Giessen, Germany (Hesse)
Dear Mudder and Dad,
God! What a week this last one has been. I really don’t know where to start this letter. First you’ll notice that I’m still in Giessen and that I haven’t been transferred. That’s not really quite the truth. I should say that I’m back in Giessen. I was all packed and down at Rodheim when they finally got my service record straightened out. I’m thankful that I wasn’t transferred but I do wish that I could get home before too very long. Today one of the Third Division guards came storming in here and said that General McNarny had said last night over the radio that all men with under fifty points would have to stay here until sometime after June. That seems impossible but I’ve heard nothing about it over the news broadcasts today so it may be just some wild rumor. I hope to God it is. Another six months overseas would mean two years over here. That would be terribly unfair when they’re not sending guys overseas who’ve had only 21 months service and all of that in the states. It wouldn’t surprise me any, however, since as Bouillion says that the one word the army doesn’t understand is fairness. If it does come about that way I’m going to write some pretty insulting letters to somebody. With this damn strike situation in the states the way it is I guess nobody will be thinking much about the soldiers over here and the army will be able to do just about what it damn well pleases. That’s what I’m afraid of.
After all this time I finally received a letter from you which was postmarked December 4th. I’m glad to hear that you finally received that package that I sent you in October. I was afraid that we’d seen the last of it. I also received a letter from Ben so I can at least say that I have some mail anyway. I miss getting mail from you like the very devil. The only two things that a soldier has to look forward to are chow and mail. Over here chow is never anything to get excited over so that leaves only mail. Without that life is pretty boring. This is another one of those dead Sundays that are even worse than work days because there is little or nothing to do except listen to the radio and write letters. Last night and this morning I was on CQ so that gave me a little to do but I can’t say that I was having a very good time.
Tonight I’ll probably go to the show or out to the Red Cross for a cup of coffee. Then I’ll probably come home and go to bed—another Sunday shot. Some life, huh?
It’s almost chow time now and I have to get cleaned up so I guess that I’ll close it for tonight.