Reader's Digest Archives - Page 2 of 3

31 January 1944

Dear Folks:

Your letters lately have been so newsy and interesting that I have felt obligated to answer them immediately, so before my supper gets well settled maybe I can catch up (on) one more letter. Recently I had a change of station and during such times the censor cuts the letters up quite a little—so much that I couldn’t get the initiative to write. But now that we are settled I can write with maybe a little more interest. Dick called me up last night to find out when I was off so we could meet each other and it looks like next Saturday will be the day. We certainly are lucky enough to be able to see and talk to each other so often. And while we’re out, we’ll pool our talents (?) and try to find the shells, and some that you will like no end. And then payday is very soon now so we’ll feel pretty much in the mood to shop. Also today received the Free Press, and three yesterday so I’ve been busy with mail. It only takes a few minutes to read the darn things but they are certainly welcome. I also read about putting the pictures in the paper. Sounds like a pretty good idea and the paper will be more interesting. As I said yesterday was a big day for mail – received a law book from the friend in Washington. One I have been wanting and written by Lawrence Vold who is a professor at the University of Nebraska. I heard Miller and the other boys talk about him and I know him by sight.

Now that I am on Oahu and will have the opportunity to go to a dentist, I hope soon to get the bridge. And I did receive the money order, and in good time too. While I’m on the subject of Oahu maybe I can get together a few more items about the place. (The censor cut out the rest of the page.)

…you pick out every nationality and every combination too it seems. But with so many servicemen the streets are packed and every store and stand does a gold rush business. There are many places I hope to see including some museums, buildings and other natural beauty spots. I wish you could go with me down Kalakua Avenue that runs along Waikiki and watch the boys ride the surfboards, and forget the howling cold winds you are probably now having. Each afternoon the office crew plays a little volleyball and we’re all getting pretty brown from it. Our office is a Japanese tea house in a garden set in a little valley. The walls are set with sliding panels so that the sides can be opened up completely or completely closed. There are no hinges or windows in the place. I understand the building was imported from Japan.

I wrote a couple of days ago to the Colson’s and Carroll’s so you can breathe easier now. I’m glad I’ve got it done too. I’ve read about the treatment that Gramp is receiving in a Reader’s Digest of a few months ago I believe. Your sentiments about the ultimate value of these new discoveries in view of wars is indeed to be doubted. Tonight a USO troupe from the mainland with Allen Jenkins is here. The ones from the mainland or the ‘old country’ are darned good but the local productions are pretty old. Well it looks like I’m stalled for now so here’s the end of this. Had a letter from Patsy yesterday too – I sent them a picture and they liked it quite a lot.

Love,

1 September 1943

Dear Folks:

Although I just wrote you last night I guess another letter won’t be wrong after I laid off for a while. After recall we usually manage a volleyball game with teams from the other offices, then follow it up with a shower before supper. Now that I have showered and ate, I feel pretty good and ready to relax or get in a bridge game tonight. With the abundance of avocadoes on the nearby trees we usually have one for dinner and supper, although I can’t remember ever eating one in the states. Well the school kids are starting school again and everyday the little Japs etc trapaise by on the road on the long walk home. They look about the same anywhere I guess. I saw a class of small children at the Catholic parochial school and what a variety of brands. From the whitest to the blackest and shades in between.

Tomorrow is my day off and while I’m in town I think I’ll have the photographer work on me. Perhaps I can make the pictures suffice for Christmas presents. My friend in Washington is sending me a book—she always writes regularly and I consider her a very close friend.

I hope my allotments are arriving regularly and in the right amounts. Being so far away from the War Department offices we have many cases of incorrect and delayed allotments and I wouldn’t want to have them get messed up. Handling these things, together with other personnel work is the job that I am in, and I think it is one of the most desirable jobs in the regiment.

My Reader’s Digest came yesterday but it immediately starts the rounds in the billet and so far I’ve just read the jokes and shorts.

And of course the first of the month is that day that we are rewarded for efforts, payday, so I suppose the dice and cards will see plenty of action tonight although our billet seldom gets away from the bridge games long enough to try their luck.

I guess I’m like everyone else in enjoying the Free Press and especially the comments about the servicemen. Now perhaps I can keep track of those monkeys that made high school and after, the clutter of mischief and fun that those years were. I think I’d rather see Bill Emick more than any other one fellow. I wonder when you were digging around among the stuff I left you, came across my old model planes. You know I get a hankering to get out a bottle of glue and wood and start on another one. I guess the gas model is pretty well beat up, but I wouldn’t be surprised if I someday patched it up again, even if my glasses are an inch thick.

I heard a broadcast of Winston Churchill’s speech from Canada last night and also the Pope’s today. It seems pretty certain that the culmination of the war is in the home stretch, and our turn to swing the final punch, but too much optimism is not good.

The mountains look beautiful in their purple robes as the sun goes down, and the ocean is deep blue and quiet, so I’ll get in this mood too and take it easy for the rest of the night. I guess this (is) goodnight and the end of another column.

Love,

18 February 1943

Dear Dad:

I received your typewritten V-mail today and to attest to my vow of early reply, here I come. Your letter was very interesting and I took a long time reading it. Your free style manner of detail and continuity add a punch of zest and life. Anyway I like ‘em bushels and you should write more often. In case you haven’t guessed, to write a lengthy and appealing letter over here is quite a task and often I quit in disgust. I hope you liked what I sent a while back but I think you will go more for what I sent yesterday. As a result I am on a precariously balanced budget for the rest of the month, but that is nothing new. And I had a great deal of satisfaction in sending them. I’m drawing seventy-nine bucks every thirty days now so I plan to increase my allotment to about thirty-five dollars. By the way I’m a corporal now. That’s where the extra dough is coming from. I hope the bonds have started to come regularly now. Tonight, or the forepart of it, was very unusual. For the first time in the Army I got into a bridge game and by a real stroke of luck came out on top. It was contract so I did more guessing than anything else. My partner and I worked together like a pistol and a wheel. Today two Free Presses came but I couldn’t figure out the handwriting on the wrapper. The Reader’s Digest also came. Since the latest postal regulations, mail has been slower and not so frequent but on the whole it is pretty good. Perhaps you wouldn’t think it would get very chilly here but I’m using an overcoat and raincoat along with three blankets. If I had a mattress it would seem much warmer though. In my estimation a bed is man’s best friend and when I get home I’m going to stretch in all four directions at one time. The war news seems to be changing color every day and I’m earnestly reviving hopes of a homecoming in early 1944. This is the end of the communiqué tonight. In a way I hate to stop but I couldn’t think of anything anyway. I’ll buy you a banana leaf hat for your garden this summer.

Love,

2 February 1943

Dear folks:

I’ve been wanting to sit down and write you a long letter, and until tonight something else seemed to take up my time. Perhaps tonight I can do it. What occupies my time mostly in the evenings is going to the show or reading. And when I do this, the first thing I know I’m behind several days in my letters or have little time to write anything more than a line or two. By taking advantage of the library on pass days and drawing books from the traveling library I manage to keep plenty to read on hand. I just finished a J. Hilton book tonight “And Now Goodbye”, a story of an English preacher and his inner urges. The Reader’s Digest is dissolved in short order but there is always some one who wants it next. The libraries are very limited in their law books and I have read all of them. I had intended to ask you to send me a couple but that is now impossible, or at least involves too much red tape to attempt.

I can never write a letter without recalling some of the beauty of the islands or their difference from the states. I wish I was in a better position to describe it more fully and let you know actually where I have been and what there is here, but I guess that will have to wait and for the time being be satisfied with generalities. Maybe I go a little off the deep end on the subject, but I don’t think so—it makes me realize this is just a sample of the world. What is over the next horizon? Although the sunsets perhaps aren’t congruous with the descriptions the travel bureau puts out, many of them are really stirring sight to see and the sunrises aren’t far behind, in their own right. The cloud formations near the mountains put the final touch to them. Maybe it’s the proximity of the old and new that is appealing. In many places what the people did a hundred or so years ago is still carried on, while on the other hand some of the places you go take you back to the hometown main street. At our weekly battery get together the highlight of the program was a talk on the islands by a Scotsman who came here a long time ago and who since then has visited most of the South Seas. He was a very good orator but aside from that he points out legends and places to visit, supplemented with technicolor pictures. Sometimes I get an uncontrollable urge to take off after the war and just start wandering and go in any direction I feel like. I could really discourse along here all night if I didn’t have to worry about the scissors. As far as I know none of your letters are censored, at least nothing has ever been deleted.

By the time you read this what you wanted should be on the way unless I can’t finveigle these oriental storekeepers to get sufficiently interested in my case. Whenever you ask information from one of them, nine times out of ten, are ‘no got’ and offer no suggestions or show a substitute.

When I get down to the final analysis perhaps I haven’t written any more than I usually do, but it is really hard to put together a newsy letter. Practically everything I do is GI and on the other hand everything GI in letters is verboten. My mail situation is pretty good all told, and I don’t go very many days without something from somebody. Had a letter from Gram today, says many foodstuffs are getting scarce but that otherwise everything is jake. I better write Katie tonight and thank them for the pictures and the gifts. I’ve really extended a sensible limit already so I’m going to stop and wait until I get another (letter) of yours to answer. And there’s no better way to end it than by repeating there’s no place like home.

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,

22 December 1942

Dearest Folks:

I have plenty of time this evening so here’s another dubious attempt at a letter. A poker game is going on nearby and it’s a temptation but have several letters to answer. I engage in the sport to some extent but not enough to imperial my finances. I had two letters today, one from you and one from Nancy. I seldom miss a day for letters unless there is no mail at all. Your letters arrive in pretty good time but often not in the order you write them, for instance the ones today were dated earlier than your last airmail. Censorship precludes giving the exact date, the theory being the enemy might be able to ascertain by schedules, our station. Yesterday the piece of wedding cake came. It was hard but I nibbled on it and ate the candy. The bells add a little to the adornment of my bunk. Also the Reader’s Digest came. There is an article in it called “Never Shoot An Hawaiian Twice”. I’ve heard the story over here several times.

I don’t know what I’m going to write about for news. I suppose you have the papers by now. This weeks (battalion newspaper) is out done up in a little fancy Xmas cover. I’ll send it. Gladys Davis has been writing regularly and gives me the dope on the guys that I lived with. I sure want to go back. If Congress passes the six month’s pay for the expiration perhaps it would be easier but anything may be a long shot now. Maybe I’m wrong but I believe after the war there will be many opportunities. With the organization and development that aircraft will undoubtedly realize, every country in the world will be open to development. Wait and see.

This is all I can dig up tonight. I can’t realize its Christmas but every time I hear a carol it beings back plenty.

Love,

15 December 1942

Dear Folks:

Five days have gone by without a letter to you so I better do something about it. I just inhaled two cream puffs and my stomach feels like a little man cleaning the inside of a locomotive boiler. Anyway here goes. I don’t know where to start, or what to write about that would be very interesting or different but maybe I can find something. On pass last Saturday went to the USO dance and watched two dozen girls get mobbed by two thousand soldiers. I left early—disgusted and disappointed. The only thing I did was eat a fair meal and listen to military music in a clubroom. Sunday failed to go to church, although attendance is encouraged and made possible.

Had a letter from Gram sent from Minatare. Gramp looks like a Southern revivalist and Gram the product of his preaching. The pictures came yesterday—what finery and rainment. They were good and they’ll always torture the seams of my billfold. A couple of the guys thought Dad was the guy with the ring. And Mom, you looked like you were going to a teenage waltz party. I should have a batch for you in a day or two. I don’t suppose the other packages have gotten to you yet. And the Reader’s Digest hasn’t come, although I have a notice of subscription.

I just finished Clarence Danow’s own life story and it recalled the days when Paul would let me revel in the mysteries of the typewriter book in Greeley. It’s a good book with many philosophies and ideals, but embraces many points of argument, of which I found plenty and wondered if I was right.

One of the most pleasing nights on the islands are the cloud formations. Sometimes they are fleecy and downy and form a collar around the mountain cones. But they are especially unique in the morning at sunrise and at sunset. The sun seems to permeate them and make them glow.

Last Sunday when I was driving I saw about five natives spearing fish. They go out about a hundred yards or so and have a spear that they handle like an arrow. I can’t figure out how they stay under so long.

This is all I can throw together this time.

Love,

10 December 1942

Dear Dad:

It has been a long time since I last wrote but if the family tatters the edges of those I write then I guess I can be excused, but I do want to write you often and keep as close to all of you as I can. Tonight was a landoffice business on mail and about everyone rated something. I had two and a postcard; one from Pat and a card from the Reader’s Digest about the subscription. I have about a dozen books on my bed but the Digest is a must. The town nearby operates a free library or rather a traveling free library. Also the Red Cross supplies us with plenty of old magazines.

Tonight the radio is going on as usual and right now it’s Major Bowes. Radio batteries are pretty non-existent. I guess the WPB has ruled them out for commercial purposes. For other entertainment the USO makes movies possible. They are shown in the recreation room of the hospital. Most of the fellows are attending. But I walked to the irrigation ditch for a bath and didn’t make it back. The army has a PX in town that is pretty well stocked and where soldiers can get essentials and supplies at reasonable cost.

There is a little news—have a pass on Saturday to go to the beach, wouldn’t you like to swim in December? The flowers are getting prettier all the time.

Last night I sent you the paper and a letter so I’ll slack off.

I’m in good spirits and better health—this sunshine is a good tonic. Hurry with Katie’s pictures. Goodnite and I’ll take you up on the jacket.

Love,

3 December 1942

Dear Folks:

I’m quite a ways behind in my letters—got a hot full two days ago after the dam broke so I’ll probably be here all night answering them. And today received a telegram from Katie and Tom, sent from Torrington. Hope she has mine by now. I wish I could tell you something that has been happening lately but that will have to be storytelling later. Anyway I was able to sleep half the day, then take a swim in a reservoir. But I still feel like I’d run a marathon foot race. Two nights ago missed a letter to you for writing the news for the paper. The issue today was the sixth. Wished I could get more space. Then last Sunday spent the afternoon watching our ball team get beat again.

With mild weather prevailing here, it’s hard to imagine all of you shivering under overcoats. The flowers continue to bloom and skies to stay blue. It’s much warmer than last winter in Escondido but cool enough to sleep nights.

So far I’ve received three packages from you so I probably have the Thanksgiving box. I mailed two to you today. They weren’t insured and I hope they don’t get broke. I’m going to send some shorts for the kids soon. I know its winter there but they are so distinctive want to buy a couple pairs. And have you received the ones sent about a month ago?

Suppose Gram and Gramp are back on Coronado by this time. Bet you all had a swell time together. And Katie and Tom are deep in the throes of married ecstasy.

Haven’t got the Reader’s Digest yet—hope they start coming soon.

I guess this about covers everything this time. Yes, it would be swell if we could annilate a turkey together next Thanksgiving. Perhaps—who knows?

Goodnight another time.

Love,

29 October 1942

Dear Folks:

I rang the bell today with three letters thanks to the ambition of Dick and Nancy and I’ll answer them ‘ poste roote’. All were V letters. For the past two weeks have been news fatherer for the outfit and when the next issue is pointed, I’ll send you the column to file among my service memories. News is as scarce as a Jap in Lockheed so probably most of my letters are repetition. Sure I get good grub. I’m still riding a wave of optimism concerning the war and hope I’m right. I can’t imagine it otherwise.

I can easily envision all the activity around the home site on Katie’s big day—just to meet Tommy would be something. Who’s going to say the words? And to have Gram and Gramp there will be something too.

Well Christmas is again at hand and so far I’ve had a time finding anything suitable although I’ll find something. Last Sunday went to church and our own too although the pews were warmed only by a major and two privates.

Guess I told you about the subscription to Time and The Reader’s Digest.

Sorry about the brevity of this but there isn’t any more—what a paltry of peas would taste like right now.

Love and goodnite,