Letter 285- March 7, 1946

7 March 1946
Giessen, Germany

Dear Mudder and Dad,

Oh Happy Day! Oh World of Joy! Today I was informed that yesterday my name was turned in for redeployment. Yippie! Now all that I have to wait for is my orders. Oh, I wonder how long that will be. I hope to heaven that they will come down next week before the company must leave for Munich. I’m afraid that if we are in transit when they come through everything will be a mess. However, if our orders come through the Lieutenant is going to have one sweet time trying to get down there with only 3 men and three vehicles. Ha, I should worry. Out of the eight men in our company 5 of us will be leaving all at the same time. I think that that will about settle the hash of the1297th for once and for all. The two men that the Lieutenant will have are new and unexperienced in this work and any replacements will be as green as grass. Of course I’m not shedding any tears though. Once I’m out of here t’hell with all of it.

This morning I felt a little sick so I asked the Lieutenant if I could lie down—ate too many French fried potatoes last night. So I just got to sleep when Weber, the jeep drier came dashing in and threw me out of bed. Of course I appreciated that very much but before I could strangle him with a blanket he told me about the shipment. You know suddenly I felt like a new man. My stomach didn’t feel like an old sash weight anymore. Alles war wunderbar.

All I have to sweat out now is about 747,000 little details like who, how, when, where, why, and sundry other trivialities, but at least I know something for definite and that will be something.

Boy! Do I get mad. Everybody in the company last night with the exception of myself was as high as a kite but guess who had the hangover this morning. Yep, that’s right. Honestly, I haven’t drunk anything stronger than beer since VJ and yet I’m the one who must suffer in the morning after. Hell, if I knew that I was going to feel so bad this morning anyway I would have gone on a real toot. Oh well, C’est las Vie or sumpin’.

I’m afraid that these next couples of weeks are really going to be the longest in a long time. As long as I wasn’t sure about the thing I could be as philosophic as Zeno himself. But now I’ll be sitting on the edge of my seat all the time. It’s a good that I cut my fingernails short or I’d probably gnaw my hands off.

I’m afraid that I can’t think about anything else except coming home right now. I don’t kid myself though. There’s a lot of difference between getting orders and getting off the train in L.A. but I’ve got to start somewhere.

Well, that’s about all I’ve got to say for tonight. I haven’t received any mail for several days now so I guess that they have everything in a muddle again.

Best Love,
Bill