yesterday. Phil is turning out different than I thought he would. Wished I would get back in time to see him.

Very little to write about. There is nothing new on getting back. It is just a matter of waiting.

Went to teeth inspection today and it looks like I may have some work done [soon]. The doc pulled a tooth last October and I think it’s getting bad under the filling.

Well I’m out of news so I guess I’m bound to close.

Love,

15 July 1945

Dear folks,

Been lazy as the devil today, slept most of the afternoon and didn’t write the letters I intended to. Last night I thought a typhoon was on the way when it began to blow but it just turned out to be a strong wind, although it almost took my shack.

Had a letter from Phil a few days ago. I hope he can stay in his present assignment. The battalion commander left today under the demobilization plan. In his little farewell speech he said that as far as he knew we would all be out by September. Boy how I hope he is right. He also said it was definite that those of us with over 85 points would not be in any more combat, which means that I will be sure of coming home. It looks like a part of your prayers have been answered, and mine too. I think the commanding officer was just a little optimistic on getting home but even if it is by Thanksgiving, I can sweat out the time.

Received a course in advertising from Armed Forces Institute so I can have something to put my time in on. Quite a nice book I got too.

Saw a pretty good show last night “Twice Blessed”—plenty of laughs. I wish civilians could see some of the films shown only to GI’s. They are very good and typically GI but probably a little rough for civilians.

I wish I could think of something more to write but I believe this is the best I can do tonight. Enclosed is another commendation from General Hodge of the XXIV Corps. I guess we did pretty good. I hope you will read it over.

Love,

Attached with the Letter

HEADQUARTERS XXIV CORPS
Office of the Commanding General
APO 2356 July 1945

SUBJECT: Performance of Corps Artillery on Okinawa

TO: Commanding General, XXIV Corps Artillery, and APO 235

1. As a member of my staff and as the Commander of the XXIV Corps Artillery you are aware of the great interest I have taken in its operations and the extensive knowledge I have of its accomplishments in the campaign just completed. I take this opportunity to express to the fine command so ably handled by you, my pride in, my gratitude for, and my appreciation of, its outstanding performance in the highly important Okinawan Campaign.

2. Those in position to make comparisons have called this the bitterest battle of the Pacific to date as well as being of the highest strategic importance. The Corps Artillery, although having prior combat in its various components, was assembled in its entirety for the first time in Okinawa. Its teamwork, cooperation, enthusiasm and high standard of performance of all assigned missions, have won expressions of high confidence and unstinted praise from all units it supported. Its effectiveness has had great influence upon our success in the winning of a battle where Artillery has played a major role.

3. The artilleryman does not have the stimulation of hand-to-hand combat with the enemy to spur him to great heights. His task is exacting and tiresome and too frequently he cannot be kept fully informed of the devastating effects of his hard labor through the long days and nights. Nevertheless, the praise of our doughboys for the medium and heavy artillery, the statements of enemy prisoners as to the great destruction wrought and the hundreds of enemy guns and installations destroyed by the Corps Artillery all attest to the fact that it turned in an all-out performance of highest caliber. Furthermore, your command demonstrated its ability to take care of itself in combat under all conditions in that it furnished all of its own protection against infiltrators, sustained low casualties and low sick rate, and did not totally lose a single gun to enemy action in the entire 82 days of combat. A fine example of esprit as good fighting men is the fact that when the enemy area became too small to use artillery, the Corps Artillery voluntarily and enthusiastically did a superb job of infantry patrolling and blocking in mopping up areas surrounding their bivouacs, killing several hundred of the enemy with small arms with almost no casualties of their own.

4. The XXIV Corps was highly successful in the Battle of Okinawa. The success of any command in combat is due primarily to the teamwork, perseverance, determination and the will to fight on the part of its individual officers and men. Individuals of the Corps Artillery have demonstrated those characteristics in high degree and it is my desire that you bring the contents of this letter to the attention of all members of your command.

/s/ John R. Hodge
JOHN R. HODGE
Lieutenant General, United States Army
Commanding

1^st Ind.

HEADQUARTERS, XXIV Corps Artillery, APO 235, 8 July 1945

TO: Each member of the XXIV Corps Artillery

I forward this letter with a deep feeling of humility and pride, to each member of the XXIV Corps Artillery as an individual, because each of you, by your outstanding performance of duty and will to fight, is responsible for the superior results achieved by your organization in this battle.

(s) J. J. Sheetz
J. R. SHEETZ
Brigadier General, U. S. Army
Commanding

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,

3 July 1945

Dear Folks:

Plan to go to the show after supper so maybe I better scratch out a letter before chow. When I returned this afternoon found a letter from Mom waiting for me – a good one too.

I’m glad you like the idea of my going back to school and I’ve made up my mind that will be my postwar plan, and still go in with Dick on his plan. I hope it is possible that I can get home this fall and begin after Christmas, and even get my old room back with Mrs. Davis. I’ll really go in for it. Keep praying it will happen.

You always tell me to be careful and you are right about snipers still being around but I assure you I don’t take any chances. As a matter of fact when we have an air raid or something happens, I’m always the one who wakes up first. But things are very quiet now and what few Japs that remain are being rapidly rounded up. I’ve seen too many guys get hurt when they didn’t need to.

I hope too that Phil will remain in the states for some time. I’ll bet Carol is all excited about getting married.

I’m glad General Stilwell took over – he seems to have a good reputation and the guys talk good about him.

It’s chow time and besides I’m out of any more news so I’ll let the big one I wrote last night excuse for this one.

Love,

26 June 1945

Dear Folks:

I hadn’t intended to write tonight but had a nice letter from you with the pictures so I’m in the mood. The pictures are very good. Your dress tied in the back brings back the days when we always were tugging at some part of your apparel. Phil looks well filled out and husky and very nice looking, and it looks like Carol and him make a good pair. He looks nice in his uniform. In his letters Phil says Carol is a ‘slick dish’ or ‘takes the cake’. Dad’s store has certainly grown from its humble beginnings in the Flower house garage. And all since I’ve been away. I hope it grows in the future as it has in the past.

This afternoon I slept – soundly and someone told me I even snored. The first afternoon like that in a long time. We are having it easier now – are getting volleyball courts and baseball diamonds and will probably be on a half-day schedule. Soon we will have a canteen and some movies.

Some evenings we have quite a little show shooting up Japs who wander around and almost every day we bag a few. Yesterday we spotted a group in a cave and after some excitement 7 Japs were dead. Still quite a few running around. About every night a few Japs try to infiltrate back along a road that runs along a little valley near our area. Then flares go up and the machine guns start spitting red tracers. We overlook the road so when things start we gather on the hill and watch like spectators in the bleachers of a rodeo. Sometimes we can see the Japs trying to scramble up the road bank or run when the flare bursts over them. A few nights ago a fellow in the battery who is called the “Deacon” killed a husky Jap who got in pretty close. Being the person he was, jibbed him plenty. But we are pretty safe. It is pretty hard to [end of the letter is missing]

11 June 1945

Dear folks:

My writing has been delayed considerably because of a succession of events that made writing difficult. And I know you’ve been anxious too.

I’ve been bouncing over the roads today and I feel pretty tired and let down tonight but not so I can’t write you. On my travels today I saw Shuri and Noha including Shuri castle or what is left of it. You know the struggle it has been to take those places. I couldn’t describe to you the desolation and wreckage. Hardly a structure stands and everywhere there is rubble of stone and wood. Only a long two-story brick building remains to what was a city of 65,000-Noha. Bulldozers nudge around through the debris clearing roads and cleaning up, and preparing areas to live in. Shuri is equally wrecked. Shuri sits in a valley surrounded by hills and ridges that shelter catacombs of interlocking caves and emplacements. Every ridge is specked with these holes. From a high view the fields are potted with circular shell holes and occasionally a huge crater of a bomb or a large naval shell. And I saw our burned out tanks, many of them, stopped in a low place where the Japs probably used their suicide tactics of planting satchel charges on the tanks and blowing themselves up. Shuri castle has a few remaining pillars still standing. They immediately remind one of the Greek ruins. Now the Japs have been pushed into a very small pocket and there they will probably repeat their banzai charge and the remainder dive into the sea as they did on Saipan. It seems that the Japanese are entirely alien to what we believe about life and the standards we live by.

Yesterday I had a look at four freshly killed Japs who were killed in their cave. They had thrown a grenade at one of our men from their hole about half way up a steep bank. After we sneaked up and threw grenades and plenty of ammunition at them, someone looked in and they had died for the emperor. One had apparently held a grenade to his chest at the last minute for his chest was blown open and his face gone. In peacetime our government will spend thousands of dollars to find the murderer of one man but here a life seems worth little.

After coming in tonight I found I had four letters, two each from Mom and Dad—one from June. They certainly were appreciated and I’ve already gone over them many times. And I’ll read them many more. Now I’m the one who isn’t keeping up, but pretty soon I should be on a regular schedule. Yesterday had two Free Press dated back in February. I’m looking forward to the recent ones you kept.

Haven’t seen Dick or Duane yet but I think it won’t be too long. Probably the island will be secured soon and then it will be easier to get around. I would like to have Dick come over and stay a few days with me if it is possible.

I can’t say much about the demobilization deal except what I read and hear. I have more than 85 points and weighing everything I feel more optimistic than pessimistic about getting home in the next few months—although I have nothing to go on. Maybe it’s like a women’s 6^th sense. But if something doesn’t materialize I will lose faith in everything. I can hardly imagine being home again. A rumor today said those over 85 will see no more combat, but as I say it’s just a rumor.

Bob Meyers and Guyla Steele now—golly I can hardly picture it and Guyla a Russian. I don’t like that. Glad to hear Jim S. is getting married but sorry to hear his folks are leaving. I thought perhaps Phil and Carol would get married on his leave and was slightly surprised to hear they didn’t. Phil sent me a picture of her. She looks pretty sweet.

On the fruit orchard deal it would be mostly oranges and grapefruit and for the first couple of years a small truck garden to alleviate expenses. Our area is in the Rio Grande Valley of Texas. I thought I would put some money into it and let Dick run the place and build up a first class orchard and do everything to produce a good orchard. To make expenses until the crop begins to produce Dick would raise a small truck garden and with the equipment I would buy, he could make money helping others spray etc. And I would come back and get the best job I could and make up some of the first year’s expenses. If I get home soon I’m going to look into it but of course I’m not going all out on it until I can find out a little more. I am anxious to talk to Dick about. I think he will like it. I know my buddy would not let me down, he’s square and honest as the day is long. He is a great guy. He is anxious to help me and he wants later to expand and then go together on a business of hardware there. We had great fun going all over it one night in a foxhole. And I know Dad would fall over backward to advise me. I’m very anxious to see the picture of the store. Nancy and Mom and Phil all write about what an institution it is getting to be.

I’m glad you had a nice birthday and I wished I could have sent you something. (The Noha department store is very short on items). I know Dick and I and Phil will all be home soon to give you an inexpensive but most wanted gift—a big kiss.

And Mom I wouldn’t want you to go out west. Stay where you are and keep home what it has always been and always will be. Many people may soon regret having done that.

And I too want Nancy to go to school and for my choice, Nebraska University. And to have every advantage of graduating. I wanted to graduate in the worst kind of way and feel very badly sometimes because I didn’t. If I were still in school and took law, I would almost be out. I hate to think I will never get a degree. My days there were filled with association and acquaintance with learning, that are long remembered. I surely want Nancy to go and have all she needs to enjoy it.

I’m sure you finally got straightened out on my outfit and I have never been able to tell you. I’m feeling fine but I think I must feel like Dad sometimes—ready to blowup and sometimes I feel nervous as hell. I just hope I can soon see you. Minor differences will seem like nothing after this.

Well it’s beginning to get a little late (9 o’clock) and today may be another heavy one. But I’ll try to write often. You can now feel much reassured for it is almost over on this island and then we can have it easier.

Better stop sometimes although I feel like writing on and on if I could dig up the items.

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,