Radio news 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,

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,

14 August 1945

Dear Folks:

I just spent the last two days with Dick, and I know that would be good news to you, so before I get into bed I better tell you about it. He called me up yesterday at noon and said he wanted to see me so I made arrangements to go. We had a good time together, talked a lot, read each other’s mail, and of course discussed the big news about Japan. I was kind of expecting the official news of Japan’s surrender to come over while we were together but we’re still waiting. Now tonight I hear over the radio that Domei has announced that Japan has accepted the terms – now we are waiting for something official over the American radio. As a matter of fact a few moments ago they said to standby for some important news, but as yet it hasn’t come. Of course I couldn’t tell you how we both feel about it – I know you feel the same. Dick was looking good and husky. He is a corporal now – probably he wouldn’t mention it to you. He’s very well liked in his outfit and sure is a regular guy. I know what his plans are now and what is going to happen to his outfit but I can’t tell you about it. Of course it isn’t bad. Last night we went to the show together and nearly got rained out. Then today he showed me how close he came to getting ’it’ a while back. He was supposed to go out in an M-8 armored car as he had often done, but this time for some reason he didn’t go. And he was lucky for in his usual seat the cushions were full of bullet holes from the Jap machine gun. Better give another thank you to the Lord. Of course you know how he will tell it. But he’s having it pretty decent now although not anything extra. However I don’t worry near like I did about him now that the war appears to be near an end. It’s hard to say what the war’s end will mean towards our getting home – probably a new plan again. Just when I get eligible for something another scheme comes out. Of course, like it must [be] to you, days seem long as the devil until we can see you again. One thing we agreed upon was that when we get back we are going to completely [be] lazy and independent for a little while. And of course as we always do, we talked about the wonderful food you would provide and how you both would bust your necks to do everything. And then we talked about how the guys around home are marrying the Russians and vice versa and saw the wisdom of some parent’s advice given us when we were temperamental and less prone to reason. We thought Dad should stick with the gas company for a while at least and that it would be a very good idea for Nancy to go to Washington for a while. I think she should see something besides Minatare too or she may fall in the rut that some others have. We couldn’t get over the way the guys and gals are marrying back there. According to Dick his friendship with Helen Emick is purely platonic, but his tent mates give me a different story. Finally I left but this time when I left I felt much better than some other times I’ve known. To have the war end now is almost unbelievable and like taking a great weight off you.

Well so much for this time. I’ll try to write some more about it tomorrow night.

Love,

11 August 1945

Dear Folks:

It’s been sometime since I’ve written so I better settle down and get some written. Events have been transpiring fast and my morale has been improving. Last night I was playing cards when somebody ran down the streets yelling ‘turn on the radio’. We did and heard it say the Japs were ready to surrender. Although our battery didn’t take it hook, line, and sinker apparently the rest of the island did, because searchlights went on, and machine guns and anti-aircraft began firing, and the sky was colored with red tracers. It looked like a Hollywood premier. Although we know this may not be the real thing, something is definitely going on and perhaps this is the first step. The thought of the war being over is too much to grasp at once, and I know just how you would both feel if it is time.

Today I heard on the radio that a Jap emissary was coming here on a warship to discuss negotiations. I understand they want to leave the emperor in his position. Dad certainly called his shots good – Russia coming in and now talk of peace. At least it looks like you are quite the prophet.

Tomorrow is Sunday and I see on the bulletin board that an Episcopal communion [service] is being held at eight-thirty. I better go.

Last night after the excitement and after I had got into bed, the CO had a few of us in for some drinks. The first whisky I had tasted in ages, and it didn’t set too good with any of us. I didn’t feel so hot this morning and had to stand [during] inspection at nine-thirty. But we had the rest of the day off and tonight I feel pretty good. A pretty good show on tonight so I better go down.

A few days ago we worked an afternoon and put a floor in our tent. The first time I’ve had a floor in a long time. Well it makes pretty good quarters. We are having it pretty easy now, no wonder in the afternoons, but it’s almost too hot to work anyway. Played a little softball a few days ago and got a sore, swelled finger out of it. About as big as a weeny.

Men have been leaving every day on readjustment but they are still quite a way from my name. Each morning it looks like a railroad depot with guys shaking hands and saying goodbye. After living together for several years and going through operations together, you sometimes feel a little sentimental about seeing some of them go.

The magazines arrived – two big envelopes and a Free Press today. Also the mimeograph letters and styles came. Unfortunately the paper deal fell through, but we can still use them for other work.

Well this will have to do for another time. Sorry I didn’t write sooner but I’ll try to get on the ball a little more.

Love,

6 July 1945

Dear Folks:

Expect to see a show again this evening but first I better take care of my obligations. Had a letter from you Dad today. Mail is good.

Well yesterday General Stilwell spoke over Radio Okinawa. It was in his usual undiplomatic, colorful style. During it he said, “As soldiers you know what war is and no one else does. I’m not going to talk about glorious victories, because I know you would say ‘horse feathers’, or worse, and turn off the radio.” My first speech to hear from him left a good impression. And of course I caught this, “For those of you who have the points and will be going home, we will be sorry to see you leave, and will have great responsibilities to carry on.” It was a good speech.

Just for something to write about here’s something funny as hell that happened, and let you know a little how we feel. One of the guys found a brassiere someplace and at evening mess of course he was forced to put it on. This guy is a born comic anyway and the antics he did with it put everyone in stitches. It was really funny.

The wheels of demobilization seem to be turned a little and I look forward to being home as I’ve said before. But the main thing that (this paper is not good to write on) [Harold moved to another sheet of paper, leaving over half of this sheet blank] that is that I’m sure there will be no more combat for me. I can sweat out what time remains.

Boy, was I surprised about Major Bowers and Fred Meyers.

I’m afraid I can’t dig up anything more for tonight so I’ll call this quits.

Love,

2 July 1945

Dear Folks:

I haven’t been writing all I should lately but it seems like when I have the time I don’t feel like it and vice versa. The weather has been steaming hot and it kind of knocks the sap out of you. Two days from the 4^th [of July] and I suppose it will be hot as hell. The nights are cool and with a slight breeze from the ocean. The stars come out bright and close every night. The days are long and it’s about eight o’clock before it gets dark.

Two days ago Dick called me up about eleven thirty in the morning and even though I was busy, managed to get off for the afternoon. All we could do was find a shady place and talk but that was enough. We talked about everything as usual and swapped mail. He is looking good but was covered with dust from the long ride he made to get to me. Soon we will be [in] a permanent area and then I [am] going to try and have him spend a few days with me. He is not having it too tough and before long he will be taking it easy. I think we have much to be thankful for as we both came through alright. I feel almost certain this will be my last combat and that is a great load off my mind. Sometimes you think maybe something will happen the next time. The artillery fire we got a couple of times was making me pretty nervous, but it’s kind of humorous to think about afterwards – some of the incidents that took place. Dick and I both remarked about how our knees got to shaking a couple of times and even if you grab hold of them they still shake, even after the danger has past.

Your mail reaches me in as good a time as mine gets to you so you see how good the service is. And almost everyday I get one from someone. I received one of the first class Free Presses, and the most recent I’ve yet gotten but the packages and other magazines must still be on the way.

I have been allowed to tell you I’m in the XXIV Corps and I will wear that patch when I get back. It is a white circle with two blue hearts. My stateside uniform will look colored up with the Asiatic Pacific Ribbon with two stars, the Philippine Liberation with one star, good conduct, and American defense ribbons. I will have six overseas bars and one three-year bar. I will look like a veteran. But I hope it won’t be too long til its Mr. Moss and current scuttlebutt says it will. I think that regardless of what others say. My old eyes got misty as hell last night when I went over to the radio and heard some music that I used to play in the symphony at [the University of] Nebraska. What I want to do when I get back is just be a complete independent loafer for a few weeks and sleep every morning til ten, and then get up and eat strawberries and cream on breakfast food and tear into some fresh eggs and milk, then stick around the house and look at Dad and you and get re-acquainted. Another thing I’m looking forward to is new clothes, it will seem funny not to have everything the same. I will get $300 at discharge and I suppose it will take about all of that for a new outfit.

You probably haven’t been receiving any bonds. The last one should have been for February but before long you will get four at one time. They are only sent when we get paid and I haven’t been paid for four months. About the only good aspect of this place is that you can save money. To control inflation we can draw only ten bucks a month and the rest must go home. So I will probably have something over a hundred to send. I hope I will apply my savings in a wise manner when I get back and I would appreciate postwar ideas from both of you. Dick and I talked over my orchard deal and he is for it so I told him I would investigate when I got back and find out first hand its possibilities. I would like to go in [to] the deal where Dick could farm as he wants to and me be the partner but an inactive one. I think the Army has made me want something solid and be my own boss. I have had enough orders directed at me. Some officers think they are right solely because of their rank regardless of what an enlisted man may think and sometimes I feel like it’s a slave and master set up. But that’s not true of all of them but a few can make it bad.

Haven’t seen Duane for a long time. I wonder what he thinks now. He was pretty cocksure and had certain ideas of how to win this war. He thinks he’s going to be home soon but how in the world he figures it, I don’t know. I suppose Marge is getting fatter every day. Wished I had a heart interest myself. These married guys really say it’s great.

I hope I can read my law books again soon when we get settled down. I’ve hauled them around in a box since Oahu. On Leyte I gave one to a Philippine school and they were really glad to get it. Also I expect to get some books on advertising. I signed up for an Army Institute course about three weeks ago. If I get out this year I think I’ll get back in school, sometimes I think by golly I’ll get an education and a good one if I don’t have anything else. I may be a little older but there will probably be plenty like me. But I don’t know just how I will feel when I get ….

[possible page missing]

wonder when his discharge was coming.

I started to quit once before and I better do it this time. So adios for another time.

Love,

1 June 1945

Dear Folks:

I haven’t written you for several days so I imagine you feel a little anxious. But the fact is, it has been so rainy and muddy that I couldn’t get myself to sit down to write. I think the worst part of the campaign is over, so you can feel much better. The hardest part has gone by for me, and I think the Japs are standing on their last legs now. For some time now there hasn’t been any shells come over, which is a great relief to me. And after the campaign is over, I think we will have it easy for a while, and get a little beer and movies.

Received a letter from Dad yesterday, about the only (thing) that has come in the past three or four days. Maybe the inclement weather has kept the mail planes down. Over 13” inches (of rain) fell in the past week, so you can imagine how the water must have been flowing around here. Contrary to the weatherman’s prediction that June 1^st would be the climax of the rain, today is sunshiny and sultry. Had a chance to get most of my stuff dried out. I had a lot of pictures in my billfold and they all got soaked. I have them laying in the grass now to dry out a little. But the sky always looks like another storm could break any time. Then they tell us the typhoon season begins around the 15^th. I’ve never been in a typhoon, but if they are like what I’ve seen in shows and read about, I’m not looking forward to them. But we’ll be expecting them and prepare for it.

Haven’t seen Dick or Duane since our visit quite a long time ago. But I know Dick is too far away to see me very conveniently. I don’t know where Duane is, but I’ll locate him after the island is secured. I wrote to Dick a week ago but haven’t heard from him yet. I’m sure he is okeh.

From my standpoint, nothing exciting has happened. Since the nights the Jap landed some troops behind the lines by airplanes, there has not been many planes over. Sometime ago I was standing on a hill looking into the bay when a Jap plane suddenly appeared without warning. Black flak hit all around him but he kept flying straight then dove straight for a ship. I was pulling like hell the gunners would get him before he hit the ship. He kept coming down then he burst into a ball of fire and hit the ocean. I felt like I did when the home team made a touchdown. Then after he hit a shell came whistling over and the six guys standing around my hole all dove into it, me on the bottom, with our heads as low as we could get them. You’d be surprised how fast you can move. But it was the only one and slowly heads began to reappear and then most everybody starts laughing when they think of how fast they got undercover. One night the 1^st sergeant and I were listening to the radio when we heard a whistle. Having no prepared hole immediately available, we both hit a small ditch which wasn’t long enough. My usual speed put me in the ditch first, and he dove on top, laying behind me with his nose in my buttocks, which was humorous when the excitement was over.

Haven’t heard from Wylma for a long time. Could you find out what the score is?

I haven’t had enough to start another page so I’m going to the aid station to work a crossword puzzle.

Love,

22 May 1945

Dear folks:

Two letters from the home front today—one from each of you so that deserves a letter from me.

I see Mom tried to figure points and I knew you would. Yes, I have more than the required 85 and I hope it means something.

Reading a newspaper clipping today it says that over three hundred thousand are to be released from the Pacific this year. We heard a lot of stuff but it’s a little early to see how it will work, but I can’t help but feel that eventually something good will come of it. Dick gets 5 points for his Purple Heart. A few fellows left from the battalion this morning for a furlough in the states and they came around and shook hands and said goodbye. It’s quite an occasion. They had their choice of taking a furlough or waiting for rotation and decided on the former.

I just took a bath in that shower I described to you last night and right now I feel good. The Jap artillery has considerably slackened off and that helps my nerves very much.

Last night the Japanese pulled another of their fanatical bonzai attacks for an hour and a half. Our artillery and naval ships laid down an unending hail of shells. There was a constant distant rumble. Often the ships sitting offshore use tracers, and you can easily follow their trajectory as they go high in the air and lob into Jap territory. At the same time they attempted another landing, and you could see our ship’s lights and flares showing up the beach like daylight. Jap barges were barely discernible from where I was, and I understand not a one of them got to shore. The fighting on the south end of the island must be a classic example of the fury, the slaughter and devastation that erupts from war. They say Noba is completely leveled and the stench of the dead is nauseating. With some two hundred thousand civilians cramped in the little area you can imagine the suffering and death that must be everywhere.

But my own situation continues favorable and less dangerous. I am fortunate to be behind the lines. Once in a while some infantrymen come over to listen to our radio and I notice a surprising number have graying hair.

The last few nights I have found something to do. I’ve been working crossword puzzles. I go over to the aid station where they have lights, and the evening goes very fast that way. As a matter of fact time seems to slip by very fast. It seems like I no more than get started in the day, before it’s over.

The rain hasn’t been bad lately as a matter of fact the weather has been good, although tonight the sky looks like a storm may be brewing.

I’m sure you don’t reread my letters any more than I do yours. Every time I get a free moment I pull one out and read over and over the letter and reread some parts I like. But I know how anxious you are and I worry sometimes that you may worry too much, but I’m sure if we can all stick it out for 6 or 9 months longer, all will come out alright. I keep your mail and save it for Dick.

I know last Sunday was Mother’s Day and I hope very much that you received my V-mail card.

Well it’s beginning to get dusk and I better make up my bed and get this letter off. I have to make my bed a special way so that cold won’t leak in.

So much for this time.

Love,

12 May 1945

Dear folks:

Had a nice letter from Dad today so I feel like I better answer it. I could feel in the letter that you are worrying a lot, and more than you really should, because I’m sure everything will come out alright.

Nobody is talking anything else these days but discharge and rotation since the WD announced it’s new plan. But I keep feeling that someone along the line will put the kibosh on it. It seems like this outfit seldom gets a break. Today we got a furlough quota of 2 while almost everyone in the battery is eligible. You see how tough it is to get one. This is the first quota since back on Tinian. It seems like all this stuff is meat dangled in front of you but you can never quite reach it. But what I am chiefly interested in is that something takes effect before I get in another operation.

Had a letter from Aunt Edna and one from Pat today. So I rated pretty good on the mail. But I should (since) I’m trying to keep it coming by writing often. Still no mail from Wylma, can’t figure it out—at least an answer.

Early this morning the Japs sent some shells this way but it didn’t last long. The shellings are less frequent than before. According to the radio, they have killed over 38,000 Japs which is a pile of them. An infantryman told me they counted 537 Japs in one cave. As an idea of how the Japs are dug in, is well illustrated by the story D. Carroll told me. He said he saw one cave dug in a hillside capable of holding 25-30 vehicles. You can imagine how hard it is to dig them out. They use slit trenches as deep as 20 feet and pillboxes two or three stories with several exits and entrances. The hills are honeycombs of tunnels and fortified caves. But despite the better fight in the Southern end, there is great construction activity on the other, and every night the lights look like a fair sized city. When an air raid sounds one by one the lights snuff out. Then comes the buzz of a plane and suddenly the sky fills with streams of tracers, bullets, and more often than not, the plane bursts into flames and crashes. We watch the show and pull like hell that the gunners will get him. If they do, we cheer and if they don’t we think they aren’t worth a damn.

Well, so much for tonight. Tomorrow is Sunday and I hope we can have church services. We probably will. Dick is okay and so am I. I’m feeling good.

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,