Rain Archives - Page 4 of 5

31 August 1944

Dear Folks:

Oh what a day rain, rain, rain. And when it rains it is a scramble to see that everything is dry and will stay that way. A few days ago my roommate and I built ourselves a home from the remnants of a Jap barn and covered the top with tin, shelter halves and ponchos. We thought we had it pretty well waterproofed but the acid test today proved differently, and before I knew it, the center of my bed looked like the old swimming hole. Later I put out my blankets to dry and then forgot to bring them in when it starting raining again. But, a few tent poles and some redecorating, patched the place up pretty well. Just after supper when it started to rain so hard, I stripped off and showered in the rain water.

Last night was a little different and for the first time in quite a while played a little bridge. We bid five twice, made it both times and was doubled once. We had a hot streak. Players are pretty hard to find and lately we haven’t found time to play much. Besides this diversion we have two volleyball courts laid out and occasionally get out to play a game, but I seem to be getting worse instead of better. A few days ago we went off daylight savings time and now it gets dark so early that we don’t have much time after supper.

I suppose everyone at home is very optimistic especially since the fall of Paris and the surrender of Bulgaria and Rumania. It certainly does look bright in Europe and probably it won’t last another ten months. Our group colonel told us yesterday he thought the war here would last probably until late 1945. If it ends that soon it’ll be sooner than I expect but I hope I’m wrong. Tokyo continues to broadcast especially for the GI’s on Saipan and calls us ‘orphans’ and ‘boneheads’. Also they have ‘Moby Dick’ who drawls along and gets sarcastic cracks in often. Tokyo like Germany is withdrawing according to plans, etc. etc.

Our mail has been delayed for some reason and haven’t heard from you in over two weeks and so I haven’t any of your mail to comment on. But someday it will catch up with me and I’ll have reading to last a week. But it isn’t so good getting along without it.

Well the boys are paging me for a pinochle game and there isn’t a lot of time. I think I’ll stop and come back again soon. The watch is running perfectly and just the thing I wanted. Well so long for tonight.

Love,

16 August 1944

Dear Folks:

It’s time I was writing you again, and several good things to report. Yesterday I made a flying visit to Saipan again and once more saw Jack. We see each other fairly often although you can never tell which one will be the last one. Well after I got back I saw the mail orderly sweating out six or so bags of mail and I was hoping your package would be on this load. Sure enough it was. The watch is exactly the thing I wanted and I’m nuts about it. I almost hated to wear it. This batch of mail was the first time we had received anything but first class mail, and now everyone is reading their hometown papers and magazines. I received three issues of the Free Press, the earliest dated 11 [illegible] and the last June 8 so I must have a bunch more floating around somewhere. But no matter how old they were they were gobbled up eagerly. I see I rated the paper with a little about my visit with Bob Harris. I hope Dick has received his issues by this time. Anyway with all the mail and packages the morale [illegible] a while anyway. Boy that stuff has to come a h__ of a long ways. Yesterday [illegible] the news of the landings in Southern France and it seems that things [illegible] lasting in Europe. Incidentally I listened to the Nazi commentator [illegible] and it was almost ridiculous to hear his account and then listen [illegible] only after he spoke the axis overseas musical program for the Allied [illegible] with the comment it was especially for the ‘boys on Saipan”. [illegible] yesterday I took quite a comprehensive look at the island from the [illegible] was rather surprised to find how nice looking an island it is. [illegible] look out and see almost all of the island, with [illegible] the rolling slopes, green and laid out with [illegible] imagine the maddened Japanese occupying such a [illegible] every battle the Japanese put up their [illegible] it was equally as bloody and dis- [illegible] fourteen Jap officers who had [illegible]. They are nothing short of [illegible] certain we came to the airport [illegible] every one had a burned Jap plane [illegible] climbed into the cockpit of one [illegible] Japs lost so many planes on the [illegible].

[illegible] well that is the typical [illegible] can smell a Jap before you can [illegible] it rains often. Our office [illegible] rain out and provides a little [illegible] time. I’m very fine as usual [illegible] can’t worry about me. I’ll see Dick in a [illegible].

Love,

8 August 1944

Dear folks:

I have that comforting feeling that goes with a full stomach – we’ve just finished supper, and it wasn’t so bad considering the inexperienced chefs that prepared it. Our menu was especially made unusual by some fresh cucumbers that we gathered from a patch across the road. Along with these we had cocoa, corn beef, cold peas, and those biscuits that the Army insists have to be hard and tasteless. Tomorrow our kitchen will be inaugurated and it will be a relief to get some hot cooking. But perhaps what makes me feel so good this evening is that I have news from your front. Three of your letters and one from [illegible] so damn welcome and so eagerly read. I must have been doing more writing [illegible] if you received six from me in one week. But then you are about [illegible] with the exception of the Washington friend who writes me [illegible]. Yesterday had a letter from Betty S. Myers who it seems, intends [illegible]. And again there isn’t a lot to do in the evenings before dark and [illegible] uses up some time. I hope you have received my extra long one [illegible] time ago – I consumed the better fraction of an afternoon putting it [illegible] will answer a lot of questions you might have wanted answered. And for [illegible] sort of fun to describe to you all that I can and let you know all [illegible] I would give about a thousand dollars for a movie camera right now to [illegible] this, but cameras are on the ‘verboten’ list.

[illegible] dig out your letter and see what I can comment on. Well the first thing, [illegible] this operation will change Dick or myself noticeably – at least not me. [illegible) has seen enough sights of the worst nature but he’s just as jolly and matter of fact as ever. When he saw me during the middle of the operation he said he sure hated to go back in there, but knowing him probably he felt more than I thought. I think I [illegible] Garapan so I’ll skip that. Our ‘office’ is a lot different than the station- [illegible] we had on Oahu. We have a square [illegible] supported by four poles with nothing on the sides. To keep out the rain we nailed up sheets of tin taken from a blown up Jap barn but whenever it rains (and it does often), we usually run around putting up ponchos and shelter halves to keep from getting wet. The office work is pretty much streamlined but still there is much paper work to do. I am a lucky guy and have a cot that is nothing less than luxurious. Among other things the guys use to sleep on is stretchers, salvaged Jap beds, Jap mats, homemade beds and whatever you have. Our camp looks like a hobo jungle. And you asked about a PX. No we don’t have one but necessaries are issued gratis. I don’t think I’ve spent [illegible] three months [illegible] a nice paycheck I’ll have. We’re the guys that make the paychecks [illegible]. I hope you are getting my new [illegible].

[illegible] guys are [illegible] a jeep listening to sweet music from Frisco and some [illegible]. [illegible] guys the news at six o’clock at dictation [illegible]. [illegible] produced dissemination to other troops. Most of the [illegible] and news. An announcement this afternoon [illegible] and we heard a quoted portion of the new Premier’s speech [illegible]. In the evenings we sometimes get China and listen to music from night [illegible] broadcasts from Manila with the usual line.

[illegible] to knock off about here and walk down sunset boulevard to the Roxy.

Love,

7 August 1944

Dear Folks:

In a few minutes I’m going over the hill and down the road to the show but first I better scratch you out a short epistle. The last time I wrote you I was on Saipan where I was with Dick and where I could see Jack, but now I’m three miles across the channel on Tinian. Tinian is a green, oblong island with a plateau down the middle. It reminds me much of Maui. The fields are well laid out, and abounding with sugar cane, sweet potatoes and other small crops. Looking at the valley from Lake Minatare is much like the scene from here. Most of the farm homes I have seen look as though the Jap farmers must have been pretty well off. More presentable than those on Saipan. Tinian towns must have been picturesque little settlements when it was whole, but now it looks like Garapan. I never imagined I would see such destruction as I had seen in newsreels, etc., but that’s all I have seen for the last two months. Every building and shed has been hit, and even small houses setting hidden in cane fields have been demolished. On most of the Jap homes, the house is of wood with a tin roof, while the barn is usually reinforced concrete about eight inches thick, and a large cistern to collect rain water. Water by the way is a pretty important matter here and probably it contributed no little in whipping the Japs. Probably every Jap farmer was forced to build a concrete barn and maintain some stock for the army. On the southern part of the island snipers and civilians are being collected, although the island has been secured for some time. From the wreckage of houses we have taken what was left to make ourselves some shelter against the rain, and I wished you could see some of the Rube Goldberg contraptions that have been arranged. The architectural masterpieces that are showers are something to see. It seems that every piece of wreckage can be put to use in some way. It has been raining a lot lately and the mud is bad to slip around in. I’m getting behind on dirty clothes and tomorrow I think I’ll be forced to do some laundry. I wished you could see us whip up our supper. We have a small stove and we’re sure to make some man a good wife. The rations get a little tiresome but soon we’ll have a kitchen and back to good rations.

Well Mom and Dad I’m still very well. Dengue fever has hit some but I’ve been okeh so far. Of course the only really bad element to it all is the distance from home. I haven’t seen Dick for a week or two and probably won’t get to see him for some time although you can never tell. Probably I may not see Jack again either. Dusk is pulling the shades down so I better grab my mosquito drop and flashlight and get along to the show. Last night we sat in the rain and saw a show that was bad for the dogfaces titled ‘Love Can’t Be Rationed’. About the scarcity of men in the states and the feminine wolves. What a situation. Well adios this time.

Love,

18 July 1944

[Harold types]

Dear Folks:

Dick came down to see me today and I thought while we were laying around we just as well write you a letter – or try to. Right after we had dinner we walked along the beach road from Charan Kanoa to the end of the island looking for an army cemetery but couldn’t find it. While we were looking for the place, Dick showed me the places where his outfit landed and even where he dug his first foxhole. And we found a lot of Jap caves that were well concealed and topped over with a lot of dirt and leaves. They dig in like [illegible] caves are transforming the face of the [illegible] saw several thick walled concrete [illegible] from the point we had a good view of Tinian [illegible] over there must be thinking – if they can see what is going on [illegible] there is (a) sugar factory that stands out on the landscape. It took quite a beating from navy shells and girders and machinery are flung everywhere. From the factory runs a number of narrow gauge railroad lines. The army captured a few locomotives and now you can hear their high pitched whistle as the guys chug along using the cars to haul supplies, etc. The trains are small and look more like oversized toys. We haven’t had a look at Carapan yet and I have been itching to get up there and see what goes. The town is about ten thousand so there must be quite a lot to see. I haven’t seen a newspaper or magazine since I left Oahu and today Dick walked in with a Time magazine. I’m anxious to review it from cover to cover. I was asking Dick what I should write about and he said to mention that we will be sending home some souvenirs soon when the situation permits. I told you about the bayonet and the flag. In addition to those Dick got a wallet with quite a sum of Jap money in it, and many pictures of the officer’s family and what must be his wife. Also he got his insignia of a 2^nd lieutenant. He’ll probably have some more before it is all over. The weather here is about the same as on Oahu but right now is the season when the monsoons begin and the past few nights there have been heavy rainstorms. They say hurricanes strike near the island about once every two years and I hope this isn’t one of them. Today is pretty hot and sultry and the sand all around is hard on the eyes.

We were both wondering about Phil and whether he has come into the army yet. Every once in a while you see a crude handwritten sign over a foxhole saying Frisco 7752 miles, Tokyo 1521, and then we realize just how far away we are. Guam lies about 103 miles to the south and just to the north are the Bonims(?). It’s going to be a long boat ride home someday but we’re ready to accept it any time. And remind us never to take another ocean voyage when we get home. The food was pretty good on the boats but the chow lines are hard to buck, and the accommodations are hardly first class. Well I’m going to turn this over to Dick and let him add a few lines.

[Dick handwrites]

Today being Sunday I went to communion and then to see Harold. We’re taking it easy now after a little uneasiness. I’ll write some time later.

Love,

Dick

7 December 1942

Dearest Folks:

I’ve let you go for three days now, about the longest yet, so I better redeem myself.

Yesterday I got the Thanksgiving box and it was swell. And in the book I found the pictures and the wedding invitation. I’ve been looking at them both about every fifteen minutes—there’s nothing like pictures. And the stationary was just the thing. Then today got a carton of cigarettes from Pat making a total of eleven boxes received. I’m certainly not being neglected. Three days ago I mailed you two boxes, small ones, and a coconut. I’m afraid you might not know what it would be so thought I better tell you. They sell them in the PX and it’s kind of a novelty. Many of the guys paint hula girls and Hawaiian scenes on them.

Well today was the anniversary of the war and the day that shattered my hopes of getting out in a year. Here on the island, as everywhere I suppose, a bond campaign is underway with soldiers and sailors doing the selling. A booth has been set up in the square. I hear the islands doubled their quota. My bonds should be reaching you by now and after December should have, or will have $87.50 worth and $105.00 in allotments. About the most I ever had in a lump sum.

On the island the weather is very good but when the wind begins to blow from the south, it’s a warning that a rainstorm or a cona, as they call it, is ahead. Then it really rains, but with all the rain we had in Nebraska I still like it.

Tonight is a typical night except that we have an unusual duet for entertainment. A guy got a piccolo sized instrument from his wife and another has a beat up Hawaiian guitar—they’re trying to collaborate on “Old Black Joe’. Occasionally they attempt to sing and they aren’t too terrible—now it’s ‘Daisy’.

I took some pictures yesterday of my ball team and some other and I’ll send you them when they are developed. And our team won for (a) change too.

Well this is enough for tonight—let’s hope the war doesn’t have more than one anniversary.

All of you sure seem close to me tonight.

Love,

20 September 1942

Dear Folks:

It’s getting pretty dark to write but perhaps I can get it done before it is completely dark. I sent you a letter about a week ago by regular mail and I’m afraid you won’t receive it for some time, so thought I better write another. Well I’m a couple of thousand miles more away from home across a stretch of Pacific in the Hawaiian Islands and what a pretty place—lots of flowers, sugar cane and pineapple. Haven’t seen any hula dancers yet although they gave a show for the troops today. Last night heard a program of real Hawaiian music by some native Hawaiians and it seems much nicer to hear it over here. You’d go nuts Mom over all these flowers and shade trees. For the last few days have been swimming almost daily and this afternoon was no exception. It’s about two miles to the pool but it’s worth it, I mean the walk. Yesterday afternoon there was a dance in a big USO building in a nearby town and to my surprise we were granted passes so we took a bus in and swang a few. Boy what a conglomeration of people—Japs, Chinks, Hawaiians, Puerto Ricans and plenty of half breeds. I think I danced with about one of each. The USO has plenty of facilities for sports so not lacking on that issue. There are several tennis courts, swimming pools, dance halls, bowling alleys and ball diamonds and we’ve had access to them quite often lately. I just got back from swimming about an hour ago and after a big supper feel pretty good. It just started to rain so I had to pull this typewriter into a tent so from the cramped quarters you’ll have to accept a few mistakes. The day after we got here I received a letter from Gladys Davis and of course it was full of news as is Gladys. She told me all about the fellows and the Davis’. Then I also had a letter from you—one you had written before you visited me at (Camp) Stoneman. And a few days back had a letter from Patsy and her flamboyant style makes her letters worth reading. Also had one from Gram that I’ll have to answer tonight. I suppose there are plenty of details you’d like to know about such as crossing and place I’m at but that’s on the verboten list so you’ll have to ask me when I get back. Anyway the important thing is that you have a general idea of my whereabouts. Of course our letters are now censored but that shouldn’t be too much of a stigma although some of the fellows don’t exactly like to have some of their letters read. I’m as well as ever getting plenty of sunshine and exercise and a pass occasionally and all in all it reminds me a little bit of being back in California. Blackouts are every night so I hit the hay early unless I get a show pass. Beer is two bits a bottle and about as weak as pop, but it’s beer. Sleeping on the ground and boxing mosquitoes isn’t exactly home but there are plenty of places that could be worse. Anyway I’m getting used to it after the tenderness left my hips and I got to carving out some hip holes before laying down on my bed. Suppose Nancy and Phil are well along in school by now, with Nancy crazy about it and Dan taking it a little grudgingly. This is a little disjointed and unorganized but for lack of time I’m writing on something that comes to me. Now I’m back in the open again since it’s stopped raining but suppose it will start again. This is the first time I’ve thought about Christmas in September but we better be doing it in order that our packages arrive somewhere near the holiday. I shouldn’t have much trouble finding things over here that you would like. It hardly seems possible that winter is almost here again and that I’ve another birthday coming up but I guess it is. Looks like two Christmases away from home and if I could look forward to being home for it in 1943 I’d be as happy as if it were a furlough. There are some rumors of furloughs after a certain duration in the tropics, if this is considered the tropics, but I know little about it. That’s quite a ways away anyway. It was swell to see you for a few days in (Camp) Stoneman and it doesn’t seem it was a month ago. Bet I had an awkward look on my face when I met you in the visitor’s building. It didn’t seem like it was really you. Is Kate still in Denver and has she heard anything about the navy yet? In a way I hate to see her in the navy but I think it’s a pretty good deal for her. Running out of paper so better pull the curtain. See you in the next letter.

Love,

16 July 1942

Dear Folks:

I don’t think I’m neglecting you in my writing, do you? I don’t know why I feel so prolific, maybe it’s because I have so much time in the office.

Opened the package you sent me in the presence of my office henchmen, and in the middle of the afternoon a piece of angel food cake was like the end of a thirty day fast. The officers had a piece too and they all attest to its goodness. Haven’t sampled the cookies yet but I know they will be as good as the cake. The cake was real fresh and soft but the frosting was beginning to fall off. The cookies will be a dessert for dinner because all we have then is sandwiches.

Suppose you have the pictures of our Sahara Paradise by now. Well here’s another one. It was taken on a Sunday afternoon at Ft. Lewis. I don’t know the girls at all. We just asked them to pose with us and they consented.

One more week after this, then back to Lewis to furloughs I hope. I’m getting pretty used to it here being so close to town and all but despise the rain. I still like the barracks better. My confinement is over today and I thought it was. Come to find out it was just for over the last weekend. Last nite it actually rained a little and this morning the ground smells fresh and alive.

Haven’t been doing much reading lately however did just finish “The Good Earth”. It was laying around so thought I might as well read it. There isn’t a library here and no pocketbooks to buy so I’m stalled temporarily.

I wish I could foresee what the army proposes to do with us after we get back to Lewis. Some say back to California and the cadre to Oregon but these are pure hearsay. I heard most of the experts predict a siege of three or more years (how wrong they-the experts-were when Germany first came out of her corner). Only yesterday I was reading in a ’39 Digest the opinions of a Yale economist and European expert who flatly declared that the one thing Hitler could not do was wage war. Most of them are “looking for a better ‘ole’ now”, and I think they are too pessimistic in forecasting another three years. I’m going to be home for good in January 1944.

I still droll like a blue bloodhound when I hear an airplane. I’ve asked the CO about the Air Corps again but there seems to be no way out. Oh, well the FA is pretty good.

There wasn’t much to write about but I wanted to thank you for the box. With the sugar rationing you hadn’t better send anymore and canning coming up too.

Well I’ll yet take that all day nap you promised. Goodbye for now.

Love,

23 June 1942

Dear Folks:

I just wrote you last nite but another one won’t hurt and besides I got your last letter this afternoon.

Was surprised to hear that Dick was home. Thought he would go back sometime but not so soon. Hope he finds a good job soon.

Next Monday (June 29) we go to Yakima for intensive training and firing. It is about one (hundred) forty miles from here and over the high mountains past Mt. Rainier. They tell me it’s pretty hot over there, but we have our suntans so it won’t be as bad as the woolens. We will be there for at least a month so you can send me some cookies there. Suppose we will start using our sleeping bags again. It’s going to seem tough leaving these luxurious barracks but also good to get into the open again. During these operations we will have aircraft observations and dummy bombs of flour.

Still nothing on furloughs. Two of our men are on them but they are only for emergencies and the Red Cross makes a thorough investigation.

Payday will really be something this time with the fifty bucks. I haven’t heard anything about the two paydays a month, but I think it would be a good idea. Along with the raise in base pay was a special arrangement for dependents. For every $22 the soldier sends home the government adds $28 to it. This is mandatory for married men and only available for men with dependents. A pretty good deal. The $12.50 for my bonds will be taken out this month. As the bonds accumulate they will be sent to you.

Now to reread your letter and answer the questions. Yes I still go to church, there is a big brick chapel on the post. I use cream to shave with the lather type but with the tube stipulation, soap is alright. I’m well supplied with toilet articles but can always use razor blades, shaving cream, or face soap. The number of division is the Fortieth, the emblem of which is a yellow sun on a dark blue background.

Boy does it rain around here—wish Nebraska could get some of it. Guess that’s why I don’t mind it so much.

Tomorrow night the Camel Caravan is coming and if it’s as good as the one I saw at Roberts it is pretty good.

Guess I told you about my excursion in Seattle last Saturday.

I plumb forgot about Dan’s birthday but I must remember him someway—and sixteen too. That reminds me of the days that I was sporting a pout because I was too young to pedal a bike.

Well l am going to listen to Fibber McGee and Bob Hope so until next time.

Lots of love,

10 June 1942

Dear Folks:

Before another minute of eternity ticks through the March of time I better get caught up with you or you will think I have deserted or something.

Got the papers and your letter last week. Suppose you have both subsided from the excitement of the past and have got back into the groove. Katie wrote me a letter telling me all about it so I have a pretty good picture of what you did in Denver. Will she stay in Denver and go to school some more?

Because of the alert and the resulting confinement I have been unable to get out of camp to buy anything for her and I really want to get her something. Give me some suggestions. I sent her five dollars-hope it will ease my guilty conscience somewhat.

Today I signed an allotment whereby $12.50 will be deducted from my pay each month. For every $18.75 that I save you will receive a bond with a maturity value of $25.00. It will be mailed to you as I requested. This will amount to a savings of $200.00 a year, the maturity of the bonds. Instead of naming you or either of you as beneficiary I named Mother as co-owner, although it makes no difference. As a co-owner you are entitled to cash the bond at any time after 60 days. There will be no red tape or my signature. I thought this a better plan than a beneficiary, so that if by chance you are in need of the money you will have it. As you probably know we will get our raise of $50.000 this month. Also I intend to send home $10.00 in cash.

Got a letter from Dick telling me of his visit from Mary. Yes I think they are pretty dizzy over each other. He didn’t tell me how he felt but said Mary got sentimental when she left.

Summer seems to need plenty of coaxing to come into full bloom around here. For the past week it has been raining and blowing and no signs of the clouds going away. Expect to go to Yakima to the firing range in a couple of weeks and they say it is much warmer there. But I hope I will be transferred from this outfit before that.

All the time we were on the alert we had to carry our tin hats and gas all the time—even and while working and when the order came thru that it was discontinued we all threw up our arms in joy. Even most of the civilians entering camp had them. A guard here shot a woman–died last night when she failed to halt her car. So always stop if you are requested.

My little watch beats like a young heart and never fails me—and the zipper bag is like another hand.

Hope next time I will be home—I mean next year. Perhaps furloughs are still a slumbering image. Perhaps when I am transferred with the cadre I will be sent East. My application for commission in the Adjutant General’s department was denied in view of the numerous applications. Many of the fellows are having visitors—being from Spanish Fork, Utah. I am in a Mormon reserve, Utah battalion.

Suppose you heard or read about the sunken freighter near Seattle, but I’m telling you that when this big shore gets it’s steam up there will be death and destruction for Germany and Japan the likes of which have never been seen. Cologne will be ordinary and commonplace. Our air force will be so great and our ground forces so well supplied that it will be utter desolation for anything in our way. This is my prediction. No more ‘too little and too late’. We are waiting until we have a cinch and will have it.

Well guess I’ve made my philosophies and told you what’s what so there is little else.

Oh, for a bunk without brown blankets and a dinner from marvelous Mother Moss and a banking out from dime-dealing Dad.

Love,