Letter 266- January 2, 1946

January 2, 1946

Giessen, Germany (Hesse)
Dear Mudder and Dad,

I hardly know how to start this letter. Today I received orders to be at the Labor Center tomorrow for transfer to an AAA outfit for shipment home and it’s one of the rawest deals I’ve ever had and I’ve had plenty in this damn army. Some damn fool has blundered with my records and rated me as having 57 points instead of 47 which I actually have. The Captain called this to their attention but they’ve done nothing to correct the error. In short I’ll be transferred and when they find out that I haven’t the right number of points I’ll get canned and will undoubtedly end up in some stinking hole as full time KP or something—all this when I’m only 5 days from having a rating for which I’ve slaved for 2 months now. My whole army career has a story of me getting the dirty end of the stick. I thought that it couldn’t happen again and I’ll be damned if it hasn’t. I feel mad, sick and hurt about the whole deal. This has been the only place I’ve ever been in the army where I was treated really decently and now I’m transferred just because some damn son of a bitch is too lazy to pay attention to what he’s doing. It just seems that if you do your best and try to do right you end up out of luck. The captain says that he’ll call up tomorrow and try to get something done about it but he admits that my chances are pretty slim. Actually this will hold up my getting home because LSC gets first priority always.

That’s really all I’ve got to say. I’m so sick about the whole thing that I can’t write a real letter. If anything breaks I’ll let you know.

Long live Joe Stalin!

Bill

Letter 125- September 22, 1944

September 22, 1944
(England)

Dear Mudder and Dad,

I feel tonight like the last rose of peaches. My physical condition is not bad with the slight exception of a “beastly code in na head” but mentally-----phiffft! If you know what I mean. I don’t know whether it’s the army in general that’s all “Snafu”. I’ve been in now for almost an entire year but as far as I can see I’m right back where I started. At times it makes me feel down right ashamed. Six years of military school and here I am—a private in the rear rank. I know I’m a good soldier and more qualified for combat as an infantryman or engineer that 99% of these birds around here but still this job of being an eternal replacement is making me feel like a third rate bum. If I only was in an outfit. I was even tempted to join paratroopers. I thought better of it, howev—of course—naturally. I don’t mind risking my life for my country, but intentionally committing suicide, no! but definitely.

But enough of this silly griping. Let’s get down to brass tacks. There’s very little of anything special to write about. That is, there’s very little they will let me write about ( I know, too many prepositions at the end of sentences).

When I was home last I noted that you were quite concerned about whether or not I wanted to go on with college after this mess is over. I reiterate the answer is yes. I’ve seen so much ignorance in this army that it seems more important than ever.

Best Love,

Bill

Letter 77- March 2, 1944

March 2, 1944
(Camp Abbot, Oregon)

Dear Mudder and Dad,

Here I sit like a bird in the wilderness waiting for something to happen. I’ve been on detail all this week now and it looks as if I may be on detail for the rest of my life the way things are going around here. One day I work in the supply room or spread sawdust around the boxing ring—the next I’m room orderly or K.P. It’s really the craps. There’s no work but it’s so boring that a fellow can’t help but be blue. All the rest of the men are leaving on their furloughs and the place is as lonely as a haunted house. The worst part of it is, however, the fact that we don’t know where in hell we stand. It’s the same old story. Keep ‘em in the dark; Don’t be definite about anything; and if you don’t know the score yourself, make it look like a military secret. Do you wonder why a guy gets so damned disgusted? They won’t give us a furlough but we’ll probably still be sitting around here a week or maybe a month after the furlough men get back. Right now I don’t know where, when, or if I’m going, but I know where some of these big shots here ought to go.

I’ve been going to the show just about every night this week—anything to keep my mind off this lousy deal we’re getting up here. Really that is just about the sum and substance of what I’ve done lately. One thing that’s been a godsend has been those language books. After I’ve spent an hour or so studying them I feel as if I’ve accomplished something—a feeling one rarely gets in the army. I don’t think anything is worse than to work 8 hours and then realize you haven’t done a single thing worthwhile.

In the Casual Co. right now there are over 1350 men and jobs for about 100. You can imagine how that works out.

Did you receive the money order?

I’m glad you liked the pictures. I’ve got some more coming but I don’t know if I’ll get them before I ship out. I’ve got another one I took of the platoon, but it’s so big I can’t find an envelope large enough to send it in.

That just about sums up the news from here. Revolting isn’t it?

Best Love, Bill

P. S. After reading this over I realize it sounds pretty pessimistic. Don’t take it too seriously. I’m just mad.

Letter 73- February 20, 1944

February 20, 1944 (Later)
(Camp Abbot, Oregon)

Dear Folks,
God, am I dumb!

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 42- December 10, 1943

December 10, 1943
(Camp Abbot, Oregon)

Dear Folks,
This will probably be another very short note because we have to leave pretty quick. I received a letter from you, Daddy, last night and will write more about it later. Since we’re having another of those damn night problems tonight I’m not at all sure I can get my regular letter off, but if I can I’ll write tonight.

It’s been very cold here for the last few days- 0 degrees yesterday. I really don’t know what I’m going to do. That kind of weather is just too much for me. I think my damn cold is going to last forever. Don’t worry though. It’s more annoying than anything else. If they would send me to some camp in California or Arizona or any place warm I’d gladly waive all pay.

There’s still a lot of talk about us moving out and I hope it’s true. From what I’ve heard they’re still undecided. I’m praying that they make the right decision. I don’t know whether I’ve told you or not but one of the cadre here that once one’s six weeks are up he can never be sure when he’s leaving or where he’s going. According to him, one day I might be training as a combat engineer and the next day I might be a clerk bound for Missouri or a baker in South Dakota. God! What a system. I never have seen such a heap of crap in my whole life as the goings on in this army. I don’t know what they’re trying to do but whatever it is they’re certainly making a mess of it. I’ve pretty well decided to put in for the Air Corps. It’s the only branch into which an Engineer can transfer. I’m not crazy about it but I know it’s better than this. As far as A.S.T.P. is concerned I’ve only got one chance to get it and that’s mighty slim. After 17 weeks I would be screened and then maybe I might be taken. The personnel officer himself doesn’t know exactly what that means. However, I’m going to do some scouting around & see if I can find anything out. Everything’s so mixed up here that no one knows what’s really going on, so as a result I can’t find out anything definite. Undoubtedly you can see how disgusting the whole damn thing is. Oh well, one’s got to be somewhat a philosopher and take what comes in this army. Otherwise you’d go batty in nothing flat.

This is turning out to be more of a letter than I thought when I started. Well, today’s Friday. Only one more day until Sunday. Daddy, you know how much Sunday means to a poor struggling soldier: sleep late, loaf, write letters, loaf, go to the show, loaf, sleep some more and loaf. Ah! If the Army was only like that all the time. Lately we haven’t been doing anything on Sundays, thank God, so maybe this Sunday I’ll go to Bend. I’d like to sleep all day, but I get almost enough sleep everyday but I never get enough recreation.

I haven’t yet received the apron but I’ll write a letter of thanks to Mr. Van Vorst as soon as I do. I still owe a letter to Grandma and Jessie, so I guess I’ll quit rambling on to you and write them a note.

Bestus Love,

Bill

P.S. Receiving my mail yet?

About Letter 35

Bill's frustration continues as he is unsuccessful getting an interview with the Company Commander. He says it's not a matter of what you know but who you know and makes his point with the sarcastic comment, "The birds who go out and get drunk with the non-coms on Saturday evening are the ones who are [made] acting corporals and so forth."

Letter 35- December 3, 1943

Dec. 3, 1943
(Camp Abbot, Oregon)

Dear Folks,

As I write this it’s after reveille Friday morning so as you can probably imagine I haven’t got a hell of a lot of time, but I’m beginning to worry so I thought I’d better write. I haven’t received any mail from you for over 4 days now, so you can see the reason for my anxiety. I know I haven’t been writing regularly, but I’m going to try and get back on the old one day schedule starting right now. Not getting your mail makes me see clearly what it’s like not to get any for awhile. I know that you‘ve been writing steadily and it’s just the fault of the damned post office, but you know how it is. I just can’t help worrying.

Still nothing about my status in the god damned army. I’ve been trying to interview with the Company Commander, but my success has been nil. I’m telling you. It’s not a matter of what you know around her, but who you know. The birds who go out and get drunk with the non-coms on Saturday evening are the ones who are acting corporals and so forth. All I’m hoping for now is a transfer. Maybe if I get somewhere else I’d have a chance to get somewhere. You can’t do your best when you know it’s not going to get you a damned thing. Actually, I know damned well a lot of the cadre here and that includes officers who dislike me because on some subjects I know more than they, and I haven’t been a know it all either.

Well, write soon. I sure wish I could see you.

Best Love to the best Folks,
Bill

About Letter 16

Bill receives the ominous news that he is being shipped to another platoon. He fears that he is being put back in the training cycle due to the week he spent in the hospital. His frustration boils over as he exclaims, “I know about 3 times as much as these bags here will ever know, but they won’t give me a chance to show it. They’ll be sorry.”

Letter 16- November 1, 1943

November 1, 1943
(Camp Abbot, Oregon)

Dear Folks,

Tonight I feel so low I could crawl under a snake’s belly. A few minutes ago I was informed that I was being shipped to another platoon. They didn’t say where I was going but I can guess. Just because I was in the damn hospital for a week they’re going to put me back a battalion & that’ll mean I’ll have to go thru quarantine again and all that crap.

By God, if they do that, I’m going to start hounding them for a transfer; and while I’m waiting for it, I’m going to be such a damn good soldier that they’ll wonder why the hell they ever let me go-damn ‘em!-god damn ‘em to hell! I know about 3 times as much as these bags here will ever know, but they won’t give me a chance to show it. They’ll be sorry. The first thing I’m going to do is go and ask whether I’m still in the A.S.T.P. If not, I’m going to ask to take the General Classification test all over again. Next time I’m just going to concentrate on the English and the stuff I already know and not spend so much time on the math.

Honest to Pete! If anyone’d say a damn word to me right now, it would be his last utterance. God! I’m mad.

Well, I can’t write on that for a whole letter, but I’m sure sore. Again I might be wrong about what they’re going to do with me, but chances of it are awfully slim.

Well, I received a letter from you, Mother, and you, Dad, and Ben Cottle also today. It sure is swell to get a lot of mail. If you didn’t get a letter one day, Mother, you should get two the next because I’ve been writing every day. Another thing is that I wouldn’t send anymore mail via air. Daddy’s regular mail letters are getting here just as fast as Mother’s air mail letters. Ben said in his letter that he has been let in the air corps as a Cadet in spite of bad eyes and a heart murmur!! God! They must be hard up for manpower.

If they set me back I guess all I’ll have to say in my letters is that “Today I did exactly what I did on Oct. 26 etc.” Crap!

Keep sending mail to the same address.
Best Love, Bill