Reader's Digest Archives

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,

8 July 1945

Dear Folks:

Wanted to write you a long letter last night but some fireworks started and the lights were turned off so I didn’t get all said I wanted to.

The mailman brought me three letters today, one from each of you and from Pat Moss. In Mom’s letter was the pictures and the clipping about Jim’s marriage. Nancy looks very sweet and innocent in her formal. I’m sure I’ll be as proud of her as you are. I’m looking forward to having her in [University of] Nebraska next fall. That’s quite a bridge behind Mom. I guess it’s more than a bridge. Dad doesn’t look like he’s getting older as far as I can see. Gramp looks very poor and Phil so husky and filled out. I’m pretty thin right now and everyone tells me about it, but I feel alright, but get a little nervous doing paperwork all the time. Maybe you can fatten me up a little. I think I weigh about 130 [pounds] – [a] little more than I did when I came in, but I think I’ll look better when I get off this island.

I don’t know what has happened to the magazines and packages you sent. Only one Free Press has arrived. The Reader’s Digest makes it pretty regular though.

You guys think I might not want to do much talking when I get back, but I think I will, or at least I think I will. But a lot of people wouldn’t really know what you were talking about and I’d get tired of them quick.

Haven’t received the letter from Carol. I hope I can get back to see them get married.

Boy the house must be a very nice place with all the redecorating you are doing. I bet you are doing it because you’re expecting somebody home.

Dick is alright and is still on the island and I should see him soon.

Love,

6 May 1945

Dear folks:

About an hour before church so perhaps I can write you a few short lines before then. Communion is being held today and as a special treat we will have an organ. A small portable one but it sounds good.

Mail is continuing to come in good—both 1^st and 4^th. Yesterday got a package from June and today two Free Presses and March Reader’s Digest, so I’m expecting the February package any time.

I thought I better write too today because you have probably been reading about the Jap counterattack in which they landed behind our lines and we shot down 168 Jap planes. Well I was in my foxhole all night listening to artillery shells land but they did no damage, and aside from the tenseness all I got from it was more battle experience, of which I’ve had all I want. And Dick is okay. You can rest at ease about him.

My partner is trying to get me to buy in on a fruit orchard in Texas. His dad wants to sell it to him at $200 an acre for twenty acres or $4,000, and us split the cost. He figures in five years under normal years it will bring in an estimated $10,000 yearly and in 15 years will represent a value of 15 to 20 thousand. His dad has his own farms in Kansas and wants to sell the orchard. That’s a pretty cheap price. Right now his dad gets about $1,500 yearly but it is not all planted. Well it’s an idea and it sounds like a good investment but lots to think about.

Well better wash up a little for church so better get ready.

Love,

6 March 1945

Dear Folks:

Thought I better use a V-mail tonight as there isn’t much to write about. But today did have one of those seldom occasions. For the first time in almost a year I had some ice cream. It was just enough to wet your whistle but it was damned good. Probably that will be my ration for a long time to come. Haven’t had any mail the last few days so tomorrow should bring in a big batch. Got a January Reader’s Digest a few days ago so I’ve had some good reading material. In the December 23^rd issue of the Saturday Evening Post there is a good article on artillery that you might like and also in a recent American. Been laying off exercises this week and the doc is giving me sulphadiazene tablets for my back. Maybe that will do it. I guess this is about it for another time. Better write Dick tonight.

Love,

17 February 1945

Dear Folks:

What a pleasant day this has been. After I got through today there was a small package for me and of course it was the pen and pencil set. It is certainly a nice and beautiful set. I will have much use for it. I am always writing or doing paper work. You are a good shopper and it’s exactly what I wanted, and Schaeffer is my favorite brand.

Also had a letter from Pat and she always writes a long rambling one that is really good to read. She wants to send me something. And also received the October issue of Reader’s Digest. Things are gradually catching up with me. Perhaps all packages will arrive before long. And also had a letter from Mom. I think I’d have a hard time finding that fellow you mentioned, it’s quite a job to locate anyone and tougher to get around. And as he is in the Marine Air Corps, it would be harder yet. But you can never tell. Was glad to hear Gramp is better and especially that the pain has subsided. But I wonder what they will do now – probably wind up back in California. With all the Red Cross work you have, I imagine you will be very busy. But I guess all the Mosses are busy now. How different it must be now from what it was a few years back when the care and maintenance of your brood was more than a full job. I hope it will always be easy for both of you from now on.

It will be suppertime soon and after that will probably drink a beer and play a little cards. Perhaps there will be a show tonight. Got another shot yesterday and today the arm is a little tender. Tried to get a refraction at the hospital a few days ago but they were too busy. I have one pair but you can never tell when you might break them. Well this is all. I wrote this with the new pen – good stuff. Thank you many times.

Love,

15 January 1945

Dearest Folks:

A little while ago I had a refreshing bath in the river nearby, and so now after having finished supper I feel like one of the old folks who likes to sit in the evening shade and just relax until dark. I’m feeling better every day, but still feel a little abnormal at times. How good it would be to inhale a bit of frosty air or walk through a snowdrift, with both cheeks rosy and cold. Perhaps they wouldn’t appeal to you, but after having been in the hot climates for better than two years, such an experience would be a treat. The weather here is extremely sultry and depressing and sometimes it seems to sap your will to work. Now I’m sweating but this year in the sincere hope that I will be able to see you sometime in 1945. Still our Christmas mail has not come and at this late date I’m beginning to think that someone should be held accountable, and explain for the situation. I’m sure it has been a failure on someone’s part after having seen other units getting theirs. One package arrived today from Mrs. D. A. Grove. It was well beat up and looked as though it had been kicked around from pillar to post. Also received a Free Press, the first in many months and dated the 17^th August. And a November Reader’s Digest came. Although the second class mail has indeed been fouled up, the first class has been coming regularly, as of course it must. The night before last had a V-mail from mom.

Well I hardly know what to write about now. My work has been going along about the same. New things coming in each day and reports to keep up. I believe our administration is at a greater peak than when we were in garrison. I’m sure that Dad’s reports are very few in comparison to what we submit. I suppose I will always be connected with higher headquarters. I see Arden Conklin is talking officer’s training—it’s hard to imagine a man of his qualities getting the opportunity. Applications at present are out and quotas in what I might qualify in are extremely rare. The last enlisted man to leave our outfit for OCS was over a year ago. The rain has been keeping our area in quagmire and it is a job to walk around without stepping in ankle deep mud, and I suppose the rain will always be much as it is now. It’s great for the many water buffaloes around but sad for the sad sack. I guess this is all to this epistle, and you just keep breaking wishbones, and throwing horseshoes over your shoulder until I hit the states again. Hey here’s an odd little request – getting soft – can you get Wylma N’s address for me? I owe her a letter. What do you think?

Love,

10 January 1945

[The second of two letters written to his parents, just hours apart]

Dear Folks:

I just wrote you a letter only a few hours ago but after writing it I thought it wasn’t a very good one and I know you want to know all I can tell you. It’s a little after suppertime now and I feel pretty decent. I think by tomorrow I will feel almost up to par again, and I hope I never get another attack like that again. I’m so glad you liked the watch and I hope it was just what you wanted – Dad wrote me about it so I knew you were getting it. I can imagine Dad hardly being able to wait until Christmas. I’m darned glad to hear Phil is going to the Merchant Marines. I know he seems very young to you to be put into the world, but even though he will run into a lot of hard talking rough minded men, it won’t hurt him if he doesn’t want it to. I’m sure he will be better off there than in the Army. On a boat he always knows where he’s going to sleep, gets good food, and can always keep clean, while here you’re often moving, sleeping in the dirt and eating boxed rations. I’m glad all over, that he will (should be ‘went’?) where he did. I know you’re hearing all the news about what’s going on in the Philippines and where and what I’m doing but I can’t tell you much about that. Perhaps at some later date they will let us put out more information. About a week ago I sent you forty dollars and it will come in the form of a treasury check, probably you have received it by this time. I will probably send more next month. Also this morning I had three letters from Dad including one V-mail and one from Nancy, and to me they mean everything – other letters don’t spell much. Also there was three letters from Mom and all of them were recent. I understand our mail is routed direct from Frisco avoiding the stop at Hawaii. The mail situation has been pretty good although nothing but first class has arrived in many months. I haven’t received a Reader’s Digest in five months or a Free Press since last August, and aside from the two packages, no other boxes have arrived. But we’re expecting an avalanche one of these days. There must be tons of it somewhere.

I have thought of a couple of things that would come in handy now. One is either a rubberized bag to hold toilet articles or else a small zipper packet to hold the same thing. I think a flat folding one would be the best, pretty compact but one that will hold the standard size articles. And a good sturdy one that water and banging around won’t hurt too much, and put about three combs in it. And the other is a waterproof cigarette holder, to keep cigarettes dry and unsmashed, and a cigarette lighter with plenty of flints, I know they are hard to get and probably you can’t find them.

I think this is all I have in mind now, and twilight is starting to take over, so can’t write much longer anyhow, so goodnight once again.

Love,

9 December 1944

Dear Folks:

Instead of getting closer to home as I would like to, I’m going farther away. I know you have probably been anxious since you haven’t heard from me for sometime and I’ve been equally as anxious to write you and let you know everything is alright with me. Now I’m in the Philippines. Pretty hot here in more ways than one. But the most annoying aspect is the rain – it seems to rain all the time and everything is always damp. However I’m now living in a pyramidal tent which is much better than a pup tent. There are native Filipinos all around the area. A few of them have stories about guerilla fighting and how the Japs treated them. And they are always bargaining for something–rations, clothes, matches, etc. The people seem very small and their grass huts are built in proportion to their size. But I’m not much in the mood to write a newsy letter – the main thing is to let you know that I’m fine and the prospects are pretty good. Our first night here we got a Fourth of July welcoming and much of it was spent in a foxhole. Jumping in a foxhole together with the rain isn’t enjoyable, but I can’t complain when I think of the infantry fellows who are up there taking it without even the small conveniences we have. The trip here had me worried a couple of times when the air raid sounded, but we got in without an attack. If you are reading about this place you know what the Japs are doing to hold it and its no quarter fight on both sides. The best thing that happened when we first got here was mail. It was waiting – first class and a package from you – you don’t know how comforting they were. The package had chicken in it and it was a good supplement to the K rations – and the pretzels went good with some beer we managed to ship over in an office box. And then I had a letter from Dad and Mom and a card from Reader’s Digest about the subscription. Would you write them and advise them of my new APO?

WelI thought I’d write this V-mail first for it might get to you a little sooner, but I’ll write again soon and give you more dope. The siren might sound again at any time and then I’ll have to put the light out and won’t be able to finish. So adios for this time.

Love,

16 September 1944

Dearest Folks:

Yesterday was a banner day (as my banner days go). During the morning I had been a way from camp doing a little firing and when I returned about eleven Jack came busting in like a Kansas cyclone. Now the situation was reversed, I had been going over to see him and here he was chatting with me in my boudoir. He had gone to Aslito airfield on Saipan on his day off and while there decided to pay me a visit. He went to operations and found that in order to get over (here) he needed a signed certificate to the effect that he was officially off duty, and having only a few minutes he got such a slip from an engineer captain and so just made the plane over. Said he was a little outranked on the plane – opposite him was a colonel and two lieutenant colonels. After a long trip of four minutes he landed at Tinian and immediately started to find my outfit. First he hooked a ride with (a) navy chief who took him in a general direction. Next he was picked up by a Seabee and finally after a half dozen lifts, he found me. You usually wander around in fifty different directions trying to find an outfit. Jack came over on some picture business and brought a little New York photographer with a camera the size of a typewriter case. The major was good enough to let us use his jeep and so from noon until five we traveled the length and breadth of the island and I pointed out to Jack and Jake the interesting points. They were happy to have a look around and we were especially lucky to get a car to do it in. They ran around getting the choice shots and while they were doing it I wondered how by the fortunes of luck and war Jack and I were nosing through the debris of Tinian, much as we had knocked around together back home. Every now and then when we would ride along or do something we could liken to a similar situation back in Nebraska. Jack was wearing a shoulder holster and dark glasses and looked like a swashbuckling commando general. We went in some rough places and the jeep nearly threw us all out more than once. Jack had been stuck pretty close to camp since being on Saipan and it was a treat for him to get out and see something. All in all it was a good sightseeing tour and I’m sure Jack and Jake enjoyed it. I hope to get over to Saipan once before I leave although it’s hard to lay plans much in advance.

Aside from this break in the routine tonight was another beer issue day and another three cans is waiting to be opened. Cooling it is a problem and I don’t go for it lukewarm.

Yesterday received a notice from Reader’s Digest about a postwar deal so returned the card. Also had a letter from Nancy. She must be quite grown up by the tone of her letters and probably I’ll be plenty surprised at the change when I get home. I can well imagine the changes that have taken place in three years but even at that I’ll have to treat them different when I get back.

In case you had forgotten this month is my third anniversary – I mean in the army. The 18^th will end up three years and a five percent increase in wages. I must be getting to be what they call a veteran – although I can’t see myself one of those things. I hope I won’t put in another hitch before I see home again.

Well I don’t know much else there is to write about. I surely enjoy your letters too especially those l-o-n-g ones. Probably when we are home again you will swear never to write another, and I’ll bet that gets to be as much a problem as the washing used to (be). My correspondents are very few and aside from you I don’t do much writing, although as the war nears the end I better start looking for a spouse. I keep thinking how lazy and ner-do-well I’m going to be for a few months after the war – and how sweet and heavenly it will be to stretch out in a full bed and when the sun comes up pull the covers up a little higher and sleep a couple more hours – or feel the heavy blanket when it’s still and frosty and freezing outside – or a hundred other little things that I think of from time to time.

So I guess I’ll know(?) off tonight and maybe open up a can before bed time.

Love,

27 June 1944

Dear Folks:

This letter is in answer to several of yours that I received today and which were the most welcome sight I ever saw. In my last letter to you I said I was at sea going into combat and that Dick was also at sea. Well time has gone by and here I am. The details I can give you are necessarily very limited but I know you must feel anxious and perhaps some word will make you feel better – I think it will make you feel much better as you read what happened to me today. Under the circumstances you can well imagine how much your letters meant. I knew you must know something was up when you never heard from me, and that I wasn’t writing for no reason at all. I wish I could tell you all what you would like to know, but perhaps soon that will be possible. Wandering around the area today somebody grabbed me and said my brother was here. I ran over and there he was, grinning broadly and looking good. He had a little time off from ten thirty until twelve thirty when he had to meet the truck. He took a bath and cleaned up and had a good dinner then we sat around for a lengthy bull session. When we went to meet his truck he didn’t have to go back until two-fifteen so we came back and chewed the fat some more. In the meantime a slug of mail came in and I had several so we both read them. We made a lot of comments on them. Among them was a letter from Betty Sue Myers, still the same cagey Betty, undecided but engaged. I wrote her at the suggestion of Jack C when we were visiting on Oahu. When we were young and wholesome our old gang made a resolution to have a reunion at the Brown Palace (which I had forgotten) and she was anxious that we all remembered it. I think she (and Jack too) will still someday slip the noose on each other. I’ve read your letters about sixteen times already and will probably read them as many more times before tonight. I hope you can find a suitable watch – I didn’t ask for my own as it isn’t waterproof and it would take a bad time where I go. I would like you also to take my funds and buy one for Dick. As for myself I’m fine, getting good rations, and tolerating a few personal inconveniences. Also had a letter from Gramp today – Dick got a kick out of it. I thought the Chaplain’s idea for Mother’s Day was a pretty good one too. On the furlough plan. In the Central Pacific area the period is two years and the percentage allowed is very small, so small that it looks like a long time for one to come around. Probably the accident that Ike was in, he was drunk and horsing around. By the way I had an invitation from St. Andrews to a dance and house party. Also had a notice from Reader’s Digest today something about a half price subscription after the war – guess I better mail it in. I look forward to them.

By the way better quit a few of your letters V-mail for awhile – I think they will get here faster and surer. Well I think this is all I have this time. I will write you. Don’t worry if you can help it and I’m sure everything will be alright.

Love,