Letter 181- March 5, 1945

March 5, 1945
(France)

Dear Mudder and Dad,

It’s been a long time since I’ve written to you. It must be 10 days or better. The last one was written from the field but this one is from behind the lines—not just a little behind as usual but way, way behind. You see having been on the line for better than 3 months I’m entitled to a four day rest and this is it. Boy, oh Boy! Am I taking it in. Life here is wonderful. No guard, K.P., responsibilities of any kind—just loaf, relax, and do what I want to do. It does seem odd not to hear the thunder and whistle of the guns but I can take it. I’m located in a fairly large town where it is possible to obtain most anything I want. There are ice cream and pastry shops, places to buy souvenirs and also there is a photographer. I haven’t inquired there yet but if it is possible I would like to have a picture and send it to you.

We have movies every night and various sorts of entertainment during the day—swing sessions, a snack bar, and occasionally a 100 piece military band—very good too. We eat in a modern hotel where the food is excellent though there’s not enough for a growing boy like you know who. We have French waitresses and generally music with our meals. You can see that after living for months in the mud all this luxury is pretty nearly overwhelming.

The news certainly looks good this morning with the German 15th. Army pinned up against the Rhine. I just hope that by the time you receive this letter the news will be even better.

That about does it.


Best Love,
Bill

About Attrition and Troop Replacements

Throughout the latter part of December and the months of January and February there is a continuous flow of men in and out of the organization. Many men are lost to all types of sickness, and as the Company keeps losing strength more and more replacements come up to the line to fill in.

Trench foot and Yellow Jaundice are the most common maladies. Both are quite serious and will keep men off the line a long time if not permanently. Also, men go off the line as a result of combat fatigue due to mental strain and the miserable climatic conditions.

Bill seems to be holding up well despite the considerable hardships he is facing.

About Letter 180

In this short note Bill writes to let the folks know that "I'm well and so forth."

Letter 180- February 20, 1945

February 20, 1945
(France; V-Mail)

Dear Mudder and Dad,

I thought I’d get off a short note while the sun shines. You know, just to let you know I’m well and so forth. I received two letters from you this morning dated the 9th. and 10th. One of them was the one in which you told of Bob Brewer coming to school. He was right about my outfit the second time. I’m surprised that he only gets 90 days in the States after what he went through. He should get a discharge.

I must close now. I will write again as soon as possible.

Best Love,
Bill

About Letter 179

Bill and Company A continue to be "off the lines" and "there is not a 'helluva lot to do except eat, sleep and write letters." From what he reads in "Stars and Stripes" Bill understands that things are going OK, but he adds that "Frankly I'm damn sick and tired of this mess."

Letter 179- February 18, 1945

February 18, 1945
(Somewhere in France)

Dear Mudder and Dad,

While I’m trying to invent a new way to start this letter I might as well begin writing. Enclosed is a money order for 50.oo. It’s been some time since I’ve been able to get off $50 to $75 a month. This month I saved some of my pay for rations or so that if I get back for a rest, to Paris or something else equally as unlikely I will have a little cash on hand. That’s somewhat awkward, but I imagine that you can understand it.

I’ve been fortunate in being able to see 2 movies during the last couple of days. The pictures were both old, I guess, but they were new to me so I’m content.

While I’m back off the lines like this there’s not a “helluva” lot to do except eat, sleep and write letters. As usual it’s all just a matter of sitting and waiting. I’m waiting for mail, or “chow”, or a rest, or an attack, or some other damn thing. We call it “sweating it out”. I guess I’ll never quit “sweating it out” ‘til they hand me my discharge papers.

I haven’t heard much news for the last few days but from what I read in the “Stars and Stripes” I understand things are going all right. Frankly I’m damn sick and tired of this mess and hope we begin pushing on the Western Front before long.

I received 3 letters from you today, the last having been dated February 4. You did manage to sound cheerful despite the fact that you had received no mail from me for nearly 3 weeks.

I’ve got some bad news for you. I lost my watch. I know where it is but that doesn’t do me any good now. Probably some Kraut has it or maybe another G.I., I hope. At any rate it’s gone and “I ain’t got no watch.” Too, it was practically the last one in the platoon. What I should have is a pocket watch. Maybe I can pick one up somewhere.

Best Love,
Bill

About Letter 178

Bill gets paid and discovers that "for the past month I've been a Private First Class." With his $4.80 raise and combat infantry pay he now makes "about $75 a month." He learns that his grandfather's estate "back east" has settled to the tune of about "twenty-five thousand greenbacks. That would certainly make for post war security in the old homestead."