Prisoners of war natives Archives

5 August 1945

Dear Folks:

Am burning up a little time waiting for a show so I may as well write. The show is ‘Blood on the Sun’ with James Cagney. Should be good. I’ve heard a lot about it.

Well today was Sunday so I didn’t do much. Went to church this morning at eleven, again tonight at six to a communion service. The chapel is something to be proud of – each Sunday it looks a little better. The chaplain now is a Mormon, and a pretty good one.

We also got paid today and I sent you another twenty bucks. Sounds like a few poker games are going now that some money is in circulation. I’ve been playing mostly hearts and pinochle nowdays.

Had a letter from Duane a few days ago. Wants me to be sure to see him – he has some pictures of Marge and the baby to show me. He also said Jack C. was going to get out of the Army – boy what a deal that is? I don’t see how he can do it. He always has it easy in his outfit and hardly know what combat is. Don’t let his decorations fool you – but when you see an Infantry guy or one like Dick you know they earned it. I heard a rumor today that all over 85 [points] would be off this island before the end of September. But let me warn you it is only rumor and I don’t believe anything until it actually happens. The CO told us again yesterday those of us with 85 would not go into combat and if the outfit left, we would stay. That is a big relief.

The other day we had a bunch of Okinawans come up to do some work in the area and they were all women. But how they can work, better than men. They are short and some pretty pudgy and most of them wear what looks like golf pants. A couple of young ones looked pretty cute but most look like the effects of a life of work and drudgery. Most of the civilians seem pretty cooperative.

Getting dark and that means show time so better get going. So until the next time.

Love,

16 July 1945

Dear Folks:

I’m taking it easy this afternoon but can’t sleep much ‘cause it’s too hot, so maybe I can catch up on a few letters. Boy, it’s been hot the last couple of weeks and today it’s really warm, one of those prewar, stateside days when you went to the lake and swam and ate watermelon. Have had no opportunity to go swimming although the ocean looks cool and blue from the hills. At some spots in the hills there are beautiful views of the harbor and coastline, green near the beach and deep blue farther out. Looking down on this at night, it is a myriad of lights, like travelog pictures of Rio de Janiero. I know you would be amazed at the vast amount of construction and activity here. It seems almost a miracle to me how fast big machinery and installations go to work and how fast the landscape changes. Now we have broad three and four lane highways where before our trucks had to be tractor-towed to get through. When I returned to places I had seen earlier in the campaign I could hardly find my way around. The face of the island had been changed so much. In the villages and cities the civilians are picking through the rubble piles salvaging what they can so the mess can be cleaned up and bulldozed into a nice area. And in the fields the civilians are hoeing and harvesting what produce they can. I saw a big bunch yesterday and I noticed there was almost no guard around them. They seem cooperative and quiet.

I’m glad you wanted me to go to school because before I thought maybe you didn’t like the idea so well and thought perhaps I should do something else. I’m looking forward to it like everything.

Well the heat has deadened my stimulus for any more writing so I’ll call this good. Dad thought I might not want to talk of my experiences but as a matter of fact I am looking forward to telling you all about them. At least to you but I don’t know about other people. Well so long for now.

Love,

18 February 1945

Dear Folks:

Here it is Sunday again and even over here that means some respite even if it isn’t much. This morning the protestant chaplain had communion services. The chapel is a squad tent and the dirt floor comprises the seats. The altar is a homemade wooden affair while on either side are candles set in candlesticks made from shell cases. A small portable organ adds a slight civilian touch to the scenery but the crowd doesn’t sing out too much, most of the songs are in too high a key. I’ve seen services held in many places and under varying circumstances and I’m sure that if you could have seen a few of them it would have struck a sentimental note within you. The one I remember most was a service I saw here on the island. We were riding in trucks when I saw a long line of infantry men who looked as though they were waiting for (a) show. They were still in combat (clothing) and of course were very dirty and tired. Their rifles were on their backs, as well as some other equipment. They were lined up beside a gutted, blackened shack that perhaps they themselves had fired and destroyed only a short time ago. Around the corner, offering a slight bit of privacy, was a Catholic priest dressed in his white robes hearing confessions. The priest had a small wooden box with a cross on it and the men knelt before it. There was many men there and too (many) have wanted church under those conditions they surely must have felt a great need for help and prayer. Quite a paradoxical situation. That was just one scene and more are going on everywhere. Well so much for church.

I mailed the bolo (knife) and sandals today and I hope it has more luck in reaching you than yours to me. Be careful when you open it, the scabbard is off and the blade is exposed and it’s sharp as a razor.

Most of the afternoon I took it easy and read a little and later two Filipinos came around trying to trade off a bolo so we haggled about that awhile. They try to jew you out of all they can, and at first they got away with it.

Dan Gettman was over for a while yesterday but only a few minutes.

Had a letter from Dad today – your layout of the town is darn good. It sounds like plenty of changes have taken place.

As far as news goes, there isn’t much to relate, so I’ll wind up here.

Love,

2 February 1945

Dear Dad:

Let’s make this a man-to-man talk only put it on paper. Now that I have a little free time thought I better attempt to catch up a little and maybe write you a letter. Just opened a nice beer and earlier had a swim, and a shower so I feel good. And later will go to the show. Pretty good movies have been coming in lately.

Well my law books have caught up with me and the last two nights have looked into them some, however I believe I better send them home – you can never tell what may happen – and then of course I’m going to be home in 1945 – hm. I hate to send them back but I think it’s the best.

Well no packages have arrived so now I think the Christmas mail must have been sunk – I can’t understand where they can be. I wish more positive action would be taken by the proper authorities. And I surely would like to have some of that popcorn – with our small stove we can always pop it.

The last few days have been rainy ones and on a few occasions a blinding driving rain. I hope it never blows the tents away. It’s a job to keep dry.

For the first time in many months I put on a pair of suntans and I feel like a Sunday School boy. Before it has been fatigues.

Before I started writing you I was talking to a Sgt. in the guerillas and he was telling me of his experiences in fighting the Japs. He seemed fairly intelligent as Filipinos go. Said his brother was shot and hung by the Japs in October 1943. Some interesting tales.

Had a letter from Dick a few days ago and he seems in good spirits. I hope he continues to take it easy.

Well better quit I guess but I’ll write more tomorrow when I will have a little more time. Sent you $50.00 today. Have you received the $40.00 I sent? Are the bonds coming? You’re doing a good job of writing and they mean a lot.

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,

21 January 1945

Dear Folks:

A quiet Sunday morning and I’m taking it easy so a good time to write a letter and perhaps take care of some others. Will probably go to church services this afternoon held in the mess hall across the road. Last Sunday listened to a very good divisional chaplain. The Catholic chaplain who serves our battalion strikes me as a very understanding and likeable fellow, and I think he is the best we’ve had. I hope he comes this afternoon.

Well it was rainy yesterday and everything is mud again but this morning is hot and sunny like a typical June Sunday at home. I even feel the mood of the day, and the morning funnies would complete the setting. But instead of funnies had service records to look at.

Haven’t received any mail the past three days due to the inclement weather. The first class comes in by the plane so if it’s dirty weather, no mail. Should rate several today. No second class has yet come in.

Dan Gottman came in a few days ago with an armload of Star-Heralds and only yesterday I finished reading them. Only a few of them were later than September so everything was pretty old, but still good.

Last nite afforded something a little different in the way of eats. Supper was (a) little weak so we fried a can of bacon that we’ve been lugging around for some time. It’s the best bacon and it was certainly enjoyed. To top this we ate fruit cake that one of the boys received. Each section has a small one burner cook stove so we can heat up a meal when we’re not eating from the kitchen. Probably tonight we will cook the popcorn that the Groves sent me, if we can find anything to substitute for butter. Once in a while we get a PX issue of a few candy bars. The cigarette shortage seems to be felt here also. Now we are issued one pack every two and sometimes three days and that isn’t near enough. Plenty of smokes for the fighting front doesn’t apply here. Have been expecting a hurricane but it hasn’t materialized yet.

Slept pretty well last nite in contrast to a few restless ones. These dark nights make me afraid some Japs may bust in the area and start shooting things up. I imagine they are pretty desperate and hungry now. I always keep my pistol loaded under my pillow together with my knife. Of course we’re pretty well protected but I still wake up easily when I hear a sound.

For the past three nights have been dreaming of getting home. I hope it’s an indication. Last night I dreamt of hitting the streamliner from ‘Frisco and was nervous as a cat. But I can’t help but feel that something will happen that will get me home this year. After I get in the 30 months bracket my chances will increase. Next month the 3^rd I will complete 29.

The Gooks as we call the Filipinos, are working around the area digging drainage holes and cleaning up. It takes about four of them to do an ordinary man’s job. I think they’d be better off working for themselves but a grass hut and a bolo knife seems to satisfy them. (See how I need that pen and pencil set). This one is okeh but it needs a little coaxing occasionally and I’m always using one.

I’m certainly over the dysentery but have a slight cold that keeps my handkerchief busy.

I hope all my mail is getting to you in good order. They seem to censor and dispatch it in good time and I hope they are not too old when they get to you. All the envelopes we get stick together and it’s a job getting them open. Maybe it would be a good idea if you enclosed an airmail envelope occasionally.

I guess I haven’t anything else to write about and it’s about dinnertime now so I’ll knock off, and hope the mailman rings plenty tonight.

Love,

29 December 1944

Dear Folks:

It’s a very hot and sultry afternoon – almost too hot to work so I’ll write you a short letter. The past three days mail has been coming in by the armload and each day I’ve received no less than eight, and each one is a great morale booster. You are certainly doing a great job of writing. And the clippings always add to them. I can’t understand either why Dick hasn’t received mail but sometimes events will delay it. I’m going to write him today. No more boxes have arrived but they’ll be along. I wish you could see this place so you could appreciate more just how tough it is to clean out the Japs. And when it rains it’s really miserable. The Filipinos stream along the roads getting out of the way and packing what they can (carry) with them. They are a pretty sorry looking lot but I guess civil affairs will soon give some relief. Often at our mess lines they will (collect) garbage in old cases.

Recently I was in an operation on one of the Philippine Islands that you are reading about and I was glad when it was over. I was on an unloading detail. Saw enough Jap planes to last for a long time.

I’m afraid you are worrying considerably about me – more than you should. I’m afraid it will make you nervous and upset. I wish for your sake I could see you and make you feel better. I’m sure I’m quite the same and every bit as healthy and I’m hoping in 1945 I can prove it to you.

No, I can’t remember Dr. Fargubar, he moved out before I knew him very long. I understand he quit doctoring.

Conditions here are not bad – the rations are okeh and I have a cot to sleep on. And with no lights I get plenty of sleep.

Had Christmas cards from Edna, Emicks, Staffords, Peters and some others.

I’ll write again soon and don’t worry unduly.

Love,

23 December 1944

Dear Dad:

I thought I’d write you a letter tonight because you’ve been doing such a good job writing me. For the second time since I’ve been in the Philippines, received mail from you – one from Mom and one from Kate. Not too recent but that doesn’t make much difference. I don’t know how good the airmail service is yet so I’m sticking by V-mail which I know will get there fast. Well this afternoon about three, I took a cooling dip in the ocean – a swell place to swim – it’s better than Waikiki Beach. Reread your letters then went to supper. Probably will see a show tonight. Air raids sometimes force the movie to stop but so far we’ve been able to see every one through. Opposite from where I’m sitting, two Filipino women are pounding rice in holes cut into coconut logs. After pounding it they hold the rice in the breeze and let it blow away the chaff. I certainly wish you could spend a day here and see how they live. About all they eat is fish, rice and coconuts. One girl is 21 and has had five children – nothing slow about them. Of course the money here is pesos and centouos which we are paid in. Haven’t been paid yet but I have some pesos. Two pesos equal one buck.

Mom was inquiring about reassignment. Under the rotation plan you are returned and reassigned but on a furlough you return overseas. Both prospects are getting dimmer as I see it and I don’t look forward to either one although I expect to see something happen after Germany is whipped.

Well, I’ll stop here and get ready for the show. Don’t worry for I’m fine.

Love,

21 December 1944

Dear Folks:

The more I write the more I know you will be relieved so here’s a few minutes before bedtime for a short letter. Just returned from a show, a clearing in the coconut trees. The natives were there and as it was a ‘horse opera’ they loudly voiced their approval. All women have babies but they don’t make much noise. Not many good looking ones. They want mattress covers or any kind of clothing to put together a shapeless gown. Every other one is pregnant so perhaps the dresses should be that way. A few of them said the Japs gave them a bad time, but I guess the Nips got some in return. I’m getting lots to eat and some good sleep also, so don’t worry. It seems to be cooler here and a swim occasionally feels good. I can’t seem to sit down and write a long newsy letter but perhaps later. But don’t worry for I’m perfectly okeh and going to stay that way.

Love,

20 December 1944

Dear Folks:

I suppose you have been wondering what has happed to me since you haven’t had any letters for sometime. Things have happened that kept me from writing and which I can’t explain very fully. But I had some excitement and felt a little uncomfortable at times. But anyway I’m alright. Maybe I can get back to writing you more regularly now. Had six letters from you yesterday including the pictures of the house and the Waids. They were so damn good to get. And the letter was read a dozen times. I have received only two packages so far but things seem to be arriving every day. They will be here soon. The weather has turned good lately and it’s a relief from the rain. The Filipino population is around us everywhere and they are quite the business people. They wash clothes for a peso or two and are always bargaining for cigarettes and rations. Lately our movie has been working and of course they stand around and chatter and giggle. They especially titter during love scenes and have their own interpretations of what’s going on. Most of them can talk enough English to understand what you are trying to say. They live in small grass huts with chickens sharing the quarters. And each family has a hollowed out log for a boat. Each afternoon I usually manage a cooling swim in the warm ocean.

Well I know this isn’t adequate but perhaps I can write more often now. I’m fine and feeling swell. Starting to turn yellow from malaria tablets but it’ll wear off. I’ve thought about you often and how wonderful are the ways of peace. See you in ’45 I hope – I bet.

Love,