Rain Archives - Moss Letters

11 September 1945

Dear Folks:

I hope every letter I write will be the last one, but I’m still here and as long as I am I guess I just as well write you. However we are going from day to day now expecting orders at any time. I made a 200 yen bet that we would be out of here by Saturday the 15^th, and I think it’s still a good bet. [200 yen is only $12.50]. The days are dragging by and every one seems long. I don’t have anything to do now – my replacement came two weeks ago and he has taken over. About all I do now is loaf and in the afternoon sleep. I feel lost and kind of nervous – you know what I mean. For instance this morning in order to kill time I went over to the barber shop for a haircut, and hung around the motor section until dinner. I’m letting my hair grow now – trying to make it look like a civilian. It’s been pretty short up to now.

Had a letter from Dad together with a Free Press today. I’m glad you got to see Dan Gettman. I didn’t know he had any trouble with his hip, but there is a lot of guys [who] have ear trouble from the guns. He used to talk a leg off me about Scottsbluff.

The past two days it has been raining in cloud bursts and typhoon proportions. It may hold us up a few days in leaving. I’ve never seen it rain so hard. It will come up in a few minutes and drive down so hard you can’t see more than fifty yards. Boy how it rains. The sky may look good one minute and the next it will be pouring down.

Well I can’t think of anything more to write about. Don’t write me because it’s just a job for the mail orderly to forward it.

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,

3 August 1945

Dear Folks:

This is one of those rainy days when you feel like sleeping, and being cozy but I can’t do it when I have so many letters to write. Mail has been coming slow the past couple of days but with the rainy weather it’s no wonder. It has been raining hard and almost without let up for two days now. But we are sleeping in pyramidal tents and except when we go out we keep pretty dry. Along with the rain is driving winds that blow the rain in sheets. Boy it really rains. You’d think the whole countryside was going to blow away. But this afternoon it looks like the clouds may be breaking up a little and I hope it does before the show tonight.

Two nights ago I sat through a drenching rain on a sandbag to see ‘Valley of Decision’. If it had been any other show I would have left. I thought it was excellent. If it isn’t rain, it [is] usually an air raid, or something else that stops the show.

A short time ago at an ungodly hour in the morning, a Jap plane or planes came over and then I heard a clatter of machine guns. Either they were strafing or our planes were trying to shoot them down. Believing it was all over I went back to bed and was about to sleep when I heard that watery, swishy sound of a bomb falling. I rolled out of bed without regard to the mosquito bar and pulled it down with me to the floor. It was funny. By the time all of us were up going out the door of the tent, we heard another coming so we all flopped to the floor and waited. Then they went off and it was quiet. To have a plane up there dropping eggs out of a black night isn’t pleasant. But my hitting the floor so fast and ripping my net in the process, caused me some ribbing, but I believe in hitting the dirt fast. You should see us hug old Mother earth when things get hot.

Had a letter from Dad yesterday. I hope you’re right about the war being over soon but I don’t know. Japan is taking a lot, but she can absorb plenty more.

Got the clipping about Wylma getting married. It’s kind of hard to believe after having gone with her so long and knowing her as I did. But like a lot of other guys it’s just a case of being away too long. In the letter I got from her she didn’t mention him, in fact she seemed unattached altogether.

I have been waiting to hear from Dick. We sent some boys home on furlough and I thought perhaps he might have gotten one from his outfit. As afar as my getting home is concerned it is just sit and wait and not worry about it. Dick has 71 points but I’m afraid it will not be lowered that much although later he may become eligible. I’m not eligible for furlough now unless I sign up to stay in the service, which I wouldn’t do with my score. I couldn’t say whether Dick was going into combat again or not if I knew, but I really don’t know. I believe he’s living fairly decent now, and I hope he can stay with me for a few days.

Was just issued two bottles of beer, but better save them for some other time.

I guess this is all I can think of this time. I’m feeling fine, and not being overworked, and I think I’ve added a pound or two in the last three weeks.

Until the next time.

Love,

17 June 1945

Dear Folks:

Rather quiet this Sunday afternoon so I better grab hold of myself and get a few letters written. A few minutes ago I just returned from church services in the mess tent. The first we have had in three weeks due to the situation.

It is continuing (to) dry and today it is very warm but a slight breeze is blowing that makes it cool in the shade. Mosquitoes are bad at night but of course we all have nets and take Atabrine to curb malaria. Also planes spray the island often and it keeps the flies down to a minimum. They come soaring over very low letting out a white trail of insecticide.

Well, the Japs are now very compressed on the southern end of the island and I hear we have only about a mile to go – should be over in a couple of days. Our artillery has been sitting up a constant barrage. I suppose the Japs are about gone nuts now. Our sleeping tent is setting upwind of one of our gun batteries and every time they fire, the smoke blows down right over us, and it smells exactly like rotten egg gas, but we get used to it.

I’m still very fine and comparatively safe and little excitement has happened for me. All I’m afraid of is a Jap sneaking in at night, but we are well protected, so that isn’t much of a threat, just a possibility. About a week ago two of them tried to slip in the motor pool but the boys spotted them and fired at them. But they got away and before leaving dropped their packs, both full of grenades.

Just a second ago a guy brought me two letters, one from Dad and from Nancy. Nancy says she doubts if it rains as hard here as at home – well 13 inches in a week is a lot. Never saw it rain that much in Nebraska.

Now that things appear to be loosening up on getting home, I’m getting impatient. Between you and me I figure I’ll hit the September or October quota, but don’t bank too heavily on it. I just cannot imagine myself back with you and enjoying myself at home and being completely independent, at least for a while. But I feel certain I will see you this year and not as Nancy says, by the time she graduates – that’s much too far away.

No, I never get enough of your letters, dad as you say, to the contrary. I’m always watching the mail orderly and it’s very seldom I walk away from a mail call without anything. You do a good job of writing and I know it’s a big job writing to three of us but I hope soon that it will be cut to two, by me getting home.

Love,

16 June 1945

Dear Folks:

While I was eating chow tonight someone brought me two letters, so I sat over my coffee and read your two good communiqués. It seems that I’ve been gone so long and things have changed so much since I left that a letter means so much and puts a good touch to a rough day. I’ve been very poor on my writing lately but I’ve been so busy that I couldn’t find the time. But I do want to write you as often as possible.

In your letters you both mentioned the heavy rain but since I wrote that letter, the rain has subsided and it has been very dry and now the dust is bad on the roads. Yesterday I was traveling quite a bit on an inspection trip and passed thru Noha and had a better look than what I last described to you. It must have been a picturesque city and by far the most modern since leaving Oahu. There are many large brick buildings of stores, government offices, theatres, etc. You know Noha had one quarter which housed the geisha girls and prostitutes and a general entertainment area. They say the girls numbered some four thousand. Through Noha there is a paved road and as I drove over it I couldn’t help but think of our own highway. The first paved road since Oahu. In the estuary were several Jap bodies floating, and in the harbor, masts of sunken Jap ships stuck up out of the water.

Well it looks like some boys will be leaving soon on demobilization but I won’t hit the first quota, as some have more [points] than I. But the general feeling is that the plan will continue to work, and I feel personally that sometime in the next six months I will get my orders. Just hang on a little longer and I’m sure I’ll soon be out of it for good. Also I understand the critical score may be lowered and that makes my chances better. Guess you know I have 91 [points]. If I don’t hit another operation before I leave, everything will be hunky-dory. I know being away so long is getting both Dad and you down.

Got the little clipping of Dick and Duane and I liked it. I haven’t been able to see Dick or Ike yet because we are so far apart but soon will get around to it.

Well kind of short tonight but got to save something for next time. So adios.

Love,

3 June 1945

Dear Folks:

Early Sunday morning right now, so I decided to observe it in my own little way and write you a letter – a long one if the material will present itself.

This morning isn’t the customary sunshiny day like most Sunday mornings – but the sky is overcast and the ground like a cow barn in winter. This “midnight soil” the Japs used to fertilize the soil lends a fowl odor to the whole area and smells especially bad in tents. It got to raining so hard that we had to put up a pyramidal tent. We couldn’t bail our holes fast enough. But aside from the rain, the situation has been quiet for me. Apparently most of the Jap artillery has been knocked out for I haven’t heard a shell in a long time. I’m always afraid a Nip will try to sneak in the area but so far they haven’t and now that the campaign is so far along, I feel easier. I hear the boys at the front are going good now and General Hodge says that organized resistance is almost over. I’m sure you can feel easier about us.

Little mail lately but I hope the mailman comes back with an armload this afternoon. They go after mail every day no matter how bad the roads are – some days it’s quite a trip. No packages yet but some of the boys are receiving packages from March so I’m expecting mine soon.

I started out to write quite a letter but I’m about washed up already. Hope to go to church today if the chaplain can get through. I’m feeling fine and just hoping that before another operation, I can get home and Dick too.

Well, I guess this (is) all.

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,

27 May 1945

Dear Folks:

This is a trying position to write a letter in – lying on a cot propped on one elbow.

Yesterday had three letters – two from Mom and one from Dad – one of Mom’s had the baccalaureate service in.

Probably you have been reading about the heavy rains here—if you can believe all of it—for it has been raining the last 4 days in torrential proportions. Some of the things that went on during the heaviest part of the rain should be worth a six page letter, but I’m too cramped a position and too low “morally” to do it. The first night it began about 4 in the morning. Feeling I was comparatively well protected, I turned over and went to sleep and woke up later to see the water about an inch from the bottom of my cot. So I got up and in a driving rain, cut a drainage ditch out of the hole. That eased the situation some but everything on the floor was soaked. Finally the rain kept driving down and soon everything I had was wet. And since then have had no opportunity to dry them out. Quite a number of the boys dug holes into the side of a bank, and as the water flowed over the side, the banks finally caved in, covering cots, etc. Kind of humorous in a miserable sort of way. The aid station was under four feet of water and early in the morning they were wading around moving out and trying to find lost equipment. Fortunately our office was comparatively dry, the only one that escaped. The morning after the big rain, I went (to) breakfast and saw a guy sleeping on some ration boxes. He was forced out of his overflowing hole. Remember the last thing you told me to do was not to get my feet wet. Well, tonight they are soaked but luckily my blankets are dry. I could say it looks like it’s clearing up but every time I do, it starts in again. Oh, to be a civilian again.

Last Thursday night was an exciting one. On that night the Japs attempted to bring in airborne troops but at the time I didn’t know it. There was the usual ach-ach-searchlights and I saw three shot down. The main thing I have to worry about is falling ach-ach fragments. I saw one Jap plane fly over and drop five eggs in a neat row.

I guess the road was so muddy the chaplain couldn’t get through. Anyway, there was no Protestant service.

Well, I want to dry out my feet a little and get organized for bed so I better cut short. I don’t have a cold – feel fine but pretty tired of the mud.

Love,

23 May 1945

Dear Folks:

Fulfilling my prediction of last night, the weather has turned rainy and so today the area is a big mud pond. Don’t do much walking around now and while I’m sitting here just as well utilize the time.

Had a letter from my old landlady in Lincoln today – Mrs. Davis. She lives at the same place and really misses the old gang. And how I miss them too. I hope she is making it alright. Don’t know whether I told you or not but some time ago I had a letter from my roomy Kenny Miller. Remember him? He is the law student who graduated in ’41. He is in England and wanted to whip up a correspondence with me. He was a great guy.

I’m certainly in love with the pen you sent me – it’s such a beauty and I’m always using it.

Received a January Free Press yesterday, and though it was old, it still offered some good, homey news. If my envelopes look beat up and opened it’s because of the weather. The flaps always stick so I have to lick each one and soak it off, and that takes most of the glue off.

Well believe I’ll plow through the mud and go down to listen to Bob Hope on the radio. But I have to do a few things before then so I better sign off.

I (am) feeling very good and sleeping dry and good despite the wet weather. After the campaign will probably have movies and a little beer ration which will improve our lot. If I can just stay on this island until my time comes to go back I’ll be satisfied. It isn’t a bad place at all.

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,