Weather Archives - Moss Letters

14 September 1945

Dear Folks:

Well I’m still on Okinawa and still waiting. We are supposed to leave either tomorrow or Friday for the Personnel Center but I’m afraid it may be postponed until next Monday. It’s still the old waiting game and the old cry ‘no transportation’. The harbor is so packed with ships you could hardly throw a stone without hitting one, and the airfields are running over with planes – but still there’s ‘no transportation’. Sometimes it’s hard to contain yourself. I heard today that some kind of a congressional investigation is underway about it – I hope so. Everybody seems concerned about it. Certainly no large numbers of eligible personnel are being shipped out of here – I believe the number is very small since VE day. I can’t for the life of me figure why everything moves so slow. Well that’s enough about that, and that’s the way I sit now. Let’s hope it won’t be postponed any further.

My life is very monotonous these days. It’s more a matter of keeping out of sight and trying to find something to do to pass away the time. Yesterday I rode down to the Personnel Center to attempt to pick up some rumors, but couldn’t find out much. Then a little later went on to Yontan Airfield. It has been hot and dry the past two days but in this place we may have a cloud burst in five minutes.

Chow is still terrible but yesterday we had two fresh eggs for breakfast. Now I suppose it will be another month before we get anymore.

A couple of nights ago seven Japs got into one of the neighboring battalions and injured several guards. The guys killed three of them and next morning found one of them was a woman dressed in full Jap uniform.

Well I believe that’s all. Plan to go to a show in a little while and then call it another day.

Love,

7 September 1945

Dear Folks:

Better write you while I can still do it. It appears pretty definite that we will leave either Monday or Friday of next week. And I don’t think we will be in the personnel center more than three or four days. Life is pretty easy right now as far as work goes, but the waiting is pretty tough. I will go to Fort Logan, Colorado to be discharged, and will get travel pay from there to Minatare. I thought it might be nice for you to meet me in Denver, but after thinking it over, I think it would be better at home. Reading in Time magazine it looks like about everything will be plentiful by Christmas time.

I’m in not too good a mood tonight and for several reasons. I don’t like to tell you about them but sometimes I just get so fed up and peeved I feel better by writing. Maybe it was the heat today – it gets hotter than the devil and you sweat like a washrag just laying down or doing nothing. And to add to it the food is terrible. I can’t understand it. Tonight was beans [lima] and sauerkraut and coffee. And it’s like that day after day. I don’t know who gets it but when they tell you the good food goes to the combat troops don’t believe them. Since we have been in combat from June 1944 it has been that way. But the biggest thing that gets me worked up is to read about the Blackhawk Division back in the States from Europe after 46 days at combat and less than 6 months overseas putting up a bitch about being sent to the Pacific. That takes a lot of guts. A large number of the men in this battalion have been overseas three years and through as much combat as any and yet they have no idea when they will get home. And yet men with 45 points don’t get overseas service. Go through three combats or more and yet have no assurance of getting home. My 85 will get me back soon but the guys with less than 80 I sure feel sorry for. And yet they want to cut the draft and give the guys already here more service. The troops over here have taken the beating and lived in places where no white people have been, and taken what the army has left over, and when the war is over, tell them you aren’t through yet. You know how I feel about the situation. Some of those European troops weren’t over long enough to feel homesickness. Well those are my sentiments.

Had two letters yesterday one from Dad and one from Mom. Both very good. I was surprised to hear how well your store is going, and I can tell you have bigger things in mind. I am certainly proud of you and admire you for the courage to do it. And I feel like [if] you do that, it can grow into a big success. I know you are the right guy that has the stuff to deal with people and build up a good reputable business, and I know that when you get ready to leave it, it won’t go to pot, because the Moss boys will take care of that. I feel like I have a lot to say about it but I’ll save it until I get home.

I think I told you not to write any more. It feels good to write a letter without knowing an officer will be looking it over later. I know a lot of letters will have some torrid stuff in them now that censoring is off.

Last night I went to USO stage show that I didn’t think was so good. But there was three girls in it, so I guess it was worth going to. We have a pretty nice stage considering it was built and designed and built by GIs. Kay Kyser’s show was plenty good, full of a lot of laughs, and pretty gals.

An organ is playing on the radio right now – some tunes that make me half way feel like bawling. It seems almost too good to realize I’m going home. Now I’ll have [to] get used to Nancy grown up, and Philip too. Had a letter from Phil and he said it was possible he might see me, but I’m afraid it’s too late. I’d almost stay another week to meet him. He may be in for some time yet, but he will probably get leaves pretty frequently. Said he wished he had gotten married while he was still in the States.

I hope you got to see Dan Gettman. He’s a good hard working kind, but a little slow. Friendly as the devil.

Well I’m going to knock off for tonight. I don’t know exactly which letter will be the last but it may be this one. But if a week goes by and no letters [come], keep in earshot of the phone because I am probably on my way.

Love,

27 August 1945

Dear folks:

Boy what a hot day. This afternoon thought I’d get a little sleep but this tent radiates heat like hot bricks, so that’s out. After rolling around and wasting time thought I’d better write a letter.

Received Dad’s letter about the end of the war. I can imagine just how everything took place as you said. Dick and I said when he was here last that the first thing Mom and Dad would do would be to go to church, and so you did. And I can see both of you being so happy you were crying. I can’t quite believe it is over myself. And we have certainly been blessed. During the height of the Okinawa campaign, Dick came to see me one afternoon and he was so shaken and nervous that I was very worried. Over a hundred shells lit in his area and he was in bad shape. I was very worried about him. And I knew another campaign would go hard on him, so when the end came, a great weight of worry about him was lifted. But he looks very good now, husky and good natured. I don’t think he’s changed much although he’s probably a little wiser. He looks better all around than Bob W. or Duane Carroll.

And we are both looking forward to some good times when we get back. I expect to leave in a short time and it’s definite now. I guess I better send you a wire or call when I hit the mainland. Of course I’ll take it easy and be careful.

Well, I’ve got to get ready for retreat and that means get cleaned up so I better get started. Hope you had a good time on your vacation. It’s a lot different than last year.

Love,

17 August 1945

Dear Folks:

Had a nice batch of mail today so I better deserve it and try to answer some of it. Had a letter from Dad, one from Kate, one from Washington, and a letter from the University of Nebraska.

Well it appears that the war is over, and that it will be official today or tomorrow. I’m saving my last two bottles of beer for the celebration, and I can’t hold off much longer. The actual reality of the things hasn’t taken hold yet. Now I suppose you have figured that I should be home in a very short time, perhaps a month or so, but as a matter of fact it doesn’t appear that way. It seems that something always happens to delay it, and they have an excuse readily handy. Our outfit is always at the wrong place at the wrong time. For all I know we may be used for occupation forces and no telling how much longer a delay that will mean. If I’m not on my way in a month and a half I’ll start blowing up. It will be three years over here and four [years] away from home, and I’ve had about all I want. A lot of delays, red tape and excuses such as shipping and replacements is getting too common. This hot stinking Pacific and three years looking into oriental faces is too much. I guess what gets me started is the good deal the troops in Europe get, and their short stays overseas, and then in the Free Press today I see Capt. Fred Chambers, never overseas, in four years is back to Dorothy’s wedding. I feel like I could get roaring drunk tonight and poke somebody just to be doing it.

I better return to normal and discuss things more sensibly. Kate’s far between letters made an appearance today, but she didn’t have much to say. Said she was chasing Steve on her day off. I guess I better try to answer it tonight. In the letter from Washington she wants me to see her before heading home. In her letter she said ‘probably you’ll be on your way before you get this letter’. Golly if she only knew, but everybody’s like that I guess. The civilians think that whenever they hear an announcement over the radio it will just be a matter of weeks before it will take effect. They think you apply for furloughs, readjustment etc, but actually you just sit back and wait and hope and think.

One of Dad’s good letters came along too, I see you don’t know just what to do about the store and the company, and I can imagine how you feel. Dick and I thought you should stick with the company for a while yet. Dick shouldn’t be in the army too much longer and I bet he’d help you, and I would too for the time that I am home. Dick and I always talk over the humble beginnings of your store, and now we are proud as the devil of you. There are certainly lots of possibilities as you say. You seem to be doing very good, and Dick and I could hardly believe it. And what you say about the store is interesting, not boring.

Dick and I would both like you to send Nancy away for a while and let her have a good time. I know she must deserve it and I know how much I would have looked forward to it if I were her age. Better send her, it will do her good.

Yesterday afternoon I went to a hardball game and saw the XXIV Corps play Naha airfield, and the Corps won. It was the firsthand ball game I’d seen in a long time so I liked it. We had to sit in a broiling sun with our fannies on the ground so I’m a little sore today. And I’ve been playing a little softball today myself. Was playing second base and when trying to put a man out he charged me in the ribs and a couple of them are pretty sore tonight.

It is really hot, just knocks the sap out of you. Sweat all the time.

Well I think I’ll knock off and start on another letter. Censorship soon [will] be lifted now that the war is over, but I haven’t heard anything about it.

So long for now.

Love,

11 August 1945

Dear Folks:

It’s been sometime since I’ve written so I better settle down and get some written. Events have been transpiring fast and my morale has been improving. Last night I was playing cards when somebody ran down the streets yelling ‘turn on the radio’. We did and heard it say the Japs were ready to surrender. Although our battery didn’t take it hook, line, and sinker apparently the rest of the island did, because searchlights went on, and machine guns and anti-aircraft began firing, and the sky was colored with red tracers. It looked like a Hollywood premier. Although we know this may not be the real thing, something is definitely going on and perhaps this is the first step. The thought of the war being over is too much to grasp at once, and I know just how you would both feel if it is time.

Today I heard on the radio that a Jap emissary was coming here on a warship to discuss negotiations. I understand they want to leave the emperor in his position. Dad certainly called his shots good – Russia coming in and now talk of peace. At least it looks like you are quite the prophet.

Tomorrow is Sunday and I see on the bulletin board that an Episcopal communion [service] is being held at eight-thirty. I better go.

Last night after the excitement and after I had got into bed, the CO had a few of us in for some drinks. The first whisky I had tasted in ages, and it didn’t set too good with any of us. I didn’t feel so hot this morning and had to stand [during] inspection at nine-thirty. But we had the rest of the day off and tonight I feel pretty good. A pretty good show on tonight so I better go down.

A few days ago we worked an afternoon and put a floor in our tent. The first time I’ve had a floor in a long time. Well it makes pretty good quarters. We are having it pretty easy now, no wonder in the afternoons, but it’s almost too hot to work anyway. Played a little softball a few days ago and got a sore, swelled finger out of it. About as big as a weeny.

Men have been leaving every day on readjustment but they are still quite a way from my name. Each morning it looks like a railroad depot with guys shaking hands and saying goodbye. After living together for several years and going through operations together, you sometimes feel a little sentimental about seeing some of them go.

The magazines arrived – two big envelopes and a Free Press today. Also the mimeograph letters and styles came. Unfortunately the paper deal fell through, but we can still use them for other work.

Well this will have to do for another time. Sorry I didn’t write sooner but I’ll try to get on the ball a little more.

Love,

23 July 1945

Dear Folks:

This won’t be much of a letter but in order to kill a little time before [the] show probably I ought to write you. It’s been hot as hell today and the sweat has been rolling off me, but I feel better after a shower.

We had our first beer ration – four bottles. It’s warm but it’s still good.

Received two Free Presses today – one of them dated this month. It seems like every issue I read about this guy Seich being on a furlough. Has he even been overseas? Another is Clifford Teiser – what a racket he must have. But when I get home I expect it to be permanent.

I don’t [know] when I’ll see Dick again. We are a long ways apart now, but I hope I can have him down for a few days soon. Don’t know where Duane is.

Dug out my law books today and glanced over them a little. I have quite a little time to study now.

In Gladys Davis’ letter yesterday she said she was in Minatare Armistice Day and tried to get hold of you but could find no one [home]. I wished you could have seen her.

Well I told you this letter wouldn’t be much and so it is. But at least it’s some word [from me].

Love,

21 July 1945

Dear Folks:

Excuse the fancy stationery but I don’t feel like looking for something better. Had four letters this evening from Dad, Phil, Pat and Dick, so I better write someone tonight.

It’s been hot and sultry today and the weather is continuing [to] dry. But we have a clean position away from road dust and noise. Today a little after noon the island was declared secure so the battle has officially ended although there probably are many Japs still running around in small bands. Two Japs came around last night but were quickly dealt with in final fashion. But to have the island secure is a relief and probably soon we will get some movies, some beer and a little rest. Suppose you have heard General Buckner was killed. It was a big surprise to me. Today up the road a ways, someone was blasting Jap caves and every so often a big bang blew up smoke and flame. Probably some Nips were found there. Civilian Okinawans and Japs are giving up in large numbers and yesterday a family of six were rounded up. They sat near the CP while waiting for a truck to take them to a civilian compound and I looked them over. The father had on a battered hat and a toon shirt and a loin cloth and leading his two little boys. As always the wife trudged behind carrying a very young baby on her back held up by a cloth bound around his seat and one around his neck. His head was lolled back, sound asleep. And a hold of her shirt was her oldest, a girl of four or five. They were very silent, and looked like they had always worked hard. Probably the wife could walk all day with her baby on her back. The father had a stub of a cigarette and when he wanted it lit he bowed many times and showed complete humility. Finally the truck came and they look[ed] a little scared and the children hung on to their mother. A Marine helped them in the truck and as they rode away the mother nursed her baby and the children clung to her in fright. Probably they felt for sure they would be killed. They are Japs but I thought how hopeless life must have looked to them. Probably they had all huddled in a cave every day for the last two months, thinking the world had exploded, and at the same time trying to hold their family together and keep the children safe and warm. But they will be better off now. How fortunate American civilians are.

Talk of demobilization still holds the conversational spotlight and at present I am optimistic. I think it will come in six months but it will seem to drag I know.

Had a package from Gram and Gramp yesterday – some playing cards and a bar of maple sugar. How I used to crave it as a boy and I still do. I will write them tomorrow – Gram is so sympathetic and sweet.

Well it’s getting pretty dusk so I better wind up. Hang on a little longer and soon we’ll be together for good.

Love,

16 July 1945

Dear Folks:

I’m taking it easy this afternoon but can’t sleep much ‘cause it’s too hot, so maybe I can catch up on a few letters. Boy, it’s been hot the last couple of weeks and today it’s really warm, one of those prewar, stateside days when you went to the lake and swam and ate watermelon. Have had no opportunity to go swimming although the ocean looks cool and blue from the hills. At some spots in the hills there are beautiful views of the harbor and coastline, green near the beach and deep blue farther out. Looking down on this at night, it is a myriad of lights, like travelog pictures of Rio de Janiero. I know you would be amazed at the vast amount of construction and activity here. It seems almost a miracle to me how fast big machinery and installations go to work and how fast the landscape changes. Now we have broad three and four lane highways where before our trucks had to be tractor-towed to get through. When I returned to places I had seen earlier in the campaign I could hardly find my way around. The face of the island had been changed so much. In the villages and cities the civilians are picking through the rubble piles salvaging what they can so the mess can be cleaned up and bulldozed into a nice area. And in the fields the civilians are hoeing and harvesting what produce they can. I saw a big bunch yesterday and I noticed there was almost no guard around them. They seem cooperative and quiet.

I’m glad you wanted me to go to school because before I thought maybe you didn’t like the idea so well and thought perhaps I should do something else. I’m looking forward to it like everything.

Well the heat has deadened my stimulus for any more writing so I’ll call this good. Dad thought I might not want to talk of my experiences but as a matter of fact I am looking forward to telling you all about them. At least to you but I don’t know about other people. Well so long for now.

Love,

2 July 1945

Dear Folks:

I haven’t been writing all I should lately but it seems like when I have the time I don’t feel like it and vice versa. The weather has been steaming hot and it kind of knocks the sap out of you. Two days from the 4^th [of July] and I suppose it will be hot as hell. The nights are cool and with a slight breeze from the ocean. The stars come out bright and close every night. The days are long and it’s about eight o’clock before it gets dark.

Two days ago Dick called me up about eleven thirty in the morning and even though I was busy, managed to get off for the afternoon. All we could do was find a shady place and talk but that was enough. We talked about everything as usual and swapped mail. He is looking good but was covered with dust from the long ride he made to get to me. Soon we will be [in] a permanent area and then I [am] going to try and have him spend a few days with me. He is not having it too tough and before long he will be taking it easy. I think we have much to be thankful for as we both came through alright. I feel almost certain this will be my last combat and that is a great load off my mind. Sometimes you think maybe something will happen the next time. The artillery fire we got a couple of times was making me pretty nervous, but it’s kind of humorous to think about afterwards – some of the incidents that took place. Dick and I both remarked about how our knees got to shaking a couple of times and even if you grab hold of them they still shake, even after the danger has past.

Your mail reaches me in as good a time as mine gets to you so you see how good the service is. And almost everyday I get one from someone. I received one of the first class Free Presses, and the most recent I’ve yet gotten but the packages and other magazines must still be on the way.

I have been allowed to tell you I’m in the XXIV Corps and I will wear that patch when I get back. It is a white circle with two blue hearts. My stateside uniform will look colored up with the Asiatic Pacific Ribbon with two stars, the Philippine Liberation with one star, good conduct, and American defense ribbons. I will have six overseas bars and one three-year bar. I will look like a veteran. But I hope it won’t be too long til its Mr. Moss and current scuttlebutt says it will. I think that regardless of what others say. My old eyes got misty as hell last night when I went over to the radio and heard some music that I used to play in the symphony at [the University of] Nebraska. What I want to do when I get back is just be a complete independent loafer for a few weeks and sleep every morning til ten, and then get up and eat strawberries and cream on breakfast food and tear into some fresh eggs and milk, then stick around the house and look at Dad and you and get re-acquainted. Another thing I’m looking forward to is new clothes, it will seem funny not to have everything the same. I will get $300 at discharge and I suppose it will take about all of that for a new outfit.

You probably haven’t been receiving any bonds. The last one should have been for February but before long you will get four at one time. They are only sent when we get paid and I haven’t been paid for four months. About the only good aspect of this place is that you can save money. To control inflation we can draw only ten bucks a month and the rest must go home. So I will probably have something over a hundred to send. I hope I will apply my savings in a wise manner when I get back and I would appreciate postwar ideas from both of you. Dick and I talked over my orchard deal and he is for it so I told him I would investigate when I got back and find out first hand its possibilities. I would like to go in [to] the deal where Dick could farm as he wants to and me be the partner but an inactive one. I think the Army has made me want something solid and be my own boss. I have had enough orders directed at me. Some officers think they are right solely because of their rank regardless of what an enlisted man may think and sometimes I feel like it’s a slave and master set up. But that’s not true of all of them but a few can make it bad.

Haven’t seen Duane for a long time. I wonder what he thinks now. He was pretty cocksure and had certain ideas of how to win this war. He thinks he’s going to be home soon but how in the world he figures it, I don’t know. I suppose Marge is getting fatter every day. Wished I had a heart interest myself. These married guys really say it’s great.

I hope I can read my law books again soon when we get settled down. I’ve hauled them around in a box since Oahu. On Leyte I gave one to a Philippine school and they were really glad to get it. Also I expect to get some books on advertising. I signed up for an Army Institute course about three weeks ago. If I get out this year I think I’ll get back in school, sometimes I think by golly I’ll get an education and a good one if I don’t have anything else. I may be a little older but there will probably be plenty like me. But I don’t know just how I will feel when I get ….

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wonder when his discharge was coming.

I started to quit once before and I better do it this time. So adios for another time.

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,