Letter 214- July 15, 1945(2)

July 15, 1945-2
(Vaihingen, Enz.)

Dear Mudder and Dad,

This letter is in answer to 3 that I received from you today. The first two bawled me out for not writing and the last one said you’d received 2 letters from me. Some stuff. Really I haven’t been receiving your mail any better that you’ve been getting mine. I’ve been averaging about 2 letters a week and sometimes 3.

Well tomorrow we’re moving again. We’ve only been here in Vaihingen for about one week. This moving is becoming a pain in the neck. I guess it’s necessary though with the other outfits constantly moving out. This time it’s somewhere near Heilbronn. I wish we could get down to Lake Constance. The 10th Armored is down there now living the life of Reilly in all those resorts. Hummmm never can tell.

I’ve been pulling guard here 2 hours on—6 off. That sounds better than it actually is. Really it’s 3 hours awake and 5 asleep—if—you don’t have to fall out for one or another formation. “Ich habe kein verstat”.—“Nichts verstay”.

Well, yesterday I signed up for schooling over here. If I’m extremely fortunate I might get to go to college in England. Otherwise I’ll go to “battalion school” which is quite extensive but of a limited nature. Battalion school could be great if they do as E&I has planned, (Education and Information), but I’m afraid the brass will try to make of it an “after hours” affair, training all day and school at night. It won’t work. A man’s too tired at the end of a day. Anyway I’ll take a fling at it.

I’ve signed up for German and radio. Two subjects is all a person can carry at one time and I don’t believe those two will conflict with one another. Now that the “no fraternization policy” is being taken away it shouldn’t be too difficult for me to gain a working knowledge of the language rapidly.

Well, this about does it. Hope this mail situation straightens itself soon.

Best Love,
Bill

Letter 212- July 11, 1945

July 11, 1945
(Vaihingen, Germany)

Dear Mudder and Dad,

Well, while I’m waiting to go on guard duty I’ll at least start this letter. I suppose you saw in the paper that “Ye olde 100th Division” is slated to stay in the E.T.O. until the first of next year at any rate. I’m perfectly satisfied with that arrangement.

I’ve been sick as the devil for the last few days—diarrhia. I probably spelled that wrong. Today I finally got something for it. Hope it does some good since I’m getting tired of living in the bathroom.

I’m guarding a Russian camp and we are having a time. Last evening a bunch of them got drunk and a fight ensued. You should have seen me holding 2 of them apart. They were trying to hit one another but succeeded only in hitting me. They were both husky but the way Russians fight nobody could get hurt. They stand sideways to one another and strike out with the backsides of their forearms. I suppressed a desire to knock their heads together. After we calmed them down they wanted us to drink some Schnapps with them. Wot a bunch.


(sketch here)

Gotta go now. I’ll write again later.

Best Love,
Bill

Letter 211- July 10, 1945

July 10, 1945
(Vaihingen, Germany)

Dear Mudder and Dad,

I received the two badges from “Mattsons” last night and I certainly am proud to wear the big one. I think I’m the envy of the regiment already. Fellows I don’t even know often approach me on the street and say, “where in the world did you get the snazzy C.I.B. One guy offered me $20.00 for it today. I laughed right in his face. I wouldn’t part with it for “nothings”, posilutely. I think the little one is cute too, so I’m enclosing it in this letter.

If I’m going to get this all in an airmail envelope I’d better not write much.

Pulling a lot of guard duty now. Having a little trouble with Russians here. The French gave them arms and let them do as they pleased. Situation is all right now.


Best Love,
Bill

Letter 198- May 21, 1945

May 21, 1945
(Göppingen, Germany)

Dear Mudder and Dad,

Received your letter of May 2, today, Mudder. Damn this postal service anyway. Nineteen or twenty days is just too damn long. Anyway I just came off guard duty at a military hospital here in town. Paralyzed S.S. troops. I’d like to shoot the lot of ‘em—still cocky as hell. But that’s getting away from the main subject. It’s raining like all hell so I thought there couldn’t be a better time to write a letter. Just the same as yesterday, we train and guard, eat and sleep. Once in a while we have a little action when the “Ruskies” (Russian slave labor) gets on a drunk and start beating one another over the head with vodka bottles; but all in all there’s little to break the monotony. I love it though.

I was sorry to hear that Ben had been wounded. I wouldn’t take that War Dept. telegram too literally, however. Anything more than a little scratch is a serious wound in their estimation.
So they’re still piddling around with the settlement of the estate. I wonder if any of us will live long enough to get any good from it. Maybe my great-great grandchildren will be the ones to reap the benefits. As the French say—“No compris American bulls_ _ _.” Me neither.

They’re beginning to hand out passes to places all over Europe now—Paris, Brussels, Nice, Rome, England, etc. and in such quantities that maybe before too long I can get to go somewhere again. I hope.

Chow here is getting fierce—beans, beans, beans and boiled water (coffee it says here). I don’t know what’s wrong. Can’t blame the cooks. They can’t cook with what they ain’t got.

That about does it for today. Good evening, Auf Wiedersehen and stuff like that there.

Best Love,
Bill

Letter 134- October 17, 1944-2

October 17, 1944 (2)
(England)

Dear Mudder and Dad,

This is the second of two letters I’ve written today. Since I finished the first one and dropped it in the mailbox I received six letters from you. I probably wouldn’t have written this one except for a small phrase at the end of one of them. It was “thanks for the letters last week.” Suddenly I realized what a heel I’ve been. I’ve started out more letters with-“I’ve been too busy to write.” Baloney! The real reason was I was just too goddamn lazy to make the time. Really I’m sorry. I want you to remind me of this note every time I let up on my writing and if I miss a single day you’ll know something really important will have happened.

I was sure glad to get that mail. One was dated September 6 and one was dated October 5. All in all they must cover all the letters I’ve had coming. From the questions and so forth that you asked, I should be able to write a dozen letters.

I’m on guard tonight and is it a godawful night for cold, wind and rain. The weather up here wasn’t half bad when I first arrived but now—Phooey! I’ll be on four hours straight and then I’ll be through.

Well, I’ve got quite some time before I’ve got to be at the guardhouse, but I don’t know what to do. Think I’ll get a little shuteye.

Best love,
Bill

P.S. - Mother, you get rid of that cold.
Bill

Letter 97- May 3, 1944

May 3, 1944
(Camp Crowder, Missouri)

Dear Mudder and Dad,

Well, I’m off in the damn Guard House again. Woe is me. This is getting to be a nasty habit. I even wish at times that I weren’t in the army. Am I kiddin’? I’m somewhat lucky, however. The rest of the company has got one of those silly night problems and I’m getting out of that, thus killing two birds with one stone.

As I have [said] many times before, things are pretty much [the same] in radio school, but it’ll probably be the last time I’ll ever say so because training ends this week. I may go out on C.P.X. and then I may go out and have a continuation of radio. Still again I may go to Leonard Wood, then again I may go to another school here. That’s what I like about the army; one is always so certain of what comes next.

I got paid just the other day so my finances are pretty good. I got $23.00 and a bond came out of that. With the money I have left over from last month I’m doing O.K. I wish I had a little more chance to blow some of it.

As the papers say, we’ve been having a bit of “weathuh” up here. No floods but so damn much rain that on rare occasions I see the sun I feel as if I should worship it like a Druid or sumpin’.

Write me all the details of the trial Mudder. I think the laughs will be priceless. Wot a gal!!

Mudder, I’ve been looking for a Mother’s Day gift for you around here but have found nothing really suitable so I think I’ll just send a money order for $10.00 instead. Is that okay?

Best Love,
Your Brat
Bill

P.S. Please pardon the horrible handwriting.

Letter 89- April 11, 1944

April 11, 1944 (2 am.)
(Camp Crowder, Missouri)

Dearest Mother and Dad,

Here I am on another detail, damit! It just seems impossible for these palookas to get it through their thick skulls that the men need some sleep occasionally. Aw! I’m getting so damn tired of this army that I could die. Tonight I’m on Barracks Guard which is just what the name implies----but why they need a guard is what I can’t understand.

Well, this code business is reaching a crisis fast. Two of the fellows I came down here with have already flunked out and have gone to Ft. Leonard Wood and 4 others including me are pretty low. I have been doing a little better, however; so we’ll just have to do the best we can and hope.

This radio which looked so good back at Abbot now appears to be a hellova job. There’s only one thing I can say about it and that is that I’d like to know radio, but I don’t want to be an operator in the army. This is mainly because the strain of the taking code hour on end plus the strain [one] must endure on the battlefield anyway would be just too damned much. I may sound like I’m making excuses for myself but there are even better reasons----one being that field radiomen go overseas very quickly and another is that casualties among field radiomen are extremely high. If you’ve seen pictures of the marines invading the Marshalls you know why.

They’ve discontinued radio night classes now because so many students complained of nervousness due to them so I don’t have to worry about that anymore. Most nights I don’t do much, however, because I’m so tired. Sometimes I go to a movie—the ones we get here are new and usually good—but more often I stay in.

When it comes to weather I sure pull the lousy camps. On Sunday the temperature was 80, the next day it rained and today it snowed. Oh god! Puleeze send me back to California.

Most of the fellows here in camp are getting sore as hell about the war (not that it will do any good) but now they say no 2nd. front until after the election. There’s certainly a shift of opinion against Roosey these days.

I could write a lot more but it’s cold soooo--.

Bestus Love,
Bill

About Letter 72

Bill gloats that "C" Company was able to exact revenge on some Captains and Majors who were "captured" during bivouac battle simulations. "We treated those officers as if they were real Nazis." He goes on a surprise detail and says "sometimes I feel like telling someone off but my better judgement prevents me from doing so."

Letter 72- February 20, 1944

February 20, 1944
(Camp Abbot, Oregon)

Dear Folks,

Here it is Sunday again and I’m as sore as hell. After going through another week of “apcra” out in the bloomin’ tullies they got us up this morning and took us out on detail. Some of the guys were able to slip out the back door of the barracks, but most of us were hooked. As a result I’ll have a hard time getting my telephone call through this afternoon. Sometimes I feel like telling someone off but my better judgment prevents me from doing so. There’s a lot of fellows here, however, who haven’t got better judgment and so I at least get the pleasure of hearing someone else doing a little blowing off.

Well, “C” Co. made quite a record out on the bivouac. We had 100% security for the entire 2 weeks tactical period. That is, no one ever was able to get through our outguard into camp. This is an enviable record, but it was made at a “hellova” cost as far as the men are concerned. Last week I had 6 hours guard duty every night except Wednesday. That night I was on duty 10 hours and slept 2. You can imagine how tired a body gets with an average sleep of 4 hours out of 24. Anyhoo they didn’t get in and when they were captured—O; it shouldn’t happen to a dog. We treated those officers as if they were real Nazis. It’s a wonder some of our Lieutenants weren’t busted for the way they treated some Capt’s and Majors. Our mess sarge remarked, “You guys don’t give a damn fur nottin’, do you?” Well, they said they wanted us to be tough. They’ve got no squawk coming now.

How do you like the snapshots? The one taken out on bivouac, I think is pretty good. Whenever a fellow has his picture taken around here there must be as many fellows in it as possible in order to conserve film. In that picture, however, I believe I got the best deal.

I received your letters out in camp (it’s a swell time to tell you, I know). I think that those letters of recommendation are very fine and that they may be very useful if I get to go to school. Do you think I should write a letter of thanks to the Bishop and Mr. Hamilton?

Very tactfully you’ve made no mention of the fact that I’ve made almost no statement about my finances lately. Welllll--, things are not too bad but nor is everything too good. During the last two months I’ve collected from the gov’t. $68.72 of which at present I have left $57.39. That’s not bad but I had to sign the payroll out in the woods last week and my hands were so stiff with the cold that I wrote below the line. That’s bad. I may get “red-lined” this month.

I’m going to try and call you up now.

Best love, Bill

Letter 64- January 21, 1944

January 21, 1944
(Camp Abbot, Oregon)

Dear Folks,

I will have probably called you before you get this letter, but as funny as it may seem I didn’t call last Sunday because I thought only a week had past (sic) (how do you like that) passed since my last call. Imagine! It must be the altitude. I probably couldn’t tell you what day it is if you were to ask me. Oh hell! who cares what day it is in this army anyway.

This last week has been pretty hectic but next week is really going to be a dilly. Oh groan! 23 miles hike--, 10 miles reconnaissance trip—a `pied, heavy rigging, heavy fixed bridges and other horrors too numerous to mention. Today we ran the obstacle course with gas masks on. The only consolation is that we’ve only 2 weeks basic left. The bivouac is more like (maneuvers?) war games.

In about 2 hours I go on guard duty so I’ll have to cut this letter short and get some sleep, but first I want to answer some of the questions you’ve asked in your latest letters.

As I already wrote I think the bracelet is wonderful. No one I’ve seen has one anywhere as nice. I always wear it so everyone can see it. The fellow in the middle of the picture is named Johnny Melonas—it was his camera. Speaking of Blair Hamilton, he’s been in the hospital for almost 3 weeks and it looks as if he may get a medical discharge. I don’t know exactly what’s wrong with him.

As far as A.S.T.P. is concerned I don’t know any more than I did before but it seems the army is reaching its peak and there are no openings anywhere. It seems I got in the army at the wrong time. As for as the transfer is concerned it’s out. No one can obtain a transfer from the Eng. as of Jan. 1—so there. I’m afraid they’ve got me “schnookered”. Yes I got my medal. I think it’s made of lead. I’m afraid to fool with it for fear of breaking the damn thing. It looks nice though. Ain’t that sumpin’ about Boogums Ciary though. I think we had better make peace now.

Best Love,
Bill

Letter 63- January 20, 1944

January 20, 1944
(Camp Abbot, Oregon)


Dear Mother & Dad,

Boy! Does time fly in this bloomin’ army. It seems that the weeks are flying by like rabbits lately. Only 5 more weeks to go including bivouac. I wish the first 6 weeks had gone by like that. Oh well! That’s past history.

This is the damnedest country around here. This morning it was so bitter cold I almost froze in spite of a mountain of clothes, but by afternoon the temperature was up to 70°. It’s the first time I’ve seen warm weather since I left good old California.

Today we finished floating bridges. About all we have left in our course is one 23 mile hike, fixed bridges and rigging—that’s not counting the bivouac which is really not part of our regular basic.
I tried again to see whether or not I could get those pictures for you but they seem pretty damned unconcerned down at the studio. Talking about pictures I’m having a “hellofa” time getting my film. Another thing, I noticed was my camera doesn’t have a spool in it so I won’t be able to reset the films even after I get them.

I sure wish I could find out what my future is in this army. They do everything in such a highhanded manner that it burns me up. When the war’s over and I’ve got my discharge there’s a couple of noses I’d sure like to punch. By the way, you should hear some of the sentiments expressed by the boys around here on how the country’s being regimented. No wonder Roosey doesn’t want the soldiers to vote.

That orange bread sure sounds good. In fact anything you can send—even white bread or a bottle of pickles I’d really appreciate. One kid’s folks even sent him a loaf of rye bread and a little jar of peanut butter. Don’t bother to go to a lot of trouble to get candy, however. That situation is much improved and now I can probably get it easier than you. And for gosh sakes don’t you use a lot of ration points to make stuff for me.

I’ll write again for sure tomorrow night. We’ve got Guard Duty and can’t leave the Company area.

All my love,
Bill

Letter 50- December 23, 1943

December 23, 1943

(Camp Abbot, Oregon)


Dear Mudder & Dad,

Well, the Christmas rush is on at Camp. Everything is being prepared for a really nice time. Christmas trees are being decorated, and they’ve set up a powerful loud-speaker over the Service Club. You can hear dance music and Christmas carols all over the area. This morning we were out on the rigging sites about a mile and a half out of camp and yet we could hear the music as plain as day.

The weather’s been quite nice for the last few days but tonight there’s a strong south wind and that looks like a storm. I hope that the weather stays a little warm for the next week or so because next week- Wednesday to be exact- we have an overnight problem. We go 5 miles out- sleep out- and 5 miles back the next day- FOOEY!

Despite our ironbound schedule we’re going to have it a little easy for the next 3 days. Tomorrow we can sleep late and we get to do the same Sunday morning.

I didn’t get any mail this evening but after 3 letters I really didn’t expect any today. They always seem to come in bunches.

How do (you) like this stationary- quite artistic, huh?

I have a lot of other things to write but last night I was a fire guard, a sort of night watchman; and I only got about an hours sleep all night long. So you can see that I’m damned tired.

Bestus Love,
Bill


P.S. Suddenly it’s snowing like hell. I ain’t never going to like this lousy state.
Bill

Letter 30- November 21, 1943

November 21, 1943
(Camp Abbot, Oregon)

Dear Folks,

I am writing this letter from the Guard House. Don’t worry! I’m not an inmate of the jernt I’m only on guard duty. Two hours on and four off it’s really the nuts. One tour was from 2:00 A.M. till 4:00 on a lonely post in a heavy but drizzily rain. There’s only one compensation for the misery of Guard Duty and that’s the authority that the sentinel has on his post. I stopped an officer and made him show his pass, etc. It made me feel good to give him the orders.

I hope you’ll excuse my not writing for the last several days. I know how it is, but there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. We work from 6:00 in the morning till 10:00 at night with hardly any time to crap, and then over the weekend when we’re supposed to get a day off we draw Guard Duty-24 hours straight. After Sunday Guard Duty we should get a week day off-but we should live so long.

I see according to your letter Mother that in spite of my warning you intend to come see me. I really am glad. For awhile I was afraid I really might stop you from coming. But let me say again!! Do everything in advance or you won’t be able to get near the camp.

You asked me in several of your recent letters about my pay. Yes, I was paid several days ago. The grand total of $10.00. I don’t know when I’ll get the rest, but I will send most of it home in the form of a money order when I do. I gorge myself with ice cream, candy, malts, and Sundaes, whenever I get the chance, and yet I still seem to have more money than I know what to do with. Of the money you gave me when I first came into the Army I’ve still got $9.50.

The other day we did something very interesting. We had TANKS chase us. It’s almost chow time so I’ll have to tell you about it later. If I can I’ll write more this afternoon or tonight.



Bestus Love,
“guardhouse Bill”