Phil Moss Archives - Page 2 of 3

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,

11 May 1945

Dear Folks:

What sounded like good news came over the radio this morning, and while I’m putting in time this afternoon, perhaps I can tell you about (it). The War Department announced it had defined the point system for discharge with 85 points necessary to be eligible. Of course everyone has figured them up and mine stands at 91. Although we hear a lot about rotation and discharge it hasn’t made much effect but now I’m hoping that I will at least make it back on rotation or discharge, one or the two. If they are going to discharge 1 1/3 million as they say, it looks like I would have a chance. Anyway the morale has taken quite a boost around here since the announcement of these two plans. Now I’ve got to preserve myself until one of them affects me.

Had a letter from Phil a couple of days ago – he sure is doing the writing. He’ll get along alright once he finds out what the score it. Heard from my friend in Washington today and she is getting married the 5^th of June. Said she had a big party in the club where us used to go once in a while.

No more packages have come in but fourth class seems to drift in everyday so the rest of mine will probably show up one of these days.

I wished I had something to write about. There seems to be just nothing at all. Last night was pretty quiet. I’m feeling very good – I think it is this cool weather. Well I’m forced to quit here but perhaps the next communiqué will be longer.

Love,

28 April 1945

Dear Folks:

Here I am again as is usual at this time of evening. About the only diversion after chow is listening to the radio and that doesn’t always appeal, and listening to the tales from Tokyo gets irritating. This morning while gathering the news, for interest I turned on Shanghai and listened for a few minutes to a commentary on military affairs. Of course Shanghai is Jap controlled. This morning he discussed the members of the Special Attack Corps or what we call suicide divers. They harp on this Corps quite a lot. American naval and casualty losses that he gave sound like evangelistic exaggerations. Many remarks they make seem the work of a simple minded child.

I see by the bulletin board that censorship regulations here permitted more leniency in writing so I thought I would tell you about some personal experiences I’ve had. Last night started out quietly although the air raid siren sounded about sundown. After hearing a few artillery shells crunch some distance away, I managed to get asleep but woke up with a start around ten thirty by the thunder of anti-aircraft guns. Then I heard a plane swoop over pretty low so I sat up and peeked over the top of our foxhole. As I usually do I woke up my buddy. It seems better to have company at such times, although perhaps I sometimes get over excited. Whenever a Jap plane gets anywhere near, the sky fills up with red tracers and little dots of bursting shells. When I first woke up I saw a great burst of fire but I couldn’t tell just what it was. In most cases the planes don’t come too close to our position so it’s more of a sideshow for us. A round of applause always goes up when a Jap plane is hit – most of them burst into a ball of flames and crash. Finally the excitement died down and while trying to get to sleep again, the shrill shreik of a Jap shell whistled over and drove into the mud. It was a dud, thank goodness. The sound of shells heading your way, and the later bursting crunch so hard on my nerves and I think everyone feels that way. When a shell sounds it takes about 1/10 of a second for everyone to jump in a hole. But we found the Japs many times harder and it is a mystery to me that all Japs in the island are not raving maniacs. The bombardment on L-Day was the biggest and most devastating thing I ever saw. It is source of great confidence in our forces to see battleships, cruisers and destroyers lined up pounding the Japs where it hurts the most. The sky was filled with our aircraft and the Nips dared not come near. About the only time they can pull a raid is at night. I came ashore on L plus one and we were all surprised by the orderly cultivation and rolling green hills, by far more like our own, a civilized place than what we had previously seen. I think this [is] enough on this subject.

I told you before that I had been on Leyte but I didn’t’ tell you I was on Midway also.

Had two letters today – one from each of you, but not very recent. In Mom’s letter was many clippings and the pictures of Nancy and Phil. It seems to me that Nancy looks an image of Mom, and so grown-up I could hardly believe it.

I’m glad Jack paid you a visit and I hope it made you feel better. I also think he has changed for the better and Jack seemed very considerate during our visits on Saipan and Tinian.

Boy it seems like lots of babies are being born back there, Alice C. again and J. Lupher. How many does that make [of] Luphers? I wish I had some of my own and every time you write about fixing up the place, I try to hope that someday I’ll be fixing mine the same way. Dad made a lot of good comments about home and so forth and in every one of his letters, I think we get a little closer to each other.

The talk with everyone now is rotation – those planes are turning up again and I think most of the older fellows are expecting to get back in a few months. And somehow I feel the same way. Even the thought of getting home seems like a dream.

Better taper off I guess – I’m feeling fine and living careful, so don’t worry.

Love,

22 April 1945

Dear Folks:

In keeping with my promise to write often here is another letter. I was told today that a Red Cross message had been received, which was sent by you. I know how you must be worried and what a strain it is on you, much more so than you indicate in your letters. But I am really fine and feeling well and in little danger. I’m sure before the year is over I will be home then all this period of worry about me will be over. I can well imagine how you feel with Phil gone, but we’ll have to ride it out, and remember it is always darkest just before the dawn. So believe me Mom, I’m okeh.

Today was Sunday but it was noon before I realized it. I had intended to write a slug of letters today but something always came up to keep me from it. Getting the news each day for the paper takes some time and in addition I collect individual stories for the hometown papers. Anyway about four, I managed to get a bath such as it was, so now I feel pretty good. For dinner today we had steaks, yes, good fresh steaks. Some of the boys killed a cow and they did a good job in butchering and cooking it. We are eating from the kitchen which beats cooking your own rations.

They say the good souvenirs on this island are lacquer vases and dishes, supposed to be rare collector’s items. I hope I can manage to find some, although Dick and I resolved not to hunt military souvenirs as it is sometimes too dangerous and it’s getting too close to rotation to be taking any chances. In Dick’s jeep the other day, he already had a candry sword taken from a Jap they killed near his foxhole.

I rode through the civilian camp the other day and had a close look at the people. Almost all of them are really young or very old, the rest behind the Jap lines. The old people are sorry sights. Their skin is deep wrinkled, they are bent over, and they look all the worse for the black clothes they wear. They are unemotional although some bow low from the waist as though we were Jap gods or something. I guess they are cooperative and harmless. The young children smile and wave or laugh. Our troops hardly notice them and probably they will be better off than ever after it’s all over.

Well I’m going to amble over to the radio for awhile and hear a little music and shoot a little bull, then get ready to turn in.

So much for this time.

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,

23 March 1945

Dear Folks:

I’m afraid this won’t be much of a letter but any word is good I know. Just received the news of Phil’s induction into the Navy and I feel wonderful about [it]. That will be much better than the Army. He will always know where his bunk is and will escape the uncomforts of foxholes and C rations. He will be alright.

So very little has happened I’m very short on news so this will about be it. Am feeling good again but always have you on my mind and wonder when I can see you again.

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,

10 January 1945

[The second of two letters written to his parents, just hours apart]

Dear Folks:

I just wrote you a letter only a few hours ago but after writing it I thought it wasn’t a very good one and I know you want to know all I can tell you. It’s a little after suppertime now and I feel pretty decent. I think by tomorrow I will feel almost up to par again, and I hope I never get another attack like that again. I’m so glad you liked the watch and I hope it was just what you wanted – Dad wrote me about it so I knew you were getting it. I can imagine Dad hardly being able to wait until Christmas. I’m darned glad to hear Phil is going to the Merchant Marines. I know he seems very young to you to be put into the world, but even though he will run into a lot of hard talking rough minded men, it won’t hurt him if he doesn’t want it to. I’m sure he will be better off there than in the Army. On a boat he always knows where he’s going to sleep, gets good food, and can always keep clean, while here you’re often moving, sleeping in the dirt and eating boxed rations. I’m glad all over, that he will (should be ‘went’?) where he did. I know you’re hearing all the news about what’s going on in the Philippines and where and what I’m doing but I can’t tell you much about that. Perhaps at some later date they will let us put out more information. About a week ago I sent you forty dollars and it will come in the form of a treasury check, probably you have received it by this time. I will probably send more next month. Also this morning I had three letters from Dad including one V-mail and one from Nancy, and to me they mean everything – other letters don’t spell much. Also there was three letters from Mom and all of them were recent. I understand our mail is routed direct from Frisco avoiding the stop at Hawaii. The mail situation has been pretty good although nothing but first class has arrived in many months. I haven’t received a Reader’s Digest in five months or a Free Press since last August, and aside from the two packages, no other boxes have arrived. But we’re expecting an avalanche one of these days. There must be tons of it somewhere.

I have thought of a couple of things that would come in handy now. One is either a rubberized bag to hold toilet articles or else a small zipper packet to hold the same thing. I think a flat folding one would be the best, pretty compact but one that will hold the standard size articles. And a good sturdy one that water and banging around won’t hurt too much, and put about three combs in it. And the other is a waterproof cigarette holder, to keep cigarettes dry and unsmashed, and a cigarette lighter with plenty of flints, I know they are hard to get and probably you can’t find them.

I think this is all I have in mind now, and twilight is starting to take over, so can’t write much longer anyhow, so goodnight once again.

Love,

5 November 1944

Dear Folks:

I guess it’s high time I tortured this typewriter again and see if I can’t take care of a few current unanswered letters. Just finished off another Sunday, an easy loafing one although a ball game this morning took a little of the vinegar out of me, and this afternoon I had no trouble sleeping. I play shortstop on the team but my prowess is doubtful.

Well last night after the show two communiques from your front were here–one with the drawing of the house layout. Even though you’re no civil engineer Dad it was plenty okeh and I looked at it a long time before I had to go to bed because I couldn’t stay awake any longer. Of course I have the whole thing figured out in my mind and I’m sure it’s fully as nice as I think it is, and you don’t know how much I’d like to make an inspection.

Hey you people when you see any clippings about me or any of the others, cut it out and put it in the envelope. We haven’t received any 2^nd class mail in two months and if I have to wait for the papers I may never receive it. So the next letter be sure and get those articles you mentioned and send them. I’m pretty anxious to see them. I don’t know how many Free Presses must be on the way but I know the number is pretty high.

Perhaps the biggest thing since D-Day happened today. We all had the long delayed pleasure of sinking our fangs into some fresh meat. Good old steak, and besides this there was the rest to go with it, so my outlook improved considerably today. After this I reposed in customary Sunday style on the bunk, read a while then slept until about four. The Army should have more days like that.

Those much discussed but elusive furloughs were again given out a few days back, but its wait some more for me. We had the drawings at the theatre, walking by a can and grabbing a slip, and the one I pulled out was the blankest looking slip of paper I ever saw. I felt a little tense like the fellows you wrote about, and when it was over felt let down and a little defeated, but there’ll be another day (I hope). To be eligible you must have two year’s overseas service, so Dick won’t be eligible until about next May or June, I believe. If it is possible to get a quota every month perhaps my time won’t be far off, although getting the quota may be problematical.

Another high spot in last week’s seven days was the first payday in six months, and of course everyone is loaded with dough. I arranged a sort of Christmas present for you and I hope I can send it in my next letter. Working in personnel I’m glad to see everyone paid off as it means less paper work and liquidates a lot of little things to accumulate.

Also received a letter from Nancy last night and she sounds like she’s growing up. I’ll be plenty surprised when I have my first look at Philip and her because probably I don’t realize how much they’ve actually changed.

I think I better take off for the cinema–our shows start at six so I have to hurry to write you. I really enjoy your letters Dad. You put all the stuff in that interests me more than you think, and your style doesn’t make any difference. I wish I could tell you all I know because of course every GI has his ideas about what will happen next but I can’t say anything about that. Probably you have read about the little excitement we had the other night. Well I’ve really gotta stop and I’ll be around again soon.

Love,

20 September 1944

Dear Folks:

Started out to see a show tonight at the Seabee camp but after getting there found there was no show there. I’m back in camp again ready to spend a monotonous evening. I’ll try to write one [letter] in longhand tonight although my writing is getting steadily worse. Don’t know where to begin – not much has happened. Got into a bridge game last night with some real competition but we finally came out on top. Haven’t been a low man for sometime now. We had several fine howls and missed a small slam three times.

Some of the civilians have been released on [faded] you can see a few of them walking with packs on their backs or driving two-wheel carts carrying whatever they can find to begin building again. Of course they are under restriction and can only move in certain areas. I still hate the looks of all of them – they look too sour and mysterious to me. Yesterday I saw four men and a woman walking along the road. The woman was carrying a load that I don’t think I could carry and the men paid no attention to her difficulty. I guess Japanese women are handy gadgets instead of human beings.

In order to find something to write about I’ll take a couple of Dad’s letters and see what I can comment about. In the first place we’ve got our house pretty well waterproofed now, although an especially drenching rain may cause a little leak. It rains almost every day without fail and sometimes a rain comes out of a clear sky in five or ten minutes. We catch the rainwater in buckets and use it to wash clothes with and occasionally take a bath in.

I’d like to see Nancy as a cheerleader and I’ll bet she makes a good one. I suppose Phil plays his heart out in football and will probably get banged up plenty before the season is over. [illegible next sentence]

Every time you write about Gramp’s melons I drip at the mouth and my head begins to swim. Boy, how good an ice cold watermelon would taste – I would eat a 100 lb. one myself.

I’m always wondering what the house looks like now and don’t forget the pictures if you can possibly get them. And it does my heart good to know that you are now able to fix it up as you have always wanted to fix a home up.

Am getting around to Christmas again. I think a fruit cake is a darn good idea. And here’s another, I can use a pen and pencil set. I still have the one you sent me about two years ago but I have good [faded] one in the office – and can you put my name on it?

For some reason tonight I was thinking back to my younger days of mine when things were a little tougher for us and Dad tried to explain to me just why they were that way and I couldn’t quite see it. Now I hope all that has changed and you can both carry out some of the yearned for plans you must have had. And you know whatever I have can be used by you.

Well [faded] says it’s time to think of bed and I feel like a good sleep tonight so better slip this in an envelope and get it on its way.

Love,