Dear Mudder and Dad,
Ye Gods! I just opened up my box of stationery and what was there but a letter I wrote a full week ago. Jesus! What a sap I am.
Well the worst has happened. I’m now no longer in the 100th Div. In fact I’m no longer in the Infantry. It’s a branch of the Quartermasters, the 1297 Labor Supervision Co. In short I’m in a Co. with the T.O. strength of—now listen to this—7—men—yes! One officer and 7 men (all non-coms). I’ll be either an acting 1st. Sgt., and or an acting Mess Sgt. or and acting Supply Sgt. Etc. Later the actual ratings will be open so maybe I’ll be getting a rating. I don’t know. The food here is divine. For dinner today I had, now listen, ½ fried chicken (large), French fries with tomato sauce, salad, strong black coffee (very good) hot rolls and all the ice cream I could eat (it was made with canned milk and eggs and tasted like Chapman’s 90 cent stuff. The work is negligible. What’s the catch? I don’t know when I’ll get out of here. We have 265 P.W’s working here on a rather large ration dump. They like the work and need little handling. The work, however, won’t be over until spring so I’ll be stuck here unless sufficient replacements come in. That’s the whole story.
My address is:
Pfc. W.W. Taylor, Jr. 19203811
Hq. 1297 Labor Supervision Co.
A.P.O. 758 ℅ P.M. N.Y.
We live in a factory administration building with steam heat, hot bath etc. Giessen is not a bad town but ye God’s so many roughnecks. We go out at night in groups naturally. We are a long way from Stuttgart now near Kassel. I shouldn’t say we. None of the old gang is nearby.
As far as the army goes, this is wonderful but I’d still rather be home.
I’ll have to close now.