About Letter 99

It seems that Bill is going out on C.P.X. bivouac "whether I like it or not". He doesn't see the point " if Ican't send and receive code over the radio." He is confident that he is in line for a furlough and 12-18 days at home.

Letter 99- May 7, 1944

May 7, 1944
(Camp Crowder, Missouri)

Dear Mother and Dad,

About now you are probably wondering just where in the hell I am. Well, it seems that I’m going out on C.P.X. whether I like it or not. I guess they still think they can make a radio operator out of me. If so it’s all right with me. It seems like a big waste of time but on the other hand time is something I’ve got loads of.

This C.P.X. as I’ve told you before is supposed to be pretty soft. I’ve found out that I’ll have no trouble at all writing or receiving mail so that’s OK. I don’t know exactly what they’ll do with me out there but I can’t see what good I’ll be if I can’t send and receive code over the radio.

Along with this note I’m sending another note I wrote yesterday in school.

From what I make out this furlough business is really going to be swell. I’ll probably be here in Crowder for another 3 or 4 weeks and then go to Leonard Wood where I’ll get my furlough. These new furloughs (they call them “delays in orders”) allow a minimum of 12 days at home and a maximum of 18. Oh Boy!

That’s about all I can tell you right now.

Best Love,
Bill

About Letter 98

It's the last day of Radio School and Bill receives his grades. He is pleased to learn that "with the exception of code I did excellent." Bill sends his mother a "Mudders" Day gift of $10 and tells her to "get yourself sumpin' nice."

Letter 98- May 6, 1944

May 6, 1944 (0906)
(Camp Crowder, Missouri)

To: Mudder and Dad,

This is my last day at radio school and likewise my last day in B-37. This afternoon we move and after that I don’t know what. Today I received my grades in radio and am glad to say that with the exception of code I did excellent. I made 96 in procedure, the most important test, and 92 in installation. That makes me feel better.

Happy Mudder’s Day, Mudder. This may be a little premature but I doubt if I could get a letter to you on next Saturday or Monday so this is it. Get yourself sumpin’ nice. Maybe you can get Daddy to chip in a few sheckels too.

I’m a little stumped on this letter writing business by now. I don’t know whether or not I’m going out. I don’t know just what kind of mailing facilities they’ve got out there. From what I hear it’ll be more like a picnic than a bivouac (mobile PX’s and all that), but we don’t get in on weekends so I don’t think I’ll be able to do much writing. However, I hear that they do deliver mail out there.

How’s everyone and how’s the lawsuit coming?

Bill (0925)

Don’t send mail ‘till you get another note from me

About Letter 97

Bill gets paid $23 including a war bond. It's the last week of Radio School and everything is up in the air. Thankfully for Bill he has guard duty and therefore is missing "one of those silly night problems" the rest of the company has to suffer through.

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.

About Dad

Bill's father, William Wellington Taylor, Sr. was born on June 2, 1898 in Scranton, Pennsylvania. The first Taylor born in the new world, John Taylor was born in 1641 in Berkshire, Co. Massachusetts. Bill Sr.'s mother, Minnie Phillips Taylor was the daughter of Civil War veteran, William Beynon Phillips, who was captured at "The Battle of the Crater" and spent 8 months in a Confederate prison camp.

Bill Sr. graduated from Lafayette College in 1919 with a degree in English. Following his marriage to Alice Aten in 1920, Bill Sr. was offered a job to teach English at Harvard Military School in Los Angeles, California. His entire professional career would be spent at Harvard School where he would become head of the English Department before retiring after 35 years.

As is evidenced by the photo accompanying this profile, Bill's father had a broad sense of humor in addition to an outgoing personality. Both of these qualities were passed down to his only son.