Rationing Archives - Moss Letters

17 February 1944

Dear Folks:

I think I can stay within my schedule and still get a letter written to you – anyway I’ll try it. I try to break the evenings up into some sort of a schedule in order to insure getting done the things I want to. So far it’s worked pretty good and sometimes I have to overlook a bridge game and that isn’t always easy to do. Well yesterday I went on pass and once again saw something that I hadn’t seen before. On the way back from Waikiki we stopped at the municipal buildings and had a look at the local government offices. Felt like a civilian. In one of them was the courtrooms, law offices and the usual embellishments and that interested me so we looked around. Even walked into the Supreme Court chambers. Something awesome and quiet about the empty rooms that made you feel good that there were still public courts still in this country where an accused can get a hearing. Well after this we nosed around like a pair of hillbilly sightseers and finally stumbled into the law library. Boy what a layout and what a world of legal knowledge and education. Wish I could use the books. The place was empty so we took our time and pulled out volumes here and there. Found some on Nebraska and then Minatare didn’t seem so far away. Across the avenue was the Iolani Palace where King Kamehameha used to live so we went over there. But the place was locked up so couldn’t see much. Looked pretty good from the outside though.

For a couple of hours in the afternoon slept in the sun on the beach. Except on Sundays, the beach (is) very crowded but there are always a few fellows surf riding out about two hundred (yards) off shore. But that’s about all the beach is good for because the bottom is covered with coral formations and rocks. The water is pretty shallow and that is what causes the waves to roll in without breaking up. When I used to see pictures of them at home I wondered how they kept from drowning but you can wade out for probably three hundred yards without getting in water over your head.

Regardless of all the ration talk and shortages it still is pretty easy to get a good dinner and not outrageous either. We ate on a terrace overlooking the water and I had a sirloin steak with all the good trimmings. This about ended up for the day so after an evening show we headed back. This was the first time I’d really been out after blackout and to see so many lights shining again was a treat. After living in a blacked out country for quite a spell the auto and store and street lights was a sight for sore eyes.

Well my time is running short – that schedule you know – so I better begin tapering off. Dick was supposed to go with me yesterday but he couldn’t get off so probably he will come around Sunday.

Love,

26 January 1943

Dear Folks:

It took a lot of nerve for me to sit down and write you a letter after not writing to you in more than a week, and I know you must feel pretty anxious, and I haven’t any real excuse, I just didn’t do it. And I should have been especially prompt with letters this week. Katie and Tom sent me a whopping big box of cigarettes and a wedding picture, then there was the tobacco and pouch and pipe from you and the stationery, all this in addition to the mail. This is the first and last time such a delay will happen. I received your two page V-letter today. In your letter I recall something about some table napkins and a cover. I had been planning to get a set for you and I will do it next payday. I have seen plenty of nice ones and although some of them are pretty expensive, I’m sure I can get what I want pretty reasonably. I hope my taste don’t fail me. And I will write the letter to Mrs. Peters. I had intended to and I will and soon too. Bringing up rationing, perhaps I should send dad a couple of pounds of coffee. As far as I know, excepting gasoline, there is no food rationing although a supply might not always be available. I guess I did look pretty thin in the pictures and I have lost a little weight since I came home, but I still top a hundred forty. I have a few more pictures and I will send them in a separate letter. I have been getting the Presses and the Digest—it came yesterday. The V-mail supply was very welcome. Its use is advocated and encouraged but it isn’t easy to get very many sheets. Many of the guys don’t like it, but I do. I sent you a few things about three weeks ago and I believe I insured them. There was an India made tray and a necklace, if I remember correctly. I guess I’m getting near the end of the sheet so I better taper off. I’m really sorry for not writing sooner and I know and consider your feelings. It won’t happen again. Thanks isn’t near enough for what you just sent me but I’ll say it anyway.

Love,

16 November 1942

Dear Dad:

I guess it’s been a long time since I’ve pinned a letter exclusively for you and now is a good a time as any to get off another. Received your long typewritten V-letter—a lot of news in it and I’m afraid I can’t reciprocate too well. I have had a couple of (letters) from Kate recently so apparently your prompting accomplished it’s purposes—but she’s pretty busy with the jump so near. It seems odd to hear about cold weather when it’s nice here—although I use my two blankets fully in the nights.

About the bonds—the deal is still on and has been since June at the rate of $12.50 per month. They should reach you soon and they will after the red tape and processing has been cut.

It seems like every letter has a little about a box and I can account for five or six now—three from you, one from gram, one from Mrs. Carroll, one from Kate and the girl in Washington. It is a darn swell feeling to know you all think of me so much. I hope you can use what I sent you and I believe you can. Maybe I should send you some sugar—there is no rationing here.

I’m really very fine and sleeping and eating like a retired postman.

Received a card from Mrs. Peters—I will answer it soon and a box from Gram that I think I told you about.

I’m up a blind alley for anything else so here’s the finis. Keep the typewriter stuttering.

Love,

6 October 1942

Dear Mother and Dad:

In order to write a little more I’m not using V-mail but hope you will get this in decent time. Yesterday was a boom day for mail so I’ll have plenty to answer although I’ve been writing almost everyday.

Got Dan’s letter and I’ll answer it tonight.

Today had the opportunity to get away from camp and ride around in a jeep to different parts of the island. If you could get a look at these flowers along the road and the beautiful landscape you’d think you were in a greenhouse. Guess I get a little daffy over the sights and the ocean is really blue seen from a high point. I’m so drastically awkward with words that you’ll have to use your imagination.

Expecting a pass tomorrow or the next day—it will give some diversion, a show, a swim and perhaps a round of golf. Theatres are quite modern with good films-in fact the towns near would be likened to any small town on the mainland, excepting the coconut trees and vegetation. Liquor is rationed to a quart a week for civilians but is not available for soldiers. Beer is plentiful but weak. On pass we must carry our gas mask and helmet and have it with us at all time. Civilians have them too but many

[missing last page of letter]

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,

8 July 1942

Dear Folks:

It’s about seven o’clock and I’ve just finished shaving and sprucing a bit and I feel pretty good so I’ll answer your letter of today and Saturday. Suppose the main topic is the fourth of July celebration. We were granted passes all day Saturday and Sunday and it seemed like a furlough. A bunch of us left about nine o’clock Saturday and went into Yakima about five miles. On the way in we were picked up by an old couple who were herding a dilapidated fruit truck of about ’26 vintage and before we had gone far the whole back end looked like flies on a molasses jar. Our first sergeant and his wife live in Yakima and previously he had invited some of us over, so we went there. I appreciate a bathtub all the more now because when we got there his wife had eight cases of beer frosted down by two hundred pounds of ice. We did it up in big style singing and carrying on. In the evening five of us got a hotel room then took in some dances. Yakima is certainly a pretty town, trees all over and many beautiful homes. And the people appear very friendly. Stayed in bed til Sunday noon then went to a show and came back 5:00 Monday morning. A swell weekend.

The country around here reminds me of the Platte Valley in many ways. From our camp site we get a good view of the checkered green fields and orchards but up on the hills on either side it is dry and barren. Our camp in relation to Minatare would be about three or four miles beyond Lake Minatare.

I’ll dig up your letter and answer some questions now. The first item—my money situation is good. We were paid the third and I had about $35.00 left after bonds and laundry cleaning were taken out. As a matter of fact we get better food here than at the Fort, plenty of salads, fruit, and fresh meat. Tonite for supper we had roast duck and Sunday turkey (I wasn’t here). When we first came I drank water constantly but now my consumption is about normal. At every meal we are given salt tablets and our food has an abnormal amount. We haul the water from the water tower and drink it from a lister bag supported on a tripod. Yes the cadre is still going I believe after we leave here, which is two weeks after this one, July 25. And we are five or six miles from Yakima. Some guy shuttles a bus back and forth but usually we get a taxi for thirty-five cents. I got the picture of you and Kate and I remarked about it most graciously in one of my letters. Perhaps you didn’t get one of mine. Don’t go out of your way for the cookies, I forgot about the sugar rationing. You said something about watermelon in your letter—well I went to a restaurant and ate plenty and everything else I liked. Furloughs still seem in the offing—an outfit that just left here in our division are on them now so it is told. Only fifteen days though.

Our holiday was marred by a tragic incident Saturday afternoon. A big strapping fellow from Missouri with a pleasing sublimity of the hill country drowned in the canal I told you about. The canal is V-shaped lined with cement and about ten or twelve feet deep and the only place where a fellow can get out is at ladders at about ½ mile intervals. The current is so swift that if you get beyond the ladder it is impossible to get out. The last time I was there another of our men almost went down and it took all of us to get him out. Consequently swimming is strictly verboten there but the battery furnishes us a truck every nite to go to the river. C battery is certainly getting the bad breaks. Last January a fellow was shot on guard duty and now this. The skipper (battery commander) took it very hard.

I actually feel better out here and have much more endurance. The heat is pretty depressing at times but it has been cooler the last couple of days. I’ve lost five pounds though.

Tell Quincy I’ll write her tomorrow.

Guess this is about all for this time—perhaps when I feel a little more literary bent, I can write that letter for the Herald. Wish I could see your new home and take advantage of your sleeping offer. Maybe next month, who knows. Say hello to Jim for me.

Love,

I haven’t heard from Wylma since last March 1^st.