Postwar dreams Archives - Page 4 of 4

13 May 1943

Dear Folks:

To answer your letter that came today and in better time than most, I am probably thinking of the same thing that you are tonight and that is how soon I can see Dick. I wrote to him a few days ago but so far haven’t received a reply. There is no use in telling you how much I’m chaffing because I can’t see him right away. I was thinking the other night (of) how many letters you have to write and how busy you must be to keep up with our demands. Probably you have written more the last two years than in your lifetime. I’m really glad to know that you bought the Buxby(?) house and nothing must ever make us give it up. Asking me the other night about being a bachelor, that reminds me of the dream I had last night. I was spending my money for house furnishings (in) prepatory to getting married. Quite a pleasing dream but seemed a long way from reality.

You said in one of your letters a while back that you had some negatives of Dan and Carol. I would like to have one of their pictures very much. Last night I played bridge but it was a bad session. Tonight there’s a fellow sitting opposite me slapping a guitar with great gusts but not so bad, so perhaps my tastes are depreciating. Tonight I borrowed a fiddle for a few minutes but it had such a dull flattened tone that I returned it soon. I even felt a little sentimental, recalling the first day I stood with nine others and began my lessons, and then remembering further the symphony at Nebraska and the brief luck I had at forceful and sensuous music. I guess this is the end of another episode. I’m afraid the cable arrived too late for your big day but I hope it conveyed some of my thoughts of you.

Love,

18 February 1943

Dear Dad:

I received your typewritten V-mail today and to attest to my vow of early reply, here I come. Your letter was very interesting and I took a long time reading it. Your free style manner of detail and continuity add a punch of zest and life. Anyway I like ‘em bushels and you should write more often. In case you haven’t guessed, to write a lengthy and appealing letter over here is quite a task and often I quit in disgust. I hope you liked what I sent a while back but I think you will go more for what I sent yesterday. As a result I am on a precariously balanced budget for the rest of the month, but that is nothing new. And I had a great deal of satisfaction in sending them. I’m drawing seventy-nine bucks every thirty days now so I plan to increase my allotment to about thirty-five dollars. By the way I’m a corporal now. That’s where the extra dough is coming from. I hope the bonds have started to come regularly now. Tonight, or the forepart of it, was very unusual. For the first time in the Army I got into a bridge game and by a real stroke of luck came out on top. It was contract so I did more guessing than anything else. My partner and I worked together like a pistol and a wheel. Today two Free Presses came but I couldn’t figure out the handwriting on the wrapper. The Reader’s Digest also came. Since the latest postal regulations, mail has been slower and not so frequent but on the whole it is pretty good. Perhaps you wouldn’t think it would get very chilly here but I’m using an overcoat and raincoat along with three blankets. If I had a mattress it would seem much warmer though. In my estimation a bed is man’s best friend and when I get home I’m going to stretch in all four directions at one time. The war news seems to be changing color every day and I’m earnestly reviving hopes of a homecoming in early 1944. This is the end of the communiqué tonight. In a way I hate to stop but I couldn’t think of anything anyway. I’ll buy you a banana leaf hat for your garden this summer.

Love,

2 January 1943

Dearest Folks:

I’ve really been slackening up writing you and I don’t know why-guess time is going faster than I realize, but lately I have been working in a personnel office and there are many things to find out that I didn’t know. It’s pretty good work—I hope I like it and make out good. Cinemas are available every night here and instead of staying in the billet, writing and reading like I should, I takeoff for the theatre and swat mosquitoes between shifting my aching posterior. The one tonight was a solid murder muddle.

Yesterday was one of those days again that mean a little respite from the routine—it was the first and I was on pass. Ate a good heap of grub then took off for town. Went to the dance at the gym and for the first time the ratio of she’s to he’s wasn’t so great as the last time. Went quite a few rounds and almost didn’t make it back in time.

Here are a few pictures I took when I was on pass. The pictures of the stage and the meal were all taken during the ‘luau’ that I told you about. Most of the fellows seem to be surveying the offering with a quizzical curiosity. I took one of myself with a tentacle of squid dangling from my mouth but apparently it didn’t turn out. The hat I’m wearing is a native boy’s version in palm leaves of a Dobbs cross-country. In some of the pictures you can see the cloud formations I was telling you about.

I had a letter from Dick a few days ago sent from Oklahoma but he didn’t say enough to tell much what he was doing. I hope the next one will be a little more comprehensive. Had a two page manuscript from Gram and a card from the Peters. I never have answered any of the cards sent to me for Christmas and I better make a resolution and do something about it.

It’s really hard to write a letter-or at least it is for me-so little happens that is not patterned and too, I can’t mention everything. But things are very comfortable, good housing, good food and enough facilities for recreation. That’s my version although it might not be everyones. There are all kinds of predictions pro and con on the war topic but the news seems to be looking up-at least as we hear and read it-and I believe it is, although what is ahead will undoubtedly be the toughest.

Now I’m coming to the end of this and that’s always the most difficult part—how to end a letter properly. Maybe I won’t be so crude and unconscious of the time and trouble mixed in my recipe for the last twenty years or so when this is over. I know I want to get back and go to school again. I think about you all the time. Goodnight.

Love,

22 December 1942

Dearest Folks:

I have plenty of time this evening so here’s another dubious attempt at a letter. A poker game is going on nearby and it’s a temptation but have several letters to answer. I engage in the sport to some extent but not enough to imperial my finances. I had two letters today, one from you and one from Nancy. I seldom miss a day for letters unless there is no mail at all. Your letters arrive in pretty good time but often not in the order you write them, for instance the ones today were dated earlier than your last airmail. Censorship precludes giving the exact date, the theory being the enemy might be able to ascertain by schedules, our station. Yesterday the piece of wedding cake came. It was hard but I nibbled on it and ate the candy. The bells add a little to the adornment of my bunk. Also the Reader’s Digest came. There is an article in it called “Never Shoot An Hawaiian Twice”. I’ve heard the story over here several times.

I don’t know what I’m going to write about for news. I suppose you have the papers by now. This weeks (battalion newspaper) is out done up in a little fancy Xmas cover. I’ll send it. Gladys Davis has been writing regularly and gives me the dope on the guys that I lived with. I sure want to go back. If Congress passes the six month’s pay for the expiration perhaps it would be easier but anything may be a long shot now. Maybe I’m wrong but I believe after the war there will be many opportunities. With the organization and development that aircraft will undoubtedly realize, every country in the world will be open to development. Wait and see.

This is all I can dig up tonight. I can’t realize its Christmas but every time I hear a carol it beings back plenty.

Love,

7 November 1942

Dear Folks:

I don’t know how long I can hang on but here goes nothing. My mail has been pretty good lately and I want to keep it that way. Among others had a letter from Mrs. Davis–she sounds like she’s a little better off than when I was there—boy how I long to get back there. Another letter, V one was from Nancy and I’ll get busy on that one pronto.

I had forgotten about the battalion pictures but I’m glad you got them—guess that will always be a shining relic. It isn’t too good a picture but that’s not important.

Glad Mrs. Carroll liked my letter—I like to get one from her occasionally too—she gave me Duane’s address but I lost the letter.

I haven’t received the Free Presses yet but expect they’ll be here soon. I’m anxious to see one of them.

Answered a letter of Katie’s last nite—sounds like she’s bouncing around in the blue.

Your letters are very readable. I mean the V-mail—it shows up well. Well the war news has been looking up lately and I think it will until it’s over—news like that makes me feel better all over. The current bit of lingo is buying a ticket on the “A” train for home.

This has got to be it for another letter I guess—Sunday—tomorrow and hope I make it to church —there is an Episcopal one in town and a nice one too.

Goodnite and keep your eyes off the dark clouds—they’ll just be niches in a lifetime someday.

Love,

17 October 1942

Dear Folks:

I don’t feel very disposed to write but maybe I’ll get that way if I get started. This is (a) far different Saturday nite than I used to spend at home–writing letters and listening to the radio. Your letters have been arriving regularly but I notice you still are using the old organization address. Don’t forget to change it or my mail may be held up sometime. Maybe if I dig up your letter I can find something to write about. I can’t tell you how far I am from Ft. Shafter as that is on the ‘verboten’ list but I wouldn’t be able to see him. I have his address but haven’t written to him. Listened to a football game today from the mainland and sitting in my shorts seemed far away from the chilly football season. Heard Nebraska got beaten by Minnesota. Gladys Davis has been writing me regularly and she keeps me in touch with Lincoln. And yesterday I received a letter from a Mrs. Hartnett, a lady who lived on the same floor apartment as Mrs. Davis and who often filled in our bridge games. She was one of the sweetest, and best looking by the way, of any women I’ve seen in a long time. I was very surprised to get (it) and I felt like a chimney sweep when I answered her letter. With all the experiences in Lincoln, I surely want to get back. She wrote that there are more students on the campus than she had ever seen.

Had four letters today and in good time too. In your Xmas package, wrap it securely—the way they toss them around is something drastic. I couldn’t make up a list on a bet but personal things are always needed. Goin’ to play Monte Carlo now—goodnite. I’m to damn well off to be respectable.

Love,

19 January 1942

Dear folks:

I just mailed you a letter only this afternoon but thought I’d write another because you have some questions. If you could only see me writing this letter you’d be quite amused I believe. I’m in a tent as you know and it’s nite and we are using candles until lights are installed. There are five in our tent but only 3 of us are here. Two are cutting wood for the little inverted ice cream cone shaped stove we have and I’m sitting down leaning on my cot with a candle sitting atop a tent stake being used as a candleholder. The fellows in my tent are attached to headquarters battery which includes a lineman, an artillery mechanic, the bugler, a driver and myself, assistant battery clerk. So we hear the bugle plenty good and loud. Our schedule now is reveille at 5:55 and calestinics at six fifteen and breakfast at six forty five. It’s a little hard getting started some mornings but exercises loosen up the kinks.

Now to get around to your letter and go thru it as the questions come up. The first item is the sweater, yes, a nice sleeveless sweater would come in handy. Several of the fellows have them. Olive drab or khaki is the best color. The next is the mail, it’s all coming thru okay I believe. I got the two bucks, the Free Press regularly and other mail. All but the box. The boys in the tent say that as soon as you put in a claim on it they will dig it up pronto. I’m very disappointed. If they do get it here and it appears mutilated and rifled, I’ll turn it over to the post office here. Now comes around reading. The USO is plentifully supplied with all kinds of magazines but the Readers Digest is about the only one I read. Until we get lights in our tent I can’t do much but currently I’m reading ‘The Fight for Life’ by Paul DeKriuf. It’s plenty good and an eye-opener as to the prevalency of diseases. About three weeks ago I applied for a city library card but it had to be signed by a city property holder and with the constant prospect of moving in a hurry it’s a little risky. No, we’re not getting any leaves yet. Just today I applied for a twenty four hour leave to Coronado but I couldn’t even get by the first sergeant to see the battery commander. I called Grandma yesterday nite and I think they are coming up again Sunday. June always wants to know if there is anything I need. Yep, it might have been me calling you that nite, from taps ‘till reveille. I think about home and all the family.

I went to church yesterday and I could remember most of the prayers without using the book. After the service a lady turned around and shook hands and asked me if I was an Episcopalian and when I replied ‘all my life’ she said ‘I thought you were’. She asked me to join the choir.

I guess that’s all the questions. I really feel swell and getting heavier all the time. I took some pictures today of me climbing up the tent trying to put on the last joint of chimney and keep from sliding down at the same time. Hope they are good.

Well goodnite Mom and Dad and don’t feel too low. I want to go back to school all the more now but we’ll see how things come out.

Better send me your pictures so I can set them in front of me when I write.

Love,