Wednesday, June 9, 2010

Letter 234- September 5, 1945


September 5, 1945
(Derdingen, Ger.)

Dear Mudder and Dad,

I’ve been putting off writing to you for days hoping that I’d receive a letter, but so far it’s been no go. I don’t know what’s wrong again but that’s the way it always goes.

I’m practically going crazy these days with boredom. Every day they’re slapping more and more restrictions on us, until life is becoming unbearable. They don’t give us any time off but neither are we doing anything worthwhile. It’s the greatest program of organized “nothing “ that I’ve ever seen, and this school business occupies only about 3 or 4 hours a day so the rest of the time we just sit and are waiting and wondering if we’ll ever get home. If we only had some idea of how long it would be there’d be some hope, but the way it is I don’t know what to think. The only entertainment we get is the movie. Out of 230 men in the company 13 can get to the show each night by riding the 15 miles on an open truck. (excuse my writing).

The weather’s lousy (as usual), cold and damp in the morning, hot and steaming in the afternoon, rainy in the evening. What I’d like to do to Germany ain’t fit to be written down. I’ve now got 47 points toward discharge and with the fact I’ve been overseas for more than a year, I’m pretty well set up.

School must be about ready to start up again—probably will have begun before you receive this letter. Wish I could be among the alumni who drop in around the beginning of the term.

We’re all so damned homesick that it hurts. There’s about 15 of us in my room and all we talk over is that evening drive, or a hamburger or a lit up street, neon signs, a comfortable chair or any of those little things that one doesn’t ordinarily think about. Honestly I’d give $100 outright to be able to walk up Hollywood Blvd. I guess it’s just that we’ve fought and won, so now we’d like to go home and have somebody else do a little bit.

Well, hope I get a letter soon.

How about a package of candy, cookies, sandwich spread, etc. The food’s worse than ever.

Best Love,
Bill

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