Wylma Archives - Page 2 of 3

10 February 1944

Dear Dad:

I just received another of your inimitable letters and it came at a most welcome time. My head is still going round like a merry go round. I have been very busy the last few days and just now has the volume of work begun to slacken off a little. But working like this makes the time slip by almost unnoticed. When I realize how long it has been since I’ve eaten a Moss meal, I appreciate that fact, more than ever. But maybe that’s because I’m older. I can remember when I couldn’t wait another day until I was old enough to have a bike and then later on to drive an automobile. But now here I am having gone through both and wondering what I’ll be doing when I’m forty or fifty.

I think if I take another look at your letter I can stretch this one out a little longer. Every time you say something about the cold weather and the snow, I have to pause and remember that in some places there actually is weather like that. Every afternoon around three the office knocks off for a little volleyball game on the big rambling lawns that are near our area. We’re getting pretty brown from it and we feel pretty good after sitting down all day. Last night we gathered together our best forces and had a game with some Hawaiian civilian boys and took a good beating. We played after supper with the little gathering there. It reminded me of a twilight softball game like we used to have. There was a few good-sized ‘wahines’ there together with some men playing poker on a little grass mat. They sure take life easy and are so darned good natured and hospitable. They’re pretty fat and look sloppy but you overlook that. The boys beat our pants off – they can hit a ball from any angle.

Dick and I went out together on pass last Wednesday and looked around for the shells but couldn’t find any this trip. But we’ll get them. I bought Mom and Nancy each one of those handkerchief affairs they wear over their heads and better get them mailed tonight. Dick and I are very lucky to be so near to each other but I think your summarizations are pretty correct. What did you think of the Marshalls episode? Boosts your morale up for a while and makes you a little more optimistic. There is a lot of talk around in the papers of troop rotation and furloughs but I don’t put much faith in any of it. All of it is so contingent upon other things that is seems pretty remote. Guess I’m getting used to waiting. I know what the deal on the bond allotment is. I had an allotment for that amount and it was automatically stopped in favor of a new plan so that represents the money not applied on a new bond. Hope you received the sixty bucks instead of the usual thirty-five.

Most of the civilians at home get a pretty good tongue lashing from the fellows – and especially the strikers. Boy what they wouldn’t do for them. I guess that shows that they didn’t realize what a swell place the ‘old country’ was until they had to leave it. Any little old corner of the states would satisfy most of us. But this business of laying off work sure raises the hair on us when we hear of another fifty thousand or so because they can’t get enough to have all they want. I think the situation is pretty lopsided too. Everyone whether he’s over here or back there is in the same kind of job and if he has to take bad breaks that’s just tough.

Well I’m going to do some studying for a while and the evenings are very short so I’m going to throw in the towel about here. The friend in Washington sent me another book a few weeks back and it’s full of interest so got to get busy on it. I have a little room by myself now and can setup books and spend a profitable evening with them. I think your sentiments are the best in the world although they aren’t expressed in the language of Longfellow, which is the least important part.

Love,

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,

28 July 1943

Dearest Folks:

I just returned from pass a few minutes ago but unlike most of the others this day was considerably more profitable. I slept during the morning then went to the USO only a few miles away. The place was fixed up by a few well-do-do women in the western motif, which is very clever and homelike. Probably you don’t know that the island was several large ranches and the cattle raised a sizeable industry and income. As I stayed there awhile I met one of the elderly women and we entered into a conversation, and which I later put to my benefit. My inclination for reading books such as I told you about is growing so I requested that woman’s help and through her I met Judge Case who is most cooperative and over anxious to give me whatever help he can. But what I want is some books of my own and I don’t think that will be too difficult now, however don’t fail to send the two volumes that you mentioned and the quicker the better. Probably my effort will yield little results and I may not always carry on with it, but it’s a cinch it will do no harm. But I made a valuable contact today and if I make proper use of it I can do myself a lot of good.

Had a very verbose letter from Gladys Davis today—she is in the middle of the matrimony stream and doesn’t know which bank to go to. And at the same time she gave me some advice about Wylma and what I should do after the war, and it was pretty sound and sensible. She wants me to come back to Lincoln and get back into school and get a degree and I agree with her. My ideas on that remain the same and if there is any normalcy to conditions when I come back, I hope I won’t follow another course. Incidentally I hope Gladys goes through the wedding process now, or I’m afraid she never will.

Dad’s letter came a day or two ago in your peculiarly and distinctive interpretation of grammatical construction but nevertheless a lulu in the other respects. I hope everything is well at home—although you only mention the sunnyside I hope the other side is also as well. Some of the new fellows in the outfit remark about conditions on the mainland and although I allow for some exaggeration I always hope that all is well with you.

I thought President Roosevelt’s speech was an excellent one, as most of his usually are. Some things were straight forward and definite and his plans for the aftermath especially were important and well on the way to reality. Such a plan strikes me as a good solution for the change over and a cushion for the changed conditions, which will be great. Anyway I felt encouragement and determination from it and feel all the more confident that the world won’t be a worthless scarred ruins when all is over.

Well the show begins in a few minutes and we have special entertainment from the big city tonight so hadn’t miss it. Adios for a while.

Love,

10 April 1943

Dearest Folks:

Just finished a losing game of bridge and now feeling cozy and comfortable in the chilly night air. I will look forward with a inner relief when Saturday night rolls around although the days are all the same. Katie had written me about my new title of uncle and of course I was really surprised, but at the same time glad to hear it and know that I will have someone new to meet. It hardly seems real that she will be a mother and you a grandmother when I recall our petty squabbles that made so many memories and makes a family happy. All these years seem to have gone by like a flash of light although they would never end at the time. The poorer news was Dick’s new move but perhaps by some chance he will be transferred to the islands. If he should be, I believe we could arrange a meeting. A few days ago I mailed you a bond and about a dozen photographs. I hear Wylma is working in Denver, in fact, I write to her often. I guess it’s goodbye for tonight and I do my share of the praying too.

Love,

9 February 1943

Dear Folks:

I have one of those seldom felt feelings that so rarely finds itself with me and that is to write and write some more and make a night of it. But sadly there isn’t much to put down so perhaps my ardor will diminish before very long. I bought another picture that was taken while Joe Brown was here. I believe this shot was taken when he was doing a caricature of Hitler. The picture gives a stage door view of our plush lined, soundproofed theatre. I believe you can spot me hugging the far left edge, and I was really much happier than the camera shows. Everyone in the shot looks pretty happy and he did make a real hit. Also a few days ago I sent you a Honolulu paper as a matter of interest, but I haven’t found the bridge set yet but I’ve just started to look.

Last night I saw ‘Kings Row’ and in my estimation it lived up the billing I had heard previously. A lot of good lessons in the show other than the story itself. The newsreel showed the final game of the World Series.

I had another red letter day on mail getting about five or six including one from Gladys Davis and Wylma whose correspondence is steadily increasing. And now I am this far (and) I am stumped for anything else. I hate to stop here because I know you want me to write about a lot of things you want to know and must wonder about but I’ll have to have something to talk about when I get home. I’m really very fine and think the climate is the best yet. It looks like this is the best I can do tonight.

Love,

28 December 1942

Dearest Folks:

I’ve neglected you somewhat in the last few days as a result of a change in the battery but I’m back to normal so there shouldn’t be any more delay. I think that this change is a good one for me and possibly may open some opportunities. The fellows are from New York state and have an accent and a manner I hadn’t been around before. But they seem pretty swell and I hope I make out. And here I don’t have to ‘sanitarize’ in a ditch and wait for Saturdays to see a show or cuss a clogged up lantern for light. I hope I have the same opinion of the place a month from today as I do now.

I haven’t heard from Katie since she got her spouse but I guess she’s pretty wrapped up in the newness of the thing. I sure hope they make out okeh. Had two letters from Gram, and I better answer them tonight. I guess I made a mistake when I asked her for “Harper’s”. It should have been the “American Mercury”. By the way, in Gram’s letters she put quite an emphasis on the qualities of Wylma and what I ought to do about it when the brawl is over. Maybe she’s right but I don’t know. I thought I had a letter from Dick today at first glance and I was disappointed when it belonged to another Moss. Dad’s long V-mail came today. If anyone has a literary style, he is certainly the one but that’s unimportant. Wished I could conjure up enough words like he does.

This is really the limit to my effort tonight. There isn’t much to write about. Going to a show in a half hour and digest a “Horse Opera”. Have about four law books now. I’m going to read them if it takes the duration and six months. Just finished one. I hate to say goodnight but it would take me an hour for another paragraph.

Love,

23 November 1942

Dear Folks:

Again at my nocturnal duty of writing you but afraid it won’t be bulging with much news. Again today received another package and from Wylma—some cigarettes and high tone, sweet smelling soap in her very practical vein. Is she fanning a dying ash or did I ask for it when I wrote her? Suppose by the time you get this, the tribe will be recuperating from the ceremonies—and I’ll be waiting for the photographic version of it all. And by this time suppose Gram is with you hustling about whooping it up in her sweet way.

And I don’t want to fail to mention the card I got from the Chambers in Alliance with a letter attached. With the nine boxes I’ve received I have everything from Bibles to fruitcake. I think I top the list in boxes.

I couldn’t forestall the chowhounds any longer so tonight we mauled our molars over the fruitcake. It was so darned good I hated to eat it.

Convalescing from our rhumba attempts last night we took a hand at banking over a megaphone for this evening’s routine. We’ve got one corporal in the barracks that could double for a Barnum tutored protégé. And this to a grating recording machine and grab a corner for some rare entertainment.

This is about the fourth letter from Dick’s pen tonight and it’s about time to laps so here’s the end of another one. I’ll be back again in a few hours.

Love,

13 November 1942

Dear Folks:

If you could see me writing this one you might get a good laugh—sitting on the floor using a stack of books for a back prop and a cracker box for a desk. Now you’ve got the setting, get set for some dopey dogma. Since the last time I sent you a letter I’ve received three of yours so it’s a good time I got ambitious again and one from Dan and Dick.

To get underway—what you really want to know about. Managed to make it to church last Sunday then tackled a vahine at a hoedown. She danced like an epileptic fit but I’m no Astair. The remainder of the week could be covered in about one word “ditto”. My mail has been on the lookin’ up side. I got squalmy one nite when the stars were dishing out and wrote a letter to Wylema. Said she dropped you a note about it. Guess I’m still a Houdini puzzle.

All the words about Katie’s jump takes on the scope of a witch dance—wished I was operating one of the drums but you know that.

I finally adopted an edition of “Shake Hands with the Dragon” that you mentioned. Haven’t got the dust from it yet.

Now don’t ration your stationery on me. Everyone I answer. You’re doing swell and I got plenty of ink too.

This covers it again I guess. Again soon I’ll take a three hour barah(?) and devote it all to you.

I’ve got more memories than mosquito bites and I need eight arms to scratch ‘em.

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.

27 January 1942

Dear Dad:

Got your nice letter yesterday and your style and subject matter is improving considerably but that doesn’t make any difference anyway.

Yesterday and the day before I spent in San Diego having my eyes re-examined and checked. The lens in my glasses came out one day so thought I’d use that as an excuse to get a check on them.

After considerable contemplation and serious thought I finally did last Wednesday what I’ve wanted to really try to do. I signed papers for the Air Corps. It will be necessary for the papers to go thru a lot of red tape before I really get the chance so it will probably be at least a month. My health is perfect now except for my eyes so the physical may prove to be a barrier. I want to fly or be in the air but I’m a little doubtful about it. Of course you realize this entails three years of duty but I believe the war will go on for almost that long. The pay and food are much better and a better bunch of fellows are in the Air Corps. The danger is not much greater and I’ll have to go thru a long period of training.

Just got an airmail letter from Wylma and she said she had visited you Sunday. Maybe she’s trying to rekindle a spark.

I hope you can talk Dick into leaving. Opportunities were never more golden out here. We can make good money and possibly save it for future education. San Diego is booming and he should take advantage of it. He should do it now not wait but pack up quickly. I’m going to write him.

Had a chance to see Gram when I was in San Diego having my eyes checked. I met her at the ferry and we had about an hour and a half together. Hope she makes it up Sunday.

I’m enclosing some pictures of our battalion as it looks parked around the town.

This is rather a sketchy letter but I’ll get a good one off soon.

Love,