Letter 26- November 15, 1943

November 15, 1943
(Camp Abbot, Oregon)

Dear Folks,

Well, I haven’t got anything to do tonight so I can get off a pretty good letter. Everybody else has guard duty tomorrow, but I’ve got K.P. Kitchen Police sounds bad, but around here nobody minds it because it’s easier than training. Today was pretty soft, however, because we went to the show about 4 times for training and orientation films (orientation is another word for propaganda). The Lieutenant asked who could carry a guidon today and I said I could although I had my doubts. I came out all right though because I could remember enough of what my guidon carrier at Harvard did to get by. This morning with a smirk on his face the Sgt. called me out to lead the exercises. This is considered one of the toughest ways of drilling an outfit, but it was just my meat. I think the impression I made on the Lt. & Sgt. was pretty damn good. We had boxing but I wouldn’t do it because of my broken snozzle. That’s why I got the phys. Tr. But it was good to give a few commands instead of taking them-and with the officers present-well.

Today I walked around the corner, and ran “smack dab” into a private in the German Army—gray-green uniform—coal scuttle helmet and the whole outfit including a Mauser rifle. For a moment I was stunned and I almost beat him over the head with my Garand. Then I realized that he was one of my corporals. There were several of them wandering around the camp to show the soldiers what a German uniform looks like and to find out what the reaction of the troops would be. The corporal said that 99% of them thought the uniform was British (what jerks.)

I don’t know if it means anything or not but the rumor that the war in Europe is almost over continues to gain momentum around here. One fellow in our barracks got a letter from his brother in Italy saying that he would be very surprised if the war lasted until the 1st.of the year. I saw the letter myself. I’m sending you a clipping from a San Francisco paper. Has the news been along this line generally, lately? (bad English)

We’re learning “Judo” up here right now. I already know how to kill a guy in 50 different ways (all dirty) and can throw a man over my head with a flick of the wrist. (pleasant, huh?)

According to weather reports a cold wave is going to hit this region tonight sometime. The weather’s been beautiful for over a week and I was afraid it couldn’t last. Even with the nice weather colds have been terrible. The hospital is full of pneumonia, flu, and cold cases and now the mess halls are handing out hot lemonade every night. I’ll bet this camp folds up the by the first of the year. One thing that makes us think the war is almost over is the number of medical discharges that are coming through now. Men are getting CDD’s without having a hell of a lot wrong with them. Of course, that doesn’t mean a hell of a lot.

I haven’t heard anything about the A.S.T.P., but I’m going to get an interview with Capt. O’Grady about it as soon as I’ve made a good enough impression.

I’m sure glad my cold’s breaking up now. The ambulance is down at number one barracks right now dragging off a flu or pneumonia case. It’s the regular guidon bearer. Looks as if I may have his job for quite some time now. What a “jernt”. If this keeps up, there’ll be so few in the Company they’ll have to make me a non-com.


Best Love to the
Best folks in the World,
Bill


(sketch here)

About Letter 21

Arising at 5:15 am. Bill and the boys go to the rifle range. It is so cold on the firing line that “nobody could shoot worth a damn”. Bill draws a humorous sketch depicting the situation. He tells his mother that he is exploring the idea of applying for “some special branch” of the ASTP program such as photography or camouflage. Bill describes a soldier in his barracks who appears to be having a mental breakdown and closes the letter with a ditty which describes “our snappy outfit.”

Letter 21- November 7, 1943

November 7, 1943
(Camp Abbot, Oregon)

Dear Folks,

Wot a life! Wot a life! Today is Sunday –the day when the Army rests supposedly. Well, we got up at 5:15 this morning and went out on the range. When we go there it was still so dark that we couldn’t fire. Soooooo -, we had to wait 45 minutes for the sun to come up. Of course, that 45 minutes could have just as well been spent in bed, but the Army wouldn’t take that into consideration. After we started firing it got so cold that nobody could shoot worth a damn. Whenever I wasn’t coaching or firing I stood almost on top of a big fire and drunk gallons of soup. The soup was at least some consulation (sp). After we finally got back from that we got the rest of the day off, but hell!

Yesterday was really a beautiful day though. It was so cold that in spite of the bright sun the frost didn’t melt until about 2:00 in the afternoon. All the trees around here looked as if they had been sprayed with white paint. Otherwise and anyway to hell with the jernt.

I promised in my last letter last night I’d answer your latest letters so here it is.

In your letter of Nov. 1, Mother, you asked what I was going to do if asked about a transfer. Well, I really don’t know yet. I’ve got a couple of interviews coming up yet and I’ll find out a lot more then.

As far as A.S.T.P is concerned I’m sort of behind the 8 ball. All the A.S.T.P. here is Engineering and as far as that’s concerned I’m pretty limited. However, I’m going to tell what I’ve taken in school, my grades, etc. and maybe I’ll get a chance at some special branch. There are a number of things like photography (camouflage?) and others I haven’t found out about yet.

I haven’t received any package yet, but if any buzzard tries to swipe it he’s going to meet a sudden and violent end.

In answer to your letter, Dad-I think that our C.O. is a descendant of Paul Revere. I think his main purpose in life is breaking down morale. Most of us can take it, but there’s one bird in the barracks that doesn’t do anything but lie in bed and blubber. Nevertheless we sure do a lot of talking about home here.

I’ve only one thing about Bob Chilcott in the Engineer A.S.T.P. Either it’s a hell of a lot easyier(sp) than they let on here, or
BULLCRAP

About the camouflage (I don’t know how it’s spelled) branch of engineers I know very little, but I know that we get quite a bit of it in basic.

One thing I’ve got to say about the Engineers is that it’s a snappy outfit and we know it. There’s a lot of dirty work in it but that little “Golden Outhouse” on my lapel means quite a bit in the Army. These are the words to our Engineers song.


We’re the fighting Engineers,
the fighting Engineers.
We do all the dirty work,
the doughboy gets the cheers.
We keep the outfit moving,
we cover up the rear.
We’re the God damned heroes,
the fighting Engineers-hey!

Keep sending the news; it’s the only way I ever hear it.

Love,

Bill